#I was mildly disappointed when I didn’t hear from him in over a day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theother-victoria · 3 months ago

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all hearts as one beneath the sun

SYNOPSIS: before kakavasha dissolves into the nihility, there is one hope he has to let go of. may you meet again in a kinder world and under a warm sun.

CHARACTERS: kakavasha, aventurine, dr ratio, aventurine's family, sunday

TAGS: angst, no comfort, established relationship, mentions of suicide, 4k+ wc

TAGLIST: @mitsvriii, @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz

NOTES: sobbed to "had I not seen the sun" the entire time I was writing this I love making myself cry w my own work

special thanks to @akutasoda, @tragedy-of-commons, and @https-sourlimes for proofreading this! love u all <33

link to the playlist

Aventurine was mildly surprised when he received word that he would be handling the Penacony mission. Why him, of all the Ten Stonehearts? Surely someone more capable such as Opal would be trusted with a mission of this caliber.

He only realized why when he pried further into the details.

Penacony was a death trap. With so many powerful and important people gathered in one place, one wrong move on his part would spell his end.

He chuckles sardonically. Figures. They’re sending their most suicidal employee out for a suicide mission.

As if to rub the situation into his face, he finds out they’re pairing him with Dr. Ratio. What purpose is he supposed to serve, suicide prevention? Too little, too late, in his opinion.

The doctor doesn’t look too thrilled about the fact either. It makes Aventurine feel somewhat better about this whole situation.

“You’d best get your affairs settled before we leave, gambler. The odds that you make it back alive from this mission aren’t as high as you’d hope they’d be.”

“Ooh, well I do like the sound of that.”

A glare sent his way makes Aventurine roll his eyes, but he shuts up anyway. Plans are made and discussed for what role each of them will be playing before it’s time to leave.

“Well then, I look forward to working with you in Penacony, Doctor.”

“Just don’t act like a complete idiot and we’ll be fine.”

The two men head their separate ways. Ratio’s advice to settle his affairs lingers in his mind, though. That means there’s a will he has to sign, assets he has to distribute, funeral arrangements to be made, and more. Of course, most, if not all of it, will be going toward you. You’d be set for the rest of your life, never having to work a day again if you so chose.

He heaves a sigh. Ah, it’s all so tedious. It was all so much easier before you came along. He had no will to worry about. He’d toss caution to the wind every mission and wind up sorely disappointed when he returned, still alive. If he did end up dying, his assets would end up being pawned off and most likely make their way back to the IPC somehow. So what even was the point then?

With all that being said, he didn’t mind putting in all that extra work for your peace of mind and so you’d continue to benefit, even after his death.

Still, the stakes this time around are higher, and he has you to consider now before placing his bets. One wrong move and you’d be left without someone to welcome home. And then there’s the consideration of whether he’d be willing to die when the moment came. Sure, he’d attempted several times before but they’d all failed. Would he be able to take the plunge this time, should the opportunity present itself?

“Hey, Doc?”

Ratio is about to leave, but the uncharacteristic hint of hesitation in his voice makes him stop and look over his shoulder.

“... How can you tell if you’ve lived a life worth living?”

Ratio stares at the blonde in silence in disbelief over what he’s hearing. Aventurine chuckles, trying to dispel the awkwardness that’s settled in the air.

“No answer? Never mind-”

“That answer will vary from person to person. However, if you were to ask me personally…”

The doctor’s ruby eyes flit over Aventurine’s frame, narrowing in contemplation- and perhaps a hint of resignation.

“Ask yourself this question: can you die today without any regrets?”

“Can I die today without any regrets?” Doctor, what were you thinking when you posed that rhetorical question on me? Obviously the answer would be no!

Expensive leather shoes click against stone as Aventurine hurriedly makes his way through the Dreamscape. The weight of having mere hours left to live looms above his head like an anvil, leaving him scrambling to figure out how to cheat death- not for the hope of living to see another day, but so he can carry out his mission.

When confronted with death, even a suicidal man will cling to the urge to live for one reason or another.

He’s hardly paying attention to where he’s going, muttering out half-hearted apologies to those he bumps into as he stumbles through the Dreamscape before he ends up in a secluded area. The kaleidoscopic iridescence in the corners of his vision makes him stumble and he audibly groans when a searing pain flashes through his temples, the Harmony’s brand on his mind assailing him again.

Dammit… am I really at the end of the line now? And before I could do anything meaningful either…

He hears the sound of a… child humming some distance away? That’s strange, there’s no one else here.

“Mister, are you lost too?”

That voice.

He turns around slowly, as if that would change anything. Aventurine’s eyes dart across the boy standing before him, with rags for clothes and scraped knees. The child in front of him is everything he is not- or rather, what he was, but is no longer. Optimistic, with bright shining eyes. Hope still exists for him.

Those eyes. Oh, it’s himself.

Aventurine thinks he’s about to be sick.

“Woah, you have such pretty eyes! Can I call you Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

Aventurine stiffly nods.

“Sure. Call me whatever you want, kid. What’s your name?”

“It’s Kakavasha. Nice to meet you!”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin confirming his suspicions.

Kakavasha looks around nervously.

“I was searching for my family, but I got lost. This place is so much bigger than home… Mister, do you think you could help me find them?”

Aventurine shakily extends a trembling hand out.

“Of course. Lead the way. How about you hold onto my hand so you don’t get lost anymore?

Kakavasha latches onto it and begins wandering around, calling out for his parents and big sister. Every unanswered call feels like a punch to the gut but he has a faint flickering of hope that he’ll be able to see them.

“You really love your family, kid,” remarks Aventurine in an attempt to keep some conversation going.

“Of course! I do!”

Kakavasha pauses in his steps and thinks for a bit, eyes wandering skyward and free hand resting on his chin.

“… Do you have anyone you love, Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

“Yes, I do. Their name is (Name).”

The boy’s eyes light up, sparkling in curiosity.

“Woah, really? What’re they like?”

A light chuckle escapes Aventurine’s lips as he crouches down to Kakavasha’s eye level and ruffles his hair.

“They’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

“Wow, they must be a really amazing person for you to say that…”

“They are. They're incredible.”

I don’t deserve them.

He chuckles and stands back up again, hand reaching for Kakavasha’s. The little boy continues to lead the way, until he suddenly stops and turns.

“Would you like to meet my family? They’ve been gone for so long I think they went back home. You can introduce (Name) to them as well!”

Panic wells up inside him. Seeing his family? In this state? After all he’s done? No, he can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Not under these circumstances!

“Kid, I don’t think-”

“It’s ok if (Name) shows up late. They’re nice people and they’ll understand.”

“No, I-”

“Come on, let’s go! They’re already waiting for us!”

Aventurine feels himself being forcefully pulled under and he instinctively closes his eyes. A blast of hot, sandy air hits him, making him shield himself. When it settles down, he opens his eyes to a familiar sight. Sand stretches as far as the eye can see. There’s minimal vegetation and he can feel the sun beating down on his back already.

Sigonia-IV. He’s returned home.

Kakavasha eagerly tugs on his sleeve.

“This is my home! I know it’s not much, but everyone I know and love is here. I think you’ll like it too.”

Still holding onto Aventurine’s hand, Kakvasha begins running toward the horizon. Aventurine, meanwhile, feels numb all over.

There’s no way this is happening. Is this some sort of cruel prank? What did that chicken-wing boy do this time? But if this is just a cruel prank…

He looks around at the yellow sand stretching as far as the eye can see and the mountains in the distance.

… Then it’s far too realistic. How is this happening? If I filter out the memories of the massacre, then everything is the same as I remembered it.

“We’re almost there!” calls out Kakavasha. “Just a little longer now!”

Three familiar figures stand in front of a tent some distance away and Aventurine feels his heart seize up in his chest. He’s long forgotten their faces, but he instinctively recognizes them.

Mom. Dad. Big Sis.

Kakavasha lets go of his hand and sprints toward his family. He leaps into the arms of his big sister, who spins him around giddily while his mother plants kisses over his face and his father holds his tiny hands.

As he approaches, he realizes they have no faces. Where there are supposed to be eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there is nothing. A blank canvas with dents and ridges where the features are supposed to be greets him and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise up in warning.

The only exception to this is his sister, with her grinning mouth and her long blonde hair billowing in the wind- the only feature he remembers clearly about her. She takes notice of him and tilts her head curiously to the side.

“Kakavasha, did you br▇ng a f▇▇▇d of ▇urs?”

Her voice comes out scratchy and distorted with only a few syllables recognizable. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes why.

He can’t remember her voice anymore. Or the voices of his parents, for that matter. He’s forgotten what they look like, and now what they sound like. What’s been forgotten can’t be restored.

“Yeah!” exclaims Kakavasha nestled safely into his sister’s arms now. “Everybody, meet Mr. Pretty Eyes!”

They greet him with friendly waves and scratchy sounds that he thinks are supposed to be words of greeting. He almost chokes on the guilt and regret building up in his throat

“▇▇ look just like ▇▇ Kakavasha over here! ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ his long-lost b▇▇▇▇r or something?”

Aventurine forces out a laugh as the others join in.

If only they knew…

The sun is going down now, and the solar winds that blanket the planet grow harsher. They quickly usher him into the tent, telling him to make himself at home and inviting him to stay for dinner. There’s no way out as far as he can tell, so he obliges.

It’s smaller than he remembers, he thinks as he ducks to avoid hitting his head. There’s a rudimentary kitchen setup in the back that Kakavasha’s mother is tending to as she begins preparing dinner. Kakavasha hops into his sister’s lap and shakes the sand out of his hair and gets it everywhere, to which she lightly scolds him with a tug on his cheek.

He takes a seat on the fraying rug in the center and rubs a brightly-colored teal tassel between his fingers. The sand is already starting to seep into his clothes. He feels grains of it in his shoes and it pools onto his pristine white dress pants. Grains of it are nestled deep into the fur collar of his coat from the harsh solar winds outside that even vigorous shaking won’t dislodge.

Kakavasha’s sister smiles at him. It’s a bit unnerving, just seeing a smiling mouth with no other features.

“So, Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes, w▇at 's your ▇▇▇ ? At least, I’m a▇▇▇ ming Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes isn’t yo▇▇ r▇l name.”

“It’s Kaka-”

He swallows hard and kicks himself. He’s not Kakavasha. Not anymore.

“It’s… Aventurine.”

The very act of saying that name makes him feel like he’s betraying his family, stabbing them in the back.

“A▇▇▇▇▇ , huh? What an in▇▇▇ing and pretty name!” remarks his sister. He feels the air rush out his lungs and almost coughs up a sardonic laugh from the sheer irony of it all. First his family, then his language, then his body, and now even his name? Is there anything left that he can truly call his from his culture?

Thunder distantly rumbles overhead. Kakavasha and his sister peek their heads out curiously of the tent. She gasps excitedly and points to the darkening clouds overhead.

“Hear that? ▇▇ sign ▇▇ your birthday is ▇▇▇ ▇!” she exclaims as she holds Kakavasha’s hands in hers.“▇▇▇ ▇▇ excited?”

… His birthday?

Thunder rumbles overhead again and he hears the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the tent.

His birthday. The Kakava Festival.

His heart sinks into his stomach as his family chatters around him. They talk about birthday celebrations and what they’ll do that day, but it’s a muffled mess in his ears. Is it really almost his birthday already? Sigonia-IV followed many beliefs that were independent from the rest of the universe, namely the Aeon belief system, and that also extended to the calendar system. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what day his birthday was in the Interastral Standard calendar system. He usually just flipped a coin and that was if he even bothered to celebrate, which he hadn’t done in many years.

Aventurine does some quick estimating and realizes that yes, it’s almost his birthday. But how would he celebrate his birthday in this world, where all was good and he still remembered their faces and voices?

Aventurine closes his eyes and thinks. His mother would be overjoyed to know that her beloved son finally has a lover now. She’d make him clean the tent from top to bottom in preparation for your arrival, even though the sand would find its way back inside again within a matter of a few hours. His parents would cook up a feast for your arrival while his sister would pester him to tell more stories about you- as if there were any left that he hadn’t. When the time would come and you’d nervously step through the tent flap with one hand holding his tightly and another clutching some gifts, his mother would rush forward and greet you with a kiss to the cheek, having already accepted you as family. His sister would steal you away from him to dote on you, much to his half-hearted chagrin. His father would tell corny jokes that you’d cringe at, and his mother would teach you recipes that had been passed down for generations, her warm, weathered hands resting atop yours and lovingly guiding your movements in the kitchen.

The five of you, safe, warm, and alive under the sun.

Hours after the rest of his family had gone to sleep, you’d lie side by side outside, watching the stars drift on by. Sigonia-IV is nothing like Pier Point. Free from light and industrial pollution, you’d have a stunning view of the cosmos every night. Twinkling stars shine overhead, so close you could practically pluck them out of the sky. Multicolored clouds of gas and stardust bathe the sky in their shifting hues as he tells you stories that have been passed down from generation to generation with the occasional shooting star passing by. You’d stay like that for hours on end, content to just listen and watch, until you were lulled to sleep by his voice.

It would be cold, as all desert climates are at night, but it was nothing he couldn’t bear with your warmth nestled into his side.

In the spring, or around now, he’d take you to celebrate the Kakava festival under the stars with a roaring bonfire. The festival itself would be a solemn and silent celebration with people murmuring prayers to the Mother Goddess and tossing sacrificial vessels into the fires, but the celebration of his birthday afterward would be loud and joyful. Bonfire sparks would rise up into the sky, carried by the hot solar winds and the rich sounds of his people’s songs. His mother would drape you in turquoise jewelry and gift you traditional clothes that she would’ve spent hours beforehand making by hand, every stitch a labor of love. He’d teach you to dance to the cheers of his family and the familiar tunes he’d hum under his breath. His movements would be fluid and graceful as he spins and twirls you around, while you stumble and flail along. He’d enjoy every second of it- even if you step on his feet the whole time.

He would be kinder in this world, he thinks. He’d still be Kakavasha. Aventurine would be an unknown man to him. He’d wear his heart on his sleeve and his eyes would still have life to them. He’d never have to hide his left hand.

And you’d be happier too. You wouldn’t have to sift through the layers to find the true self underneath the act he puts up. He wouldn’t be so hot and cold- practically love-bombing you one moment and then disappearing without a word for weeks the next. He wouldn’t be a dirty gambler, a two-faced businessman, a disinterested womanizer, cheating scum, an IPC mutt, a corporate bootlicker, a worthless Sigonian slut or who knows what else you’ve heard about him–

In this world, there are no Katicans. The Avigins and his family are still intact. His neck is unmarred and he speaks the Avigin dialect fluently, instead of the halting and choppy cadence that's even worse than that of a child’s. Syrupy, honeyed words spill from his mouth as he teaches you common words and phrases in his mother tongue. Have you eaten yet? How did you sleep? How was your day? I missed you. Mother. Sister. Father. Lover. Goddess. I made you something. I saw this today and thought of you. Be safe. Sweet dreams. Goodnight. I love you. He chuckles when you parrot them back to him haltingly, with your accent mixed in. The notebook you keep with various phrases, their meanings, and their phonetics grows every day. The most worn out page was the one crammed full of declarations of love that sound more akin to poetry as your mastery over the dialect grows. The ink is smeared from how often you’ve run your fingers over them, murmuring them under your breath until you’d committed them to memory. In your arms is the safest I’ll ever be. I’m lucky to call you my lover. I sleep better when I’m with you. I secretly name stars and constellations after you. I’ll kiss the weariness away from your face every night. I pray to Mama Fenge every night for your safety. I imagine her hands and embrace to be as warm as yours, and it reassures me somehow. I’ll miss your warm hands when that day finally comes. Goodnight, I love you.

We’ll be together even in Kakava’s next aurora.

Aventurine jolts forward with a start. His eyes search around frantically, instinctively searching for his family and you, only to be greeted with a familiar sight that isn’t his home. Bright flashing lights, the sound of cars honking and speeding by, muffled pop music playing in the distance, and the sugary scent of SoulGlad greet his senses instead of arid hot wind that howls in his ears and endless seas of sand. You and his family are nowhere to be seen either.

Oh. Right.

The Dreamscape.

His clothes stick to his skin drenched in a cold sweat and his glasses are resting lopsidedly on his face. His whole body is shivering uncontrollably, as if he’s been plunged into ice-cold water without warning. The world is going white before his eyes and all he can hear is the loud thump of his pulse in his ears that suddenly drops. He thinks he’s about to pass out again. This is the end, he thinks. Aventurine leans against the side of a wall again, taking deep, heaving breaths to steady himself and quell the nausea swirling around in his stomach.

When it subsides and he doesn’t feel like he’s on the verge of death (sadly), he sits back up and forces out a laugh in place of a sob. First forcing a religious consecration onto him, then dangling his family in front of his face? How much crueler could the head of the Oak Family get?

His heart sinks and an overwhelmingly bitter feeling engulfs him. It was just a dream all along. A dream within a dream, really. Was he really that desperate for something familiar again?

(And just like that, the mask known as Aventurine is back in place.)

(But he couldn’t even say goodbye or apologize to his family one last time, even if it wasn’t them.)

It was a pleasant dream, he’ll admit. How nice it would be to live in that world forever. But he knew it was a dream because it could never happen, as much as it pained him.

Aventurine hears the voice of Kakavasha drifting along from further up ahead and knows he’s nearing the final leg of his plan. With what little time he has left, he takes pictures with the boy for posterity and buys the child all the treats his eyes rest on for more than a second. Aventurine delights in the way his eyes light up at the first taste before he eagerly digs in for more.

It’s cathartic, in a way.

Before stepping on stage, he looks up at the sky. It’s perpetually nighttime in Clock Studios Theme Park, but he knows the sun is shining elsewhere in the Dreamscape. Is the sun shining where you are back at home? He thinks it’s morning for you. You must still be asleep with the cat cakes curled into your sides, blissfully unaware of the news you’ll wake up to.

Get onstage. Fear not. Never look back.

One last thing to do.

He sends a final text to you.

Aventurine: I love you.

It stays on delivered when he puts his phone away. It’ll be the first thing you see when you wake up, and that’s more than enough for him.

It’s time for the curtain call.

The feeling of Kakavasha’s tiny body in his arms won’t be enough to chase away the grief. Nothing ever will be. But this’ll be the closest he can get.

Aventurine hugs the boy close, squeezing as hard as he can without hurting him. He feels how he’s nothing more than skin and bone beneath the oversized rags. No child should have to be this thin, he thinks, and he’s even more glad he treated Kakavasha to his heart’s content earlier.

This is the end. He gives Kakavasha one last squeeze to imprint this memory into his mind and gets up, waving goodbye over his shoulder all the while.

He never looks back.

In a shower of light, Kakavasha dissolves into the Nihility, and with him, Aventurine’s hopes for the ideal future- the one that you deserved. The Horizon of Existence is finally devoid of all color save for himself and the dark sun beckoning him forward toward the event horizon.

He takes a step forward, and then another. The sound of his footsteps against the surface and liquid splashing echo loudly in the empty space.

The Nihility is beginning to slowly engulf him. He feels it encroaching at the edges of his mind, eating away at his thoughts one by one until nothing remains. A hollow, empty feeling settles into his heart that weighs him down. Aventurine looks down at his hands and realizes the color is beginning to seep from his vision until he, too, would become one with the Nihility. The point of no return beckons to him like a moth to a flame. Nothingness, emptiness, worthlessness. There’s nothing left for him to do.

“Can you die today without any regrets?”

Aventurine finally has an answer to that question. The past is gone and he’s walking toward no future.

Yes. I finally can.

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#—stellaronhvnters.#victoria.writes #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fanfic #hsr imagines #hsr aventurine

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callsign-mayhem · 7 months ago

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heartbreak feels so good (part 3)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 6.2k CW: Shitty ex-boyfriends, slow burn, angst, fluff, use of Y/N

Part One Part Two

Whether by the grace of some mystical power or Elijah choosing to be sensible and avoid you, you managed to go three days without running into him on base. During these three days, you saw more of Bradley and Natasha than you ever had while working. You were an engineer and spent most of your days nestled underneath fighter jets or shoulder-deep in their engines, while your friends spent most of theirs in the sky. Because of this, it was rare that you crossed paths.

While you’d found the past three days extremely pleasant, you knew their presence was only heavy because they were keeping an eye on you.

On Monday, Bradley came into the hangar and told you that his jet had started making a weird noise whenever he took off. You spent most of the day attempting to pinpoint the problem, and he stayed with you while you worked, pestering you from his perch on an overturned oil drum.

Why did it take you so long to pinpoint the problem? Because there wasn’t one. After hours of taking things apart and adjusting things, you finally relented and asked him to start the engine while you were standing next to the plane. You listened intently for a few seconds and eventually held your hand up for him to cut the engine.

Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you shouted: ‘I don’t hear anything!’

Bradley climbed out of the cockpit, looking confused.

‘Huh, that’s odd. You must have fixed it without realising when you pulled that pipe out.’

‘Well, that’s lucky then.’ You played along. ‘I guess you can report back to Mav now.’

He seemed mildly disappointed. ‘I guess so.’

On Tuesday around lunchtime, Nat brought In-N-Out to the hangar. There was enough food to feed the whole squadron, so it shouldn’t have surprised you when Bradley, Jake, Bob, Javy, Mickey and Reuben waltzed in. You weren’t sure these guys even took lunch breaks, let alone took them all simultaneously. One thing you were sure of, however, was that Bradley was the only person on base who knew how much you loved In-N-Out. He’d discovered this after a particularly rowdy night out just before you’d met Elijah when you’d insisted he find a way to take you there even though you were both slaughtered and missing the rest of your group. He’d been the only one there, which led you to conclude that he’d orchestrated this group meal that had so clearly been intended to cheer you up.

I mean, come on. They weren’t even trying to hide it. It would have been flattering if not for the embarrassment. They were so concerned that you couldn’t cope with this heartbreak alone that they’d indirectly put you under a 24/7 watch.

On Wednesday, Bradley and Nat were both waiting for you outside the hangar when you finished up for the day. They’d already changed out of their flight suits, and Nat had a beach bag over her shoulder.

‘There she is,’ Bradley beamed, pushing his aviators onto the top of his head. ‘We’re heading to the beach for a swim. Thought you might like to join us.’

You had to admit, a dip in the ocean before dinner sounded nice.

‘I didn’t bring a swimsuit, though.’

‘I have a spare.’ Natasha grinned.

‘That’s convenient.’ You said, raising a brow.

She shrugged. ‘It’s always good to be prepared.’

Now, it was Thursday morning, and you were sitting outside on the tarmac, drinking coffee and watching the pilots start their drills. The sun might have been low in the sky, but from the way the air rippled above the runway, you could tell it would be a scorcher. After a delightful start to your week, you’d almost forgotten that you were supposed to have your guard up just in case. This wasn’t to say you’d forgotten about Elijah and all your negative emotions. It was more that you’d been too distracted to notice how your body and mind held said emotions, and it was only now that you saw him drilling with the rest of the pilots that you’d been reminded.

As much as you hated to say it, he looked good when he dropped to the floor and started doing his press-ups. You had to find a way to get your mind off this undeniable fact that didn’t involve going inside before you’d finished your morning ritual.

Nobody would have blamed you for opting to look at Bradley instead. Still, you felt guilty anyway, partly because you were only looking at him as a way of not looking at your ex and partly because it felt highly intimate, even though he had no idea what was happening.

By the time you’d finished the last sip of your coffee, you needed a cool shower to bring you back down to planet Earth. To say you were flustered was perhaps the biggest understatement of the year.

Thankfully, time started to slip away the minute you lost yourself in your work for the day. Having something productive to do was massively beneficial. If nothing else, your heartbreak taught you that keeping your hands busy was the key to forgetting that you were in agony.

Lunchtime came and went. The last time you’d so much as glanced at a clock, it had been 9:30 am. Now, at nearly 4 pm, you’d only put your wrench down because you needed the bathroom.

There was only an hour left of your work day, and since you’d stopped and lost your momentum, you wondered whether anybody would miss you if you cut out early. The pilots had been in a training seminar all day, so you hadn’t seen anyone, and as much as you loved your friends for looking out for you, the peace and quiet had been soothing. Being able to zone out and focus on rebuilding part of an engine, scrubbing turbulence ducts or configuring navigation systems without half the squadron hovering over you had been damn near therapeutic.

But you were ready for a well-deserved self-care night.

After cleaning down, turning everything off and locking up, you made the short walk back to the main base and grabbed your belongings from your locker. Normally you changed clothes before leaving the base, but you didn’t want to risk running into anyone in the changing rooms, so you unzipped the top half of your flight suit and tied it around your waist. You always wore black tank tops underneath to avoid any noticeable oil stains.

It seemed as though everyone else was still busy, as you didn’t run into anyone on your way through the building. In fact, you made it all the way to your car without so much as a ‘hey, Y/N.’ You were calm and content by the time you walked through your front door, more than happy to be alone with your own thoughts for the first time since the breakup. Part of you thought it was too soon to be this at ease, but you weren’t one for looking gift horses in the mouths.

So, it was time to start your self care night.

Step one: throw your dirty uniform in the wash. Step two: quick shower and hair wash.

Step three: run a bubble bath with your most luxurious products. Step four: pour yourself a glass of your favourite wine. Step five: relax in the aforementioned bubble bath and finally finish the novel you’d been trying to finish since last month.

Step six: get rudely interrupted by someone buzzing your intercom thirty million times.

Step six was supposed to be: get out of the bath, find your cosiest pyjamas and order takeout to eat while watching Gilmore Girls.

This was not part of your plan.

With a huff, you bookmarked your page (you were so close to being done that it almost hurt to put the book down) and grabbed a towel from the rack. The buzzing was constant, and you hoped whoever it was had either been mugged or stabbed. Or both. Because jeez.

In your haste to get the buzzing to stop, you didn’t even ask who it was. Water dripped onto the floor where you stood, and you wrapped your towel tighter. Panic started to set in. What if it was Elijah? The thought of him seeing you like this after everything made you realise that opening the door in nothing but a towel was probably not a good idea. But just as you were about to run to your bedroom for your dressing gown, the knocking started.

You froze.

It wasn’t the usual three polite knocks that people usually make at somebody’s door. It was rapid and incessant, like the buzzing. Whoever stood behind that door really needed to see you.

Heart racing, you peeked through the spy hole. Panic quickly gave way to shock, which soon gave way to a strange, warm sensation that tingled throughout your entire body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

The strangeness of it all eclipsed your earlier decision to put on your dressing gown, and you opened the door without hesitating.

Bradley was panting, clearly having run up all three flights of stairs leading to your apartment. He was still in his flight suit, the top of which was tied around his waist just as yours had been. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his neck, settling in the sweet spot where his collarbone started. His black T-shirt was soaked through.

‘Bradley?’

Breathing heavily, he examined your towel-clad form and wet hair.

‘What happened?’

You were lost. ‘What do you mean? Nothing happened, I was taking a bath.’

Bradley ran his hands through his hair, knotting it in his fists. He let his hands rest there momentarily while he caught a breath.

‘I came to see how your day went, and everything was locked. I thought something had happened.’

Now that he knew you were okay, his shoulders sagged, and he was able to offer you an embarrassment-tinged smile.

‘I thought something had happened,’ he explained. ‘When you weren’t on base, I thought maybe you’d run into Viper, and he’d upset you. I don’t know. Guess I just panicked.’

You were simultaneously warmed and humiliated by Bradley’s thinking that something had happened and that it was his responsibility to come and fix things. It was like you couldn’t take care of yourself. You appreciated it, and at first, it was nice, but it was beginning to make you feel sheepish.

You crossed your arms, which only drew attention to your very naked form. You felt your face warm, then your neck, then your chest. Paired with being treated like a child, it was a level of embarrassment you’d never had the misfortune of experiencing before.

‘I can take care of myself.’ You murmured, unable to meet Bradley’s eye.

He exhaled sharply. ‘I know you can, Y/N. Doesn’t stop me from worrying, though.’

Tentatively, you peeked at him from beneath your eyelashes. His gaze was locked onto your face in an attempt to stop himself from looking elsewhere. Bradley Bradshaw—ever the gentleman.

You cleared your throat. ‘I can’t express how grateful I am for everyone taking care of me. Especially you, Roo. But I’d like it if you’d stop treating me like I’m going to break. I’m not that fragile.’

‘Oh, I know you’re not fragile, sweet girl. I just care about you so much.’

You couldn’t help but smile. ‘I care about you too.’

‘I can’t explain it. It’s not that I think you’re a flight risk,’ he smirked at his pun. ‘I just like taking care of you. I like knowing you’re safe and happy, and I like knowing that it’s because of me.’

You didn’t know which way to take this. It was a hard thing to hear for a few different reasons. For one, you weren’t used to hearing things like this from the men in your life, weren’t used to them wanting to take care of you. For two, it was coming from Bradley—one of your long-time best friends—and friendly wasn’t precisely the word you’d use to describe his tone. For three, you were standing in your apartment doorway in a towel with bubbles stuck to your legs, dripping water all over the floor.

You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you, but Bradley wasn’t inside your head, so it seemed like you were laughing at his confession.

You apologised. ‘My brain is on overload right now,’ you explained. ‘And I don’t think this is a conversation we should have in the doorway while I’m in a towel.’

Bradley looked you up and down; although it was brief, you couldn’t ignore the hunger hidden behind it. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so well attuned to his mannerisms. Another addition to the list of things to be confused about.

‘Yeah, I should leave you to it. We can talk some other time, when you’re fully clothed.’ He smirked.

Your blush deepened. ‘You gonna be at The Hard Deck tomorrow night?’

‘Is the sky blue?’

You chuckled. ‘Tomorrow it is, then.’

When Bradley got back to his apartment, he had no idea what to do with himself. He was sweating, covered in jet fuel and overthinking every word he’d just said to you, so the only option was an ice-cold shower. As he stood underneath the cool spray, he tried to imagine a world where things were simple. A world where you’d never met Elijah, never had your heart broken, and your whole perspective on love shattered. In this world, he wouldn’t have to wait for you to heal because it would have been him all along, and you’d never have gotten hurt.

But you were hurt, and it had never been him. Judging by the way you’d laughed after his semi-confession, it might never be him, and this was harder to swallow than one of Penny’s homemade shots.

He took his time in the shower, but all the cold water in the world couldn’t wash away the memory of you standing there in your fluffy white towel. This image was more powerful than everything else, and he was ashamed. It was more powerful than his anxiety over you not feeling the same, more powerful than the fear of losing your friendship.

It wasn’t that he cared more about the thought of seeing you naked than getting turned down, or maybe not having you in his life anymore. It was more that his nerves were frayed after a really hard day at work, and he simply didn’t have the energy to dissect hidden truths and map out possible outcomes. His exhausted brain found it easier to latch onto the more simple thoughts and imagined scenarios, like coming home to you after a hard day, and having you take care of him in all the ways. Or sharing that bath with you and wrapping you in that towel with his own two hands before leading you to the bedroom and unwrapping it again.

Pleasure and anticipation unfurled in his abdomen at the mere thought of your naked body beneath his. He didn’t need to experience it to know that skin-on-skin with you would be like finding out that heaven did exist and that it was a place on Earth. Or rather, a person. He tipped his head back and let it rest against the shower wall, and when he reached down to take his dick in his hands, the satisfaction transcended the guilt.

It was only your name in his mind, repeating over and over like some kind of mantra.

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

It was the kind of news that felt like a swift kick to the gut.

Out of the entire Dagger Squad, Jake wasn’t your closest friend. You didn’t share deep secrets or have any inside jokes, and he wasn’t the first person you went to when you needed help or a cinema date. But he was still your friend, and you would miss him.

Eighteen months abroad on some secret mission was a long time, especially when it was just him out of his entire squadron. You weren’t a fighter pilot, but you’d been sent away before as your skillset was rare amongst navy engineers. The six-month stint you did at sea was the scariest experience you’d ever had; nothing had topped it yet, and you highly doubted anything ever would. Eighteen months was inconceivable to you.

Jake had known that he was going away for quite some time, but he hadn’t told anyone until two days before. He said he didn’t want his last few weeks Stateside to be ruined by everyone coddling him—he just wanted it to be normal. You could hardly blame him for that, but it made his news much harder to digest. You’d only found out about the mission earlier on that day, yet here you were getting ready to go to The Hard Deck for his leaving drinks.

Natasha sat cross-legged on your double bed with her makeup bag in her lap and your hand mirror in front of her face. You sat on the carpet in front of your full-length mirror, where you always did your makeup. An 80s song you hadn’t heard in years played through your Bluetooth speaker, and you hummed along contentedly.

‘What dress do you think I should wear?’ You asked.

‘What are the options?’

‘Either the new yellow one—with the corset top—or the white one.’

‘The one that looks like Marilyn Monroe’s dress?’

You smiled. ‘Yeah, I guess it does.’

Natasha didn’t wear much makeup, nor did you, so you were nearly finished. ‘I think the white one. Save the yellow one for a special occasion.’

‘You don’t think Hangman leaving for eighteen months is a special occasion?’

Natasha snorted. ‘No. I don’t think Bagman leaving for eighteen months is a special occasion. That yellow dress is for a first date or a wedding reception. He’d get the wrong idea and—’

Nat cut her sentence in half. Suddenly, she was extremely focused on applying mascara to an eye she’d already finished.

‘And what, Natasha.’

She ignored you.

‘Natasha Trace.’

‘What?’

‘And?’

‘Oh, I just mean it might give everybody the wrong impression. You getting so dolled up on a night that’s all about Jake. Especially now that you’re back on the market.’

‘I am not back on the market. I’m healing.’

‘Yeah, right. You just need to grow a moustache, and I can start callin’ you Rooster.’

You launched your lip gloss at her, and she ducked, howling with laughter.

‘Hey, don’t bring Roo into this. He’s just very emotionally mature! It’s a good thing.’

‘Emotionally, maybe. But what about everything else?’

You knew it was a lighthearted jest, but you were still stuck on the other part. Did she mean that everyone would get the wrong impression, or was she worried about a certain someone? You hadn’t seen Bradley since he showed up at your door unannounced yesterday. He’d said…what, exactly? Not a great deal. Just that he liked taking care of you, liked knowing that he was the cause of your happiness.

What was a girl to make of that?

‘We’ve gotta be there in twenty minutes,’ Nat said, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘Best get that dress on, Marilyn.’

‘She’s not here yet, man. You’re gonna get a crick in your neck if you keep turning round to look at the doors.’

Bradley rolled his eyes in Jake’s general direction. He didn’t want to make eye contact because he knew he’d be met with that world-famous shit-eating grin. It was bad enough that he was pining after you, he didn’t need Hangman—of all people—giving him shit for it. After last night’s activities, he was all too aware of how pathetic he was.

‘On a serious note,’ Jake continued. ‘What’s the deal with you two?’

‘There is no deal.’ Bradley replied. Because there wasn’t.

‘Oh come on, you think I came off the back of yesterday’s milk truck or somethin’? You better not be about to tell me that you’re just friends.’

‘We are just friends. There’s nothing else to it.’

‘But you want there to be.’ This was a statement, not a question.

‘It doesn’t matter what I want. She’s still getting over Viper.’

‘That clown. He’s so crooked, he could swallow a nail and spit up a damn corkscrew. I’m still pissed I didn’t get to run into him before my deployment. I’d have given him two matching shiners.’

Bradley had to smirk at this. ‘I think that’d add to what he’s already got going on.’

‘He’s got nothing going on. He’s the ugliest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen, and I’m sittin’ in front of you.’

‘You really can’t give it a rest, even if it’s your last night, huh?’

Jake winked. ‘You should know me by now, Rooster.’

Bradley sipped his beer. It was nearly empty, but he didn’t feel like pushing his way through the masses to get to the bar. Mainly because he was waiting for you to arrive so he could buy you a drink, too.

‘All I’m saying,’ Jake said. ‘Is that when I get home and open my front door, I want there to be a wedding invitation waiting for me.’

Bradley’s heart constricted. It wasn’t that he’d never thought of your name, his and marriage in the same sentence, it was just that he’d never said or heard it said out loud before. It was like Jake had just come up behind him and ripped his stool out from underneath his ass.

He was lost in thought, imagining you in a white gown walking down the aisle, when Jake suddenly wolf-whistled. Bradley’s head snapped up, and he followed Jake’s line of sight to the front doors. You were arm in arm with Natasha, and although Bradley wasn’t sure he believed in God, something out there must have been listening to his thoughts.

It wasn’t a wedding gown, but it was the prettiest little white dress he’d ever seen. Your hair was done all curly, and a pretty white bow was clipped in the back to keep the top half out of your eyes. Bradley’s eyes must have been bulging out of his head because Jake elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

‘Anybody ever tell you it’s rude to stare at a lady?’

He flushed from embarrassment and something else. The same something had taken over his body in the shower the previous night.

When you and Nat got to the table, he did his best to organise his facial features into something that resembled composure.

‘Ladies,’ Jake bowed dramatically. ‘You both look gorgeous.’

Natasha squinted at him as though she was waiting for the catch. The catch never came, so at least Hangman was being nice to someone on his last night.

You hugged Jake, but as quick as the flames of jealousy licked at his insides, they were put out. You looped your arms around his neck (obviously standing on tiptoes) and pressed yourself against him. He brought his arms up and wrapped them around your lower back, pushing you even closer. It was all warmth and skin and the strawberries in your shampoo, and he wanted more.

More. More. More.

Jake cleared his throat, and just like that, it was over. He missed the contact already, but not for long. The next thing he knew, you took his hand and led him towards the bar, Jake and Natasha following closely behind.

What had he done to get so lucky tonight?

The vibes at The Hard Deck were always lively. If pure, unadulterated joy had a physical form, it would be this bar on a Friday night with all your closest friends. Despite the sad and somewhat scary occasion, you were there to mark, it was still one of the best nights you’d ever had. There’d been good food, homemade cocktails, round after round of Penny’s special shots (that she wouldn’t reveal the contents of) and your favourite songs on the Jukebox. It was hard to tell if they were your favourite songs because they stood out to you or because you were listening to them here, surrounded by these specific people on this night.

You and Mickey were belting the lyrics of Africa by Toto when Bradley reached around and yanked the jukebox cord out of the wall rather unceremoniously.

‘Hey!’ You yelled.

‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ he grinned. ‘I’m gonna play some real music.’

You were about to argue that Toto was real music when the meaning of his statement dawned on you.

He was getting behind the piano.

Since you’d disappeared from the face of the Earth for a while, you hadn’t experienced one of Bradley’s performances for a long time. Few things were more enjoyable than seeing him perform. Your whole body tingled with anticipation, as it did when you were about to drop on a giant rollercoaster or the first time you’d gone up in a jet.

He was watching you expectantly, and you realised he’d just asked you something.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said, do you wanna sit with me at the piano?’

Your heart soared. Nobody ever sat with him at the piano.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yes!’

He was chuckling as you followed him to the piano, and you wouldn’t have been able to wipe the smile off your face if you tried.

Mostly everyone drinking at The Hard Deck that night knew what was coming and had swarmed around the piano to await his presence. You were both pretty drunk and when Bradley sat on the bench and pulled you into his lap, you didn’t think anything of it. Had the two of you been sober, he probably wouldn’t have done it, and if he did, you wouldn’t have let him. Because friends don’t do that, and it would have been weird.

Luckily, nobody in the bar was anything close to sober.

‘I’m trying something new tonight.’ He announced. Then quietly—so only you could hear him—he said: ‘It’s for you, doll.’

You had the perfect view of his hands and watched, mesmerised, as his fingers danced along the black and ivory keys. He played with the effortless grace of somebody who had music in their veins and could do it with their eyes closed. You’d heard enough about Goose to know that this particular gift came from him.

When he started singing—

Well. That was a whole other story.

There's a little moonlight dancing on the sand There's a warm breeze blowing by the ocean as you're taking my hand. You need to know where I'm standing now. That I'm right on the edge of giving in to ya Baby it's a long way down.

His raspy voice was like some kind of drug to you. The second he started singing, you were transported from the room to someplace closer to heaven. And it wasn’t just his voice; it was the lyrics. You listened more closely than usual since he’d told you this song was yours.

If I fall, can you let me down easy?

If I leave my heart with you tonight Will you promise me that you're gonna treat it right? I'm barely hangin' on If I fall, can you let me down easy?

The scent of your perfume floatin' in the air You're looking like an angel lying on a blanket with a halo of hair And those lips look too good to be true.

Once I taste that kiss, I know what'll happen I'll be at the mercy of you If I fall, can you let me down easy? If I leave my heart with you tonight Will you promise me that you're gonna treat it right? I'm barely hangin' on If I fall, can you let me down easy?

When the song ended, the whole bar erupted into cheers. He didn’t give them a chance to disperse, though. He launched straight into the crowd favourite: Great Balls of Fire. It used to be your favourite, too, but now. Everyone was dancing and singing along. His legs bounced as he played, and you giggled like a maniac, getting jostled about whenever he moved. You wanted to go and sit somewhere quiet so you could digest the previous moment, but you were too wrapped up in this one.

Everyone begged for an encore once he’d finished playing, but he told everyone he was desperate for another drink but might play something else later. You were still planted firmly in his lap, and you locked eyes with Nat from over the top of the piano. She raised a brow, and you gave her the universal ‘I don’t fucking know what’s going on either’ look. The crowd started trickling outside or to the bar. Somebody plugged the jukebox back in, and Africa resumed, although it didn’t sound as good as before. All you wanted to listen to now was Bradley’s song for you.

It was time for you to get up, which proved incredibly difficult. Bradley was warm and solid in a comforting way but also in another way that you weren’t quite ready to unpack just yet. You climbed out of his lap and turned around to face him. He was still sitting but had moved to the other side of the stool to face your direction. He gazed up at you with those big, puppy dog eyes, and you realised with a start that if you took one more step, you’d be standing between his legs. You could have rested your hands on his shoulders or the sides of his face. You could have leant down and kissed him.

Because of this, you didn’t know what to say, and this wasn’t good because the ball was most certainly in your court. He’d just said everything he needed to say with that song.

You decided just to be honest with him.

‘I don’t know what to say, Roo.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to get that off my chest, and I didn’t know how else to do it.’

‘I will say something,’ you assured him. ‘Just not right this second.’ It was clear that he was trying to hide the dejection he felt. You saw right through the fake smile meant to reassure you, and immediately, you felt as though you’d let him down. Thinking on your feet wasn’t easy when you were drunk, and you might have chosen to do things differently had you been sober. Now probably wasn’t the best time to deal with something like this, but now was all you had. You couldn’t bear letting him go home tonight, thinking you didn’t feel anything towards him.

So you took his hand in yours and tugged his arm. He got up silently, and you led him outside, across the decking and onto the sand. He trailed behind you down to the water, which was starting to come back in after low tide.

Your thought process had been that it might be better to talk out of earshot from the rest of the daggers and that words might come easier if you were somewhere more peaceful. This was, in fact, not the case, and the absence of commotion was only making things awkward. There was nothing to distract you from the longing behind his eyes, nothing to distract him from the way you nervously picked at the skin around your fingers.

It had never been this way with you and Bradley. Way before Elijah—which was beginning to feel like it had happened to someone else and not you—your friendship had been as easy as eggs on a Sunday morning. Thoughts flowed freely during lengthy but never tiring conversations. You didn’t need to guess how he felt and vice versa because both of you always just knew. You had inside jokes for days and more than a few secrets.

Just because you hadn’t grown up together and hadn’t known one another your whole lives didn’t mean you weren’t inseparable. The bond you shared was forged in everlasting fire the day you met at the academy. It was made out of some kind of magic, a rare kind that most people spent their whole lives searching for and never even coming close to.

As you thought about all this, you realised what a fool you’d been to neglect such a bond for somebody like Elijah. But even with all this, you’d never imagined the two of you would be anything more than best friends. When you had something as extraordinary as this, it was hard to fathom risking it when it was already perfect the way it was.

Or so you’d thought.

What if it wasn’t perfect the way it was? What if all those years of friendship were a prequel to something better?

A forever kind of something.

You took a deep breath and trusted that if you spoke your heart, everything would turn out precisely the way it was supposed to. And since you were speaking your heart, you started by saying his name. He’d been looking out over the water, but now he focused his attention back on you. You didn’t think you’d ever spent so many consecutive minutes in his company without him saying anything.

‘I wasted so much time looking for love in the wrong places,’ you started. ‘And when it ended the way I always knew it would—deep down—I listened to you tell me over and over that real love isn’t supposed to feel like that. I listened to you tell me that I deserved better, all while not believing what you were saying.’

It was hard to look at him now. There was so much riding on whatever you chose to say next.

‘What I’m trying to say is, I wasted so much time looking for love and the real meaning of it, when I should have been looking at what was right in front of my face the whole time.’

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say. You wished it could’ve been more eloquent—like his song—but this was what you had, and so you gave it to him.

He smiled broadly, and it reached all the way up to his eyes.

Oh, the things you’d have done for that smile.

Part of you was worried that these kinds of revelations would mess with your synchronicity, but you had no need to worry. There was no awkwardness, no clunkiness and no anxiety when he cupped your face in both his hands, and you reached up to loop your arms around his neck. You only felt overwhelming joy and an innate sense of rightness when your lips met in the most passionate of kisses.

And when he tilted your head back further and parted your lips with his tongue, you were able to revisit that feeling you’d felt when he pulled you into his lap not half an hour before. It wasn’t something you could tame, and you highly doubted he could, either, though you could tell he was going to give it his best shot.

You just couldn’t imagine this getting old or wearing thin. If you and Bradley really were a forever thing, you knew that being with him would always feel as exciting and enticing as it did right now.

You let one hand snake down his side, resting just above his hip. When you pulled his body closer so it was pressing against yours, he groaned into your mouth. You could’ve sworn you’d blacked out for a second.

‘Slow down, doll.’ He said between kisses.

‘Why?’

He pushed you away ever so slightly, and you pouted.

‘Because I wanna do this properly. I want to take you out for dinner, drinks, dancing, all of it. You can’t rush something you want to last forever.’

Ah. So he was thinking the same thing as you, then.

‘What if I’m impatient?’

‘Then I’ll take you to dinner now.'

He was making light, but you decided to indulge him. ‘Take me, then.’

Bradley laughed. ‘It’s almost midnight, sweet girl. We won’t get a table anywhere now.’

‘So take me to In-N-Out. And then take me home.’

His eyes were all pupil, and you knew that now you’d put the thought into his head it would be impossible to take it back out.

‘You’re terrible.’

‘It’s not my fault!’ You protested. ‘You’re standing there looking all delicious, kissing me like that!’

‘If I agree, you have to promise me one thing.’

‘Anything.’

‘At some point next week, you’ll get dressed up. You’ll let me take you to a fancy restaurant with overpriced cocktails and tiny portions, and then you’ll let me drive you home. When we get to your front door, you’ll let me kiss you goodnight, and then you’ll let me go home. We have to do it in a civilised manner at least once.’

You laughed. ‘Okay, fine. If you insist.’

‘I do.’

You kissed him again, and it felt like coming home after being away forever.

‘You know something, Bradley?’ You murmured. ‘I never knew heartbreak could feel so good.’

A/N: I planned on ending this series here, but now that the final part is complete, I've realised I have many more ideas for where this can go. Maybe some sequels or a whole other series off the back of it. If you'd be interested, let me know and I can tag you in future parts.

Taglist: primroseluna eloquentdreamer sgt-barnesveins daybleedsintonightfa11@sadgirlgiselle @sleepy-writersblock @lovelyygirl8 @my-therapist-hates-me

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sinnabarmoth · 1 month ago

Text

Tribute for the Dragon (10/18)

(A/N: Took a short break but we're back! Happy reading!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus gives you some insight into dragon culture and his past

Content Warnings: Adult language. P in V.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18)

Read on AO3

You didn’t get much of a chance to leave the bedroom that day. It wasn’t until late that Sylus decided to have mercy on you that he scooped you up from the bed and carried you out to the hot springs to help relieve some of the ache in your body. The hot water was doing wonders for your overworked muscles.

You could have fallen asleep out there if you weren’t careful. Thankfully you had Sylus to lean on so he wouldn’t let you fall asleep and drown. He had put your body through a lot, you knew without having to look you were covered in bruises and scratches. Yet, despite how intense everything could get he always fell back to tenderness after it was done. Soft words spoken in your ear, soothing touches that helped to ground you once more.

You peeked your eyes open again and found him already staring at you. The smile on his face faltered and your brow furrowed. “Something wrong?” you asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” he said. “I just remembered there was something else I had forgotten to mention this morning.”

“And what would that be?”

“It is nothing but you should know in case you begin to think of our situation in a new way, I don’t want you carrying any false hope.” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dragons do not love.”

You straightened hearing the word love come from his lips. Sylus continued. “We do not love. Dragons are fierce and they care about their mates, protect their children, but the love that you humans know is not who we are.” he traced a finger across your cheek, “I cannot love you, not because I would not want to, I am incapable of it.”

You did not believe that for a second but you did not say anything. If Sylus believed that he couldn’t love then that would have to be something he discovered wasn’t true by himself. Not that you had come into this expecting him to fall in love with you. You didn’t expect some kind of obligation out of him when you invited him into your bed. You had lovers before and did not ask or expect them to fall in love with you either.

As far as you were both concerned, this was all in good fun. But you did not think that he was right. He was a dragon, but he was also very human.

Sylus cleared his throat. “Did you have anything to say about that?” he asked.

“I understand.” you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said he looked mildly disappointed by your reaction.

~~~

After that there was hardly a moment where Sylus was not pouncing on you. At any moment he would be on you, bending you over the closest flat object to fuck you. It did not matter when or what you were doing, if the urge hit he was there. When you were cooking, bathing, cleaning, reading, it mattered not. You had to tell him to stop fucking you while you were in the middle of cooking because your meals were ending up more charcoal than venison. Eating burnt food may not be bad for him but it certainly wasn’t great for you.

As much as he was a menace about it you couldn’t say you were any better. More than once you had ambushed him as well. He always seemed especially pleased when you surprised him like that. The man was a brick wall in every other instance but when you passed him in a corridor and decided throw him up against the wall he did not resist, inviting you further to shove his shoulders down so you could kiss him. It usually ended with him knelt on the floor with your legs over his shoulders and your hands on his horns.

This day you were back in bed, Sylus had you on your side, slowly thrusting against you. There was no hurry. It was a perfect lazy day in, and that counted for sex too. You weren’t even doing it with an end goal of a big orgasm, you had just wanted to feel good together. If you ended up coming then that was all well, but it was not the point.

In a way this felt so much better. The steady slow simmer of pleasure that kept your body warm and your head fuzzy, like when you drank a glass more of mulled wine than you probably should have at the autumn festival.

“Hey Sylus,” you said.

“Want me to speed up again?” he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“No, not that.” you giggled as his lips tickled your skin. “I was wondering something. Why do we never go back to your bedroom?”

“We do.” he eased your leg up to get a better angle on you. “This is my room.”

“What?” you tried to crane your neck back to look at him. “This room?”

“Yes.” he kept your thigh in place with his tail and tilted your head back to kiss your lips. “This was my room before I gave it to you. It’s not exactly easy to get a mattress, let alone a bedframe up the mountain you know. I wasn’t going to do it more than needed.”

“But why?” you tried to twist in his arms to look at him but he kept you pinned on your side, not willing to leave you.

“Because I figured you would rather sleep in a bed then some slab of stone somewhere in the cave. Are you done asking questions now?”

“No! Where have you been sleeping all this time then?”

“The hoard room mostly. I’m far more used to the hard ground so it wasn’t a problem. But I am glad I can finally reclaim my own bed.” he thrust into you a little harder.

“Mm,” you sighed, reclining back against him. “Why did you never say anything?”

“Wouldn’t have changed anything, except to make you feel guilty.”

“But it was your bed first! You hadn’t even known me more than half an hour when you gave me this room. Why wouldn’t you--”

“I already told you why. And I wasn’t going to take it back even if you offered.”

“But--”

“That’s enough of these questions. You have your answers. There’s nothing to change them now. In fact,” he covered your mouth, “You’re going to keep quiet until we’re done here. If you make a single sound when you come you’re going to get punished. Understand, little bird?”

You nodded, your heart racing with this new game. “Good girl.” he rolled you onto your stomach, his cock still wedged in you from behind. “I’m going to start pounding you now and remember, not a sound.”

Your face was buried in the mattress as he fucked you from behind. The low simmer you had been idly burning in for the morning was quickly being stoked into a raging fire. Your instinct was to cry out and moan as your pussy took the harsh pace. Sylus was not giving you a chance to ease into the oncoming orgasm. He was delivering it hard and fast and without mercy.

You bit your lip to keep silent, trying to breathe through your nose to control yourself. You wondered for a moment if Sylus would really be able to hear a tiny little moan or whine over the noise of your bodies pounding together or his own grunting. But then you remembered how keen his sense of smell was. No doubt he had some advanced hearing too. You couldn’t tell. So much about dragons was still a mystery to you.

Sylus kept a hand between your shoulderblades, pushing your chest flat against the mattress. “Fuck! Your pussy is hotter than the hells, wildfire. It feels as if my cock is melting any time I am in you.”

Gods above this wasn’t a fair game! How were you meant to keep quiet when he talked like that?

“Turn and look at me.” he grabbed your hair and turned your head to the side so your one eye was looking back at him. He could see how tightly you were biting your lip and smiled. “Do you want to moan and scream for me?”

You nodded.

“I know you do. You want to moan and whine like a bitch in heat. You want to come for me, don’t you?”

Again you nodded. You pushed your hips back onto him and his smile grew. “Needy little thing.” he stopped moving and at that you almost cried out in frustration. “Don’t stop now. Fuck yourself on my cock just like this, push back on it. Come on.”

Gods damn him! Why did he have to make this harder? But you complied, moving your hips back to thrust against him while he remained still. He kept his hands on your ass, kneading the soft flesh but otherwise just watched as you pushed yourself against him.

Fuck it felt good! You picked up the speed, your thrusts getting shallower as you found a spot that hit you just right in your cunt. With you controlling the pace now you were better able to stop your moans from escaping. Maybe you could actually come without making any noise if this was the case.

“You’re doing so good, little bird. I love watching you like this. Taking whatever you want.” Sylus said, hand snaking around your hips to flick at your clit. “But remember who is the master here.”

He grabbed you by the hips and started pounding into you again, even harder and faster this time. The change was so jarring you ended up biting your lip so hard you felt your teeth cut into it. Blood wetted your bottom lip as you were quickly propelled into your orgasm. Your whole body had gone taut like the string of an archer’s bow, muscles clenched and tight in an effort of control, but you had made no noise.

“Fucking hells!” Sylus moaned, thrusting into your tight body twice more before spilling himself inside you. He took in a deep breath and the lust cleared from his eyes to find you still shaking and silent, eyes full of pleasurable tears as you waited for permission to speak.

“You can breathe now, little bird.” his thumb traced your face, massaging your clenched jaw. “You don’t have to keep quiet anymore. You did so well.”

All at once your body collapsed as you let out deep ragged breaths. Sylus pulled out of you and turned you over to lay next to him. “You’re bleeding.” he kissed your lips, taking your bleeding lip into his mouth. “There, better?”

“Yes.” you found your voice sounded entirely too loud now that you were allowed to talk. “You’re going to kill me with these games.”

“But aren’t they such fun?” he gave you a lopsided smile. “We’ve had a lot of fun together these past couple of weeks, haven’t we?”

“Weeks?” Had it really been that long since the beach? The days had begun to blur together, measured not by suns and moons but by being in bed and out of it.

It got you thinking. How long had you been on this mountain? It had been late spring when you had come to the mountain and now summer was nearing its end. Autumn would be coming in soon enough and the bitter winter after that. Had it really been so long since you came here?

“We’ve known each other for a couple of months now, do you realize?” you asked him.

He cocked his head. “So we have. It does not feel as if that much time has passed.”

“Not at all.” you agreed. “And yet I feel as comfortable as if I have been here all my life.”

“It is funny to think about a time before you. My world was so quiet before.” he tapped your chin, “You brought in so much noise, chirping away like the little bird you are.”

You propped your chin on his shoulder. “Sylus, can I ask you something a little personal? If you don’t want to answer that’s fine but the curiosity has been clawing at me.”

“What is it?”

“Why did you not want me to see that chest from before?” Instantly you watched Sylus start to withdraw from you, walls going up all around him. “Like I said, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to. I don’t want to pry, I just want to understand.”

You could see him debating. You had given him an easy out but the fact that he was considering it gave you hope. Finally he dropped his head and muttered quietly. “Fine. The contents of that chest are mementos. That’s all.”

“Mementos of what?”

“Of my life.” he fidgeted with his claws, something you noticed he only did when he was anxious which was rare. “Things from my past that I couldn’t bring myself to throw away. Stupid things like childhood clothes and books I stole from villages I lived in, part of the eggshell I hatched from…and a pendant from the dragons.”

“A pendant?”

“The only thing the dragons gave me out of kindness rather than pity. That’s why it’s so large. Tengya had made it for me.”

“Tengya? The giant dragon from the beach?” You recalled the huge black and red dragon from that night and how terrifying he had been.

“Yes.” Sylus balled his hands into fists. “Tengya…Tengya was the dragon that gave the woman who bore me the scale that cursed her. So, in a way he is my…”

“Father?”

“Creator.” Sylus said. “That is probably the reason why I survived as long as I did in the dragon tribe. Tengya felt some responsibility for this monster he created.”

“You’re not a monster.” you uncurled his fist so you could hold his hand. “I wish you would stop calling yourself that.”

Sylus didn’t say anything.

“So what is the pendant exactly?” you asked, trying to steer the subject back to safer ground. “Does it serve some purpose?”

“It grants me safe passage through a dragon’s land. Since I only sort of look like a dragon they thought it important to mark me as one of them regardless. But I feel no need to wander anymore.” he buried his face in your hair, “I like this mountain and it turned out to be a fortuitous place to settle down considering what else this land ended up offering me.”

A chuckle rose in your throat. “And who in the village would have thought that a dragon moving in would have ended up being such a good thing?” You rested kissed his cheek. “I would like to go back one day, see everyone one last time. My father especially.”

“My little bird,” Sylus said, “It is safe to say that you are no prisoner here. You stayed out of obligation but I will not keep you here forever, never to see the outside world again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you can go see your village whenever you want, so long as you return home to me.”

You pulled back with a wide and hopeful smile on your face. “Really? You mean that?”

“Yes, I mean it. I should have told you sooner but I’ve enjoyed having you all to myself for so long I didn’t want to share you.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him. “Thank you! You have no idea what that means to me.” you were bouncing in place, so giddy with the thought of seeing the village again. “You know, there’s actually a celebration that should be happening soon now that summer is ending. It’s the autumn harvest celebration. It was always one of my favorites.”

“Then it sounds as if you must attend.”

“Would…would you want to go with me?”

Sylus blinked at you. “A dragon attending a human celebration? We would certainly turn heads.”

“Oh right.” some of your enthusiasm faded. “Well, I can assure everyone that you are no danger to them. You did save them after all. They should want to get to know you and who knows, the may even express their gratitude for what you did for us.”

Sylus didn’t look convinced. “You’re optimistic.”

“I know.” You took both his hands in yours, “I know that you haven’t had great luck with humans before but maybe this time things can be different. They will be different. I’ll make sure of it.”

“And you are far too good a person, do you know that? Tell me, how does a heart bleed that much when I can’t even get mine to beat?”

You placed your hand over his chest. “You keep saying that dragons are incapable of human love but maybe that isn’t the problem. Maybe you should be asking what it is that dragon love is. Can it really be so different from human love?”

He placed his hand over your own wildly beating heart. His gaze grew wistful. “I doubt it is as tender as you love.”

You sighed. No trying to convince him today. You tucked yourself into his side. “I doubt that, Sylus. I really do.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #dragon sylus #lads dragon au

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goldenfigtree · 1 year ago

Text

The L Word

Summary: yet another glimpse into you and Leon’s relationship where Leon realizes that his feelings for you are stronger than he thought.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x FemReader

Warning: fluff, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart, babe)

A/N: Yet another Drabble I wrote instead of sleeping enjoy merp

It was yet another day where you two decided to relax all day indoors. Something Leon insisted on doing so the morning after he came home. You couldn’t really blame him. After dealing with some disgustingly horrifying monsters, you would also like to escape reality through the static of the tv screen.

What you didn’t know was that he really just wanted an excuse to wrap you in his arms. After every mission he often found himself touch starved, craving it like a wild animal. With you now by his side, it was only through the touch of your hand on his face, your arms around him, that he knew he was home.

That he was no longer perceived as a weapon but as a person.

After this mission specifically, your absence really took a toll on him. Four long months without your presence or to even hear your voice felt like he was waning off an addiction he didn’t know he had. To stomach the distance meant staring at a Polaroid picture of you that he kept in his wallet. It didn’t seem to help, if anything it felt like it was making it even worse.

It was these, what he considered, strange behaviors that made him question how much he liked you. He would be shooting down deformed monstrosities and wondering what you were doing right at that moment. Every night, he found his hand outstretched on the other side of the hotel bed, wishing you were there.

Did this mean he didn’t just like you but felt something far stronger?

Maybe even the L word?

Leon far before Raccoon City could have easily answered this question. But as he went on living, the lines that were once so bold were now blurring and fading away.

“So, a movie night?” You slur out your words playfully as you open the pantry. You pursed your lips in disappointment as you scanned the shelves for something, anything for your movie night. But nothing was there, “Might need to make a quick trip to the grocery store” you mutter to yourself while clicking your tongue. You were clearly excited by the idea of spending a day watching movies and cuddling with your lover, so the fact that there was a lack of your typical movie night snacks was mildly disappointing. Leon let out an amused chuckle, leaning against the pantry doorframe, his frame close behind you, his shadow consuming you.

“It’s not the snacks that I’m craving, pretty girl” he flirts in his suddenly husky voice. Tapping your chin you turn to him and hum,

“Ah, the movie that’s right! What are you in the mood for?” you ask, blissfully unaware of his insinuation. He can’t help but smile as he shakes his head,

“I’m in a bit of a romantic mood” he slyly says pulling you close with his hand on your waist. Blushing slightly you affectionately pat his chest before moving over to slip on your shoes and grab your bag from the hall tree,

“I’m gonna run to the grocery store real quick, wanna come?”

Without hesitation, Leon walks out with you to the car. Always one to refuse you the liberty of running errands by yourself in fear of something happening to you. Opening the driver’s door for you first, he then slips into the passenger side. A liberty you gladly took from him a while back when you witnessed how he drove. As long as he was with you, he was strictly passenger princess.

After the drive, you parked the car and opened your door without thinking, which earned a stern look from Leon. You sigh and roll your eyes as you shut the door, watching him get out to walk to your side and open the door for you,

“Thanks babe” you say defeatedly, a smirk in your view as you walked in front of him towards the store,

“Any time” he warmly replies, subconsciously grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

Walking from aisle to aisle, the two of you discussed and debated which snacks to take home. At one point you and him had to suffice to not getting twizzlers or red vines because the both of you were unwavering on your opinions on which is better. Eventually, you and Leon make it to the ice cream section, where yet an argument sprouted, except this time it was purposely provoked,

“Should we get some ice cream?” You ask wiggling your eyebrows as you held up a pint of Talenti gelato. Leon, being Italian, scoffs at the pint,

“That’s gelato, babe” you chuckle and roll your eyes, putting the gelato pint back in its respective spot in the freezer,

“What’s the difference?” you ask sweetly, a smirk on your lips as you mentally prepared for what’s to come.

Leon turns to look at you incredulously, “What’s the difference? What’s the difference?”

You chuckle and roll your eyes, gripping the shopping cart as you cock your hip,

“Oh here we go”

“Gelato is denser, more rich than ice cream” Leon explains, listing the differences with his fingers,

“Uh huh” you deadpan

“Ice cream uses eggs, gelato doesn’t” he adds matter-of-factly

“Got it” you deadpan again, stifling a giggle at his passionate explanation. You couldn’t help but find it humorous and adorable that he fell for your schemes to get him like this every time. You loved to tease him and just couldn’t help it.

Once you two purchased your movie night snacks and Leon had finally got his point across, it was finally time for the movie night to begin. With all the snacks on the coffee table, and the both of you drowning in blankets it was already off to a good start. Leon, however, thought that he could make it better. Grabbing you by your side, he pulls you down with him as he lays on the couch.

Finally, the moment he was really waiting for. Without protest, you go along with him and rest your head on his chest, one of his hands caressing your hair as the two of you watched the movie. For the first time in a while, he felt safe. He didn’t know what he did to have you as his significant other. Someone so patient and understanding to his past and his present. Living a life filled with crime and suffering, at one point he didn’t believe people like you existed. And yet, there you were in his arms. His heart fluttered at the sight of you, smiling serenely to yourself while you watched the tv. His heart began beating faster,

“Babe?” He asks softly, making you look up at him.

“Mhm?”

“I love you” your eyes widened by his words. For it was the first time he had ever said those words to you. You’ve wanted to hear him utter those words for so long, almost finding the courage to say them first. But when you were on the verge of confession, you looked into his steel-like blue eyes and immediately stammered to change the subject. You even questioned if this relationship was more serious to you than it was to him.

But now here he was, telling you he loved you. You couldn’t help but beam at those three words, as you propped yourself up on his chest by your elbows,

“You love me?” A bubbly giggle escapes you as you ask this question. Leon sits himself up, his hands tugging you closer by your waist, seating you on his lap, as he looks at you sincerely. Leaning closer you whisper against his lips, “Say it again”

“I love you” the words vibrate against your lips as he captures them with his own. They brushed and pressed softly yet meaningfully. With your arms around his neck you pull away, resting your forehead against his,

“I love you too” you felt his chest fall as he let out a breath through his nose in relief before he leaned in once more, kissing you harder. Sucking the breath out of you, while your teeth clacked against his and his nose smushed against your own. Your arms around his neck pull him closer in the midst of the crashing of your lips and gasps for air in between. He had never felt more alive than he did at this moment. His hands trailed to your hips and gripped them tightly as he began nibbling at your wet bottom lip. Your hands reached his face, your thumbs caressing his cheekbones, once the kiss trailed to pecks that resorted to no end. It took everything within him to stop kissing you. Every single kiss made him feel as if he was brought back to life again. But for your sake, he pulled away so you could catch your breath, admiring the sight of your swollen lips and your dreamy gaze at him. The corners of your mouth lift as your breaths slow to their original pace,

“Why’d you stop?” You ask breathlessly. The sentence alone shot an arrow through his heart.

“Didn’t want to overwhelm you, sweetheart” he responds, letting his hands trail from your hair to your back. With an almost offended look you poke his chest with your index finger,

“Overwhelm me? No no, finish what you started” you lightly tease, a flustered giggle to follow when you noticed a certain glint in his eyes,

“Oh I will” in one swift movement he stands up and throws you over his shoulder, making you squeal with laughter as you squirmed,

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“You’re going to eat your words, pretty girl” he retorts sarcastically, firmly holding you over his shoulder with a smug grin while walking to your bedroom.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #spotify #leon being a lovesick puppy #this man is touchstarved #me too tho #passenger princess

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lynzishell · 4 months ago

Text

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m at my desk trying to focus on writing code for our game, but it’s slow going. Distracted by my own thoughts, I find myself staring out the window in front of me more often than not while my fingers rest on the keyboard. Ash sits patient and unbothered on my bed, playing on my Switch while he waits for me to finish.

We’re quieter today than usual, both of us tired and mildly hungover from the night before, but still determined to make some progress today.

I try my best to clear my mind, to focus on the screen in front of me and listen to the music coming from my Lin-Z speaker, quietly singing along and bouncing my leg anxiously to the beat. Every once in a while, Ash chimes in, singing a line or two along with me, and I realize how often I make him put up with my playlist even though he much prefers his own. But I have a specific one that helps me when I work, so he usually doesn’t protest too much.

As I sing the lyrics to Your Silent Face for about the thousandth time in my life, and still never tiring of it, I hear Ash join me in singing the last line, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. So, why don’t you piss off,” and we both chuckle under our breath. Over time it’s become a joke between us, ever since the day he walked up to me at work to invite me out for a drink and caught me singing the line aloud.

I think about that night at the bar often. Sitting in the dark corner, like we were in our own world, nothing in the universe existing but the two of us, talking until the bar closed. I remember how disappointed I was when we were eventually forced to leave, how nervous I was as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. And I’ll never forget the first time that I kissed him.

I can’t help but wonder where we’d be now if I’d let things continue, if I hadn’t gotten in my head and panicked, if I hadn’t pushed him away. And I want nothing more than to set things right.

As he sits behind me on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about the last time he was there and the words he said to me. I wish I’d handled it differently. I want to take it all back. To tell him he was right. But I don’t know how. Ash is the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet, every time I think of opening my mouth to say anything I have a deep sense of dread that it will come out all wrong, that I’ll somehow make everything worse by doing so.

“I have a question.” The sound of Ash’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I stop typing, suddenly nervous, though I’m not sure why.

“What’s up?”

“The whole I-don’t-date-people-I-work-with thing, is that for real? Or is it your way of letting me down gently?”

I’m a bit confused by his question. Could he really think I’m not into him and just saying that to spare his feelings? “No, I meant it.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

I get up from my desk and walk over to join him on the bed as I think about how to answer. I hate that I suddenly feel the need to defend an argument that I don’t fully believe, but what else am I supposed to do? Say never mind, I was full of shit? Or actually I’ve changed my mind, let’s forget about it. I can’t do that. So, I give a reason, and secretly hope he makes a solid rebuttal that will give me the opening I need to take it back, “It’s messy,” I say, “Like, if we get in a fight or break up, and still have to work together, it’s just—”

“Messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...” he stands and walks over to my bookshelf, looking over it like he’s suddenly very interested in my old worn-out copies of Tolkien books. I have a tendency to reread the same books, the same way I listen to the same songs over and over. I suppose I find comfort in the familiar. Maybe even more so than most. I’m tempted to make a comment about it, but I know Ash well enough by now to know that he’s not interested in the books, that he’s thinking carefully about what he wants to say next, so I wait. Eventually, he turns back to me, “So, if we didn’t work together…?”

“Then, it’d be different.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he walks over. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, his legs between mine. He tilts his head to the side curiously, “Different how? Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pretend for, say, five minutes, that we don’t work together.” He leans forward, bringing his hand up to my cheek, his face mere inches from mine, the spices from the chai tea he drank on his way over still lingering on this breath, and I feel a rush of heat fill my face and neck as if the very nearness of him has set me alight.

“Five minutes?”

“Mhm,” he grins, “Five minutes. What would you do differently?” His eyes take on that playful glimmer that makes my heart race. I know that look. He knows I know that look. And it all goes to my head until all I can think about is pulling him back onto the bed with me.

“Set a timer.”

He smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek as he slides his thumb over the screen before turning it around to show me it’s set for exactly 05:00. “Starting… now,” he presses the green button and tosses it onto the bed.

I waste no time, reaching for him as soon as the phone leaves his hand, and pulling him with me as I lie back. He falls on top of me with a startled laugh.

I don’t have the luxury of taking things slowly, of savoring each second the way I normally would. Instead, I roll him over and kiss him fiercely. Our legs intertwine, and I hold him as close to me as I can, wishing we’d had time to remove our clothes so I could feel his skin against mine.

Our kisses become deep and passionate, and I start to resent the timer counting down, my awareness of it preventing me from fully giving in to the moment. I’m tempted to reach over and turn it off, but I can’t do that, so instead I move my lips to his jaw, following the path of his birthmark and burying my face in his neck wishing I could pause time through sheer will alone.

And then the timer goes off. A series of loud beeps brings the room back into focus, and we pull away, breathless and laughing.

“Time’s up,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbow.

“Damn. I should’ve gone for an hour.”

“That would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” I laugh as he pushes me away playfully so he can get to his phone, still beeping behind us.

The sounds of Blue Monday coming from the speaker take the place of the alarm as he shuts it off and slides the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, well,” he looks over at me, “you’ve convinced me.”

Convinced him? I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed something along the way. “Convinced you of what?”

“I’ll put in my notice on Monday.”

Everything inside me halts. My heart, my breath, every cell in my body stopping in their tracks. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugs as though what he’s saying is no big deal, “Why not? It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. Question is, is that enough? Or are you gonna make me wait the two weeks until I’m actually gone?”

My body restarts again, overcorrecting and going into overdrive, panicking at the idea of him leaving, of not seeing him every day. Getting coffee, going for walks, eating lunch, telling stupid inside jokes over IM and hearing him laugh from across the room… all of it… ending. “I… I don’t want you to quit.”

“Well, if you won’t let me be both, then I choose boyfriend over co-worker.”

“Wh- boyfriend?” A fresh wave of anxiety pours over me at the word. I mean, I get it, we’re obviously not just friends, I don’t think we ever have been, and we’re clearly incapable of being casual, at least with each other, so boyfriend makes sense, but hearing him say the word only reminds me of how incompetent and inexperienced I am when it comes to real relationships.

“Or am I just a piece of ass?”

“What?! No, of course not, it’s not like that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. My head spins, scrambling to come up with something... I can’t let him quit his job just to be with me. It’s too much. And I don’t want to not work with him. But I can’t tell him I want him to stay and be with me. Not after all the time I’ve spent insisting he can’t. Even if I could, I have no idea how to be his boyfriend. Not for real. But isn’t this exactly what I wanted?

I have to find a way to talk to him, but the longer I stay silent, the harder it is to find the words as they get crowded out by the growing chaos of conflicting thoughts swirling around my head like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl.

Next to me, I feel his shoulders slump, and I know I’ve let him down… again. “Right.” He says this as if my silence has told him everything he needs to know. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Atlas," he sighs, "I’m tired of the mixed signals. I wish you could just be honest with me. When you're ready to do that, let me know. But I’m not going to wait around much longer. I can’t.”

I reach for him as he gets up to leave, “Ash, wait.”

But he shrugs me off, “Nah,” and continues out the door.

Once he’s gone, I lie down on the bed wondering how the hell I’ve managed to fuck this up yet again.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think I could do things differently.

And, if that’s the case, maybe it’s time I let him go.

As this realization sinks in, I feel my heart start to break, slowly at first, small fissures splintering, then shattering all at once as I stare silently at the floor, my throat tightening as my body tries desperately to remember how to cry, to give some kind of cathartic release for the pain. But, just like me, it fails yet again.

Prev // Deja vu // Next

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt4 #past #atlas stephens #asher goode

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xmads-omensx · 3 months ago

Text

Once Upon A Dream

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,781

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, wearing, kissing, mentions of a slight fear of rollercoasters and mild anxiety

Summary: Noah takes Y/N to Disney for their anniversary... except they can't quite get rid of the rest of the guys

Thanks @tosoundlessdarkistare for the idea <3

I have also never been to Disney Land before so please be aware that there will be inaccuracies.

I had always wanted to go to Disney, ever since I was a kid, but I had never had the chance to go. It was always too expensive when I was younger, and by the time we could afford it, I had pretty much outgrown it.

Part of me still wanted to go, but with balancing work and spending time with Noah when he wasn’t on tour, it was hard to find the time to visit with enough time to do everything that I wanted to do.

This wasn’t something I had told Noah outright. It wasn’t exactly something I openly told people. The circle of people I surrounded myself with were, much like Noah, intimidating metalheads covered in tattoos who would have absolutely no business being in Disneyland. The mental image made me laugh.

One day, I had some time between meetings. I was working from home that day, so I didn’t really have anything to do in this particular thirty minute gap, so I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to have a glance at prices for a hypothetical trip to Disneyland. My very surface-level research confirmed the astronomical prices for tickets, and did not factor in accommodation, snacks, souvenirs or a second person to join me on the trip.

I promptly gave up on my side-quest and went back to my meeting, feeling ever so slightly defeated at my lack of accomplishment.

The rest of the day felt heavier. It wasn’t like I desperately wanted to do, but more so something the small child within me yearned for. Plenty of kids my age, friends included all got to experience the joys of Disney, but I never quite reached that.

Crawling into bed after dinner felt nice. Especially with Noah wrapped around me.

“How was your day?” He asked softly.

“Not bad. Work was a bit boring, as usual.” I laughed into his chest, making him laugh as well.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around much today. We were making real progress in the studio.” He said softly, a twinge of regret in his voice.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re making progress, honey.” I replied, snuggling further into his chest.

“Me too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I drifted off to sleep easily. I always did with Noah there.

The next day I woke up to an empty bed. I didn’t like waking up alone. I looked around the room but couldn’t see Noah anywhere. The bathroom was empty and it was only 9:45am, so he shouldn’t be at the studio just yet.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and left our shared bedroom. My office was down the hall and the light was on. Weird. I was sure I had turned it off when you finished work yesterday.

Walking closer to the slightly ajar door, I started to hear voices coming from inside. Noah? Matt? Jolly? Why were they in my office?

I lightly pushed the door open and they hurriedly stopped their conversation. Noah had a look that was equally suspicious as it was guilty.

“What are you guys doing in here?” I asked sleepily, rubbing my eye.

“Nothing really, just chilling.” Noah said, trying to act calm but ultimately failing.

“In my office?” I asked sceptically.

The guys looked between eachother as I just stared at them. From an outside perspective, it must have looked like a mildly disappointed mother scolding her three sons.

“You better take this one man, it was your idea.” Matt said, clapping Noah on his back, making Jolly laugh.

Noah sighed before speaking. “So, you know how our anniversary is coming up soon?”

“Yeah.” I said, a small smile appearing on my face, as it did every time someone mentioned our anniversary

“I thought maybe we could go on a little trip, instead of just going on a nice date or something.” He said quietly, with a small smile on his face.

“A trip where?” I asked, excited.

“That’s a surprise.” Noah replied.

“Disney Land!” Matt and Jolly exclaimed at the same time Noah was speaking.

“Are you both fucking kidding me!” Noah shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

Matt and Jolly laughed at his outburst, hurriedly escaping the room to avoid Noah’s anger as well as the pillow he had picked up to throw at them.

I just watched, laughing at them.

“I’m sorry baby, it was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled, looking down at the ground in defeat.

“Hey.” He looked up at me when I began to speak. “It’s okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

He smiled softly and pulled me into his lap, placing a kiss on my cheek. “Good morning beautiful.” He said softly.

“Morning handsome.” I giggled.

We stayed like that for another few moments before deciding to go and get ready for the day.

The rest of the week rolled around quickly as Noah and I’s anniversary approached. We had packed for three days at Disney Land and were eagerly awaiting our trip to roll around.

After what felt like eternity, the time had arrived for us to begin our journey to Disney Land. Luckily, we didn’t live too far away, so we could drive there and back relatively easily, but we still booked a hotel to make out lives easier.

Moving our bags by the front door, Noah began loading up his car. Since it was our anniversary, he wasn’t letting me help him with anything, which frustrated me, but seeing as he was significantly taller than me and could lift me up like it was nothing, there wasn’t much point trying to help him.

“Noah come on. Let me help.” I had argued.

“Nope.” He simply replied.

“Noah ju-“ I started before he interrupted me.

“I said nope.” He looked at me with a jokingly stern expression.

I had sighed, giving up.

Once the car had been packed, Noah clapped his hands together, proud of himself, and we began to make our way to his car.

Before we could even open the door, a small commotion from inside the house made us pause, before what can only be described as a gaggle of arguing men poured out the front door carrying bags with them.

Nick, Folio, Jolly, Matt, Bryan and Steven now all stood on our driveway looking mildly sheepish.

“Where are you guys going?” Noah asked with a suspicious tone, nervously eyeing the bags they each carried along with them.

“So, we may or may not have booked tickets to go with you guys to Disney Land.” Folio said sheepishly.

“Out anniversary trip to Disney Land?” Noah asked, still eyeing them all suspiciously.

The rest of the guys had a guilty look on their faces. “We’ll stay out of your way, we just liked the idea.” Nick added, trying to lessen their guilt.

“You fucking better.” Noah huffed before getting into the drivers seat of his car.

“See you guys later I guess.” I laughed before climbing in the passenger seat.

Noah sighed before starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He remained quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, which was unlike him. He usually asked for a specific playlist, or talked about our plans for the day.

“Are you okay babe?” I asked, placing my hand on his knee and squeezing it affectionately.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighed. “I just wanted to take you somewhere special for a break away from the others. You know? Just us.”

“And whilst that is a very nice idea babe, we both know that neither of us will ever escape those guys.” I laughed.

“Yeah you’re right.” Noah sighed, a weak smile appearing on his face.

“I have a nasty habit of doing that.” I smirked at him.

“shut up. Put some music on babe, you’re choice.” Noah laughed.

“Okay.” I giggled, queuing up my musical theatre playlist, which I knew Noah secretly liked, despite stating that he hated it several times.

The entire drive there I performed every single song, which was probably why Noah constantly protested the playlist every time. I more or less made a mockery of his job.

Once we arrived at the hotel, we unloaded Noah’s car and brought our things up to the hotel room, which wasn’t fancy in the slightest, but did the job for four nights. The guys had booked rooms in the same hotel, but luckily not on the same floor as Noah and I, so we still got some peace and quiet away from them.

Dinner time rolled around and Noah took me out for a very nice, quiet, romantic meal for our anniversary, as had become tradition between the two of us over the last few years.

The morning sunshine lit up our hotel room and aroused me from my sleep, Noah still lay beside me snoring contently away. As much as I hated to wake him, I knew that we probably had to leave soon to avoid the rush at the entrance. I gently brushed the stray hairs off of his face, before placing gentle kisses all over his cheeks, making him stir and his eyes flutter open.

A soft smile appeared on his face. “Hey beautiful.” He groaned.

“Hi baby.” I replied, kissing his forehead.

He wrapped his long, strong arms around my waist, trying to pull me back into bed, but I resisted. “Noah, baby, as much as I would love to hide in bed all day with you, we need to beat the rush and the rest of the guys.”

Noah groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

“This was your idea honey.” I laughed, shaking his shoulder gently, making him roll over and face me again.

“I know.” He sighed before climbing out of bed and dragging me into the bathroom behind him.

After we were showered, dressed and I had done my hair and makeup, it was time to go. We planned on grabbing some breakfast at the park as well as lunch, and just seeing how we felt for dinner.

The drive over there was short and we got parked relatively easily, despite our parking being far to the back of the car park.

We collected our wristbands and entered the park. Neither Noah or myself especially liked rollercoasters, but we were both determined to try at least one before our trip was over.

“Hey! Y/N! Noah!” A voice called from behind us.

Turning around, we saw Jolly towering over the rest of the crowd and waving at us. Noah sighed before waving back at him.

“I guess we aren’t getting our trip for just us two after all.” He groaned.

“Don’t worry about it. We still have our hotel room to ourselves and we can go out and have dinner just us two. It’s all going to be fine, Noah.” I comforted him, squeezing his hand affectionately.

The rest of the guys all crowded around us, shouting out different things that they wanted to do and explore. Most of the guys wanted to try the Guardians of the Galaxy ride, whilst Noah and I were more hesitant. “Maybe we should just say fuck it and try it out.” I murmured to him.

“Babe, if I’m being honest, that sounds like hell to me.” He laughed in reply.

“I think I’ll try it.” I said confidently. “How bad can it be?”

Noah laughed at that. “Sure.”

“No really. I’m going to do it.” I replied confidently. I was determined to prove to him that I could do it, no matter what.

“Fine. If you do it, I’ll buy you as many churros as you want.” He replied.

“Okay. And what do you get?” I asked

“Oh babe, there is no way in hell I’m doing that.” He laughed, pulling me into his side.

I really loved churros, but was the price I would have to pay worth it? Yes.

We decided as a group to head there first and beat the crowds. Queuing took no time at all and we sat down in our seats. Steven and Noah stayed back holding our bags, whilst the rest of us went on together.

I was sandwiched in between Matt and Jolly, gripping both their hands tightly. My heart raced inside my chest as the attendant came over and lowered the security bar, securing us in place.

“You good?” Matt asked.

I just nodded my head.

He laughed in reply. “It’ll be over before you’ve even realised it’s started.”

I nodded again. Having Matt and Jolly beside me helped calm my nerves ever so slightly.

Suddenly, the ride jolted forward and we were off. Music flooded into my ears, but I couldn’t make out what songs they were playing. All I knew was that it was cheesy 80s hits that I presumed were in the movie. The cart flew along the tracks quickly, taking the air out of my lungs. But it wasn’t fear that I was feeling. It was joy. Pure joy.

I laughed and screamed alongside the rest of the people on the ride. Who knew something like this could be so much fun?

Like Matt had said, it was over before I knew it and the ride pulled to a stop.

My legs felt like spaghetti as I stood up after dismounting the ride. I laughed and clung onto Matt as we walked back to Noah and Steven who were sat on a bench nearby eating something that looked like… a turkey leg?

“Have fun guys?” Steven called out to us. We erupted in various replies of “yes”, “holy shit” and “fuck yeah” as we rejoined them.

“Have fun babe?” Noah asked as he put an arm around my shoulder.

“Yeah, I did actually.” I replied with a wide grin. “It was way more fun than I expected.”

“That’s great babe.” He laughed.

“What the fuck are you eating?” I asked.

“Oh this?” He held up what I thought might be a turkey leg, and ripped a chunk off of it with his teeth, before chewing aggressively. “It’s turkey.” He said with his mouth still full.

I turned away from him with a grimace, making the other guys laugh.

The rest of our day was filled with countless more rides, as Noah now couldn’t keep me off of them, and stupid group photos, obviously pulling weird faces and poses. Keeping up his end of the bargain, like a true gentleman, Noah bought me as many churros as I wanted. In fact, he kept it up for the rest of our stay at Disney Land, which filled me with immense joy.

On our last day, Noah said he had a surprise for me. The guys had shared a knowing look before leaving us to it and heading back to the hotel for the night.

Noah took my hand and guided me to a quiet spot near a restaurant that was on a slight hill and gave us a brilliant view of the Sleeping Beauty castle, whilst being completely out of sight from the crowd.

“What’s going on Noah?” I asked with a laugh.

“Nothing, just wanna show you something.” He replied with a smile.

I gave him a suspicious look before returning my gaze back to the castle.

“I guess I just wanted to say that I love you, and I’m glad we did this trip.” He said after a long pause.

“I love you too.” I said, squeezing his hand. “I’m glad we did this too, even though it’s a bit out of your comfort zone.”

“You got that right.” He laughed.

“Well I do tend to-“ I started.

“Don’t you dare say you’re always right.” He laughed, shoving me playfully.

“Well, I am.” I repied.

“Shush.” He pulled me into his side.

“Why did you even suggest Disney Land?” I asked, looking up at him.

“You never got to go as a kid, and it’s pretty much right on our doorstep.” He replied.

“You remembered that?” I asked, surprised.

“Well, duh. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t.” he laughed, kissing the top of my head.

We stood there in silence as the fireworks started, I leaned back into Noah’s chest as he began to gently sway us back and forth to the music that was playing.

“I love you.” He muttered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back

“Not possible.” Noah replied softly.

He began humming along to the song, his chest vibrating behind my back as the fireworks illuminated the night sky.

So this is what having a soulmate feels like? Like living in a dream that never ends.

#madsy says shit sometimes ig?#noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfic #noah sebastian fic #one shots #noah sebastian one shots #noah sebastian fluff

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luimagines · 2 years ago

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Soulmates in the Sky

Another commission!

They asked for the similar Soulmate plot I had for Warrior but make it Sky. this includes beginning context so for the majority/ entirety of the fic, Sky is referred to as Link.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When Link was little, he always wondered what it would mean to have a soulmate. Everyone on Skyloft had one. Or at least they had the idea that they had one.

Link didn’t understand it, but he hoped he would have one. There was a time for everyone to go see their soulmate. It was a cave, they said. It was wonderful, they said. It was life changing, they said. Link couldn’t wait for his turn.

As life continued on, Link grew and studied and found his loftwing. It wasn’t long after flying lessons began that the instructor had asked the young student to listen carefully.

They would be going to Souls Cove.

Link could hardly contain the way his little heart swelled up in anticipation.

Zelda didn’t seem to care as much as he did, but he hoped they would be nice and pretty and would love to go flying with him.

“Listen up!” The instructor called them to attention. “You fly behind me and stay above the line of flight. We’re going to go around the main island and then we’ll take a right and go under the torrent. Any questions?”

Link couldn’t stop himself. He raised his hand. “How do we know if we have a soulmate once we get there?”

The instructor smiled kindly. It wasn’t a secret that soulmates were well known among Skyloftians, but the manner of which they were found was kept under tight lock. It was something no one wanted to spoil.

But today was the day they would learn, so there was little harm in explaining.

The instructor pointed in the direction in which they would travel and looked into the distance. “Once there, each of you will take turns entering the cave. You will see and hear your soulmate for the very first time- although it will only be reflections. There would be a magic stone that would connect you to them that whispers their inner thoughts towards you. You collect that and keep it safe.”

“So they’re not actually there?” Zelda tilted her head. “Why bother going then?”

“To learn who they are.”

Link raised his hand again, a small yet terrifying thought entering into his mind. “What if we don’t see anyone?”

The instructor paused, thinking over his words. “Well…most of the time it means that you already know who they are. But you can still collect the stone.”

Link calmed himself down. That’s fine then. Even better if he already met them!

“But what if there’s no stone?” Pipit asked next. He was going to skip ahead next year, Link was sure of it. So Link waited for the answer to his question. If Pipit was smart enough to skip a year, then there was surely a good point to his question. Besides, Link also wanted to know the answer.

The instructor looked nervous then. “There’s never been a case where there was no stone. So I’m afraid I can’t answer that question.”

Multiple students didn’t bother to hide their disappointment.

“Any other questions?”

Pipt raised his hand once more. “What if we don’t hear anything from the stone?”

The instructor didn’t look amused. They deadpan and point to the edge of the island. “Impossible. We’ll head out. Follow me and stay close.”

They run and leap off of the edge of the island. Link is quick to do the same.

He can hear his classmates follow soon after and he whistles

His loftwing comes up soon after, picking him up in what already is practiced momentum. Link has to keep an eye out for the professor- in order to keep their flying skills in check, they don’t tell the professors to wait for the students. The students have to catch up on their own or make their way back to the main island to be collected or redirected and start over.

Link takes to the air like a fish takes to water. This is where he belongs.

He lands next to the instructor with practiced ease tucking into a roll and stopping in a sitting position. The instructor seemed mildly amused at his entrance as he turned to expect the other students to arrive.

“Link, you go first.” The instructor gestured to the cave. “It’s only fair you’ve arrived first. Besides, I have to wait for the other students.”

Link jumps to his feet, his heart in his throat as he looks towards the entrance of the cave. Was this it? Was it truly so simple? The cave entrance itself was simple and unassuming. Yet it held the air of destiny and it’s heavy in Link’s chest.

Link nods, taking the first steps into the cave. It’s quiet and there’s the sound of dripping water somewhere beyond him.

“Why are you so pretty?” A new voice says. They sound annoyed and irritated. “Don’t you know you make it hard to think? Do you have to be this distracting?”

Link pauses. He’s not sure if he should be offended or if he should take it as a compliment. What a strange thing to be annoyed about. At least they like the way he looks.

Link walks further into the cove. He can vaguely hear the other students arriving just beyond the entrance, but the sounds of the cave seem to muffle their outcries and rough housing.

“H-hey… I didn’t mean it like that.” The voice sounds bashful now. Link looks around a stalagmite and into the crystal reflection on the wall. The reflection is not his own- but rather his soulmates. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. He’s never seen anyone like them. On one hand, he’s instantly enamored but on the other….he’s seen everyone on Skyloft. And he’s never seen them before. What does that mean?

“Link!” The instructor calls into the cave- ripping Link’s attention away from the reflection. “Not to ruin the moment….but the others have arrived. They need their turns before we have to head back. You can come back now that you know where it is, but you need to finish up.”

Link runs further in, just so he doesn’t miss anything else. Multiple iterations of reflections pass him. None of which belong to him. They’re from different moments of his soulmate's life. Each memory of his soulmate passes before him- letting him know about them before he’s ever actually met them. He sees glimpses into their childhood- up until he sees them as his age.

He stops at a pedestal of sorts. It’s a broken off stalagmite, protruding from the floor of the cave, but it’s the only one like that. The clearing around it seems purposeful. It looks significant.

There’s a smooth stone sitting in the middle of it.

Something in Link tells him to reach for it, to take it and keep it. He doesn’t fight it.

“I’ll always be on your team.” His soulmate tells him. The stone feels warm. Feeling giddy and ready to take on the world with a new purpose, Link rushes back out of the cave, not willing to risk himself getting in trouble. If the instructor was honest, then Link would certainly find himself coming back here. He doesn’t know where they are, but he can already tell that he’d do anything for them.

He can’t wait to meet them.

***

Zelda gets taken two years later.

When she had come out of Souls Cove, she had looked as neutral as she could. Link had tried to ask questions about what she saw- or didn’t see- but she didn’t seem willing to talk about it. At the time Link had thought it was strange. They were best friends. She was always willing to talk to him.

But it hadn’t ever really mattered. Link would have gone to the edge of the earth and beyond for her. And then he had to prove it.

During his journey he had learned much, seen more than he could imagine, heard more than he was willing to believe. If there was a whole new world to discover, Link was certain that you were there, waiting for him. Even if you most likely didn’t know who he was.

But it’s fine, Link tells himself. He’s young. There’s peace on earth.

He finishes his schooling and moves to the surface ready to begin the next chapter of his life. And to look for his soulmate. Surely they’re somewhere.

***

Years pass and Link finds a strange portal. It reeks of malice. He’s familiar with the smell and he’s emboldened by the energy.

Something is trying to tear apart his home once more. He’s not entirely sure if he can bring back the Master Sword- but that’s not going to stop him from protecting everyone just like he did in the past.

He tells Zelda and Groose that he’s going on a journey again. He’s not sure when he’s going to be back. Link tells them about the portal and to watch for the people he’s about to leave behind. Zelda cries and Groose promises to do his best as he is incapable of doing anything less.

He smiles and packs up his best gear, taking as much as he can before he reaches the edge of the portal. He hopes the settlement remembers to steer clear of it. Who knows what came out of it? He’s certainly going to find out.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Link remembers his soulmate and how he has yet to find them among the expanse of the surface. But he steels his nerves. If the world is destroyed, there wouldn't be any soulmate to continue finding. They probably don’t even know of the issue.

With their safety in mind, Link doesn’t have it in himself to look back.

***

Link finds a group of heroes. Interestingly, they all share the same name, so they opt for nicknames or titles. They call him Sky. This group, these boys all protect the surface time and time again because of his failure to shut up Demise in the first place. Most are younger than him. Only a select few are older. Many took the blade before they were teenagers- although Link can’t tell who did what. All he gathered was that the average age of taking up the blade is 11. But he has a suspicion that a few of the members were even younger.

It makes him sick.

Still, they have earned his trust and they all have a common goal. Fi seems to like them as well- although he’s not sure how they managed to bring the Master Sword on the journey. They let him carry her the most and for that he is grateful. It feels comforting, although he’s also learned that he perhaps is the only one to think that way.

And then, while he travels, when he least expects it. You’re thrown into the mix up.

You were running from monsters, screaming at first before you turned around grabbed a stick and started fighting back as hard as you could.

Link had to remind himself to stop staring once they were patching you up. As you explained your story, Link heard none of it. He took in your every detail, your voice, your clothes. You’ve grown just as much as he has since that first day in Souls Cove.

His fingers trace over the little stone he’s collected on that day. He’s never let it be found missing from his person. He carries it everywhere, just to hear you. But now it’s gone silent. Why would it speak? You’re right here in front of him.

You’re battered and bruised, but it appears that your ego had taken most of the blow. You seem annoyed with yourself as you get more passionate in complaining about the situation you’ve found yourself in.

Someone elbows him, hard. “Close your mouth. You’ll start drooling.”

Link wipes his chin just in case and shuts his mouth with an audible click. He turns to the young man next to him. Blond like most of them and strong hearted. They ended up calling him The Captain for his previous war experience. “I’m not drooling.”

“I know.” He says with a knowing glint in his eyes. “But we don’t need you starting. It’s a miracle they haven’t caught you yet. You suck at being subtle. Are you even trying?”

Link’s face warms. Of course he wasn’t trying. It didn’t even occur to him. “Shut up.”

“Any reason they’ve caught your attention?” The Captain asks, keeping that annoying, knowing smirk on his face. “You haven’t stopped staring since they showed up.”

Link coughs. He hasn’t disclosed to any of them about his soulmate. It didn’t take a genius to realize that they don’t have the same concept. It’s hard to reach Souls Cove directly from the surface anyway. And as much as it pains Link to realize it, he’s embarrassed to share his very common truth.

“They’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.” He admits softly.

His admission takes The Captain by surprise- his teasing mode only marginally dashed. But then it returns. “Then go say hello.”

“What!? No.” Link shuts it down. How on earth is he going to do that? Is he supposed to go up to you and say “hello, my name is Link and I’m your soulmate. I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen and I know what your favorite childhood toy is, what your dream job is and your happiest memory.” Yeah, right. You don’t know how he is. He’d ruin everything before it even starts.

“Why not? It’s easy.” The Captain begins to push him forward.

“No” Link tries to dig his feet into the ground. “No. No! Warrior!”

His yelling starts to gather some attention from the others. The one they call The Veteran raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “What are you doing to Sky? Hasn’t he been spellbound enough by them?”

“If he’s going to stare, he might as well introduce himself.” Warrior adds with no shame in his voice. “I’m just giving him the push he needs.”

“Is that so?” The Vet starts stalking towards the two of them. Sky can feel his impending doom descend upon him.

“Legend, not you too!” He begs.

It’s futile. The two of them push and borderline carry him to where you are and plop unceremoniously in front of you. His footing is weird and he leans a little closer into your personal space than he’d like to and he overcompensates by throwing himself backwards, nearly tripping over Wolfie in the process.

You see everything. Naturally.

Link coughs and rights himself as fast as he can. He makes eye contact and freezes.

You freeze too.

Your eyes widen slightly and your jaw drops just enough to make your gaze as innocent and shocked as possible. Link thinks he sees your cheeks darken but perhaps he is projecting. His face is on fire as it is. The first time he gets to see you in full color, in person, in the flesh and he makes a total idiot out of himself.

He sticks his hand out. “Hi. My name is Link…”

They stare at him just as, if not, more so intently than he was staring at them. The awkward silence stretches on. They don’t react.

Link can feel himself growing more self conscious by the second. Was this how he wanted it to go? No. Was he given much of a choice? Also no.

Thankfully after another pregnant pause they also take his hand. It hangs loosely and limply, almost like a dead fish. It’s not something that Link wants to equivocate it with- but once the idea was in his head he found that he couldn’t fully get rid of it. He shakes it anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Link says and he realizes belatedly that he has no idea where he’s going with this. Think of something. Quick! “...I don’t think I caught your name.”

You blush and it takes his breath away.

He’s never been overly fond of the color red- even if it matches his loftwing but this? This is absolutely lovely. It’s the most perfect color for you. Link can’t think of anything else that would add to just how perfect you appear in his eyes.

You say your name and Link repeats it just as softly as you say it. It’s just as lovely to hear as it is to have it roll off of his tongue. Link smiles and shakes your hand, holding it gently within his grasp. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shy away curling in on yourself. At first he thinks that you’re afraid of him or that he’s done something wrong to make you uncomfortable- which is more than well deserved, a voice tells him in the back of his head. But instead you smile.

“Link…” You say his name at last. His heart begins pounding erratically. He can feel his smile widen as his eyes brighten.

Someone coughs from behind him and he’s doused with the cold reality that you’re not alone.

“We’re all named Link to be honest.” Four adds with a grin. “But we all have nicknames. Mine is Four or the Blacksmith or Smithy. I respond to all of them. This one right here is called Sky.”

Four smacks his side with the back of his hand.

Link loses his nerve and steps aside. His eyes still follow you even though others have taken over the conversation. By the looks of it, you’re going to be traveling with them since you’ve been dragged along for the adventure.

It makes sense now that he thinks about it. If hadn’t joined this cause, this group, he would have never met you.

He’s been waiting this whole life for this opportunity. He knows that you don’t know him but he can get to know you, be your friend.

And maybe you’ll love him too someday.

#legend of zelda #lu sky #linkx reader #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #linked universe #i know they say to not tag both- but it's more like.... it's lu in foggy glasses #can literally be anytime or anywhere- nicknames travel

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1ovewoo · 2 years ago

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2am - jung wooyoung ♡

cw/tags: fem reader, fluff, mildly suggestive, use of "mommy"

notes: im just so soft for woo recently idk.. i want late night cuddles w him</3

the apartment is dark and quiet when you finally get home from a night out with your friends, not surprising since it’s past 2am and you insisted that wooyoung not stay up to wait for you and that you would call him if you needed.

you try to take your heels off as quietly as possible and drop your handbag by the door, telling yourself you’ll put it away properly in the morning. right now, all you wanted was to crawl into bed with your sweet, warm boyfriend and sleep for at least a day or two.

carefully, you push open the door to your bedroom and use your phone screen as a light source while you creep to the bathroom to remove your makeup and then slip off your dress, throwing on one of wooyoung’s tee shirts to sleep in.

finally, you crawl underneath the covers, trying not to disturb wooyoung, who’s sleeping peacefully on his stomach, but alas, it doesn’t work.

he stirs, rubbing his face in his pillow before turning in your direction, eyes still closed as he mumbles, “mm, mommy?”

“hi, baby,” you whisper sweetly, reaching up to brush wooyoung’s long hair off of his forehead and tuck it behind his ear.

his eyes finally flutter open and he smiles sleepily upon seeing your face in the barely-there light peeking through your blinds from the street lamps.

“missed you, did you have fun?” wooyoung scoots forward to wrap an arm around your waist and tuck his face into your neck, tangling his legs with yours.

“mhm, i missed you too, sweetheart. it was lots of fun, the girls were disappointed you didn’t tag along,” you respond, teasing wooyoung because he knew all your friends found him oh-so-cute and liked to tease him at every opportunity just to see him blush and giggle.

he giggles now, gently swatting at you with the hand around your waist before playfully biting at your neck.

you hum and let the hand that had been resting on wooyoung’s back slide up to cup the back of his neck, scratching at his scalp there and hearing him practically purr where his lips are attached to your neck.

you let out a little gasp when wooyoung sucks at a particularly sensitive spot before soothing his tongue over the blooming mark left behind.

gently, you tug at his hair a little to pull him off of you and look into his droopy brown eyes, saying, “it’s pretty late, baby, how about you show mommy how much you missed her when we wake up tomorrow?”

you pepper kisses all along his face from his forehead down his cheekbone and to his jaw before you capture his lips in yours, giving him a few lingering pecks before pulling away, giggling at his cute pout as he chases after you.

“hmm, okay,” he soon agrees as a yawn falls from his lips.

he settles back down cuddled against you with his head tucked back into your neck and mumbles, “love you”, and it only takes a few seconds after that for his breathing to even out and his body to fully relax against yours.

you can’t fight the fond smile tugging at your lips as you place a kiss to the top of your boyfriend’s head and wrap your arms more tightly around him, drifting off into your own much needed sleep.

ty for reading! if you enjoyed this and would like to support my works please consider reblogging or checking out my masterlist!

#jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fluff #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #♡ — dal’s works

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maemaymayo · 9 months ago

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So I just finished watching Bucchigiri?!, and I wanted to dabble in a bit of Matakara fluff because he’s too cute 💙

Also I’m new to writing small Fics, so please be nice! Any helpful advice would be great! :)

Matakara Asamine x fem!reader

Matakara and you are walking around town after school one day, and one clumsy slip leads to a heated moment between the two of you.

————————————————————————

Matakara has been walking you home from school everyday for almost three weeks now.

He has to have a crush on you right? No guy would just start walking a girl home everyday! But it’s Matakara maybe he’s just being nice? Ever since you both were kids he was the sweetest!

He only started walking you home because some random thugs tried to hit on you one evening and just couldn’t take “No!” for an answer. Luckily Matakara was nearby. He saw the altercation and swept in like a knight in shining armor. He was so sweet, and his voice was so soft talking to you.

Ever since then your heart pounded in your chest and your face held a permanent blush when you saw him waiting in front of the school for you.

“Y/n! Hey!” Matakara is smiling and waving his large arm in the air so you notice him. It’s hard to not notice the guy.

Komao and Zabu are there too talking with their best friend. You wonder what they’re talking about because Matakara looks a bit flushed maybe even a little panicky? His friends are laughing and Zabu gives him a pat on the shoulder.

“Hi Matakara, Zabu, Komao! How are you doing?” You say smiling at the trio.

“We’re good, just needed to ask Matakara something before he walks you home today.” Zabu said with a lopsided smile looking at Matakara.

“Oh, well if there’s a meeting you all need to get to for Minato Kai I don’t mind walking home alone today. I’ll be just fine!” You say looking at Matakara with a smile. Trying to hide the disappointment if he can’t walk with you today.

“No!” Matakara said a little too loudly.

“I mean…sorry! There aren’t any meetings today the guys just had a small thing they needed to ask me! I can still walk with you!” Matakara puts his hand behind his head rubbing it looking a little flustered.

Zabu and Komao face the other way and it sounds like they start giggling with each other.

“Why don’t we head out Y/n? I’m sure these two giggling geese have something better to do.”

You chuckle a little bit, “Sounds good!”

As you both turn to walk away you hear Komao yell “Good luck Asamine!” The both of you immediately look back to them, but they are running the opposite direction from two of you.

You look up to Matakara “Good luck with what?”Wondering what that was about.

His eyebrow is twitching and his ears look a little pink.

“Nothing, they’re just being a little silly today.” He says avoiding eye contact with you.

Mmmm interesting.

Time passes as Matakara and you walk through the neighborhood. You really try to slow your walking a bit so you can have more time with him, but to no avail. Maybe you two can stop by the park or something so you can still have time to hang out with him?

“Y/n? Y/n?” Matakara is looking at you like he asked a question? Maybe?

“I’m sorry! I got lost in my head for minute there didn’t I? What were you saying?” A little embarrassing that you totally spaced out on your crush.

Way to go y/n, very smooth of you.

“I asked if you were feeling okay? You seem to be a little quiet today?” Matakara asks with concern written all over his face.

Shit!

“I’m okay really! Well…I m-mean. There is something I’ve been thinking about, but don’t worry please!” You say trying hard to not stutter but only mildly failing.

“Ah well, I won’t push you if you don’t want to talk about it. But, if it gets to be too much for you you can always talk to me.” He says with a smile so bright it could blind you.

Should I just come out and say it? I mean it couldn’t hurt right? Just a simple question.

Do you have feelings for me? Because I have feelings for you.

Oh god your heart is pounding and you can see the stairs leading down to the park near your house! I have to do it now when I have the courage!

Closer to the stairs now.

Wait I have to do it now! Now! Come on say something!

—

Matakara watches you and it looks like you’re having an argument with yourself in your own head.

You look so cute.

With your eyebrows scrunched tightly and your pink lips pursed, a blush on your cheeks. He can stare at you forever it feels like.

He’s always had a crush on you since grade school, but could never have the courage to go up and talk to you. Whenever the other kids started making fun of him in school for wanting to be a Honki person, you were always there standing up for him. Telling the kids to back off or you’ll beat them up. Then you and your family moved away and his world grew a little more dim. He still had his big brother though and he was happy.

Then all of sudden he saw you on the first day of high school as first-years. And wow he remembered you being pretty, but with age you became absolutely beautiful. You were in a different class and he never had a good moment to say hi, so he had to wait.

Unfortunately it had to be after he beat up some thugs for harassing you, so maybe not the best way to reconnect with your childhood crush. But he saved you and that’s what matters the most. He decided to walk you home everyday incase those guys were around or they brought more friends, but it was mostly an excuse to be able to see you.

It was amazing getting to talk to you and learn more about you as a person. That’s when he started to fall even harder for you.

After realizing his feelings he confided in Zabu and Komao. They would not stop pestering him with questions of you and when he was gonna tell you how he felt, or ask you on a date.

He definitely shouldn’t have told them he was gonna ask you out today! Since they saw him that morning it was constant giggling, and they were counting down the hours and minutes until the final bell rang.

All of a sudden you take a few steps ahead of him and quickly turn on your heel to face him.

—

What you both didn’t realize was that you got little too close to the first step leading down the stairs and as you turned your foot was right at the edge. You lost balance and felt your body going backwards.

Oh…no…

You close your eyes and hope the impact won’t hurt too bad. It feels like your heart stopped beating and everything is going in slow motion.

“Y/n!” A hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you forward with so much strength it feels like your arm will rip out of the socket.

Your body is pulled back up into a solid mass with an “Omph” your face is then buried into cloth and warmth. Your eyes are still closed, your right hand is layed flat against something hard. Yet your left hand is being held by Matakara.

He saved you, again.

Wow am I really making this a habit now?

He places his other hand on your back holding you close.

“Y/n are you okay?!” You feel his body pressed up against yours, you can smell him (he smells so good), and you can hear his heart beating so fast matching yours.

“…yes.” As you look up at him and lock eyes.

He has the most beautiful blue eyes you have ever seen, deep and blue like the ocean on a sunny day. You can get lost at sea looking in them and never want to come back.

His face is so close… I want to get closer. I want more…

You slowly tiptoe to reach his lips.

He leans down ever so slowly.

Your lips are only centimeters away. It feels like you both stopped breathing.

Almost there…I can almost feel his lips……

“AAAAAHHHHHH!”

The two of you jump a foot apart awkwardly.

That was the most ear piercing scream you both have ever heard in your lives erupts from right behind the two of you at the park! Some little kids are running around playing.

The moment is ruined!

“Y/n I’m sorry! Ishouldn’thavedonethat! Wait! Um…what I mean is I’m not sorry for saving you from almost falling I-I’m sorry for after grabbing you!” Matakara is bowing low, eyes closed, face looking to the ground.

You giggle softly.

He looks up at you very fast giving him whiplash.

“Matakara please relax? It’s okay, no need to apologize.” You look at him with the softest smile only reserved for him.

He straightens up and looks down to the ground.

“Asamine, will you go on a date with me?”

He looks at you so fast, it makes your head spin. He doesn’t say a word for a solid minute at least!

You walk up to him “Hellooo…?” He finally blinks and grabs your hands.

“Yes!” With the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face and a cute blush across his cheeks and ears.

“You beat me to it though! I was going to ask you out on a date too!” He says moving back and rubbing the back of his head shyly (cute).

You look at him and wonder what his plan was? Hmmm you can ask him later!

“Meet me here tomorrow at 11am, okay?” You tell him eyes shining brightly.

“Yes! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Matakara says full of excitement.

And a smile so big it hurts his cheeks for the rest of the evening.

#bucchigiri?!#matakara asamine #golden retriver boyfriend #i can’t stop thinking about this now #hes so cute #matakara gives the best hugs #Matakara x reader

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karmavongrim · 2 years ago

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Poor Guide to Parenthood fanfic idea

DP x DC crossover fanfic idea which I decided to call "Poor Guide to Parenthood".

Danny and Jazz are distantly related to Oswald Cobblepot, otherwise known as Penguin. In their most desperate hour they go to him seeking sanctuary. Well, who’s he to say no to free PR, even if he didn’t read the memo of accepting the role of a caring father.

Was reading The Family Business and this Tumblr post and was inspired. You can find this on my Deviantart as well.

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Jazz really deserved this vacation in Danny’s humble opinion. She’s done so much for him and this was the least he and uncle Os could do; an all-payed luxury spa weekend with the girls which included Harley, Ivy and Selina.

What could go wrong? Apparently a lot, nothing related to the girls but to the boys. Who knew that sending away the only person keeping a hyperactive teen with zero self-control on a leash and leaving said boy to the sole care of their mildly diabolical and eccentric adoptive father was a bad idea.

A good chunk of their mansion was missing with some of it’s iced over remnants embedded to the ground around the plot. Danny looked like he’d gotten to a fight with a fridge and Oswald wasn’t looking any better either. A distance away some of the goons could be seen dragging their half frozen brethren away from the site, he’ll have to apologize to them later. It was a miracle that none of the police or even the bats were there to question them about this mess. Really, all their were trying to do was to create a new ice machine for the Iceberg Lounge with the help of his ice core that wouldn’t run out of ice as fast nor would it melt as quickly, it would safe quite a bit of money and time too.

Now, Danny was intelligent but whatever he was smart was another question entirely. He knows how to make a fully operational hoverboard equipped with weapons any day of the week, but drop some cold hard common sense in front of him and it’d be like alien language to him. In summary: an intelligent man knows how to built a bomb, a wise man knows not to go and poke at it. And that wise man was be Jazz who was absent. Danny knew exactly what to do in this scenario.

“We’re not going to tell Jazz about this.”

Oswald, who has been quietly contemplating about his life choices for a while now finally opened his mouth “…We can pin this on Mr. Freeze.” Danny nodded sagely, clad to see they were on the same page on this one. Neither of them wanted to face the disappointed rage of the red head.

“All right, let’s start planting ‘evidence’ before the girls come back and she’ll never know a thing!” Danny said as he clapped his hands, only to stop when they both heard a very distinctive voice they both didn’t want to hear at that moment.

“You so sure about that dear little brother?” Since the jig was up both Danny and Oswald turned around to face the music. Behind very disapproving Jazz stood Harley, Ivy and Selina with various degrees of amusement. She gave the boys a hard glare “Want to try that again?”

The two glanced at each other for something before Danny nervously started “Ummm… How was your weekend ladies?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #oswald cobblepot #jazz fenton #batman penguin #harley quinn #poison ivy #selina kyle #catwoman #poor guide to parenthood fanfic

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mystwrites · 1 year ago

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Flustered

Summary: Douma attempt to fluster Kokushibo but Upper Moon One decides to have a little fun and turn the tables on him

A/N: Day 7 of Tickletober! Thank you anon for suggesting this pairing! Enjoy the fic plus some lazy art I decided to add!

Kokushibo sighed, knowing what was going to happen now that Douma came skipping into the room he had tried to hide in. The said demon slid on the floor like a penguin and rested his chin on his hands, his feet kicking behind him as he smiled at Kokushibo. Certainly he want there to annoy him to death…was he?

“What do you want?” Kokushibo asked, looking at Upper Moon Two. “You look like you wanna babble away.”

“Koku dono…has anyone ever told you that you have really nice skin?” Douma asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Do you have a skincare routine?”

“Uhhh…no?” Kokushibo replied, confused as to what Douma was trying to get at. “I don’t have a skincare routine. I just wash my face whenever I feel the need to…”

“And your hair! What’s the secret to your hair being so long and beautiful???” Douma continued, grinning mischievously.

A soft “ahhh” escaped Kokushibo, now realizing what Douma was doing. He was trying to fluster him. He had this ongoing bet with Gyokko that he could fluster all of the demons in the Twelve Kizuki. Kokushibo was mildly aware of this since he would occasionally have a conversation with Gyutaro about the gossip he would hear thanks to his sister talking with the other demons. Apparently Douma has managed to fluster all of the upper ranks except for the reigning superior of them.

“Are you trying to fluster me, Douma?” Kokushibo asked, amusement laced in his tone. “I hate to inform you but you’re not going to fluster me. It’s been years since I’ve been flustered.”

He was caught and the disappointment appeared on Douma’s face. Not wanting to deal with Douma whining like a bratty child, Kokushibo decided to have a little fun with him. He reached out and ran his fingers through Douma’s hair, the blonde suddenly squeaking in shock.

“K-Kokushibo dono!!” he gasped, his cheeks suddenly flushing to a light shade of pink.

“Why are you asking me for my hair and skin routine? Your hair is very soft! Rather silky!” he complimented, trying not to smirk as Douma’s cheeks grew more pink.

“M-my hair r-routine…?” Douma asked, suddenly nervous and stuttering over his words. “I-I uhhhh…hehehe…I use a lot of conditioner when I wash my hair???”

“And your skin is so clear and smooth.” Kokushibo continued, Douma suddenly squawking like a seagull and hiding his face. “I should be asking you for your routines.”

“Ooohh!! Suddenly I regret this…” he moaned, fanning himself. “Is it hot in here?? I’m getting hot and I’m sweating! I mean…of course it’s hot in here…you’re hot but THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!”

Terribly amused by how easy it was to fluster Douma, Kokushibo laughed and shook his head, Douma covering his face and letting out an embarrased squawking sound.

“Wow, I didn’t realize I could fluster you so easily.” he chuckled, using two fingers to poke Douma’s sides. “Hey, come now, don’t hide your face!”

Douma jumped, a soft giggle escaping him as the pokes continued. It wasn’t a well kept secret that Douma was very ticklish and enjoyed a good tickle from time to time. Smirking, Kokushibo playfully tickled up Douma’s sides, sending the rainbow eyed demon crashing to the floor. If Kokushibo didn’t have quick reflexes, he would’ve easily let Douma’s head hit the floor, but he caught Douma just in time, setting him onto the floor gently before launching a tickle attack on him.

Squealing upon feeling hands touch him, Douma rolled onto his side and curled up, laughing as Kokushibo easily pulled his right arm up and over his head, using his other hand to tickle up and down his side. Douma tried to hide his armpit with his free hand, squealing and laughing as Kokushibo easily wormed past the hand defending his ticklish spot and send Douma into a fit of laughter, his feet weakly kicking out whenever the center of his armpit was drilled into.

Flipping him onto his other side, Kokushibo repeated the actions, raising Douma’s arm up, tickling up and down his sides before targeting his exposed armpit despite the other hand trying to stop him. Douma was now laughing hysterically, his snorts and squeals with no pleas to stop only encouraging Kokushibo to continue, the understanding that unlike the others who claimed this was torturous, Douma enjoyed it.

Knowing Douma had a particularly sensitive spot around his waist, Kokushibo tickled down his sides when he rolled onto his back and squeezed just above where his hips were, Douma’s loud laughter filling the room.

“K-Kohohokushihibo d-dono!! Ahahaa!!” Douma cried, arching his back when two thumbs rubbed circles into his flanks. “Thahat tihihickles!!”

“I can tell.” Kokushibo scoffed, only tickling Douma more relentlessly. “Jeez, imagine if someone used tickling on you in a Blood Battle! Akaza could defeat you and take your position as Upper Moon Two!”

Douma blushed and squawked. He was definitely bothered by the comment and shook his head defiantly, now denying that Kokushibo was wrong and that he could still take Akaza down in a tickle fight. However, he was proven wrong when Kokushibo grabbed his right foot and tickled.

“OKAHAHAY!! IHIHI LIED!! AHAHAA!!” Douma screeched, trying to pull away as Kokushibo tickled the arch of his foot. “KOHOKUSHIBO DOHOHONO!! AHAHAHA!! NOOHOHO!!”

“No what?”

“NOHOHOT MY FEET!! NOT MY FEEHEHEET PLEHEHEASE!! IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!!”

Holding Douma’s right foot, Kokushibo tickled ever so gently, Douma weakly attempting to kick away. His free foot kicked about, occasionally hitting Kokushibo in the thigh or shoulder. Kokushibo easily got Douma’s sock off, Douma now emitting his deep belly laugh.

“Huh. I thought your hips were your worst spot. I think it might be your feet.” Kokushibo chuckled, pressing into Douma’s hip, a screech escaping before going back to his foot, the belly laugh coming back the moment his fingers touched his arch. “Yep, it’s definitely your feet. Other foot!”

Douma pleaded and protested but ultimately, his pleas went ignored, Kokushibo chalking the lack of fighting up to him just having a blast. Grabbing Douma’s left foot, Kokushibo didn’t wait and easily pulled off his tabi sock, skittering his fingers up and down Douma’s foot. Douma’s belly laugh fell silent for a few seconds, his squeaky giggles being the only noise audible for a few seconds until his laughter came back at full force, Kokushibo finding that the arch of his feet were sensitive.

“P-PLEHEHEASE!! PLEHEHEASE KOHOHOKUSHIBO DONOHOHO!!” Douma squealed, cackling loudly as his toes were the main focus.

“Please what?” Kokushibo asked, smirking as Douma’s cheeks continued to flush.

“DOHON’T!!”

“Don’t what??”

“TIHIHICKLE MY FEEHEHEET!!”

“Tickle your feet?” Kokushibo asked, now unable to hide his grin as Douma’s cheeks turned bright red. “Alright, you asked for it. Let’s start at your heel and make our way up to your toes…”

“IHIHI’M TOO FLUHUHUSTERED FOR THIHIS!!” Douma wailed, his toes curling as Kokushibo tickled up his foot, focusing on the arch of his foot. “IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!!”

“You can’t admit that you like being tickled or you can’t escape?” Kokushibo prompted, shaking his head with a grin when Douma didn’t answer and just rolled around on the floor.

Deciding to continue, Kokushibo chuckled as he traipsed his fingers up, finding the sensitive spot just below Douma’s toes. He then scratched up and down Douma’s foot, bringing out the loudest yet cutest peals of laughter. Suddenly, Kokushibo let out a yelp as Douma’s free leg flailed, getting kicked in the shoulder. Now in need of more drastic measures, Kokushibo pulled Douma closer and sat on his waist, deciding to give his feet a break and tickled at his sides, bringing out more giggles.

Pulling Douma’s arms up, Kokushibo chuckled and pinned his arms down with his right hand while the left tickled his armpits. Now squirming and kicking, Douma’s shirt became untucked and rose up slightly. Looking down, Kokushibo eyed out the pale patch of skin, smirking as Douma’s bellybutton became visible.

Sliding his hands up the demon’s shirt, Kokushibo brought out louder fits of belly laughter, Douma shaking his head from side to side. Kokushibo gently traced each outline of Douma’s abdominal muscles, discovering that even the slightest of touches could now send the demon screaming and cackling. Swirling his finger around Douma’s bellybutton, Kokushibo chuckling as his hand was instantly shoved away.

“NOOHOHO!! AHAHAHA!! IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!!” Douma squealed, his feet scrambling for purchase as Kokushibo’s fingers found a sensitive spot at the top of his ribs.

“Aww…are you too ticklish?” Kokushibo laughed as Douma nodded. “Too bad!”

Douma screamed as Kokushibo dug into his ribs, each space being tweaked with precision. His laughter raised in pitch as the dancing fingers skittered all over his torso, squeezing at his belly before jumping up to his armpits and flying back down to his hips, Douma’s most sensitive spot.

“S-STOHOHOP!!” Douma howled, arching his back as his hips were targeted. “KOHOHOKUSHIBO!! AHAHA STOHOHOP!! PLEHEHEASE!!”

“Okay, okay, relax.” Kokushibo chuckled, pausing the tickles. “I’ll only stop on one condition, you admit that you are cute when you are tickled and that you enjoy it.”

A look of mischief and defiance showed on Douma’s face. His cheeks burning a bright red, showing how flustered he was anytime Kokushibo called him cute and called him out for having fun being tickled but not willing to admit it out loud.

“Well??” Kokushibo said, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “Do you agree that you’re cute and that you enjoy being tickled?”

The same flustered squawking noise escaped from Douma as he shook his head, his hands hiding his cheeks. The tips of his ears were now the same color as his cheeks, the blush traveling down his neck. With no verbal response, Kokushibo shook his head with mock disappointment and grabbed Douma’s hips, the blonde screaming bloody murder as he got well and truly tickled.

He was a stubborn one. Douma refused to say what needed to be said in order for this ordeal to cease. Chuckling, Kokushibo decided that the best course of action was to just keep tickling his weak spots until he gave in. Hands jumped all over, one on his hip while the other went up to his armpit. Laughter continued until Douma screamed and fell silent, squeaks and hiccups being the only sound audible to Kokushibo.

After five minutes, Kokushibo’s fingers connected with Douma’s hips once more before he grabbed Douma’s feet, causing loud screams and pleas for mercy. For all of Douma’s cockiness, this was what finally broke him and Kokushibo grinned in victory as a single stroke to the underside of his toes caused the demon to scream, fall silent and shake his head.

“OKAHAHAY!! OKAHAHAY!!” Douma burst out suddenly. “IHIHI’M CUHUHUTE AND IHIHI EHEHENJOY BEHEHEING TICKLED!!”

“Do you believe that?” Kokushibo teased, wanting to fluster Douma a little more before stopping.

“OH COHOHOME OHOHON!!” Douma wailed, sitting up and grabbing Kokushibo, squeezing him tightly while playfully slapping his biceps. “I SAHAHAID WHAHAT YOU WAHAHANTED!! PLEHEHEASE STOP!! AAIIYYEEEHEHEHEHEE!!”

As Douma fell over, Kokushibo tickled his armpits once more before deciding to stop, laughing as Douma immediately curled up on himself and tried to press the soles of his feet against the floor. Kokushibo always took pride in knowing he could control his subordinates but with Douma, he found that it was just fun and hilarious to fluster him.

“One more thing!” Kokushibo chuckled, leaning down and lifting up Douma’s shirt.

“Nonono…NOOHO!!”

PPBBBFFFFFTT!!!

Douma screamed, arching his back as Kokushibo blew a raspberry onto his stomach, squirming wildly as Kokushibo shook his head from side to side. Unable to laugh audibly, Douma fell silent, the occasional squeaks and hiccups escaping before his laughter returned upon a final raspberry being placed against his left hip.

“Alright, I think you’ve had enough tickles.” Kokushibo said, patting Douma’s tummy before pulling his shirt back down.

When Douma made eye contact, Kokushibo noticed this happiness in his eyes. He looked into those rainbow eyes and Douma opened his mouth to speak.

“Y-you didn’t actually have to stop…” he whispered, obviously flustered to say what he wanted to. “I didn’t mean it…”

Without any other words being exchanged, Kokushibo’s hands shot to Douma’s sides, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of the blonde’s flanks. There was a loud scream before Douma’s hysterical yet adorable belly laugh overtook him and he curled up, Kokushibo’s fingers working their magic.

#tickletober 2023 #augtickletober2023 #demon slayer tickling #lee!douma #ler!kokushibo #tickle fic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo #douma #kokudouma

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basu-shokikita · 1 year ago

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Kloktober 2023 Day 27

Old fears or new understandings

I decided to do both, one from Toki's perspective and the other from Skwisgaar's! Takes place during the time when Knubbler is training the band in Army of the Doomstar ✌️

It was fairly simple. Skwisgaar had asked him to play the rhythmic part of this new guitar section he had composed. That was it. That was all.

At the beginning it had been easy, but after the first verse, Toki started getting the chords wrong, the times wrong. The more he tried to catch up, the more he missed the beats, missed his cue. He got even more nervous upon seeing the disdain on Skwisgaar’s face. That familiar crease on his eyebrows and purse of his lips, the nose wrinkle and his eyes hardening.

By the time it was over, Toki couldn’t dare to meet Skwisgaar’s stare, looking down instead. He knew he had disappointed him, and he didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to. His insides sank at the idea of upsetting Skwisgaar, of letting him down. His body tensed at the idea of Skwisgaar scolding him and telling him he wasn’t enough, he never had. But he especially was not now that he had partially forgotten how to play guitar.

Silently, Skwisgaar let go of his guitar, hanging loose from his shoulder, and walked to Toki. Almost instantly, Toki started trembling, knowing what was coming. Stupid Toki, why did he go and forget everything that Skwisgaar had taught him? Why’d he have to go and impair the one thing linking him to Skwisgaar? Why couldn’t his brain preserve what was precious to him? Why did he have to ruin everything?!

With the corner of his eye, he saw Skwisgaar inhaled and he shut his eyes as if that would help him. His heart was pounding so hard inside his chest that he was afraid Skwisgaar would hear it. He tried to prepare for the barrage of insults and humiliating remarks that were going to be thrown his way. Because he deserved them. He deserved them all. Skwisgaar was going through the trouble of writing both of their parts and he couldn’t even manage to play his right. It was so easy, it was supposed to be easy. Yet he couldn’t even do that. He was so fucking useless.

Toki felt Skwisgaar’s hand on his shoulder and he flinched in fear, one sentence forming in his mind.

Please don’t kick me out of the band.

“Let’s go from de tops.” Skwisgaar said and there was no anger in his voice, somehow.

Thrown off, Toki opened his eyes to find an equally confused Skwisgaar standing in front of him.

“Ams you goingks to picks up the guitars or…”

Toki stared at him, stared at his face, mildly disgruntled but not quite angry. He stared at Skwisgaar’s hands, already in position to play again. He stared at his pose, standing tall and impatient though not intimidating. And he didn’t understand. “You amsn’t going to yells at me?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Skwisgaar was surprised by the question, his eyes widening before his brows furrowed. He averted his gaze, looking to the side, then down, his mouth opening slightly before closing again. Eventually, he raised his eyes in a weird, almost forced smirk. “Why? You wants me to?”

“No!” Toki replied a bit too fast. “It’s just dat…” He trailed off. “I fuckeds it all up…” Sadly, he stared at his hands. “Wif my stupid hands and fats fingers…”

“Don’ts…gets stucks on dats.” Skwisgaar said, like it was costing him greatly to pronounce each word. “And your hands ams fines.” He sat down on an amplifier case.

“Reallies?” Toki brought his hands closer to his face, inspecting them. They seemed so bloated and dumb-looking compared to Skwisgaar’s elegant hands. He had chubby fingers with uneven nails and Skwisgaar’s were thin and veiny, his nails perfectly trimmed. Resigned, he dropped his hands.

“It was your foirst times playingks it, too…” Skwisgaar continued, playing with his guitar strings mindlessly. As if he had caught himself talking too much, he cleared his throat. “Just forgets about it.”

Toki felt like he should stop pushing, Skwisgaar seemed to be compassionate today for whatever reason and he shouldn’t test him. And yet, the anxiety was looming inside him with the inevitability of a sunset. “So, you amsnt mads at me?”

Skwisgaar frowned at the floor, then closed his eyes. “Noes.”

Toki bit with lower lip, not quite convinced. “And you amsnt going to kicks me from de bands?”

“Whats?” Skwisgaar opened his eyes at once and glared at Toki. “What ams you talking abouts, Toki?!”

“I don’t knows!” Toki said, his hand gripping the fabric of his pants apprehensively. “If you ams mads just says so.” He was too nervous to meet Skwisgaar’s eyes. “Just lets me has it.”

“Well, its not like I cans open auditions for a news rhythms guitarists when the worlds ams ending, cans I?” Skwisgaar said, standing up.

Toki looked down instinctively and imagined Skwisgaar’s shadow hovering over him, engulfing him. There it was.

Instead, however, there was silence.

“I don’ts wants another rhythms guitarists.” Skwisgaar said, hoarsely, prompting Toki to return his gaze to him in surprise. “I wants you…” He grimaced, as if appalled by his own words. “Okays?”

At this point, if Skwisgaar grew another head, Toki wouldn’t be shocked. “Okays…” He nodded, trying to decipher if he was dreaming.

“So let’s go overs your parts.” Skwisgaar waited for Toki’s hands to be in position. “Follows my lead.”

They started playing the section again, Skwisgaar did it first to show Toki how it was done. Then they played the rhythm part together, stopping anytime Toki made a mistake to give him tips and making him repeat it until he got it right.

Toki could tell that Skwisgaar hadn’t switched personalities from night to day, he could still see the thinly-veiled irritation when Toki made the same mistake more than twice, he noticed the way Skwisgaar pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling softly before continuing. He recognized the blinks of exasperation when Toki forgot how a chord was played.

Still, though. He didn’t yell at Toki, he didn’t berate him. Skwisgaar was making an active effort to teach him, just teach him. And even though Toki couldn’t fully relax until it was over, he actually enjoyed it. He enjoyed being taught by Skwisgaar and seeing the way he nodded whenever he got it right. The tiny smirk in his face when Toki actually managed to play what Skwisgaar for him. It reminded him of the old days, when Skwisgaar was encouraging and nice to him.

After rehearsal, Skwisgaar awkwardly put down his guitar and pretended to fixate on his feet for a moment. “Eugh…”

Tilting his head, Toki gazed at him with curiosity.

“...Goods job.” Skwisgaar said before walking away.

Toki could not remember the last time Skwisgaar said those words to him. And he also did not remember them feeling so good. “Thank yous!” He yelled at Skwisgaar’s back and glanced at his guitar with awe.

Maybe the end of the world could bring good things too.

#kloktober2023 #kloktober #metalocalypse #toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf

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knowltonsrangers · 1 year ago

Text

chagrin

TURN!George Washington x reader

Distraction.

You had no idea how long you were sat in the tub, long enough that your legs had started to succumb to a chill from the lukewarm water, head tilted back along the white tile as the ceiling seemed more interesting than anything else.

It was a distraction that worked for a minuscule amount of time.

However, the sound of the front door opening, the soft clunking of the keys hitting the counter, and finally, the way he calls your name softly, melts away your sad thoughts for just a passing moment. You then hear him approach your shared room, and you know that you left the initial door ajar. The creak signifies that he’s pushing it open, and crossing the room to reach the on suite bathroom.

"y/n?"

He knows you’re in there, the door closed and the light flooding out the bottom. George knocks twice and says your name again.

“Hello, y/n,”

“Hi.”

You answer back. Mustering up the willpower to speak without your voice cracking under the onslaught of tears, you manage to push the syllable out without your own voice betraying you.

“How long have you been in there?”

The door muffles it, but it's clear as day, regardless. “What time is it?” There it is, the buildup that eventually overflows as you basically snitch on yourself.

“Sounds like it’s time to get out, just a suggestion.”

He sounds so worried, so engaged in what you were doing, and why you were doing it-that in any attempt to make him fret less, you slowly stand from the tub and grab a towel. Then, you hear Washington move from the bathroom to the bedroom. He’s sliding drawers open, and then he’s back at the bathroom door.

“I’m coming in, alright?”

Still in his button up and slacks from work, he stands in the doorway with an expression on his face you haven’t seen before. It’s something mixed with disquiet, the way his brow furrows and his hands grip the small pile of clothes in his hands.

“You could have called.” Whispered, arm now outstretched to offer up the change of clothes. You nod in agreement though you hesitate to answer, he then turns around and leaves the bathroom, heading for his dresser. So you change, smiling at the thoughtfulness behind his unspoken action. He knew which clothes you practically lived in, and pulled them strategically as if it could help you feel better.

It did.

“Rough day?”

"Mhm? I just like baths."

When you emerge from the bathroom, hands hidden by long sleeves as you sheepishly walk over to the man, his arms lifting into a motion that needs no explanation.

“You and I both know that you only take them when you need a distraction,"

You harumph, mildly annoyed that he saw through your facade so easily, though if he hadn’t, you would have spilled your sorrows just following the truth.

“Sorry I didn’t call. Or answer you when you called.”

Mumbling into his chest, your cheek smushes and your arms wind a bit tighter around his waist.

“I wasn’t looking for any apologies,”

He replies, voice just above a whisper as a hand comes to run along the length of your spine. It’s completely comforting, rooting you to your very spot on the ground.

“I know you weren’t. But I still think you deserve one.”

“If you insist.”

The last thing that Washington wanted to do was pester you further, so if it meant to end the current conversation there, at least for a moment, so be it.

"Is there something you wish to do-?" "I got another rejection letter."

It drops from you lips full of tiredness and disappointment, and while maybe one or two or three would still have your spirits high, the fifth, sixth, the seventh-they were really starting to crush your enthusiuam.

"Another?"

He asks, clear confusion in his voice. You pale, realizing you hadn't quite caught the man up in just how many you've received.

"I didn't want to share, you seemed so tired lately."

"My ability to keep my eyes open when they should be closed is rather impressive, y/n. There's no need to be quiet when you want to talk about something."

George pauses, his hand halting just at the small of your back.

"Especially if it's causing you to be unwell."

"Not...unwell. Just confused. I needed a distraction."

Your shoulders scrunch in his hold, as if you were admitting something absolutely criminal. Something akin to a breath of relief releases from above you, but as hard as he may try to mask that tone of amusement, it bleeds through steadily.

"Alright, alright. You were right,"

Pulling away, you cross the room to your desk, yanking the drawer open to reveal a heavy stack of white envelopes, all sickeningly sweet, yet full of rejection.

Easily, he joins you once more, scooping the letters in one hand and tossing them into the bin beside the furniture, a gasp falling from you lips at the abrupt action.

"What was that for?"

"There's no need to keep them. They hold no significant value to you." Though true, it doesn't make it any easier. That nagging feeling returns, and you're only free of it when a large hand runs gently through your hair.

"All you can do is keep trying, and I know you can do it. You can't become discouraged, the world hasn't ended because of those letters." You hum, watching them carefully reside in the waste paper basket.

"It'll all come in good time, y/n."

He watches you carefully, attempting to catch your gaze, but it sits unmoving, analyzing your options as if there were many.

"Thanks."

The consistent dismissals, though discouraging, were just a singular line. That line ended, so you needed to start a new one.

"Think you'll be alright?" You release a breathe you didn't know you were holding, and hastily tear your eyes away from the bin, meeting his own grey-blue eyes excitedly.

"Yeah. I really do think so."

#sul writes #turn amc #turn washington's spies #george washington #turn: washington's spies #amc turn #turn headcanons #turn washingtons spies #george washington x reader #turn george washington #george washington imagine #george washington headcanons

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hockeyboysimagines · 2 years ago

Text

The girl with the broken smile

Chapter 2

Warnings: angst, some language, lots of crying and mentions of cheating/STD’s.

I’m having too much fun writing for him. Hope you enjoy. Keep a lookout for some updates in the coming days!!

I’m sorry but he’s so funny🤣🤣🤣

“What a sap.” Travis mumbled as he watched Nolan leave the room to take a phone call from Sawyer.

“Oh leave him alone.” Nash said from her spot on the recliner “I think it’s kind of sweet.”

“If by sweet you mean pathetic. He’s practically drowning in his own drool and she’s not even here yet. Can you imagine what he’s gonna be like in a few weeks.”

“They’re just friends Trav.”

“Yeah.” He scoffed using his fingers to air quote “Just friends my ass.”

“Are we talking about Nolan or your ass.”

“Nolan is an ass. But that’s besides the point. If he likes her why doesn’t he just say so.” As Travis said it he realized how dumb he sounded to himself. Here he was, sitting at his kitchen island preaching about being honest when it came to feelings, while he himself harbored elephant sized feelings for his own best friend who was seated 10 feet away.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged “Maybe he’s afraid she doesn’t feel the same or something. A lot of people don’t say how they feel for that reason.”

“Well that’s just dumb. Why would she reject him?”

“Maybe she thinks they’re really “just friends” Nash said also air quoting. Before Travis could answer Nolan stepped back inside, cheeks pink and turned to them.

“Sorry that was-“

“Oh we know. That virginal blush all over your cheeks tells us it was “Just your friend.” Travis said, adding an air quote. Nolan scowled and glanced at Nash.

“How is “Just your friend” Sawyer?” Nash asked, air quoting also.

“She’s fine and this whole air quotes thing is starting to “piss me off.” He said raising his hands to quote himself. But he was smiling.

“When’s she coming anyways?” Travis asked reaching for the orange juice.

“3 weeks.”

“And how many teammates did you beat up and tell to stay away from her?” Nash asked.

“I haven’t beaten anyone up….”

“But you did tell every to stay away from her?”

Nolan opened his mouth to speak and then slowly closed it looking at his feet.

Travis was snickering and shaking his head “Your such a nerd Pat.”

Nolan waved him off and left a little while later, leaving Nash alone with Travis.

It had been just over 2 weeks since she’d become his new roommate and he had thus far shot down any mention of her getting her own place. He’d come up with every excuse in the book, and even went so far as to buy a fuck ton of plants, insisting she needed to continue to live there to water them. He suspected she was on to him, but it was so nice having her back he didn’t want to chance letting her go again.

Her company and everything that came with it made his apartment feel warm and fuzzy, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since she got there. She was at every game, and it just felt so good to have her around again, and the best part was that Justin had left her alone.

She’d gotten into the house to get the last few items she’d left there, and other than him telling her to come get her mail as it came, he hadn’t even attempted to get in contact with her.

Though it was for the best, Travis could tell that it hurt her. He hadn’t begged, pleaded, promised to change. He didn’t put up a fight to keep her or win her back. In fact, he’d let her go so easily it was almost like he’d never been a part of her life at all.

Sometimes late at night Travis could hear her crying, but he never asked her about it because if she wanted him to know she would come to him. He spent most of those nights lying awake, thinking about that night they’d slept in the same bed.

He really would have risked it if she’d asked him to. He thought for just a moment that maybe she would try to kiss him, and was mildly disappointed when she didn’t, but in the end he was actually glad now that it didn’t happen. While he wanted nothing more than for her to like him that way, he wanted it to be when she was clear headed and she wanted it to happen as much as he did. Not when she was heartbroken about some dumbass who never appreciated how amazing she was.

He had vowed to her, himself and anyone who would listen long enough, that he would never EVER let that happen again. He had stood idly by because he didn’t want to make a wave, and terrible things had happened. But that wouldn’t happen again.

She was lying on her side across the loveseat with her arm propped under her head. Her eyes were closed, and there was a comfortable silence for a few minutes until she spoke.

“Hey Trav?” She glanced up at him through her lashes and smiled a little “Thanks for everything.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me you know.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t make it through all this without you.”

He felt a few butterflies fluttering around and he smiled “You know I’m always here for you. No matter what happens.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me. Really. It’s good to know that I didn’t completely alienate you after all this time.”

“Never. I just figured you were happy and I didn’t want to ruin that. But that was wrong of me and I should have done more.”

She pursed her lips but shook her head “Nah. I wouldn’t have ever admitted there might have been a problem. My head was so far up my own ass I can’t even believe I was so dumb.”

“Your not dumb.”

“I was though. Now that I’m clearheaded I can see how dumb I was. That wasn’t love, that was manipulation at its finest.”

“Its okay Nash. I’m just glad your back.” He smiled broadly at her, and for a small moment she felt a sensation in her stomach she never had before.

One of the first things she’d noticed about Travis was his smile. It was wide, genuine and lit up his whole face every time she saw it. It never occurred to her that his smile was always extra wide, extra bright, and extra genuine when it was aimed at her. But the more time she spent with him and around her forgotten friend group, the more she noticed the little things.

He hung on her every word. He always listened to what she was talking about like he was trying to memorize everything she was saying and imprint it into his brain. He was never far from her, always within arms length. She had always chalked it up to their closeness, and now it seemed like Travis was constantly shielding her from the world, which she figured had something to do with Justin.

He’d held her hand every step of the way through her round of antibiotics, the tears, and her eventual emergence back into her old life. She felt good, better than she had in a really long time. She had missed her friends more than she realized, and was so thankful for everything they’d done to help her since she moved out.

Libby, Joel, Carter, Kevin and Nolan in particular had been there for all of it, and she would never be able to repay them for their strength and kindness they’d showed her at what she was sure would be the lowest point in her life.

“I have practice early.” Travis said offhandedly, jarring her from her thoughts “So I’ll be gone most of the morning. I figured maybe you’d want to meet up with Libby so Beezer said she would text you about it.”

Nash had noticed that since her split with Justin, Travis never left her alone for a long time. When he wasn’t around, he made sure someone else was. While Nash loved and appreciated him for it, she also didn’t want him to feel obligated to have her being constantly babysat.

“Sure. But you know I’d be okay here alone right?”

“Nash you’ve been alone for too long. You need people around you who love you. And Libby loves you….maybe even more than she loves Beezer. And that’s a fuck ton of love.”

Nash cracked a smile and laughed “I guess your right. Okay, lunch it is.”

**********

“So do you-“

“No.”

Libby threw the straw wrapper at her and made a face “I didn’t even ask my question yet.” They were seated in a small restaurant, just the two of them. It was mostly empty, allowing them to speak freely and without filters.

“I already know what your going to say and the answer is no.”

Libby stared at her from across the table until it made her uncomfortable and she looked up “Okay fine. What’s your question?”

“Is something happening between you and Travis?”

“No. Why would there be?”

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking. I mean you guys are living together now, and it just seems like you two have gotten really close.”

“We’ve always been really close.”

“No.” Libby smiled and shook her head “Not like this. Do you share a bed?”

Nash felt her face get red, which was something that didn’t happen very often “No. I use the spare room for your information.”

“But you have shared a bed before?” She questioned, eyes flicking up to meet hers as she sipped at her water.

“No-well yeah I mean-once.”

“And nothing happened?”

“No it was the night-the night I found out about the Chlamydia. No funny business.”

“So that’s the only reason it didn’t happen then. Got it.”

“What are you-“

“Travis told Joel that that’s why he was chasing Justin through the house shirtless when we got there. Because Justin walked in on you guys in bed together.”

Nash pursed her lips “Well yeah but we were just sleeping. Justin took it out of context.”

“But you didn’t correct him.” Libby said slyly over her menu, eyes narrowing as a smile crept across her face “So maybe nothing happened, but that doesn’t mean you don’t wish it did.”

“I don’t honestly. I love Travis but that would really change things between us, and I just got him back and I’m too afraid to even think about that. Travis came over because I didn’t know what to do when I got the test result.”

“You know none of this is your fault right? And I hope you aren’t blaming yourself. There is literally nothing you or anyone can do to stop a guy from cheating.” Libby had an apologetic look on her face from across the table. Next to Travis and Carter, she was her closest friend during this process of untangling her life from Justin’s. While the others were supportive and there for her whenever she needed, conversations about Chlamydia weren’t ones she wanted to have with the guys. Not even Carter.

“I know. But I feel like I should have seen it coming, and I’m a little embarrassed.”

“I get what you mean but you shouldn’t be. To be honest, none of us really liked him to begin with, but we put up with him because we love you. Now that he’s gone, things feel normal again.”

“Agreed. It used to make me so sad, I felt like I missed out on so much while my head was shoved up my own ass.”

“Don’t say that. He’s a manipulator Nash, and that’s what they do.”

Nash smiled “Your pretty smart Lib. Did you know that?”

“Of course I am. I’ve been doing two sets of homework since the 8th grade, I better be smart.”she smiled a little and stirred the ice in her drink “So you really don’t think there could ever be anything between you and him?”

“I guess I can’t say never, because anything could happen but I don’t think he sees me that way. I mean we’re best friends, and changing that would be crazy right?”

Libby smiled and leaned back in her chair “I think I’m the wrong person to ask that. I don’t think it’s crazy at all. Who would take better care of you then Travis? Besides me of course, but sadly I’m not available. Though Joel has been pissing me off lately so I -“

“Shutup.” Nash said laughing.

Libby smiled “It’s so good to see you so happy again.” She reached across the table and squeezed her hand “And about Travis, don’t count him out. He might surprise you.”

***********

“So when are you making your move buddy.” Kevin asked as they packed up their gear to go home.

“What move?”

He knew what he meant of course, but to acknowledge it in front of Kevin meant that he was thinking of making a move. He was sure the guys knew how he felt about Nash, so he wasn’t embarrassed but he also wasn’t admitting it out loud. They were dumb, but they weren’t that dumb. Sometimes Travis wondered how they could see it but Nash couldn’t.

“Come on.” Joel said rolling his eyes “You guys are playing house now. Nothing is going on between you?”

“No it’s not.”

“Why? Because she seems to be pretty happy without Justin. This is your chance to slide into his place.”

“Nothing’s happening.” Travis said simply with a shrug “I only just got her back. I’m not ready to scare her away again.”

Nolan glanced at him and then cleared his throat “Leave him alone guys. He’s in a tough spot.”

“You would know.” Joel said giggling as he stood and stretched.

“Yeah you would too.” Carter said as he stuffed his clothes in his bag.

“I do know.” Joel said “Which is why I’m telling him that he should come clean to her. Do you know how long I could have been with Libby if I hadn’t pulled a Travis or a Nolan? Years bro. Years.”

Nolan glared at him “What? Leave me out of this.”

“Oh please.” Joel rolled his eyes, and chucked a ball of tape at him “Don’t even start. A girl is literally uprooting her life to come and move here to be closer to you and she’s just your friend?”

“Yes.”

“Ha. If that’s your story.” Joel said with a scoff. Nolan and Travis looked at each other, speechless before Joel spoke again “All I’m saying is take it from a guy who knows. If you keep waiting, someone is gonna take your spot.” He turned and left, leaving Travis with Nolan and Carter. It was quiet for a minute before Nolan announced he was leaving, two spots of pink high on his cheeks. Carter was staring at Travis as Nolan left through the locker room doors.

“What do you-what do you think?” He finally asked Carter. If there was anyone who was as close or maybe even closer to Nash besides Libby, it was Carter. They’d become almost instant friends, and he knew for a fact she confided in Carter about things she didn’t tell him. Carter pursed his lips and looked at the wall opposite them.

“Well. I guess it doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what she thinks. I know you like her, and I would be willing to bet she feels the same deep down, but-“ he thought for a second before he continued “What Justin did to her is going to take a while to heal from. He really messed her up.”

“I know. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I didn’t know either. I know things weren’t healthy, but she never told me the extent of it.” Travis sighed and then frowned “Don’t blame yourself. There’s nothing we could have done.” Carter said shaking his head.

“I know I just-if I had-never mind.”

Carter smiled a little “This is a tough conversation for me. I don’t know anything about love, but I think you should just take it slow with her ya know? If you feel that way about her that is. She’s been through a lot.”

“I know. And that’s why I’m just happy being her friend for now I guess.”

“And what happens if it’s only “For now” forever?” Carter asked, leaning forward a little “What then?”

“I don’t-I don’t really know. Hopefully we never get there yeah?”

**********

Nash thought about what Libby said for the rest of the day. She had been so infatuated with Justin that she’d never even thought about Travis that way. Now that Justin wasn’t clouding her mind, she realized that Travis had always been kinder and more attentive than he had ever been.

He was there for her no matter what, even when she wasn’t always there for him. The number of times she’d been made to cancel plans, or ignore texts, or even blow him off when they did have plans hurt her to even think about. While he didn’t blame her, she blamed herself.

She’d been a terrible best friend, and she would spend the rest of her life feeling bad about it, and trying to make it up to him, and while it was easy to blame it all on Justin, it was her fault too. He had been controlling, but she’d allowed him to do it and it was wrong. Travis was in her life before him, and though she’d refused to give him up Justin still cut him out as much as he could.

But that was over now.

She watched him as he moved across the room, talking about practice and how annoying Nolan was being about Sawyer. She was listening to him, but her mind was elsewhere.

“So anyways.” He said sitting down opposite her with a huff “What do you wanna do today? I was thinking maybe we go out for dinner, if you want to that is?”

She didn’t, but his hopeful smile was slowly changing her mind.

“Sure.” She said sitting up and stretching “I need some time to get ready and change though.”

She left the room, changed, fixed her hair and then followed him out the door, and together they drove to the place Travis had picked.

“I’m starving.” He complained “All that drooling Nolan’s been doing made me lose my appetite earlier.”

Nash giggled and moved around him to walk through the door as he held it open for her. When they were seated she folded her hands in front of her.

“So I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should get my own place soonish.”

He looked crestfallen, menu out in front of him “Wh-why?”

“No reason really, I just feel bad taking up space in your apartment.”

“You’re not taking up any space.”

“I am though. An entire room of space, and what about your privacy? When you go out with the guys don’t you ever wanna bring girls home?”

“No.” He said simply, eyes still holding hers.

“Why?”

He pursed his lips “Because I just don’t. We only just started to hang out again, I’m going to take advantage of spending this time with you.”

She smiled a little and sighed “I don’t want to leave, I just feel bad inconveniencing your life.”

“You could never be an inconvenience and you know it. Stay a while. I’m fine with it.”

The waitress came to ask their order, and flirted shamelessly with Travis. Nash looked a little offended when she left.

“That was bold.”

“What was?”

“The waitress. I mean I was right here and she was basically trying to get you to bang her on the table.”

“Was she? I didn’t even notice. I’m spending time with my best friend. That’s what’s important.”

Nash frowned but didn’t say anything more as they fell into easy conversation. But the more she thought about it, and started paying attention the more she realized that since she met him, she’d never seen Travis show any romantic interest in a girl. In fact she’d never seen him show any interest in a girl ever. He was always polite and friendly, but never flirtatious. Now whatever happened when he went home to Ontario she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t really wanna know, but while he was in Philly he was celibate. To her knowledge anyway.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have options. She saw the way girls looked at him, batting their eyelashes and smiling like lunatics. But he never took the bait. Not even once.

“So are you looking forward to meeting Nolan’s girlfriend?” He asked as they ate.

“Yeah I think it’ll be good for him. But I don’t think she’s his girlfriend.”

“Not yet you mean. They’ll be here without parental supervision, which means pants off dance off.”

“Stop it.” She said biting back a laugh “Nolan doesn’t dance you know that. As far as the pants part, idk does he even know what a girl is?”

Travis’s smile faltered just a minute and he shook his head “No, I mean I don’t think he’s been with anyone since he’s been here. But that’s his business.”

She frowned “So has he been? Not that it matters, because he’s single but I would be very surprised if he was.”

“Uh. I don’t really know. He loves Sawyer, and he would never wanna hurt her. He is single, and I’m sure if he has hooked up with anyone he would regret it.”

He wouldn’t be telling her of course about what he knew. What Nolan did in Philly was Nolan’s business, but he had sworn Travis to secrecy about it. While Nolan was single, Travis knew that all Sawyer would have to do was ask and he would be with her in a second. The idea that some dumb girl he’d hooked up with, might jeopardize his relationship with a girl he was clearly in love with sent Nolan into a panic. Travis had assured him that he would take it to the grave, because he sympathized with him. He knew what it felt like to walk on glass for a girl you loved.

“Anyways I-“

But Nash’s expression made him stop speaking. He knew that look. He turned slowly and saw Justin standing in the doorway of the restaurant with a girl, presumably the one he’d cheated with or one of them. Travis could feel rage as Justin spotted them, and a large smug smile spread across his face.

Nash’s face was white as a ghost, eyes unfocused and brimming with tears. Justin nodded his head at her and looped his arms around the girls shoulders.

“That’s it.” Travis growled “I’m taking that mother fucker out-“

“No!” Nash said reaching across the table to grab his arm “Stop, let’s just leave okay?”

Travis was breathing hard through his nose as the waitress brought their check and he stood up sharply, chair screeching across the floor. In order to leave they had to pass Justin and Nash thought for a second she might vomit. He looked up as they passed before he said one simple word.

“Slut.”

Travis nearly knocked her over in his haste to lunge at him, grabbing a fistful of Justin’s shirt before yanking him out of the chair. The girl looked alarmed as she too stood up. Nash quickly grabbed Travis’s arm, panicked remembering that even Kevin couldn’t hold Travis back, and there would be no way she could.

“Travis. Travis.” She said hurriedly, pulling on his arm as he ragdolled Justin a few times. The few other patrons had turned at the commotion and some even came over to help, but when he turned to look at her, he let out a breath and released Justin, shoving him away.

“You aren’t worth it. Stay the fuck away from her.” He said pointing at him.

Nash tossed money at the girl behind the counter not staying to get the change as she followed Travis outside and into the car. His arms were shaking and he didn’t say a word the whole ride home, and when they entered the apartment they went to their respective rooms without talking.

After a while Nash laid down and closed her eyes, tears sliding across her nose and down on to her bed spread. The city lights were throwing shadows across her bedroom as she laid there crying. Some nights she drifted off to sleep easy, and others she seemed to lay awake for hours. On those nights she could usually be found sobbing until she couldn’t anymore.

She put on a brave face for her friends, and it was almost good enough to fool them. She sniffled a little holding in a particularly brutal sob, so to not alert Travis, who’s room was right across the hall. She didn’t hear any noises coming from it, so she assumed he was either sleeping or didn’t want to be bothered. A loud breath came out of her mouth and she gave a big shudder.

It was hard to feel both heartbroken and relieved and to feel guilty about both of those emotions. She might not have been so sad if Justin had made more of an effort to get her back. While she would never be with him again, it made her wonder if she had always just been a toy to him. As if being cheated on wasn’t painful enough, not being fought for was crushing. He acted like she’d never even existed, like she was so insignificant to him that he could just throw her away like that.

It hurt.

It felt like a knife was cutting into her chest the more she thought about it, slicing away and making her bleed. It was hard to breathe, as she sobbed again, gripping the blanket. She wanted nothing more than to scream and cry but she couldn’t get the noise out.

“Nash?”

She sat up a little and found Travis, standing in her doorway.

“Oh Nash.” He was across the room and had her in his arms before she could even register he was in there.

She lost it.

Big fat tears rolled down her face as her sobs came full force. Travis sighed from somewhere above her and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve any of this.” He said quietly, hand moving up and down her back “This is so wrong.”

She couldn’t formulate words, just sobs in response as he continued to rub her back and whisper words of encouragement until she started to calm down.

She lifted her head up and met his eye, realizing how close his face was to hers. He lifted a hand up to let it rest on her cheek, eyes moving over his face.

“Nash I-“

A horn blared outside startling her, and she leaned back wiping under her eyes, but he stayed in his spot.

“Sorry Trav. I just lost it for a second there. Thanks.” She chuckled a little as she stood, folding her arms across her chest.

He was staring at the floor and nodded slowly “Sure.”

He stood and walked towards the door, turning to look at her one last time before he closed it behind him.

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zizzlekwum · 2 years ago

Text

Stranger In A Not-So-Strange Land

Masterlist

CHAPTER FOUR

Morgan is arrested for murder in Chicago while you're on crutches and recovering from the trauma of being buried alive. Follows the events of Criminal Minds Season 2 Episode 12 “Profiler, Profiled.”

Trigger Warnings: referenced racism; mentions of child sexual abuse

Word Count: 5,274

Tag List: @leftoverenvy @itsmeanobody @ctrljuls @theclassicgaycousin [if you want to be added to the tag list, please comment or send me an ask]

NOTE: Sorry for the late upload, I have not been having a good week. I hope you enjoy!

After about a week, you’re cleared to return to work, though you’re relegated to desk duty for the time being. You’re disappointed, but find you can’t really argue, given that you’re still on crutches. On your first day back, Garcia greets you with a bouquet of flowers, and Reid decides to treat you, JJ, and Garcia to a little Science Magic.

“Will you ever let us watch?” you ask, facing away from his desk as he prepares his experiment.

“A magician never reveals his tricks,” he says. “You guys can turn around now.”

You and JJ turn around to see an empty roll of film on his desk. You can hear something fizzing slightly.

“Nothing’s happening,” JJ says hesitantly after a minute.

“Shh! Watch!” Reid says excitedly, holding up a finger. You smile.

After another second, the cylinder explodes into the air, causing JJ and Garcia to shriek. Your eyes follow it as it flies through the air… right into Prentiss’ forehead, where she’s walking into the bullpen.

“Ooh!” she exclaims, rubbing her forehead. “Ah, what—?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Emily,” Reid says as you, JJ, and Garcia giggle.

“What even was that?” she asks, looking around.

Garcia laughs. “Don’t you recognize a rocket when you see one?”

“I-I was merely demonstrating a physics law,” Reid explains. “I-I-I didn’t meant to hit—”

“Oh! Show me!” Prentiss hurries over and stands next to you.

Reid sits up straighter, grabbing another empty film container. “All right. Uh… well, turn around, please.”

“Turn around?” Prentiss says.

You laugh. “Yeah, he doesn’t let you watch.”

“A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets,” Reid says, echoing what he told you not two minutes ago.

Emily frowns but turns around. “I thought you said it was physics.”

“Physics… magic,” Reid tells her.

“Trust me,” Garcia says, putting a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “It will not do you any good to argue with him.�� The four of you listen to the sound of Reid shuffling things around behind you until he allows you to turn around again.

“All right, all right,” he says. “Turn back and observe.”

You excitedly watch as the film container fizzles until it pops upward. JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss exclaim as it flies through the air. It lands at Hotch’s feet. He bends down slowly and picks it up, staring at you.

Uh oh.

You bite back a smile as Prentiss hurriedly walks away from Reid as JJ and Garcia turn around, acting busy. You simply lean on your crutches, waiting to see what Hotch does.

“Physics magic?” Hotch asks.

Reid gives him a sheepish grin. “Yes, sir.”

Hotch frowns, walking over to Reid’s desk. “Reid, we talked about this.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Reid says.

Hotch places the film container down in front of Reid. He pauses. “Really starting to get some distance on those,” he notes, turning away and walking to his office.

Prentiss comes back over to you, watching Hotch. “So he does have a sense of humor?” she says. You snort.

“Sometimes,” Reid tells her.

“Hey, where’s Morgan?” she asks, looking around the bullpen.

“In Chicago,” Reid tells her. “He goes there every year for his mother’s birthday.”

Prentiss nods as you return to your desk, leaning your crutches next to it as you sit down in your chair. Prentiss follows you.

“Hey, how’s the leg?” she asks.

You shrug. “Mildly painful. Nothing a little ibuprofen can’t handle.”

“That’s good. Everyone’s been worried about you.”

“I’ve just been home watching TV and reading,” you tell her, smiling.

“Prentiss, Reid, JJ, Y/L/N, grab your bags,” Hotch calls, stepping out of his office. “Jet leaves in thirty.”

“Whoa, what’s the rush?” you ask, standing up. “We don’t even have a case.”

Hotch walks down the stairs and comes over to you. “Morgan’s been arrested,” he says quietly.

“What?” Prentiss says in disbelief. “Why?”

“Homicide,” Hotch says. “We’re going to Chicago.”

* * * * *

The two hours of the plane ride are filled with tension. You fidget in your seat the entire time. No one says much, all of you worried about Morgan. Hotch doesn’t know much other than the fact that Morgan’s been arrested, so he has nothing else to tell you, adding to the stress of the rest of the team. When you arrive at the precinct, Hotch wastes no time.

“Special Agent Hotchner, FBI,” he introduces himself to an officer at their desk. “I’m looking for Detective….” Hotch unfolds a piece of paper in his hand. “…Gordinski.”

Another officer at a desk behind the one Hotch is talking to stands up and walks over. “I got this, Chuck,” he says to the other officer before looking at your team. “How you guys doing? Wally Dennison, CPD.”

“Where’s Agent Morgan?” Hotch asks immediately.

“Detective Gordinski’s in with the suspect now,” Detective Dennison says. You and JJ share a look when he refers to Morgan as a ‘suspect.’

“I need to see him,” Hotch says.

“When my partner’s finished talking to him, sure.”

“I have your superintendent’s personal cell number,” Hotch says, not playing any games, “and in the interest of not running roughshod over another police agency, I’ve resisted calling him so far. I need to see Agent Morgan now.”

Detective Dennison plasters a smile on his face, but you notice the stiffness of his jaw, betraying his annoyance. “I’ll get Gordinski. He’s the, uh, primary.” He turns and walks down a hallway, turning the corner out of your sight.

“I don’t like them calling him a suspect,” Gideon says once Dennison is out of earshot.

Hotch gives a slight shake of his head. “Me neither.” You begin rubbing your hands together nervously.

“You’re stimming,” Reid says to you quietly.

“I’m anxious,” you tell him in response as Dennison comes back around the corner with another man you can only assume is the detective Hotch asked for.

“Detective Gordinski, CPD,” the new man says, coming up to Hotch and holding out his hand, which Hotch shakes.

“You think an FBI Agent, a BAU profiler, committed a homicide?” Hotch says.

“Actually, three homicides, at least,” Gordinski says, shocking you all. “Over fifteen years.”

“You-you think he’s a serial killer?” JJ asks incredulously.

“This is ridiculous!” Reid exclaims.

“I agree,” you add. “Morgan would never do that!”

“Has he been charged with anything?” Hotch asks.

Gordinski shakes his head. “I got 72 hours for that.”

“I’d like to see him,” Hotch says.

“Be my guest,” Gordinski says, moving aside.

“This way,” Dennison says, leading Hotch down the hallway and around the corner.

Gordinski turns to Gideon. “Agent Gideon, right?” He holds out his hand.

“Yes,” Gideon confirms, shaking his hand.

“I owe you a big thank you,” Gordinski says, walking over to another desk. “I had no suspects at all until you looked over my case for me, and sent me this profile.” He holds up a folder, walking back over to where you and the team stand. “Everything in it points to that son of a bitch, Derek Morgan.”

You grit your teeth at the name calling and share a look of shock with Prentiss as Gideon takes the offered folder, beginning to leaf through the pages inside. “I profiled him?” he asks quietly to no one in particular.

Gordinski nods. “It’s all right there.”

Reid takes a step forward. “Detective, a-a profile’s just a guide.”

“Yeah, this one guided me to him.”

“They’re really more useful in the elimination of suspects rather than the inclusion,” Emily argues.

“That’s not the way you presented it to me,” Gordinski says to Gideon.

Gideon shakes his head. “Well, if I confused you, I’m sorry.”

Gordinski chuckles. “I’m not confused at all.”

“Look,” Gideon tries again. “Whatever it is in here that made you consider Agent Morgan a suspect has to be coincidence. You can’t rely solely on this.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Gordinski says. He walks over to another desk and grabs a slip of paper. “Fifteen years ago, I was a new detective. One of my first cases was a Black kid. Twelve or thirteen years old, found strangled in a vacant lot near here.”

“Boy was a John Doe, right?” Gideon asks.

Gordinski nods. “Still unidentified to this day.”

“Wait, a twelve-year-old kid that no one reported missing?” Prentiss says.

“Ever,” Gordinski confirms. “Four years ago, another body turns up, same MO. Worked that case just as hard, came up with just as much nothing. Nobody in the area had ever seen the kid before.”

“And no one’s looking for these kids?” JJ asks as you fiddle with the dog tags around your neck that you never take off.

Gordinski doesn’t stop to respond, never looking away from Gideon. “Then a few months back, I attended a seminar that you taught at CPD Headquarters. I told you about my case, you said to send you the files and you’d look ‘em over. This is the profile you worked up. There are about three million people in Chicago. Your profile said I was looking for a Black male, 25 to 35, with a knowledge of the area. Nonthreatening to children— either knows them or is normal enough that he doesn’t scare them. A probable criminal record. It also said that the way the body was placed gently on a mattress, not just tossed on the ground, indicated someone who was probably consumed with guilt. Especially for the first victim.”

Gordinski opens the file in his hand. “Your exact words are, ‘with a guild-ridden offender, the BAU postulates the first victim is the most important and the unsub may still visit the place of the crime or even the victim himself.’ Care to guess who visits my first victim every time he’s in town?”

“Can’t be just visiting the victim,” Gideon says, shaking his head. “There has to be more than that.”

Gordinski nods. “Sure. You said the unsub might try to inject himself into the investigation to keep tabs on it. Morgan has called our headquarters many times since he joined the Bureau. Always about this case.”

“So wait, he talked to you about it?” Reid asks.

“Headquarters,” Gordinski tells him, chuckling, though you fail to see what could possibly be amusing about any of this. “He’d never call me. After I got your profile, I checked airline records. Turns out Derek had just left Chicago when the other body turned up.”

“All of this is totally circumstantial,” you argue.

Gordinski waves you all over into a conference room, where a bulletin board is set up with pictures of a crime scene. “Then yesterday another kid ends up dead and the last person he was with was Derek Morgan. In the boy’s pocket we found one of his FBI business cards, his cell number written on the back of it. In fact, every time Morgan’s in town, he hangs out with kids.”

“This is all just coincidence!” JJ echoes your earlier sentiment.

“A hell of a lot of coincidences,” Gordinski says.

“As Y/L/N just said, it’s purely circumstantial,” Prentiss points out, glancing at you.

“So’s a fingerprint,” Gordinski says. “Did I mention that Morgan found the body in 1991? Hidden way back in a vacant lot? Now don’t you teach that when a body is hard to find, the person finding it is always a suspect?”

“There are key pieces of the profile that don’t fit, Detective,” Reid says. “Uh, the age, 25 to 35, Morgan was fifteen or so at the time.”

“Also says that age is the hardest to predict, and I should never exclude someone simply because of a discrepancy with the age,” Gordinski argues.

“Okay, but what about the theory that since he hadn’t managed to leave any evidence at the scene of the crime, that he probably has a criminal record or some kinds of previous law enforcement knowledge?” you point out.

Reid nods. “Derek wasn’t even in the Bureau yet when the first body was found.”

“He may not have had a knowledge of law enforcement, but Derek Morgan definitely had a criminal record.”

The team shares a look as Gordinski walks out of the room without elaborating on the bombshell he just dropped.

“Morgan has a criminal record?” Reid repeats, frowning.

“We’re dealing with a desperate detective here,” Gideon says quietly. “Three dead boys, no evidence at all. So he applies the profile directly to someone he already suspected. It’s easy to get tunnel vision that way.”

“One begins to twist facts to suit theories instead of theories to suit facts,” Reid says.

“Oh, I know that one!” you exclaim. “Uh, Sherlock Holmes, right?” Reid nods.

“We need to figure out who really killed these boys before they decide to charge Morgan,” Gideon tells you all.

“What do you want us to do?” Prentiss asks.

“Last victim was someone Morgan was seen with,” Gideon reminds you. “Conveniently, Morgan was already a suspect in the other two.”

“You think someone set him up?” you ask.

“We should consider Morgan a victim. Prentiss, take Y/L/N and Reid to talk to his family, learn about him— especially around the time of the first murder.”

“Do we have the address?” she asks.

“I can take you,” Detective Dennison offers, walking over.

Prentiss turns to face him. “Oh, that’s okay.”

“No,” Gideon says. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

Prentiss pauses, looking to Gideon. “Right,” she says with a nod, turning back to Dennison. “Okie-doke, lead the way, Detective.” She shares a skeptical glance with you as you and Reid follow them out of the bullpen to the door.

* * * * *

Morgan’s sister answers the door when you knock, letting you all in and introducing herself as Sarah. His mother and his other sister, Desiree, are seated around the small table in the kitchen, looking through a cardboard box labeled ‘Derek’s room.’

“Would any of you like a piece of cake?” Sarah offers.

“Oh, um, yes please,” Reid says.

“I would love one,” you tell her with a smile. She nods and walks to the fridge while Reid begins to look through the box on the table, gingerly moving a trophy aside with a frown on his face.

“Is, uh, Derek all right?” Sarah asks, handing you a fork and a plate with a piece of cake on it. You thank her quietly, balancing your crutches under your arms as you take it.

“He wouldn’t let us go down there,” Morgan’s mom tells you.

“He’s fine,” Emily tries to assure them.

“Our boss is with him now, trying to sort this all out,” you add, taking a bite of the cake. “Mm, this is great! The cake, I mean.”

“Did he tell you Gordinski’s been harassing him since he was a kid?” Sarah asks.

“Why’s that?” Reid inquires, taking a bite of his cake.

She shoots a glare at Dennison. “Well you’d have to ask that bastard yourself.”

“Oh, Sarah!” Morgan’s mother scolds.

“It’s true, Mom,” Desiree assures her.

“Sure it is,” Detective Dennison scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“What are you even doing in my mother’s house?” Sarah throws her hands up in the air in exasperation.

“They asked me,” Dennison tells her roughly.

“Not really,” Reid says through a mouth full of cake.

“Nope,” you agree, popping the ‘p.’

“I don’t understand how they could think he did this,” Morgan’s mother says.

You swallow another bite of cake. “Neither do we,” you assure her.

“Someone may be trying to make it look like he hurt those kids,” Emily says carefully.

“And the police believe it?” Sarah asks, incredulous.

Dennison shrugs, unphased. “Just following the evidence.”

“But he’s an FBI agent,” Desiree says.

“Actually, law enforcement officials are just as probable statistically to commit a crime as anyone else,” Reid tells her. “Look at the cross-section of society. There’s a general population and a small faction of this percentage—”

Prentiss interrupts him. “He’s not actually saying we believe Derek’s involved in this,” she says, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down.

Reid’s eyebrows shoot upwards, only now realizing what he had accidentally been implying. “Oh, no, no, yeah, not at all!” he backtracks quickly. “I’m merely, um… speaking theoretically.”

Desiree chuckles. “You’re Dr. Reid, right?” Reid nods.

“Derek talks about you,” Sarah tells him, nodding.

Reid smiles. “He does?”

“Anyway,” Prentiss says, steering the conversation back on track, “so, someone may be trying to make it look like this was Derek.”

“But Derek loves kids.” Morgan’s mother shakes her head. “Every time he’s here, he goes to the youth center.”

“Youth center?” you repeat curiously.

“The Upward Youth Center,” his mom explains.

“Does that have some kind of significance for him?” Reid asks. Morgan’s mom smiles.

“What, are you saying there’s something in it for him?” Sarah says, folding her arms across her chest. “Other than giving back to the poor kids of your neighborhood?”

“Sarah!” Morgan’s mom chides.

“No, not at all!” you assure her. “Look, we’re your brother’s friends. All we’re doing here is trying to help.”

Prentiss nods. “When we ask a question it isn’t to denigrate or demean anything he’s done. We just have to know everything so we can figure out where to look next.” She smiles. “Is there some special significance to the youth center?”

Morgan’s mom smiles. “The youth center saved his life. My husband, their father,” she gestures at her daughters, “was killed when he tried to stop a robbery. Derek was with him, he was ten. A year or so later, he started getting into trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” you ask, setting your now-empty plate down on the table.

“He started running around with older kids,” she explains. “They would give him money to run errands for them. Um, not drugs,” she adds quickly. “No, Derek would never disgrace his father’s name.”

“But they were gangbangers,” Sarah adds. “So people started looking at Derek like he was one of them.”

“One night, he and a friend were attacked by some boys from another gang,” Morgan’s mom continues. “Big fight. And one of the other boy’s head split open.”

“And that was the first time Gordinski arrested him,” Sarah tells you. “Now, he wasn’t a detective yet, just a street cop, but from that night on, no matter what happened in the neighborhood, he’d pick Derek up for it.”

Dennison sighs. “Probably because he was involved.”

“The hell he was!” Sarah retorts as you turn to glare at him.

“Stan’s never arrested anyone who didn’t need arresting,” Dennison argues.

“He did,” Sarah insists. “With Derek.”

“Until Carl Buford stepped in,” Morgan’s mom continues, grabbing Sarah’s hand.

“Who’s that?” you ask.

“He runs a youth center,” Dennison tells you. You fight the urge to snap back that you weren’t talking to him, biting your tongue instead.

“He took Derek under his wing. Um, mentored him,” Morgan’s mother explains. “Became like a surrogate father. He taught him football, and that changed Derek’s life. He got a scholarship to college— with it, he got his degree.”

Emily nods. “Where is Carl Buford now?”

“He still runs the youth center,” Dennison says, and again, you grit your teeth.

“I’d like to talk to him,” Prentiss tells him, standing. “Detective, do you think you could take me over there?”

“Wait, just you?” Reid asks.

She nods. “Yeah. I thought maybe you and Y/N could stay here and keep going through this stuff.” The corners of your mouth twitch upwards— it’s the first time she’s used your first name, and you can’t deny that you like the way it sounds when she says it.

“Good idea,” Reid replies as you try to get control of your crush, which you’ve so far been able to keep under wraps. “Yeah, keep going through the stuff.”

“We’ll swing by to pick you guys up after we’re done,” Emily tells the two of you as Sarah gets up to walk Prentiss and Detective Dennison to the door. Reid sits down in Emily’s now-vacant chair. You adjust your leg, wincing at the movement. You fumble with your crutches, trying to pull one of the chairs out from the table until Reid steps in and does it for you. “Thanks,” you tell him, sitting down with a smile.

“Is it all right if I ask how you hurt your leg?” Desiree asks as Sarah returns.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You nod, giving her a smile. “I, uh, I was hit by a car and then kidnapped and buried alive by a serial killer.” It only occurs to you how blunt you’re being when all three of the women in front of you gasp, Morgan’s mother bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “Everything turned out fine, though!” you add quickly. “My team came through in the end and there was no permanent damage to my leg, so it’s no big deal.”

“We know Derek’s job is dangerous, of course, but….” His mother trails off.

“Oh, I wasn’t working with Mor- erm, Derek at the time,” you assure her, trying to ease her nerves. “I also work with another FBI agent and a team of scientists out of the Jeffersonian Institute, it was one of their cases.”

“Can you tell us a little bit more about Derek?” Reid asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, of course,” his mother says, smiling. “What would you like to know?”

“What was he like in high school?” you ask.

“Well, he had a rough time as a freshman,” Morgan’s mom tells you with a frown. “Came home nearly every day with a new injury. A black eye or a split lip or something else. But sophomore year on he was liked by almost everyone. When he was fifteen, he went door to door around the neighborhood to collect enough money to bury a young boy that was found dead.”

“Did he know the boy?” Reid asks.

Sarah shakes her head. “No, but he found the body.”

“That made him feel a little responsible for him, you know?” Morgan’s mom smiles.

“He’s a good man,” you tell her.

She nods. “After college, he worked for the CPD before working in the bomb squad unit.”

“That’s right, I remember reading that in his file,” Reid notes.

“That’s about it,” Morgan’s mom concludes. “There isn’t really much else to tell that you don’t already know, I’m sure.”

“How about you, Dr. Reid?” Desiree asks. “How were you in high school?”

“Well, I was twelve,” Reid says. “I, uh, didn’t really have any friends because they were all older than me.”

“I was pretty much a loner, too,” you add. “I had a couple friends, but that was about it. Never really bothered me, though.”

The conversation takes on a lighter tone as Sarah and Desiree share some of their own high school experiences, and you’re all laughing about a story Sarah is telling when Prentiss and Dennison return. You say your goodbyes and leave, heading back to the precinct while feeling better than you were before.

* * * * *

When you arrive back at the station, Hotch and Gideon are engaged in what seems to be a heated discussion with Gordinski.

“Buford should be that kid’s hero!” Gordinski exclaims as you, Prentiss, and Reid walk up to the trio.

“You talking about Carl Buford?” Emily asks.

“Yes,” Hotch tells her.

“Emily and Dennison just left his office,” you say.

Prentiss nods. “Yeah, we—”

“HEY!” you hear Dennison yell from down the hall. He walks back around the corner. “What, did we turn him loose?” You frown as Gordinski quickly walks past him and down the hall. You and Emily share a look of confusion as Gordinski comes storming back into the room.

“You let him escape?!” he shouts, his voice accusatory.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Hotch asks, frowning.

Dennison goes to the phone and dials. He puts out an APB. “Black male, 33, six foot one, name is Derek Morgan.”

Gordinski glares at us. “You’re standing there trying to convince me that a local hero is my killer while you’re letting my suspect dance out the back door?! I’m gonna charge all of your asses!” He stalks over to his desk and angrily picks up the phone, jabbing his finger into the dial pad.

“You have to tell your officers that Morgan’s not a threat,” JJ pleads with him.

“Like hell I will!” he says.

JJ spreads her arms. “But this—”

“Lady, as far as I’m concerned, he is a threat, okay?”

Your grip on your crutches tightens as you grind your teeth together. “He’s beyond reason,” you say quietly as JJ walks back to you.

“We have to find him first,” JJ agrees.

“Any ideas?” Gideon asks.

“You know, his mother said that Buford practically raised him after his father died,” Emily says. “Mentored him, took him on trips, spent all of his time with him. Basically became a surrogate father.”

You scoff, and everyone turns to you. Hotch stares at you, and you look right back at him, mentally urging him to understand, to not make you say it and betray Morgan’s secret. After a couple seconds, his face hardens and he nods, glancing at Gideon. “Jason, I think I know what he was afraid we’d find. Detective!” he calls. “We may know where he’s heading.”

You ride in the second row of the SUV between JJ and Prentiss while Hotch drives with Gideon in the passenger seat and Reid in the third row. You know you’re technically still on desk duty, but there was no way in hell you weren’t going to help Morgan. One look at Hotch and he simply sighed and nodded. You fidget in your seat, fiddling with your dog tags anxiously.

“What are you wearing?” Emily asks, nudging you.

“Oh, these?” You pull the chain out from under your shirt, showing her.

She nods. “Whose are they?”

You chuckle. “You’re gonna laugh,” you tell her.

“Try me,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“I bought them online about two years before I woke up in this universe,” you explain. “They have Bucky Barnes’ information about it.”

“Who’s that?” she asks.

“He, um, he’s a character from Marvel comics,” you say sheepishly. “Captain America’s best friend.” Emily smiles but, to her credit, doesn’t laugh, allowing you to continue. “He’s my favorite character from the Marvel movies, the ones that aren’t out yet. I wear them to remind me to always keep going and to never give up. He’s been through so much and he’s still a hero, a good man, and, I don’t know.” You shake your head. “I know, it’s silly.”

Emily shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I think I get it.” She opens her mouth to say more when you notice you’re pulling up to the youth center.

“We’re here,” you say. You all pile out of the car and walk up to the building, following Gordinski as he quietly enters the back door of the youth center. He creeps forward down the hallway, but stops when he hears Morgan’s voice.

“…make sure there’s a hell of a lot to lose, don’t you,” Morgan is saying.

You hear Carl Buford’s voice come next. “I don’t know what you think you remember—”

“No, no, no,” Morgan’s voice interrupts. “See, it’s not what I remember that’s gonna hurt you, Carl. Our business is over way too long ago to matter. You’re protected by a statute of limitations and that’s my fault.”

“Then good night,” Buford says.

“You set me up!” You can hear the anger in Morgan’s voice. “You knew Damien Walters wanted James to call me about you. So you killed him.” Morgan’s voice gets louder. “You killed him because you knew I’d come after you, didn’t you?”

“Now you’re just talking crazy,” Buford says. You see Gordinski shift in front of you.

“God, I should have told somebody about you when I was a kid!” Morgan yells. “When you were helping me. Well, you know what happens in cases like this. Once that dam breaks, the flood comes. One kid steps up, just one. And then another one. And another. Because they’re not scared of you anymore. They know they’re not alone. James Barfield is your dam.”

“Whatever lies James told you—”

“They are not lies! You did the same thing to me!”

“I did nothing to you, to James.”

“One, by one, they’re gonna pile up until there’s so many accusations, you can’t say that they’re all lies!” Morgan yells.

“Do you have any idea how many kids I’ve helped get out of this neighborhood? Hm? How many lives I’ve provided! Look at you! You’d probably be dead by now.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t for free, now was it?” Morgan’s voice cracks and you grind your teeth together, wanting nothing more than to walk right up to Carl Buford and punch him right in his stupid face.

“I pulled you out of the gutter,” Buford says.

“I pulled myself out of the gutter, all the way to the FBI!” Morgan is yelling again. “I did that!”

“You sayin’ I had nothin’ to do with makin’ you who you are?”

“No, Carl.” Morgan’s voice breaks again, and you look up at the ceiling, trying not to cry at the pure anguish in his voice. “Actually, I’m saying you have everything to do with making me who I am. Because of you, I’m somebody who gets to spend the rest of his life making sure guys like you go down.”

“Look, Derek….” Buford pauses, and Gordinski carefully moves further down the hallway, stepping into the light behind Buford. “I never hurt you. You could’a said no.”

Gordinski steps up to Buford. “You’re under arrest, Carl.”

Buford spins around. “I’ve helped a lot of kids.”

“Let’s go,” Gordinski says, cuffing him.

Buford fights against him. “The neighborhood won’t be the same without me! It’s gonna be worse without the center!”

“Somebody’ll keep this center running,” Morgan tells him. “The neighborhood will. I will.”

“Wait! Wait!” Buford protests. “Derek. Isn’t there something you can do for me?”

Morgan glares at him. “You go to hell.”

Gordinski hands Buford off to Dennison, who leads him away. Gordinski gives Morgan a nod before walking after him. Gideon and Hotch step further into the room as Morgan turns to them. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. He turns and walks out the way Gordinski went, and Hotch turns to you.

“You should’ve told us sooner,” he chastises.

You shake your head. “It wasn’t for me to tell,” you say, shrugging. Hotch continues to look at you for a moment before turning and walking away. You sigh, following after him as Gideon motions you forward.

* * * * *

The team quickly packs their things and leaves the police station, heading for the jet. Morgan stays behind to spend a few more days with his family. The atmosphere on the ride home feels especially heavy, with everyone knowing what happened but no one really wanting to talk about it, wanting to respect Morgan’s privacy— or what little remains of his privacy, anyway. When you arrive at the airfield, Emily helps you down the stairs after you almost fall at the top. It’s after midnight by the time you get to your car, and almost one when you get home. You consider going to bed, but end up grabbing a bottle of Blue Moon from your fridge, wishing you had some harder alcohol in the apartment, and plop yourself down in front of the TV, watching reruns of House for a couple hours before finally taking your meds and going to bed.

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