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swanimagines · 4 years ago

Note

Hi love! Could you do prompt B9 with Kaz Brekker please? Thank you!!

B9: “Did you do all this… for me?”

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

A/N: I'm sorry for clogging your dashboards with Kaz + Shadow and Bone and I have ignored all my requests for other fandoms but honestly I'm waiting for some free time with my days just so I could write something for Kaz and it finally feels like I can write and I thoroughly enjoy writing these!!! I missed that feeling. It also makes me wanna start outlining my series idea based on the show timeline because that would mean I would have new chapters to write and aaaaahhhhh I'm itching to write it but I'm scared because my serieses always flop or then I lose interest after like two or three chapters, but sticking to the show plot and just adding reader and a side plot for Kaz x reader could help with it??? That wouldn't be very original though but yeah. I hope you like it!

Warnings: mentions of prostitution + child prostitution at the beginning of this but other than that it's fluffy, promise!

Word count: 923

The Menagerie.

A house full of music and pleasure, from outside it seemed like people would have fun there. Clients usually had, but workers… they were a different story. You remembered working for Tante Heleen since you were a child, but now Kaz had suddenly asked you to come with him and now you were there, standing in the middle of Tante Heleen’s office, her looking up and down your form before Kaz laid a small pouch on her table. She peeked inside, taking two red, glimmering rubies out, before she grinned at Kaz and turned her gaze on you.

You felt like you wanted to vomit, having her look at you like a piece of meat.

“I’ll miss you, darling.” Tante Heleen smiled at you mockingly. “You were so good at pleasing our clients…”

Kaz sent a glare to your boss, or former boss, before he lightly nudged you with his cane, indicating it was time to leave. You walked straight out from the Menagerie, receiving jealous glances from your previous colleagues, but some sent you slight smiles, silently telling they were thankful you got out.

And seeing those glances slowly let the information sink in. You were out. You weren’t her property anymore.

But… Kaz didn’t have such money, did he?

“Kaz, how did Tante Heleen let me go like that? What did you do?” you tried to have an eye contact with him as you were walking back to the Club, but he just kept staring forward with his usual expression, like nothing had happened a moment earlier. “You don’t have that kind of money-”

“I gave her the Crow Club as a collateral for you and Inej before we left to the Fold.” he interrupted you.

You blinked at him in disbelief, being silent for a full minute before stuttering out “W-why?”

“You were worth it. Two of the jewels paid your final debt. You’re free to do whatever you want now.”

The rest of the walk happened in pure silence, you trying to swallow the fact that you were finally free from her. But back at the Club you slowly sat down at Kaz’s armchair as he moved to stand behind his desk, and picked up a pile of papers before slowly starting to browse them through.

“Did you do all this… for me?” you raised your eyes to Kaz, who slowly nodded without meeting your eyes. “Why me?”

Kaz still didn’t look at you, he just continued browsing through his files. “Inej made her choice to leave the Crows for an indefinite time. I needed a replacement.”

You sighed. “You could have stopped her. I know you cared about her.”

Kaz glanced up at you, stopping to examine your face for a second before he turned it back to his papers, but his hands had stopped browsing them. He laid the pile down before leaning against his table.

“It’s... different with Inej.” he mumbled, and you frowned.

“Different how?”

Silence. Kaz drummed his fingers against his table, looking at the scattered pile of papers in front of him. Then he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his blue eyes scanning your face for a second or two before he spoke.

“She isn’t like you. You’re…” he quickly averted his eyes from yours, back to his papers.

He fell silent again, as to bite back his next words what he was going to say. But you understood what he was going to say after looking at his body language. He wasn’t good at expressing feelings, he avoided it at all costs. Your mouth opened a little bit, as you let out a silent “oh”.

Kaz visibly swallowed, fully aware you had caught his unsaid words. Neither of you was sure what to say next, what to do next. You had felt something for him for quite some time now, receiving teasing from Jesper and knowing smiles from Inej, but you thought their words were just teasing so you’d blush which they would find hilarious. Which they did.

“I wish you saw how he looks at you.”

Inej’s words echoed in your head, followed by a flash of Jesper grinning at you after he had seen Kaz’s jacket thrown over you when you woke up after a particularly cold night.

“He doesn’t give his jacket to anyone, you know?”

You had thought that him giving your jacket was just because you had been drenched wet from rain after hunting down a rabbit for dinner, and he was worried you’d catch a cold and that would lead to your mission failing. That he wasn’t worried about you. But what if he was?

“I…” you choked out, and Kaz pressed his lips to a tight line, still looking down at his table.

“I know. I don’t blame you.” he answered before you could even finish.

“No, Kaz. Listen. I… I feel something for you too.” you breathed out, and watched him frown, before he slowly raised his gaze to look at you. His eyes wandered over your face, before he shook his head.

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” You placed your hand next to Kaz’s, not quite touching him but near enough to let him know that you were serious. A token of affection, even if it wasn’t a typical one.

His lips twitched just a slightest bit into a ghost of a smile while he looked at your hands placed side by side, and he nodded. That was a wordless agreement - you were his and he was yours.

Tags: @musicallisto @take-me-to-ny @mindofasupernova @lxncelot @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @someoneovertherainboww @vintagebitc @fandomstuffff @montsepliego @amwitherspoon @number-0-iz @tranquilitymoon @just-a-new-start @kaqua @booksreplacedmysoul @readingslumpfanfic @bravelittlesunflower @shadowhuntyi @rika90 // if you wanna be added to my taglist for Shadow and Bone, reply to this post, send me an ask or message me privately!

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #sab #sab imagine #imagine #imagines #my works #reader insert #gn reader #kaz brekker drabble #drabble

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sondepoch · 3 years ago

Text

One Night (Marius x Reader)

Teaching a Billionaire to Touch Grass (And a Minimum Wage Worker to Treat Herself)

Marius clicks his tongue in annoyance, both at you and the cars around him. Why are there so many people on the road at 2:38 in the morning? Why did the GPS's projected time to get to your home just double? Why is the universe out to get him today, on the one night Marius thought he could catch a break?

“Okay,” he seethes, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the traffic around him grows impossible slower. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “We’re going to talk about how inappropriate this was.”

“I—I’m really sorry, Sir, I—”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Maybe he is, actually. Marius is too pissed to be sure. “What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to call me, of all people.”

MASTERLIST

The car is silent.

As Marius gets inside, he thinks that this might be the first time he’s not opening the passenger door seat for a lady partner, the first time he’s allowed himself to stalk straight into the driver's seat and angrily wait for his passenger to enter on their own.

Actually, he thinks, this is also the first time in years that he's actually driving. The first time someone managed to call for him so late that even his chauffeur was off-duty.

“I’m really sorry about this, Sir,” you mumble as you climb into the seat next to him, apologies never halting as you ramble on and on and on like an idiot who can't read a room. “I, ah, didn’t think this would happen, I'm so…”

Marius ignores you.

He glances out the passenger window and catches Darius Morgan’s equally-annoyed gaze. Seriously? the man seems to be asking, an unimpressed look crossed over his face as he eyes you through the car window. I don’t fucking know, Marius’s gaze says back, and he shakes his head the slightest as he starts the car.

“What’s your address?” he asks, interrupting your apologies. Propriety should make him feel somewhat embarrassed over the way he's acting, but he can’t bring himself to be even a little polite right now.

“It’s by the Harbor. Um, if you go straight on Main Street and turn right at the—”

“Forget it,” Marius interrupts you. He taps the small car screen on his right, opening up the GPS interface. “Just type it in. I’ll drop you off.”

Your face falls at his irate voice, but you wisely don't comment on it, instead typing in your address as he asked. He watches you cautiously the whole time, for once not caring about the performance anxiety his gaze naturally brings to everyone he looks at. To your merit, you don't mess up anymore than you already have, deft fingers moving with the preciseness he’s used to seeing from you, but the skill can hardly impress him after you called him to pick you up from here, of all places. As the GPS routing sequence activates, Marius lets out an annoyed huff. This is not where he wanted to be right now.

Then, the car hums to life as he presses down on the accelerator, and he’s speeding in the direction of your home, trying to abandon his anger with the jailhouse the two of you are leaving.

I should be at home right now, he thinks as he moves onto the highway. He thinks about how long it had taken for him to coordinate this night off from Vyn’s tutoring sessions, Pax’s board meetings, his schoolwork, and the NXX’s meetings. I should be sleeping, or painting, or calling Rosa, or—

“Fuck,” he mutters when traffic begins to slow down.

He’s in a traffic jam.

So much for sleeping. And painting. And calling Rosa.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, both at you and the cars around him. Why are there so many people on the road at—Marius glances at the car’s dashboard—2:38 in the morning? Why did the GPS's projected time to get to your home just double? Why is the universe out to get him today, on the one night Marius thought he could catch a break?

“I—I’m really sorry, Sir, I—”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Maybe he is, actually. Marius is too pissed to be sure. “What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to call me, of all people.”

He keeps his glare fixated on the road, knowing that if he shoots you with the same thunderous look he uses to fire people, you’ll probably be too terrified to speak. Still, when you finally start talking, he can sense the fear in your voice.

His grip on the steering wheel softens the slightest.

“I, ah, initially was planning on calling Mr. Vincent. But he—”

“Really?” Marius snaps. “You’re his assistant, right?” Marius thinks back to all the times he stalked into Pax Headquarters only to see Vincent there with his morning coffee in hand and you, always three feet behind, holding Vincent’s work files. The Board of Directors criticized Marius for allowing his assistant to have an assistant, but never did he imagine you to be so…

Incompetent, he wants to say. Foolish might be a better word for it, though.

“Ah, yes. His administrative assistant.”

“And you want me to believe,” Marius huffs, “That the first person you wanted to call to bail you out of jail was the man you’re an administrative assistant to?”

Traffic gets ever slower, and Marius’s car rolls to a complete stop.

“Yes,” you whisper, and you start wringing your fingers in a manner so sheepish that Marius almost wants to believe you. Almost. “I, ah, was going to call him first. But then I remembered that his vacation started last night and that he’s already left Stellis. So I figured that if I called him, he’d just call you, so I…”

He wouldn’t call me, Marius thinks. Vincent is smart enough to find someone else to pick you up from jail. Regular people don’t ask these kinds of favors from their boss. Especially not from their boss's boss.

“Do you know that people usually ask their friends for these things?” Marius asks. Some of his anger seeps away when he realizes how apologetic you actually are, and he moves forward in traffic the slightest. “Or family, perhaps. What you did was…” Marius tries to find a kinder word than completely inappropriate. “Was highly unusual.” He sighs. “Why didn’t you ask someone else?”

He stares at you through the corner of his eye. You’re pursing your lips, holding back tears. Again, his gaze softens.

“I don't have anyone else,” you whisper.

Marius thinks it’s strange for you to imply that you even have him, especially when he’s nothing more to you than a high-level corporate executive, one that you’ve never spoken directly to in your entire life, but he doesn’t press you any further.

Releasing the final remnants of his anger in a soft sigh, he switches lanes and decides to pull into the nearest exit.

“Darius said you were in that cell since yesterday afternoon. You haven’t had dinner yet, right?”

“No, but…”

“This traffic isn’t going anywhere. We may as well get you something to eat.”

He exits easily, pulling into a district of Stellis that he’s never been in before, and ignores your quiet sniffle.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Earlier, he was ignoring you out of spite. Now, he doesn’t respond because he wants to preserve your dignity.

As he focuses his attention on the district he's pulled to, ignoring the GPS which vehemently opposes everything he's doing, Marius realizes that he's pulled into a rather poor sector of Stellis. It’s filled with unhealthy fast food joints, late-night drunkards, and a bunch of loiterers who are eyeing his high-end car suspiciously.

After driving around and surveying the options, Marius sighs.

“The only places open are these fast-food restaurants,” he says, cleanly leaving out the option of getting food from a club or anywhere else a tabloid might be able to snap a picture. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah!” you chirp, and Marius finds that your smile is oddly sweet. “Ah, would you be okay with that one over there? I go there a lot, and their food is...better than other fast food places.”

Marius squints at you for a moment. He tries to recall your salary, and when he fails, he thinks of Vincent’s. Surely, you make a similar wage? You shouldn’t need to frequent fast-food restaurants like this, right?

Shaking his head, he decides not to ask about it. Things like where you eat are your business, not his, and it’s not his place to question you on your personal decisions.

He pulls up to the drive-through, somewhat relieved to find that the dine-in option isn’t even available at this hour, and lets you order whatever you want. You end up taking a meager meal, one that Marius doubts will actually fill your stomach when he can hear it growling so loudly, so when you turn to him and ask what he’ll get, he orders some fries in hopes that he can hand them off to you in case you’re still hungry.

Minutes later, the two of you are parked on the side of the road with your respective meals in your laps. Only once you’ve finished (and after Marius is starting to pawn his fries off to you, finding that they’re rather unappealing to his pallette) does he think it’s appropriate to actually breach the subject of why you were tossed in jail.

“So,” he drawls, listening to the cool hum of the air conditioner. “Drugs, huh?”

He hears you choke on a fry.

“Th-they weren’t mine!” you blurt. “Honest, Sir, they—”

“Relax,” he says, eyes flitting down. “I’m not going to have you fired over this. Vincent wouldn’t want that. If anything, the court will decide.”

You relax a little at that, but Marius can sense that you’re still on edge.

“I...appreciate that a lot, Sir. But, really, the drugs weren’t mine. I—I’m sure there’s video evidence to prove that. I was just coming home from work when a kid told me to hold onto this bag, and—”

Marius lifts an eyebrow. He may be out of touch with the realities of the common class, but even he knows how ridiculous your story is.

“I didn’t take it, though! He handed it to me and I put it on the ground! But...but an officer saw me put it on the ground and assumed it was mine...and then...you know what happened.”

Marius sighs. You've always been a good, low-profile worker. He has no reason to believe that you'd get involved with anything bad: but he can't help but doubt you. When he next speaks, his voice is laced with hesitance. “Is there anything to prove your innocence? Pax can help get you a good lawyer, but without evidence, it’ll—”

“There is!” Your eyes are too determined to be anything other than sincere. “Or, ah, there should be. It happened right outside my apartment. I’m sure someone there has surveillance footage of what happened.”

Marius ignores the quiet “hopefully” you add to the end of that.

“Alright,” he says, deciding that it’s not his place to decide whether or not he believes your story. “Tell me how you got my private number, then. Pax employees shouldn’t have access to that information.”

“Oh, ah…”

Your gaze turns sheepish. Marius grows even more interested in your response.

“Mr. Vincent had it written down a couple months ago. I accidentally saw it. I tried to forget, but…”

You seem to be kicking yourself over the blunder, but Marius is impressed. A mind that can remember something months after having seen it only once is a valuable thing, he thinks. It’s a waste for someone with your brain to be working as a mere assistant’s assistant.

“I’m really—”

“It’s okay,” Marius says. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m...not mad at you.”

And somehow, he really isn’t angry anymore.

The two of you finish your meal soon enough, Marius having successfully pressed his fries into your hands. It seems that you really are hungry because you down those in a manner of minutes, and the man almost regrets not having ordered more when he hears your stomach still grumbling beneath the hum of the car as he returns to the highway.

As Marius lets the GPS guide him back onto Stellis’s most frequented roads, he’s pleasantly surprised to find that all traffic is gone. He speeds down the road with a renewed vigor, somehow sidestepping the usual sleepiness that overcomes him during these kinds of drives with your idle commentary of the road, little mentions of “I once saw a turtle here” and “there used to be four lanes here, but they changed it to five” and “this mile-post had the wrong number on it for years before I reported it and highway patrol got it changed.”

If anything, there’s a faint smile on his face when he finally pulls off the freeway, almost amused by your quiet chit-chat.

“Is this the right neighborhood?” Marius asks as he pulls into one of Stellis’s residential districts.

“Yeah, it’s just a little further down.” You gather your purse in your lap and thank Marius for the umpteenth time.

“It's okay,” he says, slowing down. The apartments are looking poorer, now, dingier, but he tries not to let that show on his face. “Is it here?”

“Right at the end of the street,” you say, and with only a mildly concerned look on his face, Marius drives you further down the road.

His eyebrows furrow as he realizes what kind of neighborhood you live in, and he wonders if your wage truly is so poor that you have to live here, of all places. The apartment complexes here are unrenovated, a disappointing amount of them sporting broken glass or graffiti on them. Litter covers the grounds, and even in the thick, 3-AM darkness, Marius can make out hundreds of beer cans scattered across the lawns. Bushes are either dying or overgrown, and there are cigarette butts everywhere.

Marius realizes that between his suit, his car, and his three earrings, he might have more money on him than everyone who lives here combined.

“Which...which of these apartments is yours?”

He looks around warily, quietly hoping that you’ll say it’s none of them.

“Ah, it’s the first window on the second floor of that…” you trail off as your pointer finger lands on an apartment where all lights are lit—and three masked figures stand illuminated, clearly ransacking your house.

“Oh my god,” Marius blurts, already getting his phone out. “You’re getting robbed, what the—”

“No, no!” You’re quick to place a hand on Marius’s arm before he can dial Emergency Services. “Those are, ah, just the neighborhood boys. They...they do bad things, but they’re good kids. Don’t worry. I’ll chase them out in no time, you don’t have to—”

“Are you serious?” Marius asks, dumbfounded. “This—how can you go back to a home like that? You could die, or—or—”

“Sir,” you say, looking him in the eyes with more seriousness than he’s seen from you this entire night. “With all due respect, this is the best I can afford.”

Marius falls silent at that.

You open the door silently, casting your eyes down. “Thank you again for everything,” you murmur. “I...I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to make sure it never happens again.”

But then, Marius thinks about the weak story you gave to him earlier, where you claimed that someone handed you drugs and then left you with them, and he wonders whether it might have actually been true. Whether this neighborhood, with its burglars and alcoholism and litter, could actually present you with that reality. Whether something like that may happen again to you, or, worse, Marius thinks as he glances back into your apartment at the three masked robbers, if you could actually get hurt.

Against all better judgment, his arm snaps out. He grips your wrist instantly, not thinking about propriety or class divisions or economic status or anything other than you, one of his company’s employees, and your safety.

“Don’t go there,” he blurts. When he realizes that you’re not tearing your arm free of him, he speaks again. “At least, not while they’re there. I’ll come back here with you tomorrow to make sure you can return in a safe environment, and—”

“Sir, I can’t just get a hotel or—”

“I have two guest bedrooms. You can take your pick. Just—ah—” Marius glances out the window at the poor neighborhood you live in, and he winces. “I can’t let you go home to this. Not...not while there are robbers in your house. Please understand.”

“This...this kind of problem doesn’t just go away,” you mumble, but Marius relaxes when he sees your grip on the door loosen. “And besides, it really wouldn’t be appropriate for me to stay in your apartment.”

“Most people wouldn’t call it appropriate to call your company’s CEO to bail you out of jail,” Marius jokes, but the humor of it is lost on you.

“I…”

Your face falls.

“A—that was a joke,” Marius stutters. “I was joking.”

“Right.”

The atmosphere of the car goes awkward, made even worse by the GPS’s automated reminder that your destination is on the left, but the more Marius looks out his window, the more he decides that he can’t possibly let you return to this apartment. He’ll give you a raise if he has to, but this is something no one should be subject to.

“Alright,” you finally relent after Marius makes it clear that he won’t speak unless it’s to plead with you more. “Just for one night.”

“Just for one night,” Marius agrees, already planning how he can make sure that you have a better home to return to than this one for all future nights to come.

#Word Count: 2.7k #female reader #tw: robbery #Tears of Themis #tot #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis marius #tears of themis lu jinghe #marius x reader #lu jinghe x reader #billionaire x poor girl #part of a series #i have extremely mixed feelings about this piece so eh #more to come in this hopefully

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years ago

Text

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

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doodler-jpeg · 4 years ago

Text

Road Trip [Dream Team]

You know that one song? Beachboy? Yeah, the second part is kind of based off of that. Just the opening bit, though. I didn’t include BBH because I couldn’t really think of how to include him. Sorry about that. Also second post HAHAH SUCK IT, NON BELIEVERS.

LIL EDIT: APPARENTLY SOMEONE SMILED BECAUSE OF THIS?? I don’t think you’ll see this again, though I’m very glad you did! :]

⚠️cursing⚠️

Pronouns: they/them

You heaved a sigh as you tapped your finger against the steering wheel as the three boys loaded into the car, giggling happily as they buckled themselves in.

Dream had the liberty of taking the front passenger seat, laughing at George and Sapnap about their unfortunate situation in the back seat. You sighed as you backed turned around to see if everything was packed for your little road trip, nodding in approval as your friends held up their bags and yours.

“Okay, nobody needs to go to her bathroom?” You asked, backing out of the driveway and into the street to start your drive.

“We’re men, [Nickname],” Dream stated, placing his hand on your shoulder and smirking at you. “We can piss in cups.”

You sent him a painfully fake smile and laughed, “No, honey, you’re just gonna piss your pants. You won’t have enough time to get through to the bottle before you just get piss everywhere.” You gave his shoulder a ‘reassuring’ pat before driving down the street and taking a right out of the neighbourhood.

You clenched the wheel tightly as Sapnap yelled at George and Dream when they had sussed him out in a game of Among Us with random people.

“I WASN’T THE FUCKING IMPOSTOR!” He groaned out, throwing his head back and punching George.

“Why’d you do that?” George whined, rubbing where Sapnap had hit him. He formed a fist and punched the teen, causing a chain reaction of them punching each other until George finally noticed that he had died.

“NO! I DIED!” He yelled, causing you to inhale.

“Shut up, both of you! I’m trying to vent-”

“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, ALL OF YOU, I’LL TURN THIS FUCKING CAR AROUND. SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You yelled, slamming the breaks. The three launched forward. Both Sapnap and George smacked their heads against the seats in front of them and Dream held onto the dashboard, eyes wide as he turned to you.

“I-”

“Shut.” You grabbed his mouth and shut it.

“B-

“I said shut, you little motherfucker.” The faceless YouTuber sunk into the seat and the other two let out small cries. “I’m not gonna say it again.” That made the two of them shut up and they played silently on their phones, leaving you to sigh as you sped up to the speed limit, playing some music to distract the four of you.

“Can I-”

“Lets play the quiet game, okay? First one to talk has to pay for gas, snacks, and anything else. Okay?” The three nodded and you smiled victoriously, curving alongside the road.

You yawned as you slipped on the cold coffee you had bought nearly six hours ago. Your three best friends were snoozing away without a care in the world, having long since abandoned their energy to sleep. Clouds rolled in slowly and rain poured down, tapping against the glass and causing you to smile as you continued to drive, occasionally taking sips from your gross tasting coffee that you didn’t want to waste.

Your moment of peace was interrupted as Sapnap groggily opened his eyes, blinking sluggishly as he sniffed.

“[Nickname]?” He yawned, voice deep from having just woken up. ““What time is it?” At the question, you glanced at the car’s clock and winced.

2:39 am.

“It’s 2:39, sweetheart. Just go back to bed.” You reached back and ruffled his hair, causing him to giggle and shake his head a bit as you did so.

“Wait- am or pm?”

“Does it matter?” You responded, slowing down as you rounded another corner.

“Yeah,” Sapnap let out a muffled groan as he stretched, nearly hitting George in the process. ““Can I drive?”

“No, Sap, just go back to sleep.” You waved off, running a hand through your hair as he huffed.

“But I don’t want to.” He groaned, causing George to stir beside him, “My backpack’s not comfy anymore and you’re always nice to cuddle.” You shook your head and slowed down a bit as it began to rain harder, making it more difficult to drive. Sapnap cheered groggily and reached out for you.

“It’s too dark and I can’t see anything, even with the head lights on.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you pulled off of the road and parked the car. Taking out the keys to save gas, you nudged George a bit before crawling in between the two, almost immediately being glomped by the youngest. You ran your hands through his hair and made sure you were comfortable as Sapnap took out a blanket from the trunk.

“Wait, hold on.” You stretched, sitting back up. You gently nudged George, who groaned and rolled away from you, smacking his nose against the door. You winced and locked it before nudging him a few more times.

“I’m sorry, Gogy, but I’m gonna need you to sit up so I can get the back set up.” The brunet nodded, clearly still in his tired state of mind, and crawled into the front seat, resting his head in the edge of the steering wheel.

Quickly laying the seats down [after moving the extra stuff, like snacks], you woke George back up and patted back to where his seat was. He was bewildered, but didn’t question it as he crawled back and curled up. You smiled and looked over at Dream.

“I’m sorry, Dream.” The male in question [not necessarily, it wasn’t a question at all] groaned and turned his head, peeling his eyes open as he looked around.

“’s loud,” he commented, blinking slowly. “[Nickname]? Why are you here?”

“Road trip, honey. Now come here, it’s not comfortable sleeping in a chair.” He nodded and climbed over the middle area between the two front seats and sat next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling into your neck. Sapnap huffed from beside you and did the same, sending Dream a glare.

“I swear to god, if you two start fighting again, I’ll put you outside. Stop it. I just wanna sleep- oh, I’m so sorry, Gogy, come here.” The British male rolled over Dream and rested his head on your stomach, pulling his blanket with him. You sighed and ruffled his hair, draping the blanket over Sapnap and George, making sure they had enough warmth before reaching over to Sapnap’s and doing the same for Dream.

Road trips just got a whole lot better.

Cause now you’re sleeping with da homies. With socks on, of course.

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream team x reader #georgenotfound x reader #dream x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x you #dream x you #sapnap x you #dream team x you #mcyt x you

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fireladybuckley · 3 years ago

Text

It Isn’t in my Blood

Fandom: 9-1-1 Prompt: Inspired by @kitkatpancakestack‘s “what if Buck finds the pamphlet“ post Pairing: Implied future Buddie - Evan Buckley (Buck) x Eddie Diaz Word Count: 2,330 Summary: SPOILERS - A 5x01 missing scene - Buck finds the pamphlet on anxiety and panic attacks given to him by the cardiologist at the hospital and encourages Eddie to tell him what happened. Eddie breaks down and admits that maybe not everything is okay.

Beta’d by @firemedicdiaz Thank you babe <3

Read it on Ao3

“I’ll just be a minute, you staying here?” Eddie asked, hopping out of the truck and looking over at Buck.

“Sure, sounds good,” Buck said, yawning. Eddie nodded and closed the door, hurrying up the sidewalk as Buck settled back in his seat. It had been such a long, chaotic shift and Buck was exhausted; Eddie just had to drop off a form at Christopher’s school and then they were going for breakfast. Buck figured he had time for a short nap and shut his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come.

After a while it became apparent that Eddie was going to be longer than he’d said, and Buck was getting restless. He grew bored quite easily of late, so he began poking around Eddie’s truck - changing the radio station, fiddling with the air freshener. Absently, Buck hit the button on the dashboard that opened the glove box in front of him and looked down into it, wondering if there were any travel brochures left in there from a previous road trip that he could look at. Instead, he pulled out a very different kind of pamphlet that looked like it had been shoved in carelessly and as he read the front, his eyebrows contracted with a small frown.

Understanding Anxiety and Panic Attacks - Recognize the Signs and Symptoms

Underneath the pamphlet were a couple of folded sheets of paper. Upon quick inspection, Buck saw that they were discharge papers from the hospital dated a few days earlier with Eddie’s name in the patient field.

Buck’s heart squeezed painfully as he stared at the slightly crumpled papers and then back at the pamphlet, realizing what it must all mean. Buck had been startled earlier in the shift when that doctor had called out to Eddie, but Eddie had been very resistant to talking about his trip to the hospital. Buck had dropped it for the time being as they had been chaotically busy the entire shift, but he had always intended to grill Eddie about it later. Now, he suddenly understood what must have happened. He knew from experience how scary panic attacks could be, how they could feel like a heart attack, especially if a person had never had one before.

He remembered how uncomfortable Eddie had looked when Buck had tried to confront him. Buck knew how much Eddie relied on everyone thinking he was this stoic, unmoving rock, because it allowed him to hide his feelings and keep everything bottled up. Buck was well aware that he himself and Bobby were the only two people that Eddie ever opened up to, and it made Buck’s heart hurt as he considered how shaken up Eddie must have been by the whole incident to be so resistant to telling him about it.

Buck sighed, wishing he had known, thinking about how he could try to help Eddie as he skimmed the pamphlet. He wanted to help, hating the idea that Eddie could be going through this alone. He distinctly remembered how Eddie had tried to drag Buck out of his horrible depression and anxiety after the fire truck had crushed his leg and he wanted to be there for Eddie in turn. Buck knew that Eddie had Ana, but if Buck was right about their relationship, he suspected that Eddie would be uncomfortable talking to her about his emotions. He’d always had the feeling that while Eddie clearly liked Ana and they got along well, their relationship wasn’t particularly deep and Buck knew that Eddie had to really trust someone before he would open up.

Lost in his thoughts, Buck was still looking at the pamphlet in one hand, the discharge papers held loosely in the other, when Eddie returned.

“Alright, that’s all done, let’s go t-- Buck, what the hell?”

Buck jumped as the driver’s door opened and Eddie swung himself inside, only to freeze when he saw what Buck was holding and reading through. Buck started to stammer as Eddie snatched the papers and pamphlet out of his hands and threw them back into the glove box, snapping it shut and staring straight ahead, his chest rising and falling quickly, his jaw set.

“Eddie, I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I just found that in the glove box and I couldn’t help looking at it…”

“It’s fine. It’s nothing.” Eddie’s voice was clipped, and Buck could tell he felt vulnerable and was not pleased about it.

“I mean, it’s not nothing,” Buck replied cautiously in a coaxing tone. He hadn’t been planning on talking to Eddie about this before breakfast, but then there was no time like the present. “Is this why you were in the hospital the other day?”

Eddie shot him an annoyed look, because it was obvious that Buck had seen the discharge papers so the question was redundant, but then he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah. I’m fine though.”

“Eddie… you’ve been through so much. There’s no shame in having a panic attack--” Buck began, but Eddie started the truck and cut through his words sharply.

“I don’t panic.”

Buck frowned as Eddie pulled away from the curb and began to drive without saying another word. Deciding to give him some space for a few so he could collect his thoughts, Buck stayed silent as they moved through the streets. To his surprise, Eddie pulled up in front of Buck’s apartment building and parked, still looking straight ahead.

“I… thought we were going for breakfast?” Buck asked slowly, not sure what to expect. Eddie seemed to steel himself, then glanced towards the building and shut off the truck.

“I know you’re not going to let this go, and I don’t want to do it in public. Let’s go up to your loft.”

Eddie’s voice was gruff, but Buck was grimly pleased that he wasn’t resisting. Buck knew that Eddie knew Buck would not let this slide, would not let it rest until he was sure that Eddie was okay. Taking his lead, Buck agreed and hopped out of the truck, following Eddie up to his building and then leading the way into his apartment.

“Let’s get this over with,” Eddie said in a resigned voice as he moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, Buck pulling himself up and sitting on the counter across from him. “What do you want to know?”

“What happened?” Buck asked simply. “I know you went to the hospital, you were seen by a cardiologist, and now you have a pamphlet on panic attacks. What actually happened?”

Eddie gnawed the inside of his lip, still refusing to look at Buck as he mulled over what to say. He was staring at the lower part of the counter in front of him, Buck’s shoe dangling in his line of sight, though he wasn’t seeing much. All he could see in his mind was that damn suit store, the feeling of the tightness in his chest making him feel claustrophobic and deeply uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. We were trying on suits, and then I just… collapsed. I thought I was having a heart attack,” Eddie summarized it as succinctly as he could, but he knew it wasn’t going to be enough for Buck.

“Okay, but what triggered that?” Buck asked, his voice gently prodding. “Did something upset you, or…?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, and Buck’s lips curled in a small, sad smile.

“Eddie, it’s just me. You can talk to me. You know you can trust me. Please tell me what happened.”

For a brief moment, Eddie lifted his eyes and met Buck’s gaze. Buck’s expression was earnest, concerned, and Eddie knew he was right. If there was anyone in this world he could trust, it was Buck. Still, he hated talking about his emotions, especially ones he felt like he couldn’t control. And yet, he felt like if he didn’t share it with someone he may explode because he was starting to seriously wonder what was going on in his brain.

“I… you know I’m not good at this,” Eddie muttered, and Buck nodded.

“I know, but… you were there for me when everything with my parents was going on. You told me it was okay to feel what I was feeling, and to share it. I want that for you, too,” Buck told him gently, and Eddie sighed. He felt like a hypocrite; he had told Buck those things, and he had meant it. But for some reason when it came to himself, he had different rules.

“The last time Chris and I wore suits was at Shannon’s funeral,” Eddie said, averting his gaze once more as he began to speak. “I guess that was already putting me on edge. I couldn’t stop thinking about her death and everything that had happened right before she died. I just wanted to get out of there.”

Eddie paused but Buck didn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt. Buck had a feeling that if Eddie stopped talking he wouldn’t start again so he waited patiently, keeping his mouth shut.

“I think Chris was feeling it, too, but I was too distracted to notice. And then… then the sales guy called Ana Chris’s mom.”

Buck tilted his head to the side, looking over at Eddie, slightly confused. Eddie and Ana had been together for nearly six months, it was only natural that at some point she would be mistaken for Chris’s mom. But Eddie seemed shaken and Buck wasn’t sure he was going to continue.

“What happened then?” Buck asked quietly, trying to gently prompt Eddie to speak again without spooking him. Eddie had gotten a somewhat haunted look in his eyes and Buck could tell he was getting upset. He was tempted to tell Eddie to stop, not wanting him to be distraught, but he sensed Eddie really needed to get it out there, so Buck would do everything he could to coax it out.

“I- I genuinely don’t know,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “Hearing that, it just… it intensified my thoughts about Shannon, and thinking of Ana as Chris’s mom is just - just so far beyond where we are in our relationship, and I- I…”

Eddie was starting to get visibly upset and Buck slipped off the counter, moving over to stand beside him in case he needed support.

“It made me realize that m-maybe I don’t want-- maybe things aren’t going so great, or something. I don’t know.”

“And then?” Buck prompted gently, feeling his heart break as Eddie glanced at him, clearly upset.

“And then… I don’t know. I don’t panic,” Eddie said stubbornly, though as he thought back to what had happened, he let out a long, unhappy sigh. “But… I guess I panicked. I don’t know. I felt overwhelmed, and my chest got tight and I couldn’t breathe… I got really dizzy and fell over, I thought I was having a heart attack.”

“Panic attacks can be really scary,” Buck told him, trying to reassure him. “They can definitely feel like heart attacks.”

“I don’t panic,” Eddie repeated, scowling at the floor. “I never panic. Not in the military, not when Shannon died, not when you nearly died several times…”

“Eddie, you’ve been through a lot,” Buck reasoned, trying to brush off the last part of the sentence, as though it wasn’t a big deal to him that his near-death experiences were one of the things Eddie considered most upsetting. “Do you think the shooting could be part of this? Or is it just your relationship?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably again, not responding, and as Buck watched him, he saw tears start to pool in Eddie’s eyes, despite Eddie continually refusing to make eye contact.

“Are you okay?” Buck asked quietly, reaching out and touching him, gripping Eddie’s forearm lightly in a gesture of support. This one little touch seemed to have caused him to come undone, however, and Buck saw his expression contort, his lips pressed together tightly as he tried and failed to stop himself crying.

“No,” Eddie finally blurted out, seemingly completely against his will. “No, I’m not okay.”

Buck’s heart broke and he immediately reached out to embrace Eddie, giving him a chance to pull away if he wanted. When he didn’t, Buck wrapped his arms around him and held him as Eddie choked into his shoulder, trying desperately to stop himself from outright sobbing. It was rare that Buck had seen Eddie cry - he hadn’t seen it since Shannon’s death - and Buck wished he could take Eddie’s pain away, wished he could make the world right for him again.

After a few moments Eddie squirmed in his arms and Buck got the message that he was uncomfortable so he pulled away, but he didn’t go far. Eddie seemed determined to not meet his gaze, furiously wiping at his eyes, and Buck gently rubbed his back, sensing that he really wanted comfort but was trying to stop himself from allowing it. They stood like that for a while, until Eddie’s attempts at stopping his tears dissolved and he took a shaky breath, letting them slip down his cheeks as he pulled himself together.

“It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. You’re going to get through this,” Buck told him, his hand stilling in the middle of Eddie’s back. “And I’m gonna help you get through it, if that’s what you want.”

Eddie swallowed, sniffing, as he listened to Buck speak. He’d always gone through things alone. He’d always thought that was the best way to do it. But in that moment, standing there, knowing he had Buck’s full love and support behind him, Eddie started to wonder if maybe having Buck at his side would be a much better option than going it alone. Eddie nodded slowly, glancing at Buck for a moment before looking away, nodding again.

“Yeah,” Eddie took a shaky breath and looked over at Buck, feeling the tiniest flicker of hope in his heart. “That’s what I want.”

-----------

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#911 #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Buddie #fanfic #canon compliant #but definitely pre-Buddie #evan buckley fanfic #eddie diaz fanfic #buddie fanfic #buck fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #Buck #911 fanfic #spoilers for 5x01 #9-1-1 s5 #911 on fox #9-1-1 on fox

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prouvaireafterdark · 3 years ago

Text

We’ll Let the Flame Burn Once Again - a 3x07 Coda

My take on 3x08, with 100% more bed sharing, love confessions, and blow jobs than I’m sure canon will give us tomorrow.

Also on AO3!

***

Alex is halfway through the file on the Lockhart Machine when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Michael’s name flashes across the screen like an accusation when he digs it out of his coat.

“Fuck,” Alex sighs. He’d been so preoccupied with being kidnapped and faced with a life-changing career dilemma he’d completely forgotten that he’d never returned Michael’s voicemail or given anyone an update on the Kyle situation.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back, I—” Alex starts when he answers the phone, but Michael cuts him off.

“Are you home?” Michael asks sharply. He sounds panicked and out of breath, like he’s just been running for his life.

“Uh, no,” Alex answers. “Why, what’s wrong?”

The laugh Michael lets out is strangled and more than a little hysterical. “Better question would be what isn’t, but I’ll give you the cliff notes: Jones took over Max’s body and now he’s trying to kill us.”

“What?” Alex asks, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Oh, and he’s also my fucking dad apparently,” Michael continues.

“What?” Alex says again. If that’s true, Alex has a few questions about where the hell those curls came from. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Michael says bitterly before he adds, all in a rush, “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, but if he’s trying to get to me it’s only a matter of time before he goes after you and something tells me I won’t be able to build a bomb to get you back this time. You need to get somewhere safe, somewhere he won’t be able to find you.”

Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know about our history? Alex wonders.

He looks around at the wooden beams of the abandoned barn-turned hospital room he’s currently stuck in as he replies, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t think he’ll be able to find my location.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Alex assures him. If he knows Ramos half as well as he thinks he does, he’s pretty sure this building wouldn’t even show up on a map. “Where are you going to go?”

“No fucking idea,” Michael says. “My place isn’t safe and neither is Isobel’s so maybe we’ll just find a motel for the night or something until—“

“No, don’t do that,” Alex interrupts. “He’ll probably be expecting that and with Max’s face he’ll have access to police resources. If he’s motivated enough, he’ll track you down by the end of the night.”

Michael lets out a loud sigh before he says, mostly to himself, “Fuck Max for being a fucking cop,” frustration heavy in his tone. “You got any other ideas then?”

Alex considers that for a moment before he remembers the cabin Jim left him. It’s not a top secret military bunker, but it’s remote and about as secure as they can hope for right now.

“I do, actually,” Alex says at last. “Where are you right now?”

“The hospital,” Michael answers. “Maria’s fine, Liz and I just checked on her.”

“Okay good,” he says. “He probably won’t attack you if you’re in a public place so just stay there and wait for my call, okay? There’s something I need to take care of and then I’m all yours.”

Alex cringes at his own wording, but Michael doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay,” he says. “Just—hurry?”

“I will,” Alex promises. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Michael replies, and then the line goes dead.

Alex turns back to his phone screen and pulls up his contacts. He hesitates for a minute, asking himself if what he’s about to do is really the right choice.

But then he thinks of Michael and how much easier it would be to protect him with access to all of the resources and intel Deep Sky has to offer. If Jones is even half the threat he seems, Alex has a feeling he’s going to need all the help he can get.

Alex makes the call. It rings twice before he gets an answer.

“Have you made up your mind then?” Ramos asks, foregoing a greeting entirely.

“I’m in,” Alex says, projecting confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “Now do you think I can get a ride back to my car? I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Thirty minutes later, Alex leaves Kyle in Ramos’ care and hits the road. He’s careful not to speed too much—the last thing he needs is to get pulled over right now—but he’s definitely pushing it.

Alex had called Michael back while he waited impatiently for Ramos and gave him instructions on how to get to the cabin—an indirect route with minimal traffic cameras along the way. Looking at the clock on his dashboard, Alex guesses Michael will probably have already let himself in by now.

Sure enough, Michael’s pick-up truck and Isobel’s SUV are already parked outside by the time Alex pulls into the dirt path he calls a driveway. When he opens the front door, he sees a small crowd of people in his living room, all wearing various expressions of exhaustion and defeat.

Rosa has her boots propped up on the coffee table next to Michael’s hat where she sits in the armchair in the corner, her eyes trained on Liz who looks to be wearing a hole in the carpet with all of the pacing she’s doing. Michael is sitting with Isobel on the couch, her head resting heavily on his shoulder and her arms drawn tight across her chest.

They all look up at him as he steps over the threshold, but Michael’s the first to react, his back straightening against the couch the moment he lays eyes on him.

“Alex,” he says, little louder than a whisper. Alex feels the sudden desire to pull him into his arms.

“Sorry I’m late,” Alex says, closing the door behind him. “It’s a long story, but I found Kyle.”

“You found Kyle?” Liz asks, her eyes wide as she takes a step closer to him. “Where is he?”

“With his uncle,” he answers.

“His what?” Rosa asks at the same time Liz says, “Kyle doesn’t have an uncle.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Alex says.

This time of night, Alex figures they could all use a pick-me-up, so he heads to the kitchen and gestures for them to follow.

While he gets the ancient coffee pot going, he can hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor behind him as they all find a seat at the table in the middle of the room. There’s an empty seat next to Michael when he goes to sit, so he takes it, figuring it’ll be easier to stay focused on the task at hand if he doesn’t have to look directly at him.

As he sits down, he catches Michael’s eyes shifting toward the dusty bottle of whiskey on top of the fridge, but he surprises him when he doesn’t ask for it. Alex isn’t sure if that’s for Rosa’s benefit or his own, but either way he can’t help but feel a little proud of him.

They talk for what must be hours, starting with Kyle and Alex’s involvement with Deep Sky and ending with the shit show that went down with Jones tonight. It’s a lot to process, for all of them, but they do manage to come up with a plan for tomorrow.

Michael is understandably suspicious of Deep Sky, but after Alex relays what he learned about the Lockhart Machine’s origins in Caulfield, he wants to get his hands on it. The idea of working so close to him makes Alex nervous for more reasons than one, but Michael’s right—he needs his help if he’s going to make any meaningful progress before the other shoe drops with Jones and pretending otherwise is going to get someone killed.

Liz, for her part, is eager to dive into the science to see if there’s anything she can do to help Kyle, so Alex will take her to the barn in the morning before he and Michael tackle the Lockhart Machine.

With no leads on where Jones took Max’s body, Isobel and Rosa decide to check on Maria and see if there’s any progress they can make on freeing her from the hold Jones has on her mind.

It’s as solid a plan as they’re capable of making with what they’ve got, so the moment Michael yawns behind the grimy bandana on his hand Alex is ready to call it a night.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” Alex says. He pushes back from the table and starts collecting coffee mugs to put in the sink as he continues, “There’s a guest bedroom down the hall and an extra bed in the secret bunker under the coffee table in the living room for people to crash in.”

“The what under the what?” Liz asks, bewildered.

“Alex Manes, do you have a sex dungeon in your basement?” Isobel asks, sounding intrigued and a little impressed before she grimaces suddenly and turns to Michael. “Ew, wait, did you know about this?”

Alex resolutely does not look at Michael as he sighs, “It’s not a sex dungeon.”

He considers telling them about the room’s true intended purpose, but decides against it—there’s been enough revelations about distant fathers for one evening.

“It’s just an extra bedroom,” he continues, before turning to Liz and Rosa. “The bed down there is big enough for two people to fit in if you guys don’t mind sharing. The bed in the guest room’s just a twin, so it’d be a tighter squeeze.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rosa shrugs, eyes on Liz as she continues, “As long as you don’t steal the covers.”

“Oh come on, that was one time when I was seven,” Liz protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Isobel interrupts their sibling banter to say, “Dibs on the guest room then. Sorry, Michael, you’re on the couch tonight.”

Michael shrugs like he expected that, but Alex stops him with a hand on his arm as he goes to walk toward the living room.

“No, take my bed,” he says. Michael’s eyes drop down to where Alex’s hand has caught his forearm and Alex lets him go. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What?” Michael asks, cocking his head so his curls fall into his eyes. “No, I’ll take the couch. Sleep in your own bed.”

“Michael, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch after the day you’ve had,” Alex argues. “You need a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

“And you don’t?” Michael counters. “Besides, if you sleep on that lumpy-ass couch you’re definitely going to fuck up your leg and I think we can both agree that that would be kind of a problem if Jones catches up to us.”

Alex sighs and tries to stare him down, willing him to let him do this for him, but Michael just keeps defiantly meeting his gaze.

“Oh my god, would you two shut up and just share the bed if the couch sucks that much?” Isobel asks and they both turn to look at her in shock. “It’s not like it would be the first time,” she adds under her breath.

Alex shares another look with Michael and waits a moment for him to react, to give any sign he wouldn’t be okay with that.

All he does is shrug and say, “I’m game if you are.”

If he’s honest, Alex has no fucking idea how he’s supposed to get any sleep lying next to Michael all night—his stomach is already in knots just thinking about it—but he nods his head anyway.

“Alright,” Alex agrees. “It’s just down the hall that way, I’ll show you. Does anyone need anything to sleep in? I’ve got some spare pajamas.”

There’s a chorus of yes’s all around, so Alex heads down the hall toward his bedroom to grab some clothes with Michael not far behind him.

“Looks, uh—nice in here,” Michael comments awkwardly as they step inside the bedroom, and Alex can’t help but laugh.

“You don’t have to lie,” he says as he starts digging through the dresser for some old t-shirts and sweatpants, glad for once that he never got around to cutting down the right pant leg on them. “Besides the new sheets, this is all Jim Valenti’s old stuff.”

“The clothes too?” Michael grimaces.

“Oh, no, these are mine,” he says as he hands Michael a bundle of clothes. “Bathroom’s through that door there if you want to shower. There should be an extra toothbrush and towels under the sink.”

Michael nods, and then scoffs when he sees the Air Force logo on the t-shirt Alex hands him. Alex rolls his eyes at him as he heads back out into the living room to distribute clothes to the rest of his guests.

It takes some time getting everyone settled—the sheets on the other beds need to be changed and Liz and Rosa have some questions about the giant hole in the wall in the basement—but soon enough, Alex heads back to the master bedroom. When he gets there, he sees Michael standing by the far side of the bed, water weighing down his curls and a pair of Alex’s sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He isn’t wearing a shirt either, the Air Force tee Alex gave him sitting on the comforter on Alex’s side of the bed.

Alex isn’t sure if this is an act of protest against the United States Armed Forces or if Michael is simply trying to drive him insane, but either way, Alex scoops up the t-shirt on his way to the ensuite bathroom along with the emergency crutches he keeps here and another pair of sweats for himself.

He goes through his nightly routine without issue, grateful that he’d gotten around to buying a shower chair for the cabin so he can actually wash the last few days off his skin.

He’s expecting Michael to be asleep when he gets back, but instead he finds him sitting crosslegged in bed with the lights still on, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. Alex’s heart aches at the sight.

“Hey,” he says softly as he makes his way over to the bed.

Michael looks up at him, an inscrutable look on his face, and waits for him to speak.

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay because there’s nothing about today that has been okay,” Alex tells him, “but I’m here if you want to talk.”

A small smile tugs at Michael’s lips. “Thanks,” he says.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Alex gets into bed with him, resting his crutches in the narrow space between the bed and the nightstand. Michael gets the lights with his powers, plunging the room into darkness, and Alex lies down on his back while his eyes adjust, too aware of Michael shifting in bed beside him to really let himself relax enough to sleep.

It’s a few moments later when Michael lets out a huff that sounds a little like a laugh.

“What?” Alex asks, turning to look at him. He can just see the curve of Michael’s nose in the moonlight bleeding through the curtains.

“Nothing, I just—“ Michael starts before he sighs again, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It’s a little ridiculous that this time last year we were dealing with your homicidal father and now we’re dealing with mine. The more things change the more they stay the same, I guess.”

Michael says it like it’s funny, but Alex feels a twinge in his chest at the thought of Michael going through what he went through last year. Feeling unsafe around your parent is a special kind of pain, one Alex knows intimately, and it’s the last thing he would have ever wanted for Michael. He’s been through enough.

On impulse, Alex reaches across the bed for Michael’s hand. It takes some searching, but eventually he finds it resting on top of the comforter between them. He half expects Michael to pull away from him, but he threads their fingers together instead. Michael’s palm is warm against his own, his grip secure, and Alex feels his eyes begin to burn as something inside his chest settles at the touch.

He swallows down the emotion in his throat as he tells him, “We’re gonna figure this out.”

“You don’t know that,” Michael says, scarcely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I do,” Alex insists. “Jones may have crazy alien powers we can’t comprehend, but we have the Lockhart Machine. If it was your mother who built it, it could hold the key to taking him down.”

At the mention of his mother, Michael goes quiet again, and Alex watches his chest rise and fall with the deep breath he takes.

“You really think she built it?” Michael asks at last, hesitation in his tone.

Alex gets it—this machine, if it works like the radios the Valentis had, could have alien glass with his mother’s voice inside. It makes sense that Michael doesn’t want to get his hopes up and invite the crushing disappointment he’ll feel if it doesn’t.

Alex squeezes his hand reassuringly as he answers, “I think if there’s anyone who can find out for sure, it’s you.”

Michael is silent for another long moment, so long that Alex thinks he’s done with the conversation, before he finally asks, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?” Alex asks, taken aback by the question.

Michael shifts onto his side to look at him directly. “Yesterday you didn’t want me anywhere near what you were doing and now you’re holding my hand and telling me it’s all gonna be okay if we work together,” Michael says, lifting their joined hands off the bed for emphasis. “What’s changed?”

Alex’s throat clicks as he swallows, something like shame weighing down the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make Michael feel like he didn’t want him around or that he wasn’t useful.

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologizes. “I was just scared.”

“Of what?” Michael presses.

“Of what Deep Sky would do if they found out about you,” he answers. “I knew if you kept investigating the bats, you would find Deep Sky sooner or later and I was terrified that for all their talk about changing narratives and building bridges between humans and aliens that they wouldn’t be any different than my father if they actually met one.”

“Well, you could have told me that,” Michael says after a moment, his voice softer than the accusatory tone Alex is anticipating. “I would have understood.”

“But would you have let it go if you knew you were onto something?” Alex asks.

“Not a chance in hell,” Michael admits, something like a smile playing at his lips.

Alex sighs heavily, expecting the answer but no less happy at being proven right.

“But being cagey and lying to me about what you knew didn’t make me want to let it go either,” Michael continues.

“I know,” Alex says. “I just thought—If I didn’t try to protect you and just let you walk into something like that and you got hurt, I… I would never forgive myself.”

Alex feels Michael’s thumb caress the back of his hand and closes his eyes at the sensation, letting it wash over him and remind him that Michael is here, that he’s safe—that he hasn’t failed him yet.

“Well, it was for nothing anyway,” Alex sighs as his eyes drift open once more. “Turns out you’re the whole reason they wanted to hire me in the first place, so—“

“Wait, what?” Michael asks, raising his head off his pillow to look at him better, and Alex curses his own sleep deprivation for letting him admit that so easily. “I thought they scouted you because of your dad.”

He swallows audibly before he answers, “That’s part of it too.”

“But not all of it,” Michael says, not a question but a confirmation. “What, did they think they could get an alien on their side if they played the long game with you?”

“Probably, yeah,” Alex says, hoping that’ll satisfy him.

Michael must sense that Alex is holding something back, though, because he releases his hand and sits up on the bed next to him. “Alex, what aren’t you saying?”

Alex sighs and pushes himself up against the headboard so he and Michael are on the same level. He pulls his left leg in toward his chest protectively while Michael looks at him, his eyes intense and expectant.

Alex finds the words eventually. “Ramos wanted me to join Deep Sky because he thinks I view life differently than other people.”

“Because you already know aliens exist?” Michael guesses, his head quirked to the side.

God, is he really gonna make me say it? Alex thinks, his stomach dropping at the thought.

But then he takes in Michael’s earnest confusion, how far away the fact that Alex still loves him must be from his mind that he still doesn’t get it, and realizes they can’t keep doing this to each other—talking in riddles and euphemisms because it’s easier than being honest. That’s not who Alex wants to be anymore, and it’s certainly not what Michael deserves.

“Alex?” Michael prompts him, his voice dipping with concern, and Alex thinks, Fuck it.

He’s already made a few major confessions tonight—what’s one more?

“Because I’m in love with one,” Alex admits at last, his heart thundering behind his ribs as he braces for Michael’s reply.

There’s a beat where Michael does nothing but stare at him blankly, the words taking a moment to register in his ears, before he asks, eyes almost comically wide, “You’re in love with me?”

Alex laughs humorlessly, his eyes beginning to burn again as he answers, “Of course I am.”

“But I thought—you and Nazi guy—?“ Michael starts.

“Are over,” Alex finishes for him. “Forrest was nice and fun to hang out with, but he’s not you. He’ll never be you.”

A second and a year pass in the excruciating moment Michael takes to process that statement. It makes him feel raw and impossibly exposed, like Michael is holding his beating heart in his hands and Alex is begging him not to break it, but the next thing Alex knows Michael is pushing into his space and capturing his lips in a harsh and desperate kiss.

Alex’s heart nearly bursts with relief, his leg dropping back down to the mattress. He reaches up to cup both of Michael’s cheeks to keep him close, his days-old stubble a pleasant scratch against his palms.

Michael breathes a contented sigh against his mouth as he tilts his head for a better angle and tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out against Alex’s bottom lip. Alex opens for him without a moment’s hesitation and as soon as Michael licks into his mouth, Michael’s tongue sliding across his own, Alex feels like he’s been set on fire, the desire he’s been suppressing for over a year now flaring hot and inexorable inside of him.

Alex wants with an intensity that almost scares him, his cock stirring against his thigh already and Michael’s barely even touched him. The feeling amplifies when Michael throws his leg over Alex’s hips and settles heavily over his lap, the solid weight and warmth of him pulling a moan from Alex’s throat.

Michael swallows the sound eagerly as he snakes his arms behind his neck, his hips shifting restlessly over Alex’s lap as he kisses him. Alex drops his hands from Michael’s face to wrap around his waist instead, pulling him closer until they’re nearly chest to chest.

One of them has to break the kiss eventually, and as Alex gasps for air with his head tipped back against the headboard, he can see Michael looking down at him with adoration in his eyes. He takes Alex’s face in his hands and laughs, a soft, wet sound, before he kisses him soundly once more.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs against his lips, and Alex’s grip tightens as he feels those words brush against his skin and settle in his heart.

Alex leans that little bit forward to kiss him again, slow and languid this time as the heat continues to simmer between them. Michael peels Alex’s shirt over his head and begins to rock gently against him, his ass rubbing back and forth over Alex’s growing erection with every movement of his hips.

He can tell that Michael’s getting hard too, can feel the heat of his cock through his borrowed sweatpants. Alex removes his hand from Michael’s waist and slides it lower until he feels Michael’s happy trail peeking out above his waistband.

He strokes his thumb over the hair there, teasing the skin at the edge of the fabric without ever dipping beneath it. Michael squirms against him with a soft, plaintive whimper when he does that, so Alex gives him what he wants, lets his hand slip lower so he can rub his palm over the hard line of Michael’s cock, relishing the way Michael moans softly into his mouth as his hips twitching closer on instinct.

“Are we really doing this right now?” Alex pulls away to ask, his thumb rubbing a slow circle around the head of Michael’s dick through the soft fabric.

“Are you saying you want to stop?” Michael asks him, tipping forward until their foreheads meet.

“No,” he answers.

“Then yeah,” Michael breathes, reaching down between them to cover Alex’s hand with his own. “I think we’re doing this.”

“In that case,” Alex says, “I want you in my mouth.”

“God, yeah,” Michael whispers, his cock jumping beneath Alex’s hand at the thought.

Alex gives him a hard kiss before he pulls back to say, “On your back.”

Michael climbs off of Alex’s lap without another word. He rolls over onto his back next to him, his thighs falling open to give Alex room to work with.

Alex slips between them easily and moves in to kiss him again, once on the lips before he begins pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his chin. He lingers at his neck, sucking a bruise into the spot underneath his jaw that he knows drives Michael fucking crazy.

Michael rewards him with a choked-off moan, his legs spreading wider around his hips. Alex wishes he had the time—and supplies—to ruin him properly, work him open with his tongue and fingers until he’s a keening, whimpering mess before he fucks him like he deserves. For now, though, his mouth will have to do.

Alex can feel Michael’s pulse jackrabbit against his lips as he continues down the column of his throat, Michael’s hands burying themselves in his hair. He dips his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone before he slips further down his chest, cupping Michael’s pecs in his hands and squeezing just enough to get a reaction from him before his mouth latches on to one of his nipples.

He scrapes his teeth against the bud before soothing the hurt with his tongue and Michael’s breath catches in his throat again. He’s always been so sensitive, so responsive to Alex’s touch, and Alex can’t get enough of it.

When he’s teased both of his nipples to hard buds, Alex starts to move lower still, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down the length of his belly until he stops right above the waistband of his pajamas.

“Alex,” Michael moans as Alex sucks another bruise into his skin, his fingers tightening their grip on his hair. “Please.”

Alex gives one final kiss to the sharp angle of Michael’s hip bone before he sits up to pull his pants off. He drops them off the side of the bed carelessly before he settles between Michael’s legs once more, running his palms along the soft skin of his inner thighs and enjoying the way the muscle jumps beneath his fingertips.

Michael’s cock leaks against his belly, flushed and wet at the tip. Alex wastes no more time getting his mouth on him, lapping at the pool of precome shining against his skin before he takes the slick, swollen head into his mouth. He revels in the feel of it forcing his mouth wide open and moans softly at the bitter taste he catches on his tongue.

Alex looks up at Michael through his lashes as he starts to suck him, sinking down onto his cock a little lower with every pass of his lips. Michael’s got his bottom lip caught painfully between his teeth, his eyes trained hungrily on the way his cock is slipping in and out of Alex’s mouth.

The soft, needy whimpers Michael makes as Alex swallows around him are music to his ears, stoking the fire inside of him until the pressure in his own cock becomes unbearable. Alex grinds his hips down against the mattress for relief, but it only makes him more desperate to come. He slides one of his hands straight into his own pants and groans around Michael’s cock as he starts to fuck his fist.

It’s not much longer that Michael’s hips start to twitch against the mattress and his fingers tighten their grip on Alex’s hair. He barely gets out a warning, “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” before he’s pulsing hot and wet across Alex’s tongue. Alex swallows it greedily, moaning softly as he works Michael through the rest of his orgasm and keeps chasing his own with eager, shallow thrusts.

When Michael’s had enough, Alex pulls off of his cock and buries his face against his hip as he comes quietly over his own fist, making a mess of the inside of his underwear. He’ll probably be embarrassed about that later, but for now he’s content to come down to the feeling of Michael gently petting his hair.

“Get up here,” Michael says when he’s recovered the ability to speak, tugging lightly on the ends of Alex’s hair to get his attention.

Alex groans as he lifts his head off Michael’s hip and maneuvers himself until he’s lying next to him again, his stump crossed over Michael’s thigh.

“Did you—?” Michael cuts off, eyes caught on the sticky mess on Alex’s hand now that he’s pulled it free from his pants.

“Yeah,” Alex admits, a little sheepishly.

Michael stares at his hand for a long second before he grabs his wrist and pulls his hand closer to his face. He looks Alex in the eye as he sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, grunting softly as he licks them clean.

“Fuck,” Alex whispers, his cock twitching in vain against his thigh at the sight and feel of Michael’s tongue sliding between his fingers.

“You missed sucking my cock that bad, huh?” Michael asks when he lets them fall from his mouth, voice low and rough as gravel as he pushes into Alex’s space, so close he can smell himself on Michael’s breath.

Alex lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” he answers.

Michael leans in to kiss him, quick and dirty and possessive, before he pulls back and says, “Guess I’m just gonna have to wait until the morning to return the favor then.”

“I guess so,” Alex says, hooking his clean hand around the back of Michael’s neck to bring him in for another one.

Michael kisses him back eagerly for a long moment before he pulls away. “Be right back,” he says, and climbs out of bed.

While he’s in the bathroom, Alex shimmies his dirty sweatpants and underwear off his legs and onto the floor. It’s only another minute before Michael’s back, a damp washcloth gripped between his fingers.

It’s warm against Alex’s skin as Michael uses it to clean him up, and when they’re done they settle down for bed, Alex’s head resting on Michael’s chest and his arm thrown across his waist.

And as Alex finally closes his eyes for the night, his thoughts naturally drift to all the problems they’ll be facing tomorrow morning:

Saving Kyle.

Freeing Maria.

Stopping Jones.

Unlocking the secrets of a mysterious 50 year old alien device and hopefully not going insane while trying.

But as the steady sound of Michael’s heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the loudest thought in his head is that Michael loves him.

Whatever happens come morning, they’ll deal with it together.

#malex #malex smut #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my fic #I’ve been working on finishing this for over 12 hours straight today if you catch a typo do NOT tell me lmao

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

spoiled.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: happy valentine’s day!

words: 2.1k warnings: language, over-the-top valentine’s day shenanigans

summary: “the best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.” - nicholas sparks. au!february 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

Aaron leaves rather early in the morning, leaving you in bed complaining with only a kiss for your trouble.

When you eventually get up, on track to be about fifteen minutes late to the federal building, you find a pair of post-its on the fridge.

Always the romantic.

+++

The evening rolls around and finds you on the couch with Jess and Jack.

“You gonna start getting ready?” Jess asks. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”

You look over at her. “Wait. He told you what we’re doing?”

She nods. “Yeah. You have no idea. He hasn’t done a big Valentine’s Day thing since he surprised Haley in her senior year of college. He’s been looking for an excuse.”

That’s terrifying.

“Guess I better get ready then.”

Jack’s got a funny little smile on his face, but you ignore it. You’re sure the Hotchner boys are in cahoots, but it’s not really worth it to try and wiggle anything out of him.

You head to the master bedroom to get dressed, throwing off your slouchy day-off clothes in favor of something that can take you to a fancy dinner and whatever else Aaron has planned for your evening.

+++

You walk out of the apartment, hearing Jess lock the door behind you. When you reach the front of the apartment complex, Aaron closes the car door as he hops out, meeting you halfway to the sidewalk.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He’s wearing a black button-up, black slacks, and his favorite pair of black oxfords. It’s a sharp look and one he knows you love.

“You’re looking quite dapper yourself, sir.”

The boyish grin on his face melts your heart and you take the arm he offers. Like a real gentleman, he opens the door for you and makes sure you’re inside before closing you in.

+++

The drive is quiet. You ask about the office once or twice, but it’s clear there’s nothing significant to report.

“So...what are we doing tonight?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “Dinner. And a few other things.”

+++

When he says ‘dinner,’ he’s not joking. The restaurant is a high-end, no-prices-on-the-menu type of place. The lighting is low, the environment cozy and quiet.

He must have planned this months ago. Reservations are like gold on Valentine’s Day.

Aaron’s squinting at the menu across from you. It makes you laugh.

“Need a flashlight and your reading glasses?”

“Shut up.” It comes with his own laugh, but he’s still squinting.

You finally decide on something and order, trusting Aaron’s taste in wine. When the waiter leaves, Aaron reaches across the table for your hand.

“Okay,” he says. You recognize his tone - it’s professional, like he’s starting a press conference. “No work, no kids, no serial killers.”

You smile, waiting for him to give you a little more context.

“How are you?”

What a question.

How often does the answer to that question not include work, kids, or serial killers?

Not very.

“I’m good.” You mean it. “I’m really good.”

There’s a small smile on his face. “Why?”

Are you profiling me now, Hotch?

Deciding to give him shit, you ask, “Why am I good, or is that a more general existential question?”

He rolls his eyes and you relent.

“Alright. Well…” You take a breath. “There are a lot of things to be happy about. You, for one thing.”

“Me?” He asks. He looks genuinely surprised.

Fool.

“Yes, you.” You squeeze his hand. “You are my best friend and somehow - somehow - I’ve landed you as my partner. I am living out everything I dreamed of at twenty-five.”

That pulls another smile from him. “Really?” Again, he looks genuinely surprised.

Can’t believe I’ve never told this to him.

Ridiculous

“Oh yeah. I can’t believe you never noticed. I had a huge crush on you - instantly. Derek gave me nothing but hell once he figured it out.” You pause. “Do you remember that time on the plane, really early on, when I woke up and everyone thought I had a nightmare?”

Looking a little confused by your change in direction, and you don’t blame him.

“I think so? I remember we all felt so bad.” He shrugs. “We all get them, of course - still do - but we were worried about you.”

“Right. So -”

Aaron’s head tilts to the left as he interrupts you. “Did you say ‘everyone thought’ it was a nightmare?”

Your face gets hot and you suddenly regret bringing this up at all. “Yeah. I’m getting to that.”

With an embarrassed huff, you continue. “So, it wasn’t a nightmare.”

“No?” The question comes accompanied by a frown.

“No. It was a sex dream. About you.”

You can tell he’s doing his best to hide his smile for your benefit, but there’s a threatening dimple that gives him away and you’ve simply known him too long for him to get away with anything.

“Really?” His tone is neutral, polite, but you can hear the humor behind the apparently bland interest.

“Yep.”

“What - if I may ask - was it about? Specifically?”

You take a breath and adopt the same kind of ironic professionalism as Aaron. “Well, now it doesn’t seem so notable, because i’m more than familiar with your, um, technique.”

And it’s true. Though you hardly remember the details of the dream anymore - it's been years - you know that real life doesn’t even come close.

Aaron pulls his hand from yours and steeples his fingers under his chin. He’s the picture of interest, so you continue.

“The key points are as follows -”

He holds up a finger, and you stop. “On second thought,” he says. “I think this recollection would be better served by a demonstration.”

You nod. “You’re probably right.”

“I’ll pencil it in.”

You grin at each other for a moment, the back-and-forth of it so deeply on brand you can’t help but steep in it for a second.

“So,” he says, “as you were saying before…?”

“Right.”

Back to business.

“I had a huge crush on you and could swear you were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

Never one to forgo an opportunity to compliment him when he’s not actively swatting at you, you continue.

“In the lecture you gave with Gideon and Derek, I knew you were in charge before you said anything. Even though Gideon had the years and experience on you, it was clear that everything came through you.” You attempt to explain the inarticulable. “There’s a kind of steadiness - one you still have - that radiates off of you.”

The two of you sit in that for a moment.

You continue. “And then, of course, when we met again I had to really focus on not making an ass of myself in front of Strauss.”

He laughs. His laughter makes you laugh, of course. It’s so much higher than his speaking register, so delightful in its unexpectedness.

“Okay, okay.” You stop, covering your face with your hands. “Okay this is cheesy. Promise not to laugh.”

His eyebrows rise and he forces his mouth into something that only threatens a dimple once more.

“When you shook my hand in Radner’s office, there was this crazy jolt of energy or something that just flew up my arm. It was wild. I’ve never been able to forget it, almost like a flashbulb memory.”

As promised, he doesn’t laugh. There is, however, a kind of wonder in his eyes when he replies, “You felt that, too?”

+++

After dinner (and dessert), Aaron takes your hand and ushers you into the car when you leave the lod. He doesn’t turn the way you expect.

“Where are we going?”

The dashboard casts a glow on his face. You can still spot a dimple in the dark. “You’ll see.”

+++

Your disbelief only grows when you go deeper into the city and pull up to the Hay-Adams. The valet opens the door for you, while Aaron hands over the keys to his SUV. Once all the details are covered, you take his arm again and let him guide you into the lobby.

It’s expansive. The Hay-Adams is, of course, one of the most historic buildings in the district and considered one of the best hotels on the East Coast by people who know of these things.

Aaron confirms the reservation and gets the room cards before promptly finding the elevator and swiping in for the seventh floor. You look down, remembering your attire at the last minute.

“Aaron, I don’t have my go bag.”

He shakes his head, still looking forward. “Don’t need it.”

You scoff.

He doubles down. “Do you trust me?”

Stupid question.

“Of course.”

“Go with it. I’m trying to spoil you.” He turns and presses his lips to yours, taking your face in his hand. Against your mouth, he says, “Let me.”

+++

The room is gorgeous - a one bedroom suite with a living room, balcony, and kitchenette, a huge couch dominates the center of the open living area, opposite an impressive television. Through the open door, you catch a glimpse of a king-sized bed.

This must have cost a small fortune.

As if reading your mind, Aaron takes your hand and tugs you forward. You land against his chest and he smiles at you. “Don’t think too hard. Come with me.”

You follow him out to the balcony and the view takes your breath away. The White House, well-lit in the D.C. nighttime, sits right across the street. From here, you can see Lafayette Square - beyond it, almost the whole city.

When you come back to yourself, you realize there’s an outdoor loveseat and a small table, holding champagne (on ice) and chocolate-covered fruit.

Champagne, chocolate, fancy dinner… The whole nine.

Spoiled indeed.

Aaron sits, pulling you down beside him. He pours two glasses of champagne - mostly for show, and moves the bucket to the ground. The fruit goes off to the side table and his feet go up on the small table, crossing at the ankles. You curl up against him, tucking under his arm.

“Do you like it? Too much?”

You can hear the genuine insecurity behind his cheeky question. You press a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love it. It is too much, but it’s very thoughtful. You twist to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.”

With that, the two of you settle in, quietly enjoying the company and the quiet. It’s cold, but with the outdoor heater, it’s comfortable enough that you don’t need your coat.

“Okay.”

Aaron sits up. “Yes?”

“You asked, so it’s only fair. No work, no kids, no serial killers. How are you?”

He pulls you over so you’re sitting across his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, your hand smoothing over the soft fabric of his button-up before placing it over his heart.

“I’m good,” he says. “I’m really good.”

“Why?” You feel a little like a parrot, but you’re sure that’s what he’s going for.

“I can’t...quite articulate how lucky I feel.”

That’s relatable.

“I’m happy to be here with you.” He shakes his head - a pensive gesture. “I never thought I could make it here again.”

“Where?” You ask.

“In love, happy, facing a future that doesn’t scare me. My son is happy, safe...I wasn’t sure I'd ever have any of that again after losing Haley.”

He pauses and you can feel a little sardonic smile. You don’t have to see it to know it’s there. His next admission, though, surprises you.

“I accepted that I would be a bystander in your life a long time ago. I accepted that I would likely remain a widower, a single father. I knew you’d be around and that I would be your friend, but I made peace with the idea that I’d never have you right here.” He squeezes you twice, in time with his words. It makes you smile.

He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “I’m not sure it’ll ever sink in.”

You feel much the same, but it's kind of at once alarming and amusing to hear him so beautifully articulate feelings that so closely resemble your own.

You lean back to look at him. “I’m glad you were wrong.”

He places a gentle finger under your chin and kisses you, long and languid. It’s a promise. After a little while, he leans back, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek.

“Me too.”

+++

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#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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amiedala · 4 years ago

Text

Something More (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 3: TO TRUST

Rated: Explicit (not this chapter, but future chapters will be)

Warnings: descriptions of violence

Summary: “What…” he starts.

“You got hit—” you interrupt.

“…Are you wearing?” Mando finishes, and your cheeks flush, looking down at his giant shirt you never changed out of.

“I was—when you called, I was in the fresher,” you say, scooting slightly closer to him, resting on both knees. “I didn’t have time to put anything else on before you told me to hide.”

“Oh,” he sighs, and then he’s pushing himself off the floor despite literally every single warning you spurt at him, and finally, he’s up against the same wall you’re leaning against. The space is small, small enough that two people would be pushing it, and the fact that one of those people is much larger than the other and in giant beskar armor means that your forehead is almost flush against the visor when he turns his head into you. Your breath catches in your chest. It’s not lost on you that in the heat of the moment, you didn’t run. You ignored where you were, and you forged on to save him. That didn’t happen the last time you were on this planet and the fact that belonging to something—to someone—was enough to push past the fear and do it anyway sung inside you.

The baby is in your face. You startle awake to a sea of green. He babbles as you jolt up, clapping his tiny hands together in celebration. He’s all swaddled up in his own robes, but he’s so much warmer than you are, and you groan as he hops up against you, fingers beating around your arm as you bring him in closer to your chest, hoping to leech off his warmth. Slowly, painfully, you push yourself off the ground and push on your neck to make it crack, the pain shooting up behind your eyes like starfire. You don’t want to see what shape your belly’s in.

“Good morning,” you slur through sleep, as the baby giggles and pushes into you. You just stay there, half awake, slouched against the wall of the ship, when suddenly the baby is being plucked from your arms and you’re staring into beskar.

It’s not lost on you that you’re at eye level with the Mandalorian’s crotch, and while you try your hardest to not let your gaze linger there in an obvious way, your eyes stutter once or twice looking up to where the helmet is.

“You’re awake.”

“Barely.”

He kneels so that you’re almost at eye level, and he’s dangerously close to you again. You feel your cheeks flush, the rush low in your belly, deeper than your injury, deep down somewhere warm.

“I need to see you.”

“Huh?” You manage, and hope it’s not as croaky as it seems.

“Your stomach. I need to make sure you don’t need a shot or to get checked out by a professional.”

You nod as his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, going slow, giving you a chance to stop him if you want. You want to sit on your hands and just let him take it all the way off, but you try to focus your brain elsewhere. Literally anywhere else. You fail. His hands are just as large as last night.

“You’re telling me you’re not a professional?”

“I know how to take care of injuries. I mean… a nurse droid, or something.”

“Last time I checked, this was an injury,” you pressed, a smile breaking out of your face faster than you can control it. “And you hate droids.”

“The injuries I usually take care of are my own. I can gauge how bad the pain is, how deep the cut goes. I’m not inside you,” he says, and it’s so fast that you think you imagined it, “so I can’t tell how bad it is.”

You blink at him, stunned into silence. Your heart is so loud and fast you’re terrified he can hear it. In the background, the baby is staring at you with his giant, magic eyes, and you know he can hear it, the little womp rat, the way he’s smiling at you. “Not bad.”

The Mandalorian taps your stomach, not enough to really hurt you, but enough to startle the bruise. You wince. “Bad,” he says, simply, point proven.

You let him check you out and argue about how it wasn’t that bruised, and it ached but you could move, and finally, very begrudgingly, he let you stand. You tried to gesture him up the ladder to the cockpit, but he shook his head, arms crossed.

“You first.”

You squint at him, shocked by his brazenness, shocked that he’s insinuating watching below you as you ascend the ladder, and your tummy does full back flips before you realize that he’s probably waiting to make sure you have enough working muscles in your abdomen to keep yourself upwards as you climb. You’re thankful you’re going up first, now, with the way you’re blushing again.

The ladder is a beast, but you’re up, and you’re not hurting that bad, so you make your way over to the chair where you usually hold the baby and fall into it. The ship is hurtling through hyperspace, smoother than the X-Wing did, but still shakily, and you have to avert your eyes from the rush of it because it’s starting to make you dizzy. Something brushes your leg, and you realize it’s the Mandalorian’s cape, worn and tattered, but fluttering past you even in the cockpit, and you bring a knee to your aching chest to hide your smile as he breezes past you to the pilot’s seat.

“Are you hungry?”

You can’t tell who he’s talking to until the baby looks at you, bug-eyed and questioning. “Not really.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I will. I can’t eat too soon after I wake up or I get sick. I don’t think vomiting would do my stomach any favors.”

He cocks his helmet back at you and you smile again, jutting your chin into your hand. He’s silent, but it isn’t an unsettling one. After sleeping a foot from him last night, you don’t think his silence will ever make you feel unsettled or uneasy again. It’s just there, permeating, surrounding both of you. You want to ask him a million things, and you don’t know which one to pick, but you also don’t want to force anything through the quiet.

It feels like hours have passed by the next time you open your mouth. You want to ask him where you’re headed again, but what falls out instead is, “Do you even know my name?”

He looks back at you, swings his helmet back to center, and then spins the entire chair around instead. “What?”

“I’ve been living here for almost a month,” you realize, counting the days on your fingers. “I babysit your kid. You trust me with your ship,” you say, looking up at the stars flying past the Crest. “Do you know my name?”

He stares at you. The helmet is obscuring his vision, but you know he’s staring at you. You can feel his eyes on your face, looking how your lips are parted, your hair still piled in a mess on your head.

“Of—” he starts, and then both of you are thrown sideways. Something on the dashboard is blaring, and before you can haul yourself off the floor, the Mandalorian is extending a hand to you as he navigates the ship out of hyperspace. You scramble back to the chair and buckle in, grabbing onto the baby’s floating cradle so that he won’t get knocked around either. You want to ask if the Mandalorian needs your help, but as quickly as the ship fell into disarray, the beeping stops. Your heart is hammering.

“What was that—?”

“I forgot about the shields,” he muttered under his breath, and then you look outside the window, and you realize where you are. You swallow, looking out at the planet in front of you, wide and purple and all-encompassing. You fold your legs up under yourself, not focused on anything except where you’re headed. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, hungry and roaring.

“Hey,” his voice filters back in, and it’s sharp, and you look over at him, trying to look neutral. You can tell it’s not working. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell again?”

“No,” you whisper, and then repeat it louder, “No, I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting to…be back here anytime soon.”

The Crest pulls through the planet’s atmosphere, and you breathe a sigh of relief that you aren’t anywhere close to the heart of Galactic City, that wherever the bounty’s new coordinates were, it was on the opposite side of where you had been the last time you were here. Besides, you were staying on the ship, and you didn’t have to breathe any of the air of the planet if you didn’t want to. You swallowed, and as he pulled into a landing bay, you realize the Mandalorian’s helmet is still trained on you.

“You’re not a fan,” he says. It’s not a question. “Of Coruscant.”

“No,” you say, and you don’t elaborate because you’re not sure if you can without your voice shaking.

He keeps his visor trained on you, and you try to smile, but you’re afraid it’ll come out looking more like fear. “I’ll be quick,” he says, and his voice is low, honest. It reminds you of the way he talks to the kid, not to you, but you’re too shaken by being thrown out of hyperspace and landing on the planet you almost died on to understand the significance of his cadence. “Come downstairs with me.”

You follow him, aware of his gaze on your body as you descend the ladder. In any other circumstance, you could feel it burning straight through you, but you were too focused on trying not to fall. Silently, you match his footsteps as he walks over to the armory. His body is so large, so present, that you focus on the beskar and try to keep moving. The Mandalorian pushes a lever and the armory opens, and you blink at all the metal as your eyes adjust.

“Pick one.”

Hazily, you remember he told you to pick a weapon last night, and you let your eyes survey all the glinting metal before you settle on a small blaster, one that looks like a cousin of the one you lost in your crash landing. Similar enough to be strapped to your thigh in the same belt you still have around your waist, and you fit it in there triumphantly. You give the Mandalorian a half smile, and he nods, shutting the case.

It’s dark in the Razor Crest, even in Coruscant’s glitz and glamour. You rest your head against the wall, suddenly exhausted.

“I’ll be quick,” the Mandalorian repeats after prolonged silence, after you’ve made it clear you aren’t going to say anything else. “You stay here, with the doors locked. Sleep more, if you need it.” He tosses you something, and you don’t catch it in time. You bend down to grab it, but his hand is already around it, glancing off your hand for a second too long as he presses it into your palm. “This is to be used for emergencies,” he says. You stare at it. It’s a commlink, a new, fancy one. You nod. “If… if something happens, or if…” he trails off, cocking his head at you, “if I need you to come get me, you just press this button, and you can talk to me.”

He lingers for a second longer and then descends the gangplank, and it isn’t until he’s gone that his words fully register.

If you have to come get him? That’s new.

“Hey!” you call, and you know he can’t hear you anymore, but you can’t help yourself, “what constitutes as an emergency?”

Hours pass. One, slowly, and then two, and then three. You finally eat, you make sure the baby has too. You think about showering, but you haven’t been able to lift your arms above your head since you got your stomach bruised yesterday, so you lay spread eagled on the floor babbling halves of songs and whatever random thought runs through your head. You do everything you can to not look outside at the planet around you, to ruminate on the sleek buildings. You haven’t been on Coruscant for years, not since you were first out on your own when you were still a teenager, and you’ve tried everything in you to forget what happened the last time you were on the planet’s surface.

The baby coos at your feet, and you prop yourself up on your forearms, still sore. It doesn’t ache as much as it did this morning, and your bruises have turned this ugly yellow color around the edges, but you can flex without agony, which definitely means you’re just banged up.

“Hi bug,” you say, and he giggles, climbing up onto your sore belly, and you groan. “Hi. What’s up?”

He makes a series of noises, and you can’t understand him like his father clearly can, but you can gather the gist of what he’s saying. He’s babbling away, now pointing his tiny finger up to the ceiling, and you pretend you know exactly what he means.

“You’re absolutely right. Mhm, yep, I know. Is that true?”

He claps his hands together.

“You’re right, again, you little womp rat. Excellent point.”

He giggles.

“You’re much cuter than a womp rat, you know.” You pause. “I gotta tell you though, buddy, I don’t know what a womp rat looks like.”

He gasps, all awe. You look at him. There’s something about the kid, something magical, something that feels…elevated. You look into his big eyes, and you see yourself. You know that it’s because the things are huge, but it’s that same gnawing intuition in your belly that you had when you first met the Mandalorian, the same one that told you to crash land on Nevarro instead of trying to make it somewhere else, the same one that got you out of Coruscant the last time—you shake your head, trying to clear it from your head. You softly touch the baby’s nose, just once, and he giggles and climbs into your arms.

It doesn’t take long until you start itching for something else to do, so you peel yourself off the cockpit’s floor and start cleaning, using part of your torn shirt to dust off the dashboard and the pilot’s seat, humming ancient lullabies under your breath. You stop short when you realize you’re singing, and you double check the air locks, making sure you’re safe in here. You don’t dare to put on the radio, and you don’t sing louder than under your breath, because even though you have the new blaster strapped to your hip, the memory of yesterday is still too recent in your head. It isn’t long until you find yourself in the tiny room where the fresher is, looking at yourself in the mirror for the first time in days.

Your eyes are wild, that’s the first thing you notice. Frazzled, on edge, the kind of gleam that you used to get flying in the Alliance, but without the pride and the adrenaline. Your hair is a hot mess. You touch the lock of hair the Mandalorian pushed behind your ear last night, reverently, softly. Your shirt is ripped and stained to hell, and your necklace is hanging at a strange angle, the chain link touching the insignia, totally off kilter. You see the small blaster on your hip catch the light, and you pull it out of its hold. It’s shiny, sturdy, and much newer than the one you lost in the fire. You’ve never been a perfect shot, but the gun fits in your hand as well as the old one did, and when you hold it, you feel confident enough to know how to cock it back and pull the trigger, and you think you probably hit the target.

You look forlornly at the shower, and before you can think about how sore you are, you strip the rest of your clothes off, leaving the gun and the commlink on the small counter beside the mirror. You’re planning to be quick, just a rinse and scrubbing soap off of the leftover blood and grime from the night before, but when the water hits, it’s warm and inviting and it envelops you. You let it unfurl your messy hair from your head, let it permeate into your sore shoulders and all the way down your spine, temporarily washing away the years of nights spent sleeping in uncomfortable positions on makeshift beds. You touch your fingers over your belly, following the scar straight down to where it drifts off on the left side of your stomach. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the bruises resist your fingers. You reach for the soap, and it’s blindly, and you don’t realize until you’ve been scrubbing for a minute that it’s very much not the subtle lavender scent you picked up a few bounties back, but the Mandalorian’s. It smells like clean wood and leather and strangely, cinnamon, that amalgamation of freshness that fades off skin slowly. You push the full bar up to your nose, and when you breathe in you can almost see it lathering into his skin, can almost feel your tongue licking clean up against it if he was in here with you—you catch yourself. Again. It’s there again, the arousal and want that had been long dormant before you ever met the Mandalorian. He’s infiltrated everything. You shake water out of your hair and think of anything else while your hands slip down the rest of your body, trying and failing to forget the way his voice got low when he found you hurt, how he touched you, how he held your throat with a singular hand—

Something is making noise, and you force yourself out of your fantasy to the sound. “Hey,” comes a disembodied voice, and your wet hand fumbles for the blaster before you realize it’s coming from the commlink. You sigh, turning off the water, tripping out of the fresher, scrambling to pick it up.

“Are you okay?”

“I need you to come get me.”

You stare at the commlink, then at your reflection in the mirror. You don’t have clothes on. Come to think of it, you don’t know if you have clothes to change into, and you’ve suddenly been promoted to getaway driver.

“Can you hear me?”

Even through the modulator, his voice is deep. You startle yourself out of your reverie.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I need a minute—”

“I’m going to give you coordinates,” the Mandalorian says, and then there’s a huge blast, and silence.

“Hey. Hey! Mando—”

“I’m here,” he says, but it’s gruff. “Dank ferrik. I’m hit. Here are the coordinates.”

You scramble out of the fresher, looking for clothes. You can’t find anything, and your bag must still be upstairs in the cockpit, so you shove open the alcove where the Mandalorian sleeps in a desperate attempt. There’s a shirt, just a shirt, but it falls to your knees and you make your compromise with the underwear you stepped out of before the shower. “I’m coming. Please hold on. Pleaaaaase hold on,” you whisper, low enough that you hope he can’t hear your wheedling, and then you’re up the ladder, your hair wet and wild, dripping on the cockpit floor.

“Do you have your blaster?”

“Um,” you say as you navigate the Crest out of the landing bay—hell, this ship doesn’t know how to move. “Yes?” You scramble down the ladder and back up again with your blaster in hand. You punch in the coordinates and let the ship go into autopilot as you scramble back down the ladder and grab the gun, wrapping your wet hair up in a towel.

“Grab the kid and put him in his cradle,” the Mandalorian says, and you do, and the wild look in the baby’s eyes makes you give him a quick kiss before you shut the crib and push him into the darkest corner.

“I’m almost here,” you say, and you can see what he was talking about. You’re still not near the hustle and bustle of Galactic City, but Coruscant has layers, each of them grittier than the last. The Mandalorian is attached to what you hope to the Maker is his quarry, lugging the conspicuous body up a hill, blasting at what looks like twenty other men. “I’m here. I’m gonna land—”

“You need to get out of sight,” he manages, and the commlink goes quiet. You do your best to land the ship—it’s not handling well at all—and then scamper down the ladder for the third time in wet feet. You grab the baby’s floating egg and your blaster, strapping the commlink to your wrist, and scrambling into the little alcove that holds the Mandalorian’s bed.

There’s a minute before he enters the ship, and everything is quiet. You huddle at the back of the chamber, the baby next to you with the blaster in your hand. Your towel has come loose and there are wet chunks of hair in your face, and you wait in the silence before he comes in. The cot is tiny, and not that comfortable, but this small space smells like his soap and the dirt he carries around, and despite it feeling lumpy in all the wrong place, you could absolutely fall asleep here, surrounded by him. It distracts you, and you hum lowly in your throat before you hear the hiss of the gangplank and you swallow all the air.

You’ve been seen by bounties before, they’ve made comments about you, and then they’ve been frozen in carbonite. A few looked dangerous, a few were just creepy, but the Mandalorian always let you handle yourself around them. This is the first time he’s ever told you to get out of sight, and you don’t know if it’s because the events of last night are still fresh in his mind, or because whoever he captured was dangerous. You wait with bated breath as you hear blows land, and when it’s been quiet for what you gauge is long enough before you peek out of the alcove. The Mandalorian is on the ground, and you can’t tell if he’s just resting after a fight until someone peeks back at you and you pull the trigger the second the alcove doors fly open. You rocket up on your knees, punching one arm out at a swaying body before he hits the ground, and the Mandalorian comes to. The man on the ground is livid, swinging at your bare feet, and you kick him backwards, not gracefully, but powerfully enough, and he collides with the carbonite gas, and before the Mandalorian can get to his feet, you press the button. The blue faced bounty is frozen, instantly, and you gasp in air as you sag back on the Mandalorian’s bed.

“What did I say about getting out of sight?”

“I did,” you manage, between gasps, “and then you got knocked out.”

He trains his visor on you, and you smile victoriously for a full second before you realize his hand is bloody. You follow it down to the slip in the beskar and see that there’s a nasty gash under where his hand is pressed.

“You’re hurt.” You scramble forward, grabbing the towel off your head. Your hair falls in your face, and it definitely smells like his soap, but you’re not sure if he’s conscious enough to notice. “Hey. Hey you. Mando. Stay awake.”

“’M fine,” he slurs, and you want to pull the helmet clean off his head and look into his eyes when you tell him to shut up.

“Definitely not fine,” you say, pulling him down to the ground with you. It’s messy, you know that much, and you know he has some bacta patches hidden around you, but you need the bleeding to stop. “Hey. Listen to me. I have to take this off,” you say, gesturing at the plate at his midriff. “You’re hit, I think it was a blast, but I need to make sure.”

“No,” he says, and you grab his visor and drop to your knees on his left side, pushing your palm flat against it.

“I’m not going to look at anything except the cut. You weren’t hit in the head, were you?”

“No,” he repeats, and you nod.

“Okay, then I’m not gonna see your face. I won’t look at anything else except the cut. But you’re losing blood, fast, and there’s definitely people shooting at the ship, and I need to make sure you’re okay before I get us the hell out of here.”

He nods. It’s small, but you catch it.

You inhale sharply when you lift the small piece of armor. He’s bleeding, but the wound is small, and you’re able to shove the towel on it to suffocate the blood while your hand flutters around in the small hold behind you until you can find ointment and the bacta patches. “Hey. Mando.” His hand finds your free wrist, and you stop investigating the ointment to look at him. “What?” you ask, your voice softer.

“Cauterize,” he manages, and you look back and forth between him and the wound, and you shake your head.

“It’s not that bad,” you promise, checking to see if the blood has started to clot around the wound. “Look, it’s gonna hurt for a few days, but the bleeding is slowing down, and I can give you this ointment and then put the bacta patch over it, and you’re going to be okay.”

He flails at your arm again, and before you can realize what you’re doing, you straddle him, one hand on his abdomen against the stifled wound, and one reaching up to touch his helmet, as lightly as you can, in some desperate attempt to soothe him, “I promise, I know when a wound needs cauterizing.” You point at your own stomach, hoping he’ll remember the scar. He nods again, and you exhale. “I swear, I’m going to fix it right now, okay?”

You pull the towel away and press the ointment into his skin. You can tell it stings, he hisses and groans through the modulator, and if you weren’t so preoccupied with trying to save his life, your brain would have fixated on the noises he was making as you straddled him. Once the bacta patch was secure and you were sure that it held, your fingers grazed over his bare skin. It was golden, soft to the touch, such a stark contrast to the shiny silver beskar exoskeleton that you stopped just for a moment to stare at it. You touched as lightly as you could, and once you were positive that he had stopped bleeding, you pulled his undershirt down and reattached the armor, sliding sideways off of him, resting against the same wall for the second time in two days.

It took a few minutes and lots of nervous babbling from the baby, but the Mandalorian finally eased himself back into consciousness, and when you heard him stir, you whipped around.

“What…” he starts.

“You got hit—” you interrupt.

“…Are you wearing?” Mando finishes, and your cheeks flush, looking down at his giant shirt you never changed out of.

“I was—when you called, I was in the fresher,” you say, scooting slightly closer to him, resting on both knees. “I didn’t have time to put anything else on before you told me to hide.”

“I know,” the Mandalorian says, and you inhale, hoping you didn’t just unintentionally say all of that out loud.

“What?”

He sighs, and it comes out through the modulator, but he’s not annoyed. You can tell that much through his filtered air—you know when he’s exasperated, and more and more lately, it hasn’t been directed towards you.

“Your name.”

You swallow. “Say it.”

He does. Perfectly. “It suits you. Names…Mine has only been shared once since I became a Mandalorian. I was on my deathbed, and that’s the only reason. I haven’t named the kid. He might already have one, but I don’t know it, so I don’t use it.”

You nod against the visor, your head touching his helmet. The beskar is surprisingly warm, and you pause there for a second, not wanting to move it away.

“Names don’t hold significance to me,” he whispers, and it cuts through the darkness of the hull of the ship. “I don’t need them to trust someone.”

You want to say you understand, even if you don’t entirely get it, but he sighs again and then you think he’s asleep, his helmet sliding down to the crook between your head and your shoulder. If you reached with your pinky, it could interlink with his gloved one, and you wait a few minutes to be sure he’s okay. When you hook his pinky with yours, he breathes, cinches it at the knuckle, and fades off into sleep.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din dijarin fanfiction #star wars #fanfiction #i hope y'all enjoy!!!!!#see you all next saturday for the next chapter update!!!

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daisiesandshakes · 3 years ago

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Good day my dear and first of all, let me thank you and praise you for your beautiful HC! I really enjoyed reading each one of them, and I'm grateful to have your posts filling my dashboard!🥰

If I may leave a request in your ask box... I would like to have a HC reaction of Le Comte, Shakespeare, and Theodorus with MC who gets all nervous and anxious with getting skinship from them for the first time (but eventually can handle it in time).

Thank you beforehand and do take your time and no rushing things! Stay safe and have a nice day~! 🍀✨

Hi sweetheart!

I am so honored to have you in my ask box 💝 thousand thanks for your praise, I am so happy you liked my HC!

Sorry it took a few days to write yours, and I really, really hope you enjoy it!

Here you go:

Ikevamp reactions to a MC who is afraid with skinshipping (Shakespeare, Theodorus & le Comte)

Shakespeare

At their introducing to each other William notices the hesitation as he reaches for her hand to blow a kiss on it. Might this dazzling, little dove be scared? Immediatly he interrupts his action and only bows with a warm smile on his handsome face to comfort her.

Shakespeare can read people very well and recognizes instantly that she gets scared when someone touches her directly. Dealing with his own fear (he's afraid of the dark) he knows how hard it can be to live with anxiety.

"Feareth nothing mine own fair maiden, I wouldst nev'r toucheth thee without p'rmission."

Enchanted by her sweet personality he's very eager to please and comfort her. When she's in town William tries to join her as much as possible, always walking on the side where people could touch her by accident. He would offer his arm when she needs to secure her steps and walk in front of her when it's crowdy (while glaring daggers) to guide her safely through.

Searching for ways to know her better Will arranges many, long walks at the Seine and dinner at a restaurant at a late hour when it's less crowded, chatting with her for hours. Seeking for possibilities to create a pleasantly warm and welcomed atmosphere for her, he asks her also for dinner at his Villa, reading out his newest script and teaching her old english.

Soon after William invites her to his rehearsals (he instructed his troupe members to avoid touching her), hoping that his kind and open troupe makes her feel more safe with the time. And to his greatest pleasure it seems to work. Everyone treats her like a precious, lost little sister and she starts to lose her inner tension around them.

It begins with small gestures, like helping the troupe members getting dressed with their costumes, passing over the props without flinching when they accidently touch her.

One evening she tells William how much she enjoyed the day with a bright smile while she lays her hand on his for a second. "I am so joyous to heareth those honest w'rds from thy fair lips" He turns his face away from her, so she couldn't glimpse the suspicious glistening in his eyes.

The day the play should start an actress has an accident and is not able to take part. Although she's got only a short performance, it presents an important twist in the play. Shakespeare is desperate and about to cancel the whole play, but then...

"I could do her part." MC's voice is faint but firm. Shakespeare's eyes grow wide with surprise. "Art thee sure about yond?"

She plasters a confident smile on her face. "Yes, I saw the rehearsals so many times, I could speak all lines backwards" she giggles, "and there is only one line for myself, so..."

William closes the gap between them, gazing deep in her eyes, frowning.

"T's not the line yond conc'rns me, I am sure thou art able to mast'r t. But the act'r hast to holdeth thee in his arms and I wonneth't confronteth thee with aught yond maketh thee feel uncomfortable."

She swallows hard but replies: "I can do it. When the embrace is soft and he won't press my body against his... I should go along with it. You all worked so hard for it, to see the play cancelled would hurt me much more than his arms around my waist."

The actor appears next to them "Princess, I swear I'll only hold you with the wings of a butterfly!"

With a warm and lovingly glare Shakespeare whispers "So t shouldst beest as thee wisheth. Thee can't imagineth what t means to me yond thee art willing to confronteth thy fears f'r our success."

As the stage play ends the audiance gives standing ovations. After every actor and at least William bows to the public, he rushes backstage for laudatary words. Spotting her his expression lightens up even more "Mine own muse, thee madeth t! Thee enchant'd ev'ryone and hath brought us most wondrous success!" he declares smiling. Laughing joyfully she hurries towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and Shakespeare freezes. "I am so, so happy for you Will! Everything went smoothly! Listen to the applause, Will! It seems it won't end!" As she lifts her head to meet his gaze he takes her delicate hand softly into his, and suddenly she realizes that she hugged him without any hesitation.

"Thee not feareth mine own toucheth anym're, little turtledove?" he asks barely audible.

Lost for words she only shakes her head, thightening the grip around his shoulder. Leading her hand slowly up to his face, Will watches her reactions closely, ready to stop at any second when her features show displeasure. But the radiant expression in her eyes and the smile on her lips stays, and he nuzzles his cheek into her palm with a sigh. Resting her cheek against his chest she clings to him and both close their eyes, enjoying this special moment, knowing there are a lot more waiting for them to explore.

Theodorus

At first he's just annoyed by the "new, helpless hondje" that stays with them at the mansion. But after a few days he learns from a conversation between Vincent and her that she loves art as much as he does, what awakens his interest. Paying more attention to her now he feels attracted to her charming personality and repartee (mostly when it comes to repel Arthur's salacious remarks).

In one of those moments he notices her unusual pale face and the tension in her body, trying to keep a distance between her and Arthur. Although his "threatening words" and his advances are supposed to be merely a jest, she looks like a cornered animal. It clicks in his mind.

Pulling Arthur back at his collar he growls "That's quite enough, get your besotted mess off her. That little hondje will only bark for me." A bit confused and wide eyed Arthur leaves you both alone.

Theo sighs. "You can't bear the touch of someone, am I right?" She didn't expect that he of all residents would recognize it first and in her surprise she only nods. Theo buzzes "Then stay around me and Vincent, that should be safe for you. I'll talk to the others, there is no point in hiding your anxiety. You shouldn't look over your shoulder in fear like a scared, helpless puppy everytime someone gets close to you."

Theo talks to the other residents the same day (threatens Arthur to beat the sh*t out of him if he dares to come too close to her again). From now on everybody still treats her kind and caring, but keeping a respectful distance.

Taking her right away everywhere with him he makes sure no one touches her, even by accident. In crowded places people make quickly room for them only due to his intimidating, beaming glare, ready to spread some black eyes if somebody should be so stupid to lay their filthy fingers on her.

She asks him why he's doing all that for her but Theo only replies "You can't bear it to be touched, I can't bear to have a sad, whining puppy around me. That's all."

But she realizes real soon that he is a very caring and soft person despite his harsh words.

Taking King out for a walk - "Hondje come with me. You need some fresh air and King likes you, so he might behave a bit when you come with us."

"You don't think you could go to town shopping without me, don't you? You need someone to take you by your leash. I'll come with you. We need more sirup either."

Sharing the love for art he'll even invite her to join him in his search for new talented painters. The more time they spend together, the more she seems to lose her anxiety around him, feeling comfortable in his presence. One evening both strall down the Seine he calls her near "Look at this picture hondje!" He stands close to the canvas, his left hand stroking over the frame. She rushes over to his right side and leans in, her shoulder touching his chest. "This is beautiful, Theo!"

"Yes, it is..." he mumbles into her hair, not sure if he's still talking about the picture, inhaling her sweet scent.

After they both discovered this talented painter Theo invites her the next evening into his favorite bar to celebrate this occasion.

It only takes a few drinks (although the bartender had the instruction to water her drinks down) and she's already tipsy. "Oi, hondje! We should leave now, I don't want to carry you back to the mansion!" She only giggles at this imagination and to his surprise no snubbing remark follows. Leaving the bar she stumbles soon, losing her balance. "Watch out, hondje!" He grabs her by her arm before she could fall to the floor. "Ouh, I feel dizzy Theo... would you mind to take a rest at this bench over there?" Nodding he immediatly leads her over, not letting go of her arm. As they sit down next to each other he mumbles "I hope it was okay to hold you at your arm, but I was afraid..."

She cuts him off, giving him a sweet smile "Nah, it was okay Theo. And at least you didn't have to carry me. I am not that drunk..." suddenly a hickup interrupts her. "Oooh nooo..." she whines.

Theo bursts into laughing "I see..." after a second she joins into his laughter. When the last giggle fades, she closes her eyes, resting her head at his shoulder. "I feel so tired all of a sudden."

"Don't mind. You can rest here with me for a while if you need to." he replies with an unusual soft voice. Very slowly he puts his arm around her, in case she wants to raise an objection. "I am not scared of your touch anymore." She murmurs, "I have to admit I'm really enjoying this right now." her words are almost inaudible while she nuzzles her face at his chest. Theo freezes in disbelief, an unknown warmth spreads through his entire body and his heart feels like bursting, relieved that she can't see the heat in his cheeks. Listening to her steady breathing he knows she fell asleep and he kisses her temple ever so slightly "So I have to carry you nevertheless." he mumbles with a grin. In the future he'd make sure no one ever gets the opportunity to touch her. But from now on his actions comprises a further reason.

Le Comte

He's living for centuries now and is able to read in people's heart almost like in an open book. Le Comte recognizes her reserved way when it comes to physical touch immediatly and invites her to his room for a talk. After he gives her a graceful and encouraging smile she tells him hesitantly about her anxiety, feeling embarressed to tell him about her inner demons.

"Ma cherie, don't feel ashamed. There's no reason for that. I'll ensure that everyone in the mansion respects your fears. And please don't hesitate to talk to me about anything that might concern you. Anytime."

This day all residents have a personal conversation with Le Comte in his room.

He will buy her several pair of exclusive leather gloves, so it might be easier for her to get along with her fear to be touched at her hands.

Knowing that public and crowded places are going hand in hand with the fear of being touched by accident he makes sure that almost everything her heart desires would be delivered into the mansion. A few days after her arrival she stumbles over a bunch of new dresses in her room and quite surprised she asks him how he knows her dress size. With slight flushed cheeks and avoiding her gaze he answers that he only has a good eye. (Liar... he observes her so intensly he could tell how many eyelashes her left eye has even when Sebas would wake him up from his deepest slumber...)

He will gladly take every opportunity talking to her, hoping that knowing each other better will reduce her tension and anxiety. Treating her like a princess with the utmost respect and warmth, she begins to relax in his presence. Strolling with Comte through the garden, taking tea in the gazebo, chatting about nothing and everything. Everytime they spend time together the space between them seems to melt a bit more.

Taking a walk early through the garden together became a morning routine in the meantime and today it's warm and the sky bright blue. Suddenly King rushes playful towards them and jumps on her, trying to lick over her face. Totally caught offguard she loses her balance and stumbles backwards but le Comte immediatly catches her at the waist. "King, come here you stubborn beast!" Theo yells but King is already rushing further into the mansion. Theo apologizes quickly to them as he runs after his dog. "Are you hurt, ma cherie?" Concern lies in St.Germain's glance and voice. She giggles. "No, I am fine. King is such a cute "beast". Thank you for catching me Comte." At this moment he realizes that his arms are still around her and with an almost inaudible sigh he pulls his hands off her waist. "I am so glad nothing happened to you, ma belle." Then it comes to his mind, that she didn't complain at his touch. She didn't even flinch... pure happiness spreads through every nerve of his body and with a joyful smile on his lips they continue their walk.

A week later the weather ist still nice and warm, so she decides to visit the market place in town, getting some fresh air and maybe some fruits. The market is almost over as she arrives and less crowded. With a happy smile she studies the remaining goods as a salesman appears directly in front of her, eager to sell her one of his scarves. "A little dove like you should wear a scalf, the wind still can be chilly..." Smiling politely she refuses, but the seller doesn't give up. "Here, this one matches your beautiful eyes" he goes on, his hands almost around her neck with the scarf. She freezes in panic, her face pale with shock as suddenly someone appears behind her, grasping the sellers'hands, holding them away from her neck. "Sir, what do you think you are doing, to harry a young lady like this?" Comte pushes the hands of the seller with one arm away, his other arm already protective around her shaking form. The burning anger in his eyes makes the salesman flee in panic without another word. Comte's gaze softens instantly as his eyes roam over her body with utmost concern. "Cherie, did he hurt you?" Still shaking she replies sobbing "No... It was o- only ..I was only scared he would touch me." Without thinking his grip around her tightens but in the next moment he takes a step away with a flustered expression on his graceful features "I'm begging your pardon, ma cherie, I shouldn't ... It wasn't my intention to embrace you without permission."

Shaking her head softly she closes the gap and leans back into his arms, her voice faint and pleading "Don't worry Comte, I am not scared of your touch anymore. If you don't mind, would you hold me a bit longer? It makes me feel safe." Stunned by her words he softly put his arms around her, his heart swelling with affection. As she rests her cheek against his chest with a sigh he whispers "I would so anything for you, ma cherie. And to hold you in my arms is my greatest pleasure." Slowly she lifts her chin to meet shiny golden eyes, in their dephts swirling so much love, adoration and yearning it takes her breath away. She answers his unspoken question with a lovingly smile.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp shakespeare #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire comte

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fossntwriter · 3 years ago

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Don’t Look Down

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: you’re in the elevator in the Washington monument when it malfunctions

You sighed, checking your phone one last time for a message from Peter that might tell you anything about where he is before putting it in the bucket with all your other belongings. Nothing. You chucked it in the plastic bin with your backpack as it got scanned by the security guards who worked at the Washington Monument.

Under other circumstances, you would be really excited to be doing this tour with your team. But after Peter suddenly left without telling you why or where he was going, you just were worried about him and a little angry.

“You okay (y/n)?” You snapped out of your thoughts of Peter, looking to meet Liz’s concerned face, “You seem a little down today.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, I promise.” You offered her a small smile, trying to convince her that you were fine. “Just a little tired is all.”

She nodded, “Well we just won Nationals! Cheer up! This will be fun!” She grabbed your arm, smiling as she guided you with her to the elevator that you and the rest of your team would take to the top of the monument.

You genuinely smiled at how caring Liz was. She always tried to keep everyone happy and you appreciated it.

The elevator closed after your guide stepped in. She introduced herself, starting to explain just a little bit about the Washington Monument. Moments after she finished her introduction, she hit the ‘up arrow’ button on the dashboard of the elevator and you all started moving up.

You and Liz payed close attention to the guide as she explained all about the monument, it’s history, significance and all the fun details about it. The tour actually did start to lift your mood, you were a junkie for history and doing a tour of one of the most significant monuments in all of America with your friends was something that helped take your mind off the fact that Peter mysteriously left.

Climbing to the top of the monument, the elevator jolted and everyone inside stumbled a little, trying to catch their balance after the surprise stop.

“What’s going on?” Your teacher, Mr.Harrington, asked the guide obviously concerned and skeptical.

“Everybody stay calm please,” the guide tried shouting over the panic that consumed you and your teammates, “This sort of thing happens all the time, I can assure you that all will be fine!”

With that, she opened the emergency latch and a panel slid open in the roof of the elevator. She pulled herself out of the metal compartment and onto the top of it.

“There’s a floor we can stay on right here,” she called down, “We will lift everyone out one at a time and we’ll wait here for help.”

Everyone nodded, and rushed towards the hole in the top as they tried to be the first one out of the stopped elevator.

“Me first! Me first!” Flash shouted as he crammed his way to the center of the crowd of students wanting to get out. He held up the trophy from Academic Decathlon, and beckoned the tour guide to take it and help him up after.

You rolled your eyes at the scaredy cat nature of the guy who always talked highly of himself.

You and Liz, being the caring students you were, helped lift everybody else out of the elevator before you became concerned with yourselves. You would rather your friends got out safely, if anything happened to them and not you, you would feel guilty and responsible.

After lots of lifting and teamwork, all who were left in the elevator were you, Liz, and Ned.

“Liz, you next.” You said, wanting your best friend out of the elevator.

She gave you a look that said she wanted you to go next instead of her, but before she could say so, you interrupted, “please.”

Reading the concern in your face, she nodded. Just as you and Ned were getting ready to lift Liz up, the elevator jolted again and this time you were falling. The three of you screamed as the elevator started falling fast.

Seconds later, when you were least expecting it, the elevator stopped abruptly, sending the three of you to the floor hard. After the shock of not dying, you groaned, as did the others, and got up.

Looking through the hole in the top of the elevator, you were surprised to see Spider-Man holding you three and the elevator up with one of his webs. He looked way smaller in person than on TV.

“Yes!” Ned shouted, jumping up and down causing the elevator to creak with the added pressure.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah!” Spider-Man shouted, struggling to hold onto the elevator when Ned jumped, “Hey big guy! Stop jumping.”

Ned immediately stopped, “Sorry, I’m just happy you’re here.”

You nodded in agreement, relief flowing through you at Spider-Man’s appearance. You were so relieved you didn’t even realize how coincidental it was that the New York super hero happened to be in Washington DC at the time your team needed him.

“Okay, there’s an open floor here, I can get you all up here and safe.” He explained.

“Ned, then Liz, and then me.” You instructed the other two in the elevator who hesitantly agreed, just wanting to get out, not risking another near death experience.

Spider-Man used multiple webs to web the elevator to the wall, so it would be supported while he got the three of you out.

He reached down through the hole and grabbed onto Ned, lifting him out of the elevator in minutes. His strength was impressive, making it look effortless to lift Ned out. He wasn’t even out of breath moments later when he showed up again to take the next person.

“Liz, your turn.” You told her motioning for her to take his hand.

She nodded, worried etched into her face for you considering you would still be in the elevator after she was out.

“I’ll be okay.” You reassured her before she took Spider-Man’s hand and he hoisted her out of the metal container and brought her to the next floor, where Ned was waiting.

You only had to wait for a minute until you saw the man clad in the red and blue costume come back down for you.

“Ready?” He asked you, with a voice that sounded a little familiar. However, you didn’t concern yourself with his voice at the moment, more worried about the two of you getting out and not falling to an early death.

You nodded, and just as he was about to take your hand and lift you out, the webs holding the elevator snapped and you were falling again. You shrieked, closing your eyes as you fell at an alarmingly fast rate.

Just as you thought it was over for you, something gross wrapped around your hand and the elevator kept falling while you seemed to be frozen in mid air. You had gone right through the hole in the top. You saw a white web stuck to your hand. Following along the web you saw Spider-Man holding it, and holding onto another web with his other hand that was attached to the floor where Ned and Liz where waiting.

“I got you.” Spider-Man soothed you as your body shook with hard breaths, tears sliding down your face at the stress of the situation. You looked down as the elevator hit the floor of the shaft with an ear-deafening crash. The blood in your veins ran cold at seeing how high you were dangling in the air, being held up by only a single web.

“Hey, hey,” he called your attention back to him. “Look at me okay? Don’t look down.”

You nodded, holding eye contact with his wide masked eyes. He started pulling you up to him. You let him. Even though you didn’t know the man behind the mask, you trusted him with your life. Not that you really had a choice right now, but if it came down to it, you would trust him no matter what.

When he pulled you up to him, you grabbed onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“A-Are you okay?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I- I think so.” You stuttered out, still afraid of falling, although you knew you were completely safe with him.

“Good,” He breathed out, “I’m going to pull us up now.” You nodded at his plan, holding onto him tightly.

Keeping your face buried in his shoulder and neck, you let him pull the two of you up to the nearest floor where you knew you’d finally be safe for the first time in what? Ten minutes? Twenty?

A couple of minutes later, your feet hit solid ground and you looked up. You were on the same floor as Ned and Liz, but you saw your Decathlon teammates, teacher and tour guide rushing down the stairs from a couple floors above.

You were immediately bombarded with questions, people frantically wondering if you were okay and what it was like to be that close to Spider-Man.

You assured them that you were fine, just a little shaken is all. After a couple minutes of catching your breath and reassuring your friends, you turned to Spider-Man, wanting to thank him.

But he was gone. You looked out the window and saw him webbing from building to building as he gracefully went to wherever he was needed next.

#reader insert #spiderman #Peter Parker #Peter Parker x reader #Spider-Man x reader #Spider-Man homecoming #elevator scene #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

#bnha 290 #dabi #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #todoroki shouto #todoroki rei #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 21

Hannibal and y/n go after Chase and uncover a much larger operation than they could have imagined.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: racism, mention of sex trafficking, religiously-motivated sexism/paternalism, American evangelism

Faced with the reality that you could die or worse, you wanted to go out with a bang. You wanted to take Borrasca down with you.

Hannibal checked the phone while you took stock of the weapons. Between the shotgun you just bought and the handgun in your car, you had enough firepower to have a chance at making it out alive.

You loaded the guns into your car. That way, if you were stopped, the licensing and registration would be consistent. Your car, your guns. Then there was the cover story. Newlyweds, on a hunting trip through the mountains.

"He's on Cactoctin Mountain." Hannibal announced, carefully scrolling through the information on Will's mangled phone.

You shut the door and put the key in the ignition. "Great, that's about an hour and a half, we should be there by sunrise."

“It’s the same mountain as Camp David.” He added. “Now, is that symbolic or--?”

“Or is he just too stupid to realize it’s a bad idea to headquarter a sex trafficking operation on the same mountain as the presidential retreat?” You finished.

Hannibal gave you a smile, as if to thank you for filling in with what he was too polite to say. “I’m inclined towards the latter.”

“Oh yeah.” You nodded. “Absolutely the latter.”

“Regardless,” He said, examining Will’s array of apps. “We have time to browse the contents of Will’s phone for any relevant information.”

“Good idea.” You agreed, pulling on to the street. “Check his notes and his camera.”

“It looks like he was recording the questioning when he and Jack Crawford approached Pastor Armitage.” He observed.

“That’s great.” You exclaimed. “Play it. Maybe it’ll give us something to go off of.”

The audio was grainy, but at max volume, you could make out two distinct voices. One belonged to Jack, meaning the other had to be Pastor Armitage.

“Calvin Armitage, my name is Jack Crawford and this is Will Graham. Can we have a few minutes of your time?”

A short silence followed, during which Jack presumably showed his badge.

“Of course. We here at Holy Eternal Shepherd support our officers of the law.” Armitage said. “If you’re here about the blue lives matter potluck-”

“I’m sorry, let me be more clear.” Jack interrupted. “We’re from the FBI. Sources have indicated that Chase Mulvaney was employed at this church and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

After an incriminating silence and the sound of a closing door, Armitage spoke again. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”

“No, thank you.” Said a cordial, but annoyed, Jack. “Mr. Armitage, what do you know about the Ministry of Truth?”

“Wait, hold up.” You interrupted. Hannibal paused the playback. “Is that an Orwellian reference?”

“That would not surprise me.” He conceded. “We already know he doesn’t understand satire.”

“The Ministry of Truth is a nonprofit that keeps the lights on around here.” Armitage answered.

“You have a very strange definition of the term ‘non-profit’.” Will added. “According to their most recent tax records, they funneled over ninety million dollars into this place.”

“We are very blessed.” Armitage said, dismissively. “It’s because of the Ministry of Truth that we don’t rely on our congregation for funds. We want to allow our family the luxurious spiritual experience they deserve at no cost.”

“But you still accept donations, do you not?” Jack probed.

“Well, there are extra expenses when you serve so many people.” Armitage rationalized. “The donations are really just investments into our community. Mission trips, vacation bible school, youth groups and the like.”

“Camp Big Brother one of those?” Will asked.

You and Hannibal shared a look of disappointment but complete non-surprise.

Armitage clicked his tongue. “Well, it’s a wonderful program for young Christian women and girls. About two hours from here, secluded, a perfect place to get away from the city to relax and focus on god’s true design for womanhood.”

“That sounds lovely.” Jack said without any real sincerity. “And they employ predominantly female teachers?”

“Err.. no.” Armitage answered. “Hence the name ‘big brother’. It’s a male-led program. Jesus says that men are to act as spiritual guides for the fairer sex.”

“I see.” said Jack. You could hear the contempt in his voice.

Armitage grew defensive. “Are you here to judge us for our religious practices? Because last I checked, the Free Exercise clause says-”

“I’m familiar with the constitution, thank you.” Jack stopped him.

His defensiveness turned accusatory. “Then why has the FBI sent agents to judge our expressions of faith?”

“Because Camp Big Brother doesn’t exist.” Jack countered.

A third long, incriminating pause followed. “Come again?”

“There are no records whatsoever of a church mission under the name Camp Big Brother existing anywhere in the country.” Jack explained. “The property does not exist outside of the walls of this church.”

“I thought you came to talk about Chase Mulvaney, Agent Crawford.” Armitage’s voice rose. “Whom, for the record, does not represent our faith. A real Christian-”

Jack cut him off. “I’d rather you not change the subject, pastor.”

“You are a guest in my church-!”

“Just tell us where Camp Big Brother is.” Jack’s voice hardened. “Tell us what Mulvaney is doing to those missing girls.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Sir, if you continue to deflect,” Jack warned. “I’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice or worse.”

The click of a revolver filled the air. Both Jack and Will withdrew their guns in response. Another long pause.

“Hello, police?” Armitage said, faking fear. “A large black man posing as a federal agent is harassing me. He has a gun.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jack said, though not without a twinge of nervousness. “Put the--”

The recording abruptly ended in the middle of the sentence. You realized you’d been sitting at the same stop sign with your turn signal on for who-knows-how-long. You made the turn, then pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. You searched your entire vocabulary for words that weren’t just ‘fuck’.

“Fuck.” You said, failing entirely.

“I’m not surprised that this is bigger than Chase.” Hannibal replied, always one to approach fear with logic. “But that means it’s bigger than us.”

“You’re right.” You nodded, reaching for your phone. “Which is why we need a fail-safe.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yep.” You said, fingers flying across the phone. “Could you send me the address?”

Within seconds, you received the address and just as soon sent it off. A few minutes’ silence passed before getting a message back. “There we go.”

Hannibal glanced at your phone. “What’s the plan?”

“I asked Charissa to call me before she leaves for work at noon.” You said, putting your phone on the dashboard. “If I don’t pick up, she’ll send the address to Jack.”

“That’s a true friend.” Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Seeing that she didn’t even ask you why.”

You put the car into drive. “I’m sure she already knows.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #hannigram #poly hannigram #will graham #will graham x you #will graham x reader #the sommelier #jack crawford #tw racsim #tw christianity #tw sex abuse

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another-fantasy-world · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request a part 2 to your Valkyrae imagine?

GIF isn’t mine. Credits to the owner!

Title: Idol’s Inspiration Part 2

Pairing: Valkyrae || Rae x Fem! Reader

Summary: A collection of moments involving an idol and a streamer

Warnings: Cursing?. Just pure fluffiness

Word Count: 3,043 words

I had way too much ideas on this one so this is going to be a collection of said ideas. Have fun!

Actually, I saw someone on my dashboard asking for Rae x Reader imagines, so hi to that person!

You can read Part 1 Here

➽───────────────❥

You took a couple of days before you gathered the courage to actually message Rae, you also spent those couple of days staring at the paper containing her number and your phone, which also has her number punched in.

“Okay. I just have to press send...” Your fingers hovered over the icon as you chewed your lips in nervousness.

“Oh damn it.” Luna groaned before snatching your phone and pressing send, barely giving you time to retaliate

“Hey!” You complained, staring at her in disbelief

“You were taking too long” She shrugged, sipping on her milkshake as she tossed your phone back to you

You only had time to roll your eyes before phone vibrated.

‘About time you texted me, I was beginning to think you forgot. Oh and totally, I could make a lobby for you rn’

‘Sounds good! I’m free this Friday!’

You smiled, well, looks like you’re playing with your favorite streamer group this Friday then.

Your bandmate Jace actually owns a gaming pc, to which you borrowed to play among us, which ended you up here, in his room, on a private discord call with Rae, her helping you set up for tomorrow.

“So is this your first time, ya know? Playing among us?” Rae asks as the download bar for the proximity chat

“Oh no. Uhm, My bandmates and I play all the time, sometimes on public lobbies and sometimes we drag our crew to play, especially while on the tour bus. Plus, I watch you scream and play all the time so you don’t have to worry about me Rachel” You explain, smiling softly at the memories, trying to ignore the feeling of content and satisfaction at how easy her name rolled out of your tongue

“That’s cool.” She replies, about to say something when a bark interrupts her

“Mika! Hi! Hi baby~” You hear her coo, your smile widening

“Raeeee! Tell Mika I said hi!” You chuckled

“Y/N says hi!” She says, running her hand through Mika’s fur, the white furball now sitting in her lap

“Awee~ You’re both so cute~” You coo, laughing when Rae hid herself behind Mika

You spent the night talking about random stuff, setting up for the game and running a test run with her, but then laughing when you realized you can’t play with just the both of you, ultimately deciding to start early tomorrow for a test run. Her also adding you to their discord before sleeping.

“My new favorite seafood!” You furrowed your brows when you heard Sykkuno’s voice fill your ears when you joined the discord call

“Shrimp.” Brooke giggled

“OOOOOHHH. So that’s why they were saying shrimp for Rae. I was like, what does that even mean?” Rae’s sentence caught you off guard, especially since you just tweeted that exact same phrase before logging in.

“shit.” You mumbled, having dropped the lid of the water jug you were drinking from.

“Y/N! HI HI HI HI” Rae greeted

“Hello.” You replied, a little overwhelmed at being the center of attention.

“Pfft- My chat is saying shrimp for Y/N now” Sykkuno announces

“Mine too” Brooke agrees, soon followed by the rest of the lobby, making you laugh

“I’m Sorry, Sorry! Actually, I may know why that’s happening. Fun fact! I actually gave people permission to shrimp for me on an interview, since I found it funny, especially since I’m also shrimping for someone.” You explained

“Oh yeah! I saw that clip.” Rae mumbles, trying to decide which color she should be in and what hat she should wear

“I wonder who Y/N is simping for. Hmmmm. Who could that be? Hmmmm.” Toast teases

“Yeaaah. I wonder who that could be.” Poki replies, her teasing tone much more evident

It had been a couple weeks now since you first played with Rae and her friends, her friends who are now also your friends. You were pressured to stream on YouTube by your fans and also Rae, who you now have late night talks with.

“Y/N! Hiiiiii!” You hear Rae as you rounded, soon followed my Corpse’s voice

“Choke me-” Corpse started

“LIKE U HEYT MEH BAT U LAB MEH-” Rae continued, mispronouncing words that made you chuckle

“Lowkey wanna date me when you hmm me.” You sang, connecting the wires

“NEW SONG! NEW SONG! Corpse and Coldify! C and C!” Rae exclaimed, her little red bean circling you and Corpse

“Oh yeah, definitely, Corpse? You up to it?” You ask, doing a little wiggle to show your excitement

“Hell yeah! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” he does that deep voice thing that made you flinch

“I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the sound of my voice.” Rae exclaims, talking to chat you assume.

You rolled your eyes, finding Rae’s voice beautiful. You jumped out of the vent, knowing that no one was around, making her scream

“Hi! Just wanted to pop in and let you know that your voice is actually beautiful and I would love to sing with you some time. That’s all, I’ll go back to killing now, Oh! you might want to check vitals, love.” You say, hopping back into the vent, laughing silently. Then abruptly stopping when you realized you called Rae “love”, glancing at the chat, who were now spamming your ship name with Rae

Seeing Lily alone, humming a tune, you quickly popped out of the vent, sliced him in half before a meeting was called, Ludwig finding Toast’s body.

“Before we start. I just want to say, to the person who called me “love”... You don’t get to call me that then run away!” She exclaims

“Sorry! I got embarrassed!” You pouted. You wiggled your eyebrows at your chat, smirking slightly

“Uh-huh. Oops, Sorry Lud. Carry On” Rae says, letting Lud explain his “Different Universe” theories about how Toast died.

“Heeeey...” Rae trailed out, her cornering you in storage

“Hiiii?” You smiled nervously. You don’t know what was happening in her mind

“Soooo... Babuska?” You immediately got what she was implying, nodding frantically, before realizing she couldn’t see you

“Yeah. Yeah let’s do this!” You both walked out, Rae on the lead while your white character trails after her

“OH LOOK! There’s Corpse! And Sykkuno! Hiiiiiii!” She greeted cheerily, somehow you could see the evil smile on her face

“oh- Oh. Hi Rae! We’re just shooting some space rocks here!” Sykkuno says, her green character circling Rae

“I see. I see... Babushka.” Rae states, you wait a couple of seconds letting Sykkuno and Corpse panic first, before slicing Corpse in half.

“OH JESUS! You killed Corpse! You killed him! You really kil-” He was cut off when Ash creeped behind him, biting his head off

“Thanks Ash.” You say, laughing as Rae gasped and laughed as well

“Rae~ Oh Rae~” You chuckled, looking for the brunette

“What?!” She exclaimed from her spot behind the seismic reactors

“Oh uhm, are you streaming right now?” You asked her, preparing yourself for what you are about to say.

“Uh yes? Duh?”

“Ohkay... well, hypothetically, If I were to ask you out, is it okay if I do it on stream orrr?”

“Well, hypothetically, I would be fine with it either way, yes.”

“Oh okay!” You clear your throat

“Ms. Valkyrae, The Valkyrae, Rae, would you please grace me with your presence on this coming friday night and allow me to buy you dinner, m’lady?” You say in your best posh voice

“...Yes” She says in a small voice

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7!” You say

“Great! Okay”

“Great. I’ll kill you now.” you say

“Wait what?!” she exclaims, her scream perfectly cut when the victory sign flashes on your screen.

“THE AUDACITY! HOW DARE YOU! I- I CAN’T EVEN” She rages

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, laughing your ass off

“I’m on Y/N Protection Services! She’s been dying a lot lately!” Rae exclaims, you rolling your eyes at her dramatics, both of you were impostors.

“Well, thank you m’lady” You replied, faking gas

“Ooooooh! I have speci, come.” Rae says, her red character slicing toast nonchalantly when you passed him doing telescope

“Uhm-”

“Shh.”

And suddenly, when the decontamination doors open, Poki emerged from it, panicking you killed her.

“Oh shit! No! Wait! I’m sorry! Pokiii!” You whined, following Rae into decontam

Finding Janet in Speci, You go to say hi, only to be interrupted by the body being found.

“OH NO! TOAST! He was just with me! OH JESUS!” Sykkuno exclaims, making you bite your lip to avoid laughing

“Where’s the body?” Jack asks

“Medbay, by the telescope” Brooke answers

“It has to be Y/N! She’s the only one who could’ve killed Toast!” Janet accused

“Hey! What?! Why me?!” you complained,

“You came from upper decontam! Toast’s body is in medbay, That’s sus.” Janet says, you were about to defend yourself when Rae chimed in

“There is a possibility that Y/N is the impostor.” She states

“Wha?! RAE?! You- You were with me in speci!”

“What? No I wasn’t! You’re lying! I lost you when I was doing gas! I was looking for you everywhere!” Rae says making you look at chat with a pout

“I didn’t see her there either...” Janet backed her up

“Wha?! Guys?! Come on, let’s skip! There’s barely enough evidence!” You desperately say, trying to save yourself

In the end, 7 heads voted for you.

“...Y/N will remember this.” You state before being thrown off the ship, welcomed by Poki and Toast’s laughter

“Yeah. Yeah. Hmmpf.” you huffed at Poki and Toast

“My girlfriend just betrayed me. Rae betrayed me chat, she just, she pushed me off the plank. She just, watched as I burned in the lava. She kicks me out of her bed for Mika, and now she betrays me, then pushes me off the plank. Ohhh the pain” you dramatically say as you followed Rae, her returning to specimen

“Listen, chat, Y/N if you’re listening... That was payback for that one time you killed me behind reactor right after you asked me on a date! Okay!” You rolled your eyes and looked at your camera with an annoyed look in your face

But your smile slowly returns as Rae goes on a mass massacre making you both win without meetings, making you bounce in your seat, clapping

“Good Job Rae! That was so good! You successfully scared me, I might not sleep in your room now.” You teased her, making her gasp

“Here we go. Here we go. Here we go. Hello everyone and welcome to the streeaam! Part 2. We are starting the playthrough of little nightmares 2- Hold on, Y/N’s calling.”

“Love?” Your voice rings out through Rae’s phone

“Hiii Baby! You’re on speaker” Rae states while looking at the game settings

“Oh. Well Hi chat! Anyways, Mcdonalds? I’m 5 minutes away, don’t start little nightmares yet, come on.” You whined

“Oh you big baby, I wasn’t starting without you.” Rae laughs

“Liar, I was watching your stream.” You deadpanned

“Pshh. Pshh! But yeah, Mcdonald’s fine. And hurry up! I wanna play!”

“Okay, okay sheesh, I’ll be there with your chimkin nuggies”

“Baby?” You knocked on her door, even after all the months that you have been together, you always knocked on her door before entering, incase she was doing something.

“Come in love! Perfect timing.” You open the door to see your girlfriend playing with Mika, Little Nightmares 2 plastered on the screen. You approached her and kissed her forehead

“Hi Babe. Hi chat! How are you guys doing? Hold on, let me set this down.” You say, arranging the food on Rae’s desk, careful not to spill anything

“Are we ready? Baby, grab your chair. Are we ready? Are we ready? I’m so excited!” The excitement in her eyes is making you smile

“Oh she’s excited alright, she wouldn’t shut up about it chat. Trust me” You chuckled.

“Will there be a lot of screaming? Rae?” You read chat

“Uhm. Hopefully not, I don’t know dude. Can’t control my screams.”

“A Shoe!” Rae gasps

“Baby, there’s literally hanging kids dangling in a net and the first thing you notice is the shoe?” You looked at her in disbelief

“Oh. What happened to you guys? Stinkyy. Oooooh. Physics!” You bit your lip and shook your head at your girlfriend’s antics

“Y/N, I feel comfort when I hold this shoe.”

“Ouch. Are you saying I’m not comforting you? Rude.”

“Stop trolling!” She says, turning to you as you held up a fry

She raises her eyebrows before biting the whole fry, along with your finger.

“Ouch! Damn it Rae! You’re like a chihuahua”

“Owa Owa.”

“I’m sorry. OUWGHH?! OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, PALAMPARAMPARAMPARAMPALAMPRAMPRAMPRAM! SHE’S COMING!”

“RAE! RUN! RAE! RAE! RAE! HOOOOLY SHIT! RAE! RAE! RACHEL RUN! RACHEL! RUUUN!” You panic, gripping her thigh as the teacher neck elongated, following your little character into the vents

“SHE DOESN’T CARE! SHE DOESN’T CARE! PLEASE?!”

A moment of silence pass the both of you as the character Rae’s controlling gets to safety. Rae slowly turns to meet your eyes, and bursts out laughing.

“You should’ve seen your face!” You laugh at her

“OH OKAY? Like you weren’t screaming for me to run.” She says then proceeds to repeat what you said while in a panic, making you laugh harder

“Sorry for screaming, it’s just really gross and unexpected.” She says sheepishly to her chat, which was now spamming ‘HAHAHA’ and ‘Damn how long is that neck’

“So, this question is directed to Ms. Y/N.” The interviewer moves his body to face you.

“Yes?” You smiled, guessing that this must be about you and Rae

“How are you feeling about your pictures trending on Twitter worldwide?” he asks, a smile on his face as the pictures flashed on the large screen behind you

“Ahm, it’s really great. A lot of hard work was put into that photoshoot, mostly because my girlfriend, Rae refused to put on the dress and was attached to the suit she’s wearing right there. God, she looks so beautiful. Uhm, but anyways, it took a lot of effort to get her out of that suit. ” You grinned

“Ahh. I recognize that look, Makes me remember about my wife and I. You’re so smitten. Can I just say that I ship you guys so hard.” The interviewer says

“Ah- Thank you. Hehe.” You say, embarrassed but proud

“While were on this topic of trending pictures, Can you guys explain whatever these pictures are? I’m pretty sure your fans already know what these are. But an explanation would be nice” The interviewer now addressed your whole group

“Well, considering that Y/N is dating Rae, Luna is dating Sykkuno and Jace is dating Imane, or Poki, Okay, so there’s this AU that’s around their community where they are mafia’s and we’re all members now. We all joked about being apart of their mafia, to which they agreed. So now Rae and Y/N are now the assassin duo, Poki and Jace are their supervisors and Luna, Sykkuno and Corpse are the deadly trio” Sebastian explains

“Their community is so creative I swear. And combined with our fandom, the fanarts and fanfictions are the best.” Luna says, a smile present on her face

“And yes, we all do read fanfiction, in multiple platforms.” You laughed, the live audience gasping in surprise

“None of you are safe.” Jace says in a playful intimidating voice

“Okay, I’m gonna get off. Thank you for watching. I’ll see you guys later, thanks for watching, I hope you guys enjoyed the stream. Uhmm. Appreciate you guys. Byeee!” you hear Rae end her stream from your spot in her bed.

“Hunter x Hunter? or AOT?” you ask her as you put your phone in silent and set it aside, opening your arms for her.

She crawls into your side, cuddling you while groaning lightly.

“Do you wanna take a bath first? Or do you wanna eat dinner? Maybe take a nap first? You’ve been streaming for 13 hours baby, your eyes are probably tired now.” You say, running your free hand through her hair

“Naps and cuddles please.” she mumbles, her head buried in the crook of your neck

“Okay baby, I’ll just put AOT on, oh wait. Hmm, Jujutsu Kaisen sounds great right now. No, wait even better, Ouran Highschool Host Club.” You go to turn your head to ask Rae, but you see her asleep.

You chuckle quietly, knowing Rae, she can overwork herself, sit on a chair for 13 hours, playing various video games, while you really can’t see yourself play videogames for 13 hours straight, you admire that she has the patience and energy to do that.

Smiling, you lower the volume of the Anime that you’re watching, slowly pull the blankets up as Rae shifts closer to you, clinging like a koala. Mika jumps up and settles in between the two of you, Your smile widens at the feel of things, the calmness, the silence, the tranquility and the sense of home, something that only Rae can provide. Something that you have been looking for ever since your career took off. The constant trips to the studio, the paparazzi, the world tours, the concerts, the interviews, everything, everything was worth it when you know you’re coming home to her.

You didn’t even know how you got to where you are now, cuddled into Rae, the comfort streamer you never thought you would meet, even when you mostly stayed where she stayed... Dating her was a dream, you didn’t believe it at first, she quickly proved that dream theory wrong when she kissed you, under the rain. As cliché as it seems, that was the day you both silently agreed to never let go of each other and take care of each other even if the other is half way across the world.

Even if dating her means also dating her room mates and her chat...

You would never trade it for anything.

Even if you knew she would scream her ears off once she knows that you have a whole album that’s inspired and dedicated to her.

#valkyrae #valkyrae imagines #valkyrae imagine #valkyrae x reader #valkyrae fanfiction #valkyrae x fem reader #valkyrae x female reader #fluff #im soft #rae x reader

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lilyeholland · 4 years ago

Text

Driver’s License

[Luke Patterson x Reader]

Requested: YES! By my bestie @dakotagillespie !!! (go follow her, she makes amazing art♥).

Based off the song ‘driver’s license’ by Olivia Rodrigo

Summary: After a whole Spring and Summer of Luke teaching Y/N to drive, she’s finally ready to get her license and makes plans to take her boyfriend back to his parent’s after he plays at the Orpheum.

A/N: Bruh I’m literally making little mini series’ about Sunset Curve’s boo thangs before they died..... sorry for all the angst but also I’m not sorry at all :)

“Pull over, pull over, pull over,” Luke repeats enthusiastically, scared but still giggling at how horrible of a driver you are.

You quickly turn on your blinker and pull off to the side of the road, feeling your heart beat all the way down your arms. You felt like it was making the whole car shake.

You look over at Luke, eyes wide, nervous to look into his eyes after almost killing him. ‘Almost killing him’ is an exaggeration. You only swerved into the other lane a little because you thought you saw a squirrel in the middle of the road. Turns out, it was just a leaf.

“Well that was,” Luke struggles to find the right words, “an adventure.” He looks at your face, sees your on the verge of tears and trying so hard to bottle it up and shifts his position in the passenger’s seat. “Hey, it’s okay. I sucked at driving too when I first started.”

“You think I suck at driving?” You nearly shout at him, only half of you taking offense to that.

“Wait, no! No, no, no. That’s not what I meant, I mean-” he takes a deep breath and huffs it out in a laugh.

You give him a tilted look, your pending tears now fading away as a smile crosses her face. “I know what you meant, Luke,” you interrupt his babbling and reach out for his hand. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“Well, don’t do that!” He bats his eyelashes as he looks back up at you, your hand fitting snug in his. “Also, please try not to kill me anymore, okay? I wanna be able to live to play the Orpheum.”

“AH!” you shout in a teasing-defensive tone, taking the map from off the dashboard and hitting him with it.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he shouts as he reaches through your hands to tickle your sides, knowing it’s your weakness. Immediately, your hands fly to his to try and get him to stop. Loud laughs and high pitched squeals fill the car as you fight off each other’s loving touches.

“This probably looks so wrong,” Luke say through a breathless laugh.

“What do you mean?” you get out once you’re able to stop laughing.

“A pulled over, fogged up car that’s rocking back and forth? People are gonna think we’re up to something naughty.” Luke decrescendos his voice so its merely a whisper by the end of his sentence.

“And what if we were?” You tease, brushing the mess of hair out of his face.

“Aaah,” he nods his head and smiles. “I like the way you think, Y/N,” he leans up closer to you, his nose brushing against yours until your lips meet. He pushes himself up more so he’s taller than you, continuing to kiss you and hold the side of your face in his hand.

“I’m never gonna get my license if we keep doing this every time you take me driving,” you say in between kisses, your smile clashing on top of his.

He groans and pulls himself off of you. “You take your test in what? Like a week?”

“On Wednesday, yeah.”

“So, we’re fiiiiineee,” he sings. “We should still probably take you home so your mom doesn’t flip out on me for having you out too late. One of our mothers already hates me, we don’t need both of them to.”

“Luke, don’t say that. Your mom doesn’t hate you.” You reassure him, looking longingly into his now sad eyes.

“She sure acts like it,” he looks down at his hands and his voice gets quiet. Noticing the tension in the car he’s created, he quickly perks up and says, “switch me spots, I’ll take you home,” with a smile and a wink.

You hadn’t talked to Luke in a while. Every time you went by his house, he wasn’t there because him and his mom were fighting. You hated seeing how estranged he was from his mother and wished you could do something to help.

Today, you drove by his house to tell him the exciting news that you had passed your driver’s test!! To your luck, he was outside pulling some weeds when you pulled up in the driveway. He gave you a look and wiggled his eyebrows once he realized it was you driving that 92′ Chevy Blazer. You quickly got out of the car and ran into his arms.

You couldn’t decide if he was more cute or more hot with his cut off shirt, gardening gloves and sunhat.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you smile as you rub in some of the sunscreen on his cheek.

“Yeah, mom’s making me do yardwork before band practice.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “But look at you! You got your license, and a car?!” He changes his mood so quickly, pointing over to your new ride. “This is sick, Y/N,” he wraps his arm over your shoulders and brings you in for a side hug, kissing the top of your head while doing so.��

“I know! Now I can actually pick you up after the show and we can maybe come back here after?”

Luke groans again. “Do we have to? She doesn’t even know we’re playing there, yet.”

“I think it would be nice for her to see how good you guys actually are. Maybe she’ll be more supportive after that.” You shrug at him, trying to convince him that she just needs some time to come around.

“Speaking of the devil,” Luke starts, “let’s go somewhere before she gets back,” he coos as she pulls you into his body.

“Don’t you have to do yardwork?”

“I’m basically done,” he bites off his gardening gloves and throws them into the yard.

“Okay, cowboy,” you tease him as you flick his sunhat off of his head and walk off to the driver’s side of the car.

“Don’t let Reggie hear you call me that, he’s been trying to get us to sing country music for forever.”

You laugh at the messy-haired boy beside you, soaking in the moment of the two of you together before he makes it big with Sunset Curve and won’t be able to see you as much anymore.

“You know, I wish you were more comfortable driving so I could hold your hand right now,” he looks over at you, although your eyes are glued to the road ahead of you. You manage to get out a laugh, fighting the temptation to look at his cute face.

Since he can’t hold your hand, he settles for resting his had on your knee. Which, in your opinion, was much better.

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