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st4rpiece · 2 months ago

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needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

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Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.

And it tore him apart.

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer. ��

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.

“Hey,” he called softly.

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."

You raised a brow. "Talk?"

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

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One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

912 notes · View notes

hannahbarberra162 · 3 months ago

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Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader) Part 2

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Seek medical attention for infected bite wounds.

The first chapter

The next chapter

Shanks POV

Hongo tilted his head to the side while contemplating your last statement. His mouth opened and closed before asking “Captain, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Shanks nodded, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracking down the Omega’s face.

“Stay here, OK? I’ll be just outside the door,” Shanks said in your ear quietly, his stubble scraping against your cheek and earning him a shiver from you. Picking you off his lap with ease, Shanks set the Omega down on the unmade bed. You were still steadfastly looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact with either Hongo or himself. Shanks stood up and followed the doctor, opening and shutting the cabin door gently behind him to avoid startling you.

“Are you keeping her?” the doctor asked, letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same.

Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed as the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you.

“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”

“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.

“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.

“How much do you know about Omegas?”

Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience.

“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.”

“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.

Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”

“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation.

Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”

Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.”

“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.

“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”.

“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.

“So? What does that have to do with him?”

“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.

“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.

“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.

Your POV

You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.

You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.

The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.

“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted.

“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.

“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them.

The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.

“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.

“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.

“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.

Shanks POV

He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.

“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.

“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.

You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.

“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.”

You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds.

“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?”

Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.”

“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.

“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water.

“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.

“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.

“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.

Your POV

Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated.

Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door.

“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.

“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.

“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.

“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”

“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately.

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.

“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.

“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.

“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound.

“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.

After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.

“No, sit down. She’s fine -”

“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -”

“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.

“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.

“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.

“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.

“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.

“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.

“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.

“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head.

“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.

“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.

“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.

“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.

“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower.

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times.

“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be.

“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”

“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.”

“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin.

You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.

“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.

“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso.

“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.

“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle

#abo shanks #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #omega reader #Emperor's Prize #op x y/n #tw yandere #red haired pirates #red haired shanks #Hongo #benn beckman #protective Shanks #tw trauma #tw abuse #yandere Shanks

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reidingandwriting · 10 months ago

Text

domestic > keigo takami/hawks (mha)

Word Count: 3.6k

Ship: Keigo/Hawks x Reader

Warnings: Corrupt hero commission (we hate the hero commission on this blog), keigo overworks himself, keigo & reader fight, miscommunication, some cursing, keigo’s a little shit (he has his reasons okay), mentions of a rescue mission and the aftermath, hurt/comfort

A/N: So sorry this fic is so delayed 😭 Have been going Through It lately but I’ve got a few fics queued up to make up for my absence ❤️ This is my favorite Keigo fic so far

“pro hero hawks is the first on the scene!”

“pro hero hawks took down the villain that’s injured dozens, including some pro heroes!”

“another takedown by pro hero hawks.”

“hawks is finally on the scene, this should be over soon.”

keigo wasn’t answering his phone. which was expected for the first night. he had just come home from a week long mission and on his flight home, another issue came up that he had to answer to. he didn’t get home until midnight, having refused any other hero’s offer to relieve him once his shift had technically ended, until best jeanist all but escorted him off the scene. you had hoped keigo had been resting when you walked into your office the next morning, until you looked at the news and saw he was already back out on patrols.

when you walked into keigo’s office, you expected to see a mountain of paperwork on his desk. you were fully prepared to work all day to catch him up, hoping to surprise him by finishing all his work for him. you were the one surprised when you saw only one paper on his desk, a note for you.

‘gonna be working late tonight, don’t wait up for me’

you scowled as you read the note, even if you had to fight the urge to melt when you saw the little bird doodle keigo had signed the note with. you once again called keigo, this time his work number, and you resisted the urge to throw your phone at the wall when your call once again went unanswered. you pulled up your text conversation with keigo and began to type.

‘you’re going home tonight. i will be outside at eight and you will let me in. i am not kidding when i tell you i’ll wait all night. please, just let me know you’re okay.’

you knew the text would go unanswered, but you hoped. you hoped that he would read it, at the least. that he would talk to you. your phone buzzed and you quickly picked it up, and you sighed when it was just another text from rumi.

‘i’ve seen him pass by once or twice, but he doesn’t stop. i’ve got a few others looking out for him, i’ll let you know if i hear anything’

you set your phone down with a sigh as you sat back in the office chair. this was going to be a long night.

you texted keigo a warning before you entered his apartment. you had been given a key by keigo to use in case of emergencies, and your chatty birdbrain suddenly ghosting you is an emergency in your eyes. it was two AM when you entered, and you felt your eyes begin to sting when you realized keigo wasn’t home. a quick search on the hero network showed that he was last seen a little after ten, and none of your own security alerts had gone off at your apartment. he was at his agency, avoiding you. it stung, the avoidance settling heavy in your chest, weighing you down as if there was a physical weight on your body.

you texted a quick update to rumi before you left keigo’s, and you made the walk back to your own apartment. keigo would definitely have lectured you any other time if he knew you walked home alone, and a selfish part of you hoped he’d find out. you’d take the scolding if it meant he would talk to you.

you flinched as you heard a voice speak from beside you.

“surprised he let you walk home alone at this hour,” you relaxed once you recognized the drawl of eraserhead’s voice. “your guard bird working tonight?”

“you’re going to sneak up on me at the wrong time one day and you’re going to get your shit rocked,” you replied, no real heat to your words.

“i’ll take my chances.” a hint of a smirk graced his face before it relaxed into his usual stoic expression.

“but no, he’s not working tonight.” you paused. “not patrolling at least. he is working hard at avoiding me, though.” while you and eraserhead, aizawa, had only met a few times, you had established a friendly relationship with the underground hero. you had also developed a friendship with present mic, which seemed to influence eraserhead’s opinion of you. odd.

“that’s… different.” eraserhead says after a moment. “i’ll keep an eye out for him, and i’ll have hiz- present mic look out for him as well.”

the two of you continued to talk as he escorted you to your apartment. minutes later, you opened the door to your apartment and let the door shut with a soft click, and you barely made it to the couch before you fell asleep.

“ooh, rough night?” one of the tech interns, kazuki, teases as he watches you walk in.

“hilarious.” you scowled. you knew you looked tired; you woke up frequently throughout the night, unable to sleep for more than half an hour at a time. you gave up on sleep around five thirty this morning, and you clutched to the thermos of coffee in your hands like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “didn’t really sleep much last night.”

“hawks working you too hard? i saw him walking around a few minutes ago. looks like he was headed to his office,” your heart stopped at those words. was he actually here?

“thank you, kazuki!” you called as you sprinted for the elevator, reminding yourself to send kazuki a proper thank you later. when you burst into keigo’s office, you jumped back as a sharpened red feather flew at you, stopping mere centimeters away from your neck.

“shit, you scared me.” keigo smiled when he recognized you, and the sight of it filled you with anger. “oh, sorry. let me just.” keigo’s feather returned to its natural state and you swatted it away as it went to caress your cheek, not in the mood for his usually sweet antics. “songbird? you okay?”

and you couldn’t help but laugh. full body, doubled over laughs. keigo tilted his head, confusion flashing across his face as you continued to laugh. your name left keigo’s lips, and you recognized the slight movements he was making. he was twitchy, like he wanted to move but he couldn’t decide which move was the best. you could practically hear the wheels in his head turning and you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the familiar sting of unshed tears in your eyes.

“you son of a bitch,” you whispered. you looked at him and his form became blurry, the tears now sliding down your cheeks. “you, you have me worried for days. you ignored my calls and texts, i even had other heroes looking out for you!” you started to walk towards him and you stopped just out of his reach. “you went to the point of staying here to avoid seeing me. why?” you finally met his gaze and golden eyes were filled with an emotion you didn’t recognize. his gaze was cold, distant. yet still, he kept the smile on his face, the smile he plastered on for annoying news reporters.

“i’ve been busy.”

“you’re running yourself ragged! you’re going to get hurt or cause someone else to get hurt because you’re working yourself to death.” you reached out and jabbed him in the chest.

“you don’t understand. you never will, so why are you even trying to? i can’t answer every call and text from my assistant.”

“that’s all i am to you? your assistant?” you asked. you were met with silence and you felt your heart begin to break. “look me in the eyes and tell me that’s all i am to you. and i promise, from now on, that’s all you’ll get from me.”

“what else would you be?”

wordlessly, you dug your key ring from your jacket pocket. you pulled off the key that belonged to keigo’s, to hawks’s, apartment and you set it down on his desk.

“noted. since you’ve clearly got a handle on things, i think i’ll be taking the next two days off for some personal days. i’ll be back on monday, hawks.” the name felt foreign on your lips and his wings twitched in response. you wordlessly spun on your heel and slammed hawks’s office door shut behind you. you could feel the stares from everyone in kei- hawks’s agency watching you, and you briefly shook your head when you saw kazuki before rushing out of the building, straight into the rain that had suddenly started to downpour. because of course it did.

as you walked in the rain to the bus stop, you ignored the frequent buzzing that came from your pocket.

“what else would you be?” echoed through your head, and you couldn’t believe that came from kei- his lips. what happened during his last mission? you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“just an assistant,” you muttered under your breath. “what the hell, birdie?”

it was the middle of the night and you were sitting on your couch, eating from a carton of ice cream as you flipped through the channels on TV. you had finished your second movie of the night when you stumbled across the news. you paused when you saw hawks’s name flash across the bottom of the screen and you wanted to change the channel. but you couldn’t.

“eight hours later, the search and rescue has been completed. over 200 victims were rescued from the destruction thanks to the effort of our number two hero. thank you to pro hero hawks for being the first hero to respond, and the last to leave the tragic scene of the collapsed apartment complex.”

the reporter continued to talk about the injuries and the casualties, and you scanned the screen for him, not seeing a glimpse of red anywhere, save for some discarded feathers on the ground. you pulled out your phone immediately and searched online for something, anything about your- kei- hawks. your messages were full of texts from rumi and kazuki. a few from present mic, even a text from best jeanist’s assistant with a message from the pro.

suddenly, there was a knock on the door and you jumped off the couch. you glanced at the time, a little after midnight. you had hopes for who it was. you also didn’t know what you’d do if it was him. you slowly walked to the front door, willing your heart rate to calm down, and you reached forward to open the door.

you gasped at the sight in front of you, your phone clattering to the floor but you paid it no attention. hawks stood at your door, covered in dirt and dust and… blood? his jacket was gone, pants torn and ripped to barely there shreds of fabric. his flight goggles and headphones were gone, hair caked in dirt and sweat and he looked like he was seconds from falling over. he looked small without his massive wings behind him, most of the feathers left at the scene.

“‘m sorry. i tried, tried to go home. you were closer and,” hawks gestured to himself. “kind of grounded. i’m sorry, i can go.” he swayed a bit. you dove forward as he stumbled, and you held him up as he leaned into you. you kicked the door shut and you repositioned yourself to better support the hero as you walked towards your bathroom. “what are you doin’?” his voice was hoarse, and you made note to grab him water, as well as a million other things once you got him settled.

“first, im gonna clean you up. get some water for you, heat up some leftovers, and get you in clean clothes before i put you in bed.”

“what? no- i. i was horrible. you can’t… you can’t be nice to me. not after everything i said.” hawks said and you shushed him.

“shh, you’re going to wreck your voice more. we’ll talk once you’re taken care of.” you walked into the bathroom and made quick work of setting up a shower. you started to step away to grab towels and you felt a hand grab your arm.

“don’t leave me. please,” he rasped and you turned to face him, your heart aching at the sight in front of you. your keigo.

“not going anywhere. just grabbing towels, yeah?” you walked with him to the hallway, and you grabbed your fluffiest towels. you then grabbed a caddy full of keigo’s favorite toiletries. his shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and oil for his wings. he was missing a lot of feathers, but you’d take care of what was left. he was hurt, your birdie was hurt. it was your turn to be the hero, to make sure he was okay.

when you returned to the bathroom a minute later, keigo’s tired eyes lit up at your return.

“let’s get you in the shower, yeah?“ you set the towels down, put his supplies in the shower, and turned on the shower to his preferred temperature. you then walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his shirt. you glanced up at him and when he nodded, you gently began to peel his uniform off him. you quickly scanned him as you removed more articles of clothing, taking note of any new injuries and were relieved to see relatively little. once keigo had been stripped, you stepped into the shower with him, ignoring the fact you still had your t-shirt and sleep shorts on. your only focus was keigo right now, and you guided him under the shower head.

keigo’s exhaustion had seemed to hit as he leaned against you, and you supported him as you let the water get the top layer of grime off him. “there we go,” you soothed as you shifted, reaching for his shampoo. “there’s my birdie,” a weak chirp left him and you smiled sympathetically. “think you can sit so i can wash your hair?”

wordlessly, keigo moved to kneel down and once he settled, you began to scrub his hair. your hands worked in his hair until they ached, getting everything from the collapsed building from his hair before you added the shampoo. you took your time sudsing up his hair, and you smiled when you brushed some baby feathers in his hairline that caused keigo to coo quietly. keigo pressed a kiss to your stomach as you worked and leaned into your touch, much like a cat being petted. you helped him stand back up once you were ready to wash his body, and keigo practically laid against the wall of the shower as you worked to clean him off efficiently but quickly.

what felt like ages later, you turned the shower off and wrapped keigo up in a towel. you used the other towel to pat your own clothes dry quickly before you started to towel dry his hair.

“why are you… being so nice to me?” keigo asked and you frowned.

“i’m always going to care about you, pretty bird. you were a dick earlier,” you admitted. “but like it or not, you’ve wormed your way into my heart. you deserve to be taken care of, kei. we both know you don’t do it enough for yourself.” you moved to stand behind keigo and you looked at him in the mirror. “is it okay if i touch them?” you glanced at his baby wings and back at him. you held the oil in your hand, letting him see what your intentions were and you panicked when you saw his eyes fill with tears.

keigo couldn’t believe it. he had been horrible to you. he had tried to be horrible, he had never planned to come back to you this way. but he did and you? you dumbfounded him with how you treated him. as if you had just had a little spat over him breaking your heart. he could feel your heartbeat change during the conversation you two had in his office, he could practically hear your heart breaking over his words. but when he came to you, bloody and dirty, wings practically gone, and you treated him so tenderly. so… lovingly. when the first tear slid down his cheek, a dam broke. keigo chirped in surprise as you spun him around before he threw himself into your arms. he sobbed as he clung to you, as if you’d vanish into nothingness if he let go.

your arms immediately tightened around him and you used one hand to stroke his wing, the other combed through his hair so gently, sad warbles left his throat. “whatever happened,” you started. “we’ll handle it. me and you, yeah?” keigo tried to respond but couldn’t force any words out, more chirps leaving him as he nodded against your neck. “that’s my songbird.” you held him until his sobs turned into soft cries, and the cries into the occasional sniffle. keigo’s wing twitched as he felt you began to pay more attention to the feathers, and his eyes began to well up with tears again as he realized. you were preening him.

you’ve straightened his feathers out before a handful of times, usually for shoots or press interviews. he’s never had this much attention paid to them before, never in such a caring way at least. his body became lax against you, pleased coos and quiet chirps leaving his throat every now and then.

once you had finished, you led keigo to your room. you walked to the drawer with keigo’s things and he watched as you pulled out clothes for him to sleep in. “gonna change out of my wet clothes real quick, okay?” he nodded and you smiled softly at him before walking to your own side of the dresser. the two of you got dressed in a comfortable silence and you guided him to the living room, where minutes later, you settled onto the couch with dinner. keigo stayed curled into your side and you seemed perfectly content as you stroked his hair.

what felt like an eternity later, keigo was finally able to speak again. “i tried to come home. when i got off that mission. it.. it went horrible and i just wanted you. but i fail- they had told me i failed. i wasn’t as efficient as i should be, one of the villains had managed to escape before i caught him again. if i was a proficient hero, he never would have gotten a chance to get away.” you looked up as keigo spoke, and keigo struggled to maintain eye contact with you. you always seemed to see him, and that was terrifying.

“so i was already beating myself up when they sent me to another disaster, to redeem myself,” he quoted and you scowled at the words. “and i did better, that’s what they told me. and for a minute, i didn’t feel like a failure anymore. i felt worthy of my hero title so i…”

“you stayed busy, worked harder and harder to get rid of that bad feeling.” you finished for him and keigo nodded.

“but no matter what i did, how many patrols i went on, how many hours late i worked, it wasn’t good enough. they said i’m letting personal things get in the way of me being a good hero, that i was a better hero alone.” keigo trailed off and you looked sad, yet angry at the same time.

“they were the reason for our fight.” you said and keigo hummed in response.

“still. i never should have said what i did,” keigo cupped your cheek and you leaned into the touch. “i need you to know. need you to know you’re so much more to me than an assistant. maybe i’m a worse hero for it, but i love you. i love you, so much.” keigo’s voice shook and you scooted closer to him.

“i love you too,” you whispered. you glanced at keigo’s lips then back up at him, golden gaze meeting your own. you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, and keigo let out a soft breath as he kissed you. he had kissed you countless times, but none had ever been this soft. this slow, this.. vulnerable. there was no rush, nothing you were aiming for. just the two of you intertwined, and keigo didn’t break the kiss until he was out of breath, and he smiled at the quiet whine you made. “i think,” you said after a minute. “you need a few days to recover. bed rest, doctor’s orders.”

“you’re a doctor now, hmm?” keigo smiled as he pressed lazy kisses down your jaw and you pulled a blanket over the two of you. “can’t argue with doctor’s orders.”

“bed rest is the first step in treatment. cuddles could speed up the healing process, as well.” you said matter-of-factly as you tangled your legs with his own. keigo closed his eyes as you buried your face into his chest, and as you rubbed his back, keigo’s thoughts became fuzzy.

“careful, will stay here forever.” you nuzzled closer and keigo vaguely remembered your reply before you fell asleep.

“i’d love nothing more.”

#mha hawks #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #mha fic #mha x reader #mha #bnha #bnha fic #bnha x reader #keigo takami #keigo x y/n #mha takami keigo #keigo x reader #hurt/comfort #keigo x you

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amirasainz · 5 months ago

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Hi, can you do a daniel x heidi × reader where the girls come drunk from a party and danny has to take care of them at home

Wait, why is this my favourite throuple to write for currently??? This is my first time writing this ship and I love it?!?!?

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

No Part 2

Girls night

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the quiet streets of Monaco. Daniel had opted for a chill night at home, the soothing hum of the city fading in the background while his girlfriends, Heidi and YN, decided to paint the town red. The two girls had been excitedly preparing for a night out, laughter and playful banter echoing from the bathroom as they got ready.

“You know what I could really go for?” YN asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she rummaged through Heidi's makeup drawer. “A shot of tequila!”

“Tequila? It’s like you want to wake up with a hangover,” Heidi laughed, sliding on a pair of heels. “But fine, let’s go crazy tonight! Just don’t tell Daniel!”

Daniel, lounging on the couch, chuckled to himself as he overheard their conversation. He had come to expect these kinds of antics from the girls. Their infectious energy always kept him on his toes. “Have fun, ladies! Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he called out, settling into his comfy spot.

Hours passed as Daniel lost himself in a Netflix binge, but as the clock ticked closer to midnight, he began to worry. He picked up his phone to check the time again. “Where are they?” he muttered, glancing at the door as if it would magically open to reveal the two.

He decided to text Heidi. “Hey, hope you’re having fun! Just checking in. Everything good?”

A few minutes passed, and Daniel’s heart raced with anxiety. The last thing he wanted was for anything to happen to them. Just as he was about to text again, he heard the familiar sound of keys jangling, followed by raucous laughter. The door swung open, and there stood YN and Heidi, stumbling in, their cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Surprise!” YN yelled, nearly losing her balance as she twirled around. “We’re back!”

Heidi giggled, leaning against the wall for support. “And we brought back… fun!”

Daniel shook his head with a relieved smile, though he couldn’t hide his concern. “You both look like you had a little too much fun. How many shots did you take?”

“Shots?” YN squealed, her voice an octave higher. “I lost count after six! But I could go for more! Danny, you should join us!”

“Um, I think I’ll pass. I’m more of a ‘chill at home’ guy,” he replied, trying to steer the conversation. But the girls were already lost in their own world.

Heidi suddenly flung her arms around YN from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder. “I just want to cuddle you forever,” she murmured, her words slightly slurred but filled with affection.

“Cuddle party!” YN shouted, breaking free from Heidi’s embrace. She darted towards the balcony, eyes wide with excitement. “Let’s go look at the stars! Come on, Danny!”

“YN, wait!” Daniel called out, springing to his feet. “You can’t just run outside like that!”

“Too late!” she laughed, swinging the balcony door open and stepping outside, arms raised as if embracing the night. “I’m flying! Look at me, I’m a bird!”

Daniel rushed after her, his protective instincts kicking in. “YN, come back! You’re going to fall!”

Heidi, now seated on the couch, was watching with wide eyes, tears forming. “She’s not in my arms anymore! Daniel, go get her!”

“I’m trying!” Daniel shouted back, panic rising in his chest as he stepped onto the balcony, catching YN just as she leaned dangerously over the railing. “Hey, hey! Let’s not go overboard, alright? Come on, let’s get you back inside.”

“But the stars are so pretty!” YN whined, her enthusiasm unwavering. “You just don’t understand!”

“Okay, I don’t, but I do understand that it’s past midnight, and you’re not exactly sober right now,” he said, gently but firmly guiding her back inside.

As they stepped into the living room, Heidi had already started crying. “You were gone! I thought I lost you!” she sobbed, her arms opening wide. YN, feeling the comfort of Heidi's warmth, leaped into her embrace.

“I’m right here, silly! Don’t cry!” YN giggled, snuggling into Heidi’s chest. “You’re the best cuddler ever!”

Daniel watched the scene unfold, a mix of exhaustion and amusement washing over him. “Alright, let’s get you two to bed,” he said, moving closer to them. “I think it’s time for a sleepover.”

“Sleepover!” YN cheered, the energy back in her voice. “But I wanna sleep with Heidi!”

“Okay, okay,” Daniel said, managing to get both girls into the bedroom. YN immediately crawled onto the bed, pulling Heidi down with her. “Cuddle me, Heidi! I’m cold!”

Daniel sighed, pulling the blanket up over them. “You’re going to have to settle down now, okay? It’s time for sleep,” he said, turning to leave the room.

Heidi looked up at him with a sleepy smile, her hair tousled. “Daniel, you can’t just leave me like this. I need you too!” she said, her voice softening.

“Right, but I’m kind of… tired. Plus, you two need your space,” he replied, glancing at YN, who was already starting to doze off, nestled against Heidi.

“Nope,” Heidi declared, her tone suddenly firm as she pointed toward the living room. “You need to sleep on the couch. I want to cuddle YN on my own.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto his face. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope! My cuddles, my rules!” she said, snuggling into YN. “Now go!”

“Alright, alright, you win this round,” Daniel laughed, giving in. “But if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

As he settled down on the couch, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He could hear the muffled giggles of the girls through the wall. This was certainly not how he imagined his night would go, but in the end, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a loud crash from the bedroom. “Heidi! YN! What was that?” He shot up, ready to rush back in.

“Just a pillow fight!” YN shouted, her voice echoing through the house.

“Seriously?” Daniel called out, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Pillow fight! Come join us!” Heidi urged, laughter bubbling in her tone.

“Forget it! You two are on your own,” he yelled, flopping back onto the couch with a grin. “This is going to be one long night.”

And as he lay there, the sounds of laughter and playful bickering filled the air, he knew he wouldn’t trade this chaotic love for anything. After all, this was what life was all about: racing hearts, silly nights, and the warmth of those you loved most.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x heidi berger x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 x female reader #lando norris x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋

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reomikagekin · 11 days ago

Note

Hello! I saw requests were open and was wondering if you could write some fluff for Ace and a fem!reader where they’ve been on a cold winter island all day so when they get back to the ship some toasty cuddles ensue thanks to everyone’s favorite walking space heater bf❤️

Of course!! Hehe here you go

The sun had set hours ago, leaving the cold of the winter island biting into your skin as you trudged through the snow beside Ace.

The journey back to the ship had been long and arduous, and by the time you finally saw the familiar sight of the Moby Dick in the distance, you were frozen to the bone. Ace, ever the mischievous yet protective one, glanced over at you with a grin.

"You okay there, sweetheart?" he asked, voice teasing, though you could hear the concern underneath. You gave a small nod, teeth chattering as you pulled your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "I’ll be fine. Just need to get warm," you replied, trying to sound stronger than you felt.

Ace chuckled, his warm breath puffing into the air, and without another word, he swept you into his arms. The sudden warmth of his body was a sharp contrast to the cold around you, and you let out a surprised gasp. "You’re my walking space heater, Ace," you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek into the crook of his neck as he carried you towards the ship. "I try my best," Ace replied with a wink, his arm tightening around you. "But you know, I’m always happy to keep you warm."

By the time you reached the ship, the cold was but a distant memory, replaced by the comforting heat of Ace’s embrace. He quickly led you inside, where the warm glow of the ship's hearth greeted you."You’re safe now," Ace whispered softly, helping you out of your outer layers, his hands gentle despite his usual fiery nature. "Let’s get you settled."

You sank into the soft cushions by the fire, and Ace soon joined you, pulling you close into his chest. His body heat surrounded you like a warm cocoon, and you melted into him, your hands curling around the fabric of his shirt. "I could get used to this," you murmured, your eyelids heavy as you basked in the warmth, content with the feeling of Ace's arms around you.

"Good. Because I plan to keep you warm for as long as you’ll let me," Ace replied, his voice a low, comforting rumble in your ear. With that, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and the two of you settled into the quiet, peaceful warmth of each other’s company, letting the world outside fade away.

#one piece x reader #one piece #ace one piece #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader

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cayleeuhithinknott · 2 months ago

Text

❛ GUARDED HEART ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…when bodyguard!matt has to go against rosebud’s wants, he makes it up to her backstage.

pairing: bodyguard!matt & popstar!reader

cw: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem recieving), use of pet names, use of oc’s name, “rosebud”!! im prob forgetting stuff oops

requested here

the concert hall buzzed with excitement as you, the young and charismatic pop sensation, took center stage for the fourth night in a row. your energetic performance had the crowd on their feet, singing and dancing along to the catchy tunes. but as the final notes of the encore faded, your thoughts turned to your adoring fans waiting outside. you felt an overwhelming urge to thank them personally, to give them a moment they'd never forget.

little did you know, your bodyguard, matt, was watching your every move with keen eyes. he stood in the shadows, blending into the background, a silent guardian. matt had been assigned to protect you during your world tour, and he took his job seriously.

he knew the potential dangers that lurked in the darkness, and he was determined to keep you safe, even from yourseld.

as the crowd roared for an encore, you made your way backstage, heart pounding with excitement. you felt invincible, as if you could conquer the world.

“i’m just going to say hi to my fans out back," you announced to the crew, her voice filled with determination. "it’ll only take a minute."

but before you could take a step, a strong hand clasped your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. it was matt, his eyes narrowed with concern.

"not tonight, rosebud," he said firmly, his deep voice echoing in the quiet backstage area. "it’s not safe. there's a large crowd out there, and we don't know who might be lurking."

you pouted, eyes sparkling with defiance. "but matt, they're my fans—no one’s gonna do anything! i just want to show my appreciation. i’ll be quick, I promise."

matt's gaze softened as he saw the determination in your eyes. he knew that look; it was the same one you got when you were about to defy him. and he knew that once you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

“fine," he relented, knowing he couldn't win this battle. "but I'm coming with you, and we're making this quick."

your face lit up with a mischievous smile, and you gave him a quick peck on the cheek before darting towards the back door. matt sighed, knowing he was in for a challenge.

as the two of you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you, along with the deafening cheers of hundreds of fans. the crowd surged forward, their faces illuminated by the glow of their phones, all hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol.

your heart swelled with joy as you waved at your fans, feeling their love and adoration. you answered questions, signed things, had conversations, and expressed your love. it was amazing. until matt’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“what the hell are you doing?" you squealed, voice filled with surprise.

matt's eyes twinkled with mischief as he hoisted you over his shoulder, his firm grip on your thighs sending shivers down your spine. the fans went wild, their cheers turning into a frenzy of excitement. they’d been shipping the two of you ever since the first night of your tour.

you couldn't help but giggle, feeling like a princess being carried away by her knight in shining armor.

"it’s been 20 minutes, rosebud," matt said, his breath warm against your skin. "i said only for a little bit. i promised to keep you safe, and that's what i intend to do."

as he carried you back inside, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. you were both annoyed at being denied your moment with your fans, yet thrilled by the possessive way matt had claimed you. his protectiveness was both frustrating and arousing, a complex blend of emotions that left you breathless.

backstage, matt set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer than necessary. your eyes locked, and in that instant, the air crackled with unspoken desire.

"you know i only did that for your safety, right?" matt said, his voice low and husky. "i would never deny you your fans, but i can't risk anything happening to you."

you smiled, heart melting at his words. you knew matt was right, and you appreciated his concern. but there was something about his protective nature that stirred a deep longing within you.

"i know, matt," you replied, voice soft and sultry. "and i appreciate it. but…i can't help feeling a little...frustrated."

matt’s eyes darkened with desire as he took a step closer, his body radiating heat. “frustrated, huh?" he murmured, his lips curling into a seductive smile. "well, maybe i can help with that."

before you could respond, matt's lips were on yours, his kiss passionate and demanding. he tasted like sin and temptation, and you eagerly returned his kiss, hands threading through his brown hair. your tongues danced, exploring each other with a hunger that had been building for weeks.

as the kiss deepened, matt’s hands roamed over your body, his touch electric. he cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your dress. you moaned into his mouth, body arching towards him, craving more.

with expert hands, matt slid your dress down, baring your skin. his lips trailed kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

your head fell back, offering yourself to him, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"you’re so beautiful, baby," matt whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "i’ve wanted to do this for so long."

he knelt before you, eyes fixed on the apex of your thighs, where your wetness glistened through your panties. your cheeks flushed with pleasure, knowing what was about to happen.

matt hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, his gaze never leaving your exposed pussy.

your breath caught in your throat as you felt the cool air on your bare skin, anticipation making you tremble.

“you're so wet," matt murmured, his voice thick with need. he leaned forward, his warm breath caressing your sensitive folds. your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. matt's tongue darted out, tracing your slit from your clit to your entrance, teasing with light, feathery strokes.

"oh, matt," you moaned, hands gripping his shoulders. "pl-please, don't tease."

matt chuckled, the sound vibrating against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "i’m just getting started, baby," he said, his voice laced with promise.

he began to lick in earnest, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, exploring every inch of your pussy. he lapped at your juices, savoring the taste, his tongue flicking your clit with each pass. your hips moved in rhythm with his tongue, moans filling the room.

"that's it, baby," matt encouraged, his voice muffled by your thighs. "let go. i want to taste it baby, c’mon.."

his fingers joined the dance, sliding into your wetness, curling and stroking your sweet spot with expert precision. your body trembled, orgasm building with each stroke of his tongue and thrust of his fingers.

“o-oh fuck, matt!“ you cried, voice hoarse with pleasure. "i’m gonna cum!"

matt increased the pace, his tongue and fingers working in unison, driving you higher and higher. your body convulsed, juices flowing freely as you climaxed, your sweet essence flooding matt’s mouth.

he didn't stop. continuing to lap at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your orgasm until you were reduced to a quivering mess, legs weak and her breath ragged.

“that was incredible," you whispered, eyes fluttering open to meet matt’s intense gaze. "you have no idea how much i needed that."

matt smiled, his face flushed with satisfaction. "i think i have a pretty good idea," he said, his voice rough with desire.

“but i’m not done with you yet."

he stood, his hard cock straining against his pants, and gently guided you to the other couch in the room. you lay back, body still buzzing with pleasure, as matt stripped off his clothes.

"i want to make this last," he said, his voice low and controlled. "i want to feel every inch of you."

your heart raced as Matt positioned himself between your thighs, his cock poised at your entrance. you reach down, wrapping your hand around his length, guiding him inside you.

matt entered you slowly, inch by inch, eyes never leaving. your breath caught as you felt him stretch you, filling you completely. he paused, letting you adjust to his size, before beginning a slow, sensual rhythm.

“you feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained. "so fuckin’ tight..."

your hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin, urging him on. matt’s thrusts became deeper, more deliberate, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through both of your bodies.

"yes, matt," you whispered, voice thick with desire. "just like that. fuck..."

matt's control began to slip as his need for you grew. his thrusts became more urgent, his hips slamming into yours, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful stroke. your body responded, pussy clenching around him, milking his cock.

"i’m close," you panted, fingernails digging into his shoulders. "i-i wan’ to cum with you."

matt's eyes rolled back as he felt your pussy tighten around him, your juices flowing freely.

he gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to spill inside you. with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep within you, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself into you.

your body convulsed around him, orgasm crashing over you in waves. you cried out, nails raking his back, as your pussy milked every last drop from him.

the two of you lay entangled, hearts racing and bodies slick with sweat. matt’s lips found yours, and he kissed you deeply, sharing the taste of passion.

"that was..." you began, your voice breathless.

“incredible? yeah," matt finished, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "and don’t worry. i plan on keeping you safe and satisfied for a very long time."

you smiled, heart full, knowing that with matt by your side, you were in for the ride of your life.

a/n: hope you enjoyed!! req anything you want in my inbox please and ty <3

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

#cayleeuhithinknott #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt stuniolo fanfic #𝜗𝜚 cayleeuhithinknott popstar!reader au

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schrijverr · 1 month ago

Text

Do You Want to Go with the Strange Man, Buddy?

Divergence from chapter 13, where tía Pepa is forced to drop Christopher off at the 118 while Eddie is at the academy, because Abuela isn’t feeling well and she has to work. This leaves Buck with a surprise introduction to make to everyone.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warnings: mentioned minor character death, mistaken child abduction

~~~

Buck had been working out on his own. It’s a slow shift – almost q-word, but he’s not saying it – so he actually took a decent shower after. He doesn’t know what it is about the shitty showers, but they’re homely to him.

Anyway, when he gets out and back into uniform, he checks his phone to see he’s missed a call from Pepa. She’s supposed to be dropping Chris off at Abuela’s house right about now, so he frowns and quickly calls her back.

“Oh, Buck, good. You’re on shift now, right?” she picks up.

“Yeah, I am. Is everything okay? Is Chris?” Buck asks worriedly.

“Christopher is fine,” Pepa tells him and his muscles unclench slightly. “We’re outside your work now, can you be there quick?”

“I can be there right now,” Buck says, starting to move towards the doors without a moment of hesitation. “And you’re sure everything’s alright?”

“It is, it is. Mama just can’t watch him today, she came down with a stomach bug,” Pepa explains.

At that point, Buck is at her car, quickly looking inside and waving over to Chris. However, he doesn’t immediately go over to him, because Pepa has gotten out of the car and closed to door behind her, a clear sign she wants to talk to him real quick, before Chris can hear.

Lowly, Pepa says: “Mama can’t watch him and I can’t take him to work right now. I can when I’m off, but not before. I tried calling Eddie, but he wouldn’t pick up. Is he safe here? Can you get off?”

Buck knows checking your phone at the academy has a high chance of getting yourself yelled at, so he gets why Eddie wouldn’t see the call. Mentally he makes a note to send Eddie a text about it all, before he assures her: “Of course I can take Chris. My Captain’s pretty chill, he’ll give me off or make me man behind or something. I’ll figure it out.”

“Gracias, gracias,” Pepa says, kissing his cheeks. “I have to go rush back before my lunch hour is over now.”

“Of course,” Buck blushes, still not entirely used to the warmth of this part of the Diaz family. He takes Chris’s bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder, before letting her get in the car, while he goes to get Chris.

Pepa has said her goodbye to him by the time he gets to his door, so he’s just focused on Chris when he opens the door. “Hey, buddy! Excited to hang out with me today?”

“Yeah,” Chris cheers.

“Good,” Buck smiles, unbuckling Chris from his seat and lifting him out of the car. He puts him on his hip while reaching in for the crutches, then the two of them wave goodbye to tía Pepa.

With her car out of the parking lot, Buck suddenly finds himself alone with Chris. At work. And it hits him that this is going to be a very hard thing to explain. Hell, he doesn’t even know how to begin, because how the fuck is he going to play this off?

It seems like frat boy Buck is dying today and he hopes they’re not going to be too weird about it in front of Chris. He’s never wanted his own issues to touch Chris. However, it’s also going to be heartbreaking to introduce him to everyone as his son, knowing that won’t last forever.

Subconsciously, he hugs Chris a little closer, before forcing cheer into his voice saying: “Well, I gotta introduce you to everyone then talk to my Captain for a bit, but then I can show you all the trucks and equipment. How does that sound?”

“I get to see the trucks?” Chris asks excitedly. With Buck sharing stories over dinner or breakfast on an almost daily basis, he’s gotten very enthralled with firefighters, so it’s dream come true.

Buck’s heart melts at the sight and decides that no matter how today goes, he’s going to make fucking sure Chris can see those trucks up close and personal. “Yeah, Superman, of course. Let’s go. Wanna be put down?”

Chris shakes his head. He has quickly realized that they first need to get through boring adult stuff before he can see the trucks and he wants to speed the whole process up. Which means he is perfectly fine where he is, getting to look around while papi does the walking for now. He’ll be independent when they get to the cool stuff.

So, Buck apprehensively makes his way up the stairs with Chris in his arms. He’s unsure what kind of reaction he should be bracing for when the finds the others hanging around the couch with their mugs, pausing when they see him.

For a moment, all of them just look at each other.

Then Hen cautiously speaks up: “Uh, Buckaroo, where- where did you get the kid? Did someone… Did he get lost?�� she corrects herself, knowing Chris can hear her and not wanting to implant the idea that he was abandoned before they know more.

And Buck knows he should explain, but just going ‘no, this is my son’ feels weird when it’s not forever and this set up is just too funny. So he doesn’t explain and instead shrugs: “No, I just saw him while I was at work and took him.”

Everyone’s eyes get wide and they all freeze, as if they can’t believe that they’re hearing that and aren’t sure if he’s joking or not. They know Buck can’t lie, but since it’s technically true, it doesn’t read like a lie, which is hilarious to Buck right now.

He keeps a straight face as he turns to Chris and says: “Isn’t that right, Chris? I just took you off the streets.”

Chris – a little shit after his own heart and a better liar than his papi – just grins and nods: “Uh-huh, you did.”

Chimney must decide that he’s fucking with them, because he rolls his eyes: “Alright, sure. Was there anyone with him?”

“Yeah,” Buck says. “She wasn’t paying attention. I mean, I took this little guy here right out of her car and we waved at her when she left. Didn’t even blink. Probably didn’t care I did, did she?”

“That’s right,” Chris chimes in again.

At this point everyone is starting to get actually concerned. Buck is a little offended that they are, but he also gets it. Who knows if he snapped or something? A child abduction case should always be taken seriously. So, he should probably also stop now. Maybe a bad joke to make to begin with.

“Buck,” Bobby says, getting up slowly and holding out his hands as if calming a distressed patient. “I am asking you, if you can give the child to me. Okay?”

And look, he should just explain now, because this has gotten out of hand – story of his life, he supposes – but he can’t let this moment pass. It’s an educative moment, a cautionary tale if you will. So he turns to Chris on his hip and jostles him slightly, before quirking a brow and asking: “Do you want to go with the strange man, buddy?”

In the background, everyone is just getting more and more concerned with Hen and Chimney also rising to their feet and putting their mugs down. Buck half thinks one of them might sneak away to grab a tranquilizer or something, a true sign he should have never done this, but it’s too late for that now.

Luckily for everyone, Chris puts them all out of their misery by giggling: “No, papi.”

“Good answer!” Buck cheers, pressing a kiss on Chris’s cheek as he hugs him closer. “That is right, do not go with a strange man.” He turns to everyone else, who is still staring at him, perplexed. Buck has never seen someone blue screen like that. Ignoring it, he just goes: “And that’s how you teach stranger danger, people.”

For a few seconds it’s silent. The three others in the room blinking at him as they try to wrap their heads around the sharp turn that has just happened.

Not wanting to wait around for the explosion, he barrels forward, talking to Chris again as he goes: “So, let’s make them not strange people. This is my Captain, Bobby. Do you remember me talking about Bobby?”

“I do, he’s the Captain with the nice food,” Chris tells him.

Buck blushes a little, saying: “He is indeed the Captain with the nice food, but that was our little secret, remember?”

“But, papi, you’re not supposed to lie,” Chris counters.

“It’s a non-serious lie,” Buck defends himself, feeling a little called out anyway. “But you’re right. No lying. Want to say hi and thank you for the nice food?”

Chris nods and Buck makes his way over to Bobby, so Chris can shake his head. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain Bobby. I’m Christopher. Thank you for the nice food.”

Bobby now remembers Buck sneaking leftovers out the fridge. He always let him, figuring the kitchen in his frat house sucked and he didn’t feel like cooking there. Having the sudden knowledge that his food has instead been shared with this kid. This son Buck has apparently had this whole time, twists something inside him.

A little shellshocked, he shakes Christopher’s hand, saying: “Uh, yeah, call me Bobby. It’s nice to meet you too, kid. I’m glad you like my food.”

Chris smiles at him, but Buck moves on to the others before Bobby manages to form his face into a semblance of a smile back. It hits him all over again. Buck is a father.

“This is Hen, the badass paramedic,” Buck says, gesturing to her first and she waves at Chris and Chris waves back.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Hen smiles, shaking his hand when he holds it out.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Chris says politely and chipperly.

When Chris looks away again, she gives Buck a wide eyed look and quirks a brow. Buck sends a half grimace, half smile back. Then he moves onto Chimney saying: “And this is Chimney, the one with the funny name.”

“Hey! I’m also a badass paramedic,” Chimney exclaims, playing it up and snapping out of his funk, while Chris giggles. “Nice to meet you, kiddo.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Chris says.

During the introduction, it’s clear that both are obviously trying to hide how weirded out they are. Buck is starting to realize it might have been a little dumb of him to lean into the frat boy thing, but in his defense, it will probably be true soon. And that doesn’t hurt at all, no sir.

Shaking the gloomy thoughts off, he asks Chris: “I have to go talk to Bobby for a bit, do you wanna hang out with Hen and Chimney while I do? They know everything about the ambulances, I’m sure they’d love to answer your questions.”

“And then we can go look at the trucks?” Chris asks hopefully.

Buck just melts and he gives Chris a soft smile: “Yeah, buddy, then we can go look at the trucks.”

“Okay.”

He puts Chris down, encouraging: “Strong legs,” hovering a moment until he’s solid, before handing him his crutches. Then he points to the kitchen and says: “I’m going to be right there the whole time, so you can just call out if you need me, yeah?”

“I know, papi,” Chris assures him, a little bit of attitude that he totally gets from Eddie shining through.

“Alright, alright,” Buck grins as he shakes his head. Behind Chris’s back, he sends Hen a questioning look and a thumbs up, silently asking her if it’s okay. She gives him a reassuring smile and he relaxes a little with the relief.

He stays for just long enough to see Chris move towards them without any shyness, before making his way over to the kitchen. Bobby is right behind him and Buck feels very uncomfortable about the whole thing. Exposed in a way he usually tries to avoid.

So, before Bobby can say anything, he starts talking himself: “I know, I’m jumping this on you and I’m so so sorry. He was supposed to stay with Abuela, but she isn’t feeling well and tía Pepa can’t take him to her job and she couldn’t reach Eddie. But I can try to see if I can reach him, or stay behind and use my PTO or something. I totally understand if you can’t accommodate this right now. Again, I’m so sorry.”

“Buck, breathe,” Bobby says, brow creased worriedly. He places a hand on his shoulder and makes sure Buck is looking at him, then says: “We’re here to work with you. I’ll need to clear it with the Chief, but I’m sure we can figure something out until you figure out childcare.”

“Oh, that’s- that’s really nice,” Buck stammers.

Bobby still isn’t sure where the kid came from, but Chris is clearly Buck’s and he is panicking. As much as it hurts to think about it sometimes, he still recalls how stressful and scary being a parent can be. Of course he’s going to support him, even if he still hasn’t processed everything.

He squeezes Buck’s shoulder, searching for more words of support, finally settling on: “Of course.” He wants to ask more about the how and when of the kid, but before he can, Buck’s phone starts ringing.

“Fuck, that’s Eddie, I have to take this real quick,” Buck says, turning away, but not really moving away as he picks up: “Eddie? Hi, yeah, Pepa said she called you.”

Buck has never mentioned an Eddie before today and he doesn’t know how to feel about him, remembering what he almost fired Buck for. Maybe it’s more recent than that? Even if that seems even more ridiculous. God, Bobby hopes it is though.

He can’t hear what Eddie says. However, he does hear what Buck responds: “Everything’s fine. Abuela’s not feeling well, so she dropped Chris off here, until her workday is done.”

Then Buck listens briefly for a moment, before nodding, despite Eddie not being able to see. “Uh, yeah, that’s okay. Everyone here is super nice and helpful. Bobby says we can figure something out. So, I’ll keep him for now, no worries. We’ll look at the trucks and he’ll be thrilled. You just focus on training, I doubt your instructor will be pleased with you taking calls like this or missing out.”

Something in Bobby’s heart clenches at how soothing and worried Buck sounds. He gets the feeling he can now be reasonably certain he knows who Eddie is; his partner. Another thing they all missed. Buck has had a family this whole time. And they don’t sound strained, which is a relief. Though maybe also a bad thing?

That feeling is further confirmed when he sees a small shy smile on Buck’s face as he responds: “No problem. We’re a team, remember? Bye.”

He hangs up, before facing Bobby again face still slightly red. “Uh, sorry about that. Hope you don’t mind me promising that to Eddie.”

“I don’t. It’s okay, Buck, truly. We’re a team here too,” Bobby says, which makes Buck relax. He seems really anxious about this whole thing and Bobby worries about what makes him feel so on edge. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Buck asks, taken by surprise. Then he smiles awkwardly and unconvincingly says: “I’m fine.”

Bobby levels him with a look and Buck looks away. Deciding that stern probably won’t work on Buck, he goes for compassion when he says: “Look, clearly this was something you didn’t want to share. I get that it’s scary and I just want you to know that we support you, no matter what. You’re safe here.”

Buck’s eyes widen momentarily, before his smile becomes more real. “Thank you. It’s not exactly like that, but thank you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed-” Now it’s Bobby’s turn to be awkward. He could have sworn Buck was just coordinating with his… spouse? Partner? Boyfriend? Husband? His Eddie. Maybe it’s a nickname? Maybe it’s something else that would explain the sleeping around. He hopes it will explain the sleeping around.

“Oh, no, Eddie is my husband,” Buck quickly assures him, which clears up exactly nothing. In fact, it makes it worse.

“Now, I’m confused,” Bobby tells him honestly, praying Buck will give him more information that will turn him into someone Bobby recognizes, someone more than a cheater, who lies and hides.

“Uh, it’s- it’s a bit of a long story. Me and Eddie are married as friends, for Chris’s sake. His mom walked out and I kind of stepped up. So, I adopted him when Eddie had to go back into the military. He is training to be a firefighter right now. When he’s stable, he, uh- he’ll probably divorce me. Kinda hard to bring that up,” Buck grimaces apologetically.

Bobby blinks a few times, that is indeed a long story and that’s with probably most of the details missing. However, it does clear up the sleeping around situation, so he’ll take it. Still, unsure what to say, he asks: “So, how long have you two been married then?”

“Coming up two years, but living together and raising Chris for three,” Buck answers, looking over to Chris with a melancholic note in his voice.

Okay, so this isn’t just a recent thing for a last tour, but a years long thing. Bobby knows what it is like to lose a kid, but to know they’re still out there? God. He doesn’t know this Eddie, but that is an awful thing to do to a person. He frowns: “And you’re just going to disappear when he is stable?”

“Uhm, yeah, probably. I mean, we haven’t really discussed it,” Buck rubs the back of his head, then admits: “I’ve been too scared to ask.”

“Buck…” Bobby breathes, unsure how to even begin to tackle all this.

“I know,” Buck sighs before he can figure it out. “I know I should talk to him. I know that. But if I know, I can’t cling to the possibility of it not happening, you know?”

He looks devastated. It’s only in his eyes, his face keeps that helpless half smile, but his eyes carry a deep grief that Bobby knows. He has already given up on keeping a professional distance, so he just pulls Buck into a tight hug and holds him close when Buck melts into it.

When he pulls back, he says: “The not knowing is killing you too. Talk to Eddie, tell him this. If he is a friend, he’ll understand and want to help. We’ll be here for you whatever happens.”

“Thank you, pops,” Buck says with a crooked grin, sounding a little choked up. He hasn’t called Bobby that since his second month there, but the nickname brings back a wave of nostalgia, and – treacherously – a voice in his head flirts with the possibility of being a grandfather, before Bobby represses it.

“Of course,” is what he ends up saying. His smile feels a little more forced, but he sounds genuine when he says: “Go show your son the trucks, I’ll call the Chief.”

Buck’s eyes sparkle when he says ‘your son’ and he nods eagerly: “I will. Again, thank you so much,” then he bounces off to the couches.

At the couches, Hen and Chimney have stared at Chris for all but two seconds. Neither of them have a clue what to do with the surprise news that Buck apparently has a kid. A kid that is now staring at the two of them with big eyes.

“Uh, so how old are you, Chris?” Hen finally asks. A standard question to ease into it.

“I’m seven,” Chris tells her proudly.

Hen quickly does the math. That makes Buck nineteen when Chris was born. She shares a look with Chimney, who did the same math as her. With Buck’s record of sleeping around, that doesn’t entirely come as a surprise. However, the well adjusted kid speaks to a lot more maturity that his recklessness would indicate.

“That’s already really grown up,” she smiles at Chris, who beams with pride.

Both of them are used to working with kids, so Chimney takes over: “Buck mentioned you were interested in the ambulances?”

Now Chris lights up even more. He sure is a happy kid, Hen thinks fondly. Apparently Buck is a good dad, that’s nice. And it becomes increasingly clear that he raised Chris, because when he starts launching questions at them that are truly impressively detailed, his face is the exact same one that Buck makes when he’s learning things and curious. It’s truly adorable to see.

They answer his questions the best they can, getting very charmed by this kid in front of them. They can almost forget that Buck pulled a kid out of thin air. Still, every time he does something Buck-esque they’re reminded all over again.

Hen wonders if there is some drama with the mother, since she now recalls Buck knowing a lot about custody. If Chris had been an accident, then they might not be together anymore and Buck has had to go to court about it. Maybe it had been a whole thing?

Chimney meanwhile realizes why Buck canceled so much on them at the start. Still does, they’ve just gotten used to it. At the time he’d been so jealous thinking he must have more fun parties or hot dates, but he probably was just going home to his son. Obviously childcare is an issue.

He wishes the kid had just opened his damn mouth about it. He remembers how rough it had been for Hen and Karen when they first adopted Denny. How it’s still difficult sometimes. They could have helped. Chim finally got the babysitting gig down. He has had practice.

It’s a bit of a mindfuck to have to reframe Buck from a frat boy to a teen parent. However, the pieces do fit in a way. The flashes of maturity, the way he can flip the switch to being responsible, the way he’s gold when there are kids on a scene.

So, yeah, Buck is a dad. That’s a little new.

But it’s only new to them, clearly it’s not new to Buck. Because when he’s done with his talk to Bobby he swoops back in, hauling Chris up over his shoulder as he says: “LAFD here to rescue you!” which makes Chris shriek with delight.

Buck puts him back down and ruffles his hair, matching big smile on his face. “Are you ready to look at the trucks now, Superman?”

“I am, I am,” Chris says, bouncing up and down.

“Alright, then, let’s get this show on the road,” Buck exclaims, gesturing for Chris to lead.

The four of them make their way downstairs, all of them smiling at Chris’s excitement at seeing the trucks. Despite being older than him, they all remember that same feeling from their first day.

It’s obvious that Buck takes much pride in his work and the fact that Chris thinks his career is cool. As he shows everything with much gravitas and importance, not to mention a matching thrilled sparkle in his eyes.

Chris gets to try on his helmet and sit in the rig, while Buck takes a billion pictures. After he’s snapped one in particular, he grins at Chris: “Daddy’s going to be so jealous of you, getting to sit in a real fire engine before him.”

“He will,” Chris grins slightly mischievously.

Behind the duo, both Chimney and Hen freeze. Daddy. There is a second parent involved. With what they know of Buck that is almost more unexpected than the kid thing.

Hen wonders if maybe the other dad is trans and it’s still what she first thought, while Chimney immediately grimaces. He doesn’t want to judge Buck too harshly, I mean, he didn’t for Hen, but it’s different with Buck. So, he can’t help but judge a little.

“Daddy?” Hen asks, deciding it’ll be better to just find out. If it puts Buck on the spot, they can pretend to buy whatever excuse he comes up with for now and interrogate him later.

“Uh-huh,” it’s Chris, who answers, “he’s becoming a firefighter like papi is!”

Buck on the other hand looks less enthusiastic and more like a deer in headlight, blinking two times, before quickly explaining: “Eddie is Chris’s dad – other dad. Bio dad? – uhm, he’s my husband, but we got married as friends. It’s a bit of a long story.”

“They made them kiss,” Chris informs the other two firefighters there a bit too gleefully. “It was really silly.”

“Chris was with us for the wedding,” Buck clarifies with a blush. “It’s a thing they expect you to do.”

Both of them just nod. Hen is sure that there is a much more detailed and much more stupid story there to explain all this, but honestly, she doesn’t feel like figuring it out. Chris is still right there and Buck looks like he’s going to kneel over if they ask more. She’ll wrangle it out of him when he’s had more time to get his head on right.

At that point the alarm goes off and Buck freezes a little. However, Bobby appears at the top of the stairs, about to go down the pole. Before he does, he calls out: “Buck, get yourself into gear. Kid’s coming with us.”

“Aye, aye, Cap,” Buck says, relieved to get some clarity. Then to Chris he goes: “You hear that, bud, you’re going to be a firefighter today.” Chris cheers. “Stay right there, okay, I’ll be with you soon,” Buck promises, before hurrying off to get into his gear.

When they’re driving to the accident, Chris has a thousand more questions and eagerly listens to all their answers and explanations. As well as to the little jabs and teases they throw at Buck. He takes them like a champ, rolling his eyes as he takes more pictures.

At the scene, Bobby sends Buck out there, keeping a close eye on Chris for him and walking the boy through everything that’s happening. He makes sure to pay extra close attention to Buck and explain what he is doing to Christopher.

Bobby tries not to, but he can’t help but wonder if Robert Jr. would have been equally as invested if he’d ever been able to go with him to work. He always misses his family, his kids, the most on days like these. On calls with kids, or when classes come in.

He puts it out of his mind though. Buck is closer to being his kid on most days and he has made some peace with it, even if he won’t acknowledge it yet. However, it makes it easier with Chris than with another kid. It doesn’t feel like he’s replacing his own, it’s a relationship he hasn’t had with anyone before yet. New is good.

After the call, Chris is in high spirits, excitedly rerunning every moment to everyone and asking more questions. He is very much Buck’s child. However, this also means he’s easily distracted by the video games they have and the pinball machine.

For a snack, Bobby asks if he liked one leftover in particular, making sure to whip that up, much to the boy’s delight.

By seeing Buck around Chris so much, it normalizes itself in their brains that Buck is a dad. The shock and newness wears off and they can appreciate this side of their probie they hadn’t seen before.

Buck is still basically an over excited puppy, but he matches Chris’s energy pretty well, never going further than he wants. He also has gotten the balance between letting Chris be independent and preventing him from doing something dangerous down to a science.

It’s very interesting to see traits they know he has being dialed up or down to suit this situation. How natural it looks on him, despite their previous assessment of him being a frat boy.

However, it’s also very obvious to all of them, that he is still a kid himself, raising another kid. None of them – bar Bobby – have a general idea of how long he’s been doing this, but they can all gather that Chris is older than most kids people Buck’s age have.

Of course he’s a firefighter, but he tosses Chris around like it’s nothing, keeping up easily with his boundless energy, and saying stuff like: “High five, Superman!” when Chris tells Chimney that his movie quote was weird.

All in all, Chris is having a blast and so is the 118.

They’re all helping Chris slide down the pole, grinning as he goes, when a brown haired man comes wandering into the firehouse. He stops short when he sees the whole spectacle, then smiles.

Out of everyone there, only Hen has spotted him. At first she thinks he might need help, but they have to focus on Chris’s safety first. However, when she sees him stopping to watch, she knows that must be Eddie. Buck mentioned them getting married as friends, but looking at him smiling at Chris and Buck, she doesn’t know how much truth there was to that.

Her theory that this is Eddie is confirmed when Chris is safely on the ground. Buck is grinning down at him, not paying attention to anything else. Then Chris spots Eddie and smiles widely: “Daddy!”

“Hey, buddy,” Eddie smiles back.

Buck immediately turns to look at him, a love struck look coming on his face when he says: “Eddie, hey!”

Fucking hell, she was so right that there is a much more detailed and much more stupid story there. It is obvious to her that if these two are married as friends, they’re both lying to the other and maybe to themselves about it.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie greets back unnecessarily. “You two look like you are having fun.”

“We are,” Chris answers for them, bouncing up and down. “I got to try on papi’s helmet and sit in the rig and then we went to this crash and the sirens were on. We had these headsets and I got to see papi work. He saved this lady from her car. It was so cool!”

“That sounds very cool,” Eddie tells him, the utter adoration for his son clear in his eyes. He cards his hands through Chris’s hair and hugs him close.

While that happens, Buck has also come to circle the two of them. He says: “I thought tía Pepa was taking him today. You’re here early. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Eddie assures him. “Instructor let us go early today. I think he’s getting soft on us.”

“Pff, of course. LA training is soft on you all,” Buck teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes, apparently familiar with this particular taunt as he replies: “Here we go again. Let me guess, in Texas they forced you all to sweat through it like tough guys.”

“You got it,” Buck grins. “Anyway, I’m being rude. This here is Bobby, my Captain.”

Bobby steps forward, shaking Eddie’s hand as he says: “I’m Eddie Diaz, it’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” Bobby smiles. “And no need for sir. Just Bobby is fine.”

“This here is Hen and Chimney,” Buck moves on introducing both.

They shake Eddie’s hand too, telling him it’s nice to meet him while he returns the sentiment, though he adds: “It’s so nice to put a face to the names,” as he does. Whatever hiding Buck was doing, it was a one sided hiding act. However, none of them mention it. Not in front of Chris.

“So,” Buck claps his hands. “Did you come for a tour of the trucks too? I told Chris all the facts, he could probably give you a great tour. You know, since he’s been in an actual rig.”

“You’re full of it,” Eddie tells him, but he’s smiling too much to mean it.

“I know,” Buck replies simply and Hen wonders if they know they’re flirting.

Before either can figure that out, however, Chris tugs on Eddie’s hand, pleading: “Please, daddy, I can show you everything. There are loops on the hoses, just like papi said. Do they teach you that too?”

Eddie looks a little caught out, trapped between Chris and the 118. Carefully he says: “I’d love to, mijo, but papi and his team have people to save and help. We should give them space to work.”

“It’s okay,” Bobby says, before Chris can even pout properly. Much like his papi, Chris has got him wrapped around his little finger. “We have the house on low priority calls for the time being. You staying a little longer won’t be an issue.”

“You’re sure?” Eddie checks anyway.

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says, before turning to Chris: “Well, then I would love a tour.”

Excitedly Chris directs Eddie to the trucks, telling him everything he’s just learned, while Buck chimes in from time to time with other tidbits or words Chris has forgotten. Throughout it all, Eddie listens with great pleasure. He’s clearly not as much of a talker, but it seems Chris and Buck more than make up for that.

While they all watch the family from the sidelines, Chimney asks: “So, does anyone know more about what their deal is?”

Bobby – the savior with actual information – answers: “From what I understand, they got married after Chris’s mom walked out so Buck could be there when Eddie had to go back into the military. They’ve been living together for three years, married two.”

Chimney whistles lowly, then checks: “And we all heard him say they’re married as friends, right?”

“Oh yes, we did,” Hen replies, sounding a little pained.

Next to her, Chimney cocks his head, watching Buck and Eddie bump shoulders every time they walk, because there is no space between them. Slowly, he asks: “And… are we… believing that?”

“Oh, definitely not,” Hen says.

“Come on, guys. Let’s not speculate too much. Buck hasn’t been comfortable sharing, we should respect that,” Bobby butts in, trying to be the responsible Captain.

That earns him a double judgmental look from both Chimney and Hen, before they ignore them and turn back to their conversation. “I don’t think Buck would do the whole sleeping around like that thing, if they were actually already together,” Hen says.

“So, we’re betting on pining.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, they’ve already been doing this for three years… That denial runs deep.”

“Yeah, it definitely does,” Hen agrees. “Did Buck mention anything about their communication to you, Bobby?”

Bobby sighs and rubs his brow, then decides he’s really no better than either of them. So, he admits: “It is their plan to divorce one day, but Buck hasn’t talked about it yet, because he fears Eddie will just cut him out.”

“…Now I don’t know if I should laugh at him or feel a deep sympathy,” Hen comments with a jikes grimace on her face.

“I told him to talk to Eddie about it. Clear the air,” Bobby offers.

“Twenty dollars on them figuring it out when Buck brings it up,” Chimney says confidently. “There is no way, Eddie is going to not kiss him about that.”

“Hmm, I don��t know.” Hen appraises Eddie again, squinting as she tries to get a read on him. “Twenty on them not figuring it out for another three years. And another forty on them never getting divorced.”

“Uhm, you can’t bet on things that are basically facts,” Chimney complains.

“Hey, you don’t know that!” Hen exclaims, knowing he is right, but she doesn’t care if it’ll get her forty dollars. They’ve been eyeing new cutlery.

“Ugh, fine! But I’d like it on the record that I protested it and I want my counter bet to be that they do a vow renewal instead,” Chimney says.

“Alright, deal,” Hen nods, shaking Chimney’s hand as they seal the deal.

They all return to watching the three at the trucks again. Buck has lifted Chris onto his shoulders, so he can properly point at all the things he’s talking about. Eddie is listening to him, sure, but he is definitely more focused on Buck.

After a few beats, Chimney wonders: “Hey, now that we know Buck adopted Chris and they met a few years ago. Do you all think there is some truth to him snatching Chris story?”

“God, I fucking hope not.” … “Five bucks says there is.”

“Ten says it’s an exaggeration.”

They shake on it.

“Fuck it,” Bobby mutters, then says: “Five on it being wilder than that.”

They shake with Bobby too, then wait until the tour is done. They haven’t gotten to speak with Eddie much, but it’s okay. Everyone has gotten the chance to observe him and he seems nice and polite when they say goodbye.

Buck stands there like a mom on the very first day of school, waving at them until they disappear when they do leave. The others kindly do not call him out on it. There is a bet now, so no interfering.

Still, the only reason they don’t ask, probably actually is because the alarm starts ringing so they have to go and focus on an emergency instead of Buck’s newly revealed private life.

Throughout the course of their shift, they do learn more details about how Buck got into that situation. When he tells them about dating Eddie’s ex-wife and meeting her while she shopped for eggs, is something they have a fucking filed day with. And it earns both Hen and Bobby some money.

They also learn about Eddie’s chopper getting shot down and Buck nursing him back to health. He chokes up a bit there and Hen rubs his shoulder.

As she does, she feels a little bad about the self satisfied grin she tucks away. If they can go through that and not confess, she was definitely right in placing her money on three years.

However, overall, it doesn’t change too much.

Still, when Buck comes in for his next shift, they all eagerly turn to him, wondering if he’ll turn back into over-sharer Buck now that the cat’s out of the bag. They need to know more about this nonsense he found himself in.

Buck does not disappoint. He eagerly hollers: “Eddie is not going to divorce me!” which turns the heads of everyone who hadn’t been there last shift. Seems like Buck is going to have to explain it all over again. And the betting pool will grow. Hen is so getting that new cutlery.

A/N:

Credit to Memememe8989, who suggested this idea in the comments, I had a different idea that is somewhat related to this (which granted, I might still write), but this was just so iconic that it immediately gave my brainworms <333

Llsdkghdhkf there was so no reason for Buck to do pretend to have kidnapped Chris, but the idea was just too funny and you can’t tell me he wouldn’t in his awkward insecurity

The full phone convo for those curious:

B: “Eddie? Hi, yeah, Pepa said she called you.”

E: “She texted me to call you. Is everything okay?”

B: “Everything’s fine. Abuela’s not feeling well, so she dropped Chris off here, until her workday is done.”

E: “And is that okay? I don’t want you to get in trouble of this.”

B: “Uh, yeah, that’s okay. Everyone here is super nice and helpful. Bobby says we can figure something out. So, I’ll keep him for now, no worries. We’ll look at the trucks and he’ll be thrilled. You just focus on training, I doubt your instructor will be pleased with you taking calls like this or missing out.”

E: “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

B: “No problem. We’re a team remember. Bye.”

E: “I do. Still, thanks. Bye.”

58 notes · View notes

faretheeoscar · 3 months ago

Note

OH MY FREAKKK?!

Little baby Poe has my heart :(

Would you consider writing something for little Poe and little reader meeting when they're young? Maybe in kindergarten, reader is more 'rough-and-tumble' than Poe is, getting dirty, climbing up trees, not bothered by pain. A shy Poe really wants to make friends with her but one day at kindergarten, he finds that her family have moved, which upsets him, but the two meet again when they're fighting in the rebellion?

Anyways, I fucking adored baby Poe, I love absolutely everything you write, have a great rest of your day! Huzzah!

Hey noonie! First of all thank you so much for your support! Your kind words mean a lot to me! I kinda went crazy with your request and ended up writing an almost 4k thing, but baby Poe just kept speaking to me! This AU has a hold on my brain and doesn’t let it rest. Had lots of fun making this request!

Thanks again and Happy Poevember!

Roots of the Resistance

Join the TagList! • Main Masterlist • Fics Masterlist • Buy me a coffee! • Linktree

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

--Warnings: none, just fluffy baby Poe!--

A/N: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there’s any mistakes.

Word count: 4k

In the quiet corner of a little kindergarten on Yavin IV, five-year-old Poe Dameron sits cross-legged, watching as you—the new kid—scale the tallest tree on the playground. Your elbows are scraped, and your knees are dirt-streaked, but you don’t seem to mind at all. You’re perched up high, legs swinging as if you’ve done this a hundred times. With bright eyes and a hint of hesitation, Poe clutches his favourite stuffed tooka doll, Captain Fluff, close to his chest, feeling something between awe and curiosity.

The droid teacher nudges him gently. “You need to make friends Poe, your father gave us instructions for us to encourage you into socialising with the other younglings, why don’t you go say hi?”

Poe glances down, feeling a bit of nervousness, he is not usually the type of kid that’s quiet, or shy around people, he’s always active at home, bouncing eagerly from place to place talking the ears off all the adults he has around, but ever since his mom had been going on missions, he had been having trouble adjusting and talking especially to the other kids that didn’t get him, being enclosed in his fantasy world on fighting for the cause, and just depending on his favourite buddy, Fluff.

Taking a deep breath, he adjusts his grip on Captain Fluff and walks toward the tree. Shyly, he looks up at you, your hair wild and your hands smudged with playground dirt, as you look down with a big, welcoming grin.

“Hi,” he says, his voice small but warm.

“Hi!” you call down, eyes twinkling. You don’t seem surprised to see him, as if you were expecting him to join you, after all you’ve noticed he’d been staring at you for a while now. “You wanna come up?”

Poe’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing pink as he fumbles for words, his little foot nervously tapping the ground, shifting back and forth. “Oh, I… um, not really I was just… wondering what you were doing up there.” He points up, his head tilted back to see you better. “Doesn’t it, you know… feel kinda high?”

You laugh, swinging your legs as you peer down at him. “It’s awesome up here! You can see everything. Like the ships outside the fence,” you say, pointing excitedly to the sky. “When they fly by, it’s like you’re right there with them! Makes me feel like I’m up close to them.”

Poe’s eyes light up, his fear of talking to you, forgotten for a moment. Ships! A topic he is familiar with and can talk about them for hours. “You can see the spaceships… up close?”

“Uh-huh!” you reply with a proud grin. “Come on up, I’ll show you. It’s easy,” you say, reaching down and motioning him to grab the branch.

Feeling an excited flutter in his stomach, Poe puts Captain Fluff under one arm, holding on tight as he tentatively grabs the lowest branch. He starts climbing, a little unsteady, and hesitates when the tree starts to feel taller. You notice his pause, lean down, and give his arm a firm yank to help him up the next branch. He nearly laughs at your outburst of strength, and, before he knows it, he’s sitting beside you, feet dangling in the air.

“There, see?” You point beyond the playground fence, where ships take off and land in the nearby port, and Poe’s jaw drops, watching with wide eyes. The ships look like little metal birds in the distance, zooming by against the sky.

“Whoa… you were right!” he whispers, barely able to contain his amazement. “I’ve never seen them from here before. You can even see them getting ready for takeoff!”

As Poe settles into his spot next to you on the branch, he glances over, gathering his courage to introduce himself.

“I’m… I’m Poe. Poe Dameron,” he says shyly, his cheeks already turning pink. He glances away, quickly looking back up at you. “What’s your name?”

When you introduce yourself Poe repeats your name quietly to himself, as if savouring it. He whispers, as if it’s the most beautiful name in the world… (besides his mom’s obviously). He smiles, then blushes even more, his cheeks burning as he realises you’re watching him. “I think… I think it’s a really nice name,” he adds, glancing shyly at the leaves overhead.

“Thanks,” you say with a big smile, two of your front baby teeth missing from having fallen out recently. “I think Poe’s a cool name too.” When you take a closer look at him, you notice he’s holding something safely under his arm— a handmade doll with white ears and an orange body.

“Hey, who’s this?” you ask, leaning over to get a closer look at the stuffed tooka doll.

Poe’s shyness returns briefly, but he grins, holding out the doll for you to see. “This is Captain Fluff,” he says, his voice suddenly a little more confident. “He’s, uh… he’s my copilot! He goes on all the missions with me.”

You grin excitedly, “Really? You go on missions with him?” With a serious nod, you reach out and gently shake Captain Fluff’s little paw. “Nice to meet you, Captain Fluff, I bet you’re a great pilot.”

Poe beams, clearly delighted that you took Captain Fluff so seriously. “He’s the best,” he says, hugging the tooka doll close. “He always makes sure I’m safe.”

The two of you sit together in the tree, feet swinging as you trade stories about space adventures you’d both want to go on. He learns that you are all about exploring and learning about “vantage points” or all those big words your dad uses when he works on reconnaissance. Poe feels a new kind of bravery here, sitting high up with his new friend, talking about adventure and far-off galaxies. It’s the start of something he is sure he will remember forever.

The weeks that follow your first meeting turn into a whirlwind of adventures for Poe and you. Poe, who once hovered quietly at the edge of the playground, now spends every recess chasing after you like an eager shadow, his shy smile lighting up whenever you invite him on your latest scheme. Whether it’s scaling the school’s low fences to chase after a lizard crab or daring each other to swing as high as possible, Poe is always at your side, wide-eyed and ready to be brave.

You show him how to climb trees without slipping, leap across muddy puddles without falling, and you help him to face up his fear of leviathan grubs, by using a stick and practically shoving it up to his face for him to see the little worm, you tell him they seem harmless but they are fearless predators when they grow up, but one that’s little as the one on your stick? Your loth cat devours them for lunch. Together, you also build forts out of fallen branches, Poe declares you as his “official lieutenant” of your own makeshift Alliance. Every day with you feels like a new mission, a new world to explore.

One afternoon after school, you and Poe are out exploring, looking for the perfect place to keep on practising “drills”. As you wander near the edge of the old market, you spot some ruins, crumbling and hidden beneath layers of overgrown vines and moss. The walls rise higher than anything you’ve climbed before, making it the ultimate challenge in your eyes.

“This is it,” you say, grinning. “This is going to be the hardest climb yet, Commander Poe. We’ve got to face it if we want to be ready for anything.” You point at the jagged edges of the stone wall, feeling the rush of excitement build up inside you. “It’s going to be tough, but that’s what makes it perfect for ‘recon.’”

Poe hesitates, glancing up at the ruins. His eyes widen with both excitement and nerves. “But… are we allowed to be up there?” he asks, looking around as if expecting someone to stop you.

You give him a sly grin. “Who’s going to stop us? Come on, Poe, don’t chicken out now. This is the ultimate challenge! If we can climb this, then we can face anything.” You nudge him with your shoulder. “I’m doing it—are you?”

Poe looks unsure for a moment but then puffs out his chest, trying to look braver. “I’m not a chicken,” he says, his voice a little shaky but determined.

“Prove it,” you challenge, offering him your hand. “Boost you up first?”

With a deep breath, Poe nodes, taking your hand. You help him up to the first ledge, encouraging him with every step. He climbs higher, using your tips for where to put his hands and feet. When he reaches the top, his eyes widen with pride. “I did it!” he cheers, a bit breathless looking down at you with a grin, lending his hand to you to take, tugging you up towards him, as you did the first time you helped him climb the tree at school. “Told you I was no chicken!”

You both bicker and chuckle for a while, treading dangerously on the ledge of the walls until the path narrows, you both decide to go back, but just as he’s about to climb down first, you both freeze. You hear voices on the other side of the ruins. Slowly, you both peek over the top and spot something unexpected: Kes, Poe’s dad, and your dad, alongside other adults standing together, looking over some papers and talking in hushed voices.

Poe’s face drops as he freezes, realising you’ve stumbled into a place you weren’t supposed to be. The two of you exchange a quick, worried glance, but before you can move, Kes looks up and catches your eye. His expression shifts from surprise to something a little more serious.

“What are you two doing up there?” he calls, crossing his arms.

Caught red-handed, Poe scrambles down, his face flushed with guilt. “We… uh… we were just doing some recon, Dad,”

Kes gives him a pointed look, his eyes narrowing. “Recon? Is that what you’re calling it?” He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re too high up. If you fell… Poe, you’re not just putting yourself at risk, you’re dragging others into trouble too. You know better than this.”

Poe’s shoulders slump, his stomach twisting as the words sink in. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he mutters, his voice barely audible as he avoids eye contact.

With a defiant grin, you think you can make things better, unbothered by the mild scolding of Poe’s dad, you try to speak for the both of you. “We were just training to look out for Empire spies,” you explain with a serious nod. “Poe and I have been training hard to be ready!”

Your dad steps forward, his arms crossed and his face hard with disapproval.“Enough excuses,” he says firmly. “You two. Climb down. Now.” His tone is firm, making it clear he’s not happy about this either.

The weight of his voice leaves no room for argument, and with a sigh, you carefully follow Poe’s lead, your heart heavy as you descend. Once you’re both on the ground, your dad grips your arm, his gaze stern. “We’ll talk about this at home,you’re in deep trouble.” he says evenly, the promise of consequences hanging in the air.

As you’re led away, you glance back at Poe, who lingers for a moment, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head hanging low. He manages a small, sad smile, lifting a hand in a subdued wave. You return the gesture, your own heart sinking under the weight of guilt and frustration.

Despite everything, the unspoken understanding between you lingers, a quiet reassurance that, no matter the scolding, you’ll both bounce back from this together.

After the incident, the weekend passes, and even though you were both grounded for what you did, Poe knows that he’d continue following you everywhere, eager to learn from you. Even if he’s a little nervous, he finds himself braver each time, when he’s with you, taking bigger leaps, climbing higher places, and facing every little “danger” you point out. For Poe, every scraped knee and every muddy shoe feels worth it, as long as you’re there beside him, his lieutenant and best friend.

When Poe arrives at kindergarten in the morning with a bright smile, he’s very eager to tell you about the spaceship toy his mom had sent him alongside a cargo that came to the rebel post. But when he reaches the classroom, his smile falters. Your usual seat by the window is empty, your backpack and coat nowhere in sight. His heart pounds as he looks around, waiting to see you run in late, maybe with a story about an adventure you had on the way to school, maybe you also have something to show him and are just teasing his nerves, making him wait for your arrival at the last minute.

But… you don’t come.

The teacher eventually explains to him that you and your family had to move away suddenly. The words feel heavy, and Poe’s small hands grip the straps of his jacket as his bottom lip wobbles. He doesn’t fully understand why you had to leave or where exactly “away” is, but he knows it’s far enough that you won’t be coming back.

The following days are quiet. He drifts through recess and playtime without his usual spark, his gaze inevitably straying to the tree where you once perched together, where you’d both laughed and schemed like rebels in training.He thinks about the fact that you’re gone, maybe its his fault? Maybe he could’ve stand up for you in front of your dad, maybe that way you would’ve stayed, if you’d both hadn’t gone snooping around, maybe you’d still be with him.

Poe’s little cheeks are stained with tears and he spends more time holding Captain Fluff close, as if the little tooka doll might somehow fill the gap of your absence. At home, he tries to keep up with the “missions” you once led, braving solo ventures to his backyard and recreating your adventures, but the thrill fades faster than he expects.

In time, Poe will come to recognize these memories as something precious, realising how they’ve embedded a spark of adventure within him, a piece of you that remains despite your absence. The small voice you planted in him—an urge to climb higher, to be braver, and to dream bigger—will stay with him, shaping his path forward. He doesn’t know it now, but those days, even the bittersweet ones, will linger within him for years to come, forming a quiet foundation for the hero he’ll one day become.

Years later, Poe stands in the middle of the busy Resistance base, his mind laser-focused on the upcoming mission briefings, the endless tactical updates, and the hum of pilots and soldiers passing by. He’s been on countless missions, and by now, the routine has become second nature—preparing his X-wing, checking the systems, reviewing the intel. His concentration is unwavering as a Resistance officer details the mission ahead, highlighting enemy positions and strategic points of interest. Poe nods along, mentally mapping out the path, fine-tuning his plan.

But then, across the room, something, no someone, catches his eye.

Amidst the bustle of soldiers and pilots, talking with another Resistance pilot, is someone he feels he recognizes. His gaze sharpens, as he takes in the details—the shape of their features, the fierce but familiar set of their jaw, the gleam in their eyes that’s both determined and a little mischievous. There’s something about them, something he can’t quite place, but it stirs something in him—like the flicker of an old memory, buried deep. He watches for a moment, distracted from the briefing, trying to piece it all together.

It’s only when the officer calls his name, snapping him back to the present, that he realises he’s been staring. He shakes his head, refocusing on the mission details, but the pull of that familiar presence lingers. His curiosity gnaws at him. After a few more moments, he can’t resist and excuses himself and jogs towards the other side of the hangar.

“Hey,” he says, almost breathless, a soft smile growing as he studies your face more closely. And then, with a look of realisation, he knows it—it’s you. It’s really you. “Tree climber, is that you?”

You blink, momentarily surprised, and then a laugh escapes you. “Wait—tooka doll kid?”

Poe’s face goes crimson, his bravado faltering as he clears his throat. “I, uh—yeah, that’d be me,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “But, hey, I’ve got a name too, you know. Poe Dameron. Just Poe is fine, though.” he adds, his tone half-proud, half-nervous.

You chuckle softly. “Of course, Poe Dameron, I remember,” you tease, because of course you knew who he was. “Can’t believe you’ve gone from the shy, tooka doll kid that used to follow me everywhere, to being the poster boy for the Resistance.” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “Guess you really did become all important.”

Poe grins, his face flushing slightly, though he tries to hide it behind a chuckle. “Well, guess someone’s gotta lead the way, right?” he says, the cocky edge creeping back into his voice.

The two of you laugh quietly together, and Poe’s heart feels like it’s soaring, even within the chaos of the base. His gaze lingers on you as he shakes his head in awe. “Wow... look at you,reconnaissance now, huh?” He recognizes the badge on your arm and chuckles, eyes crinkling. “Just like your dad, and it tracks. You always did love exploring the uncharted.”

You smile, leaning in a little closer, your gaze wandering over him as you take in his strong features, the way his dark curls fall just over his forehead, and that lopsided, boyish grin that’s still the same as it was when you were kids. And those dimples—those same little dimples—are still there, deepening as he smiles at you.

“And you, a squad leader,” you counter back with a teasing smirk. “Not bad, Dameron.” You don’t tell him, but ever since you got assigned that week to move to the Yavin base, you’d hoped you’d bump into him somehow—just to admire him in his element, the confident leader of the Resistance.

Poe’s eyes drop for a moment, a small blush creeping up his neck, getting nervous as your steady gaze studies him, same way it did when you were kids, never faltering. Neither of you speak, taking in the almost surreal reunion.

Suddenly, he’s not sure what to do with himself. His gaze drifts over you as if seeing you for the first time. After all, it is the first time he sees you in your adult life. You're standing there, strong, poised in your uniform, that looks somehow both formidable and very fitting on you. But there’s something else—something about the way you carry yourself, the way the light catches your eyes, the quiet confidence in your stance. He catches his breath, his heart racing just a little as he takes you in, the same person from all those years ago but somehow... different. Gorgeous, even.

For a moment, he forgets how to speak. He’s pulled from his thoughts only when he realises he's been staring too long, he shakes himself back into reality, glancing up at you with a slight cough, trying to act nonchalant.

“You… you look good,” he says quickly, his voice a little unsteady. He clears his throat again, adding with a nervous laugh, “I mean—uh, well… you know. For someone in the Resistance uniform, I mean– this is not going very well is it?” His words stutter out as his hand rubs the back of his neck, but it only makes you chuckle.

“Smooth as always.” You shake your head in amusement at his flustered response.

Poe watches you for a moment longer, his heart still racing from the mix of nostalgia and admiration. As you catch his gaze, a warmth spreads across your cheeks, and you quickly look down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The way he was looking at you made you realise just how much you had missed him—more than you were prepared to admit. But you shake off the fluttering feeling in your chest and decide to change the subject.

"So, uh... are you leaving soon for a mission?" you ask, your voice a little steadier than you feel. You focus on looking at Poe's forehead instead of his eyes, hoping that the lack of eye contact convinces your brain and distracts it enough for you not to make a fool of yourself, and avoid the heat that just started creeping up your cheeks.

Poe, still a little flushed himself, gives you a sheepish grin. "Yeah, actually, in a couple of hours," he says, eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks. "Lots of pre-flight checks and intel stuff to go through before I head out."

You nod, your mind briefly flashing back to the way he used to prepare for missions as a kid, always following your lead, but the first to volunteer for anything daring. "Sounds like you're always on the go," you tease gently.

Poe chuckles, his gaze softening as he looks down, his foot nervously tapping the ground, shifting back and forth, things never change.

"Well, you know me—always got something to do. But hey..." He pauses for a moment, looking at you with a slight hesitation, then asks, “Hey, after the mission and after I’m off patrol… would you want to grab a drink? Maybe catch up?”

You blink in surprise, a smile tugging at your lips, and for a moment, you can’t quite believe this is happening. Poe Dameron, the fearless pilot and Resistance leader, asking you to catch up. You might have been his childhood friend for a hot moment, but this still feels unreal, you shrug off the doubt and look him in the eye. "Actually..." you start, the idea suddenly sparking in your mind, "how about I suggest something a little more fitting?"

You step a little closer to him, eyes gleaming with a playful challenge. You point off into the distance, toward a towering tree at the far end of the base. "You see that tree?" you ask. "Right there, just on the far end of the base. It's pretty tall... you can see it from a long way off."

Poe follows the direction of your finger, his curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I see it. Pretty big for sure. What about it?"

You smile, leaning in just a bit, as if sharing a secret. "Been meaning to climb it," you say. "And I might need help doing it. So, would that be something that interests you?"

Poe grins, the idea instantly catching fire in his mind. "Climbing a tree?" he laughs, "You know, we're not kids anymore. I don't think this is exactly your idea of a good time as an adult, is it?"

You raise an eyebrow, the challenge in your tone still there as you look at him. "Oh, I don't know, what, you’re gonna chicken out on me, Dameron?"

Poe's grin widens, his chest puffing up as he shakes his head. "Not a chance. I’m not a chicken," he says with mock indignation. "I’ll show you just how not a chicken I am."

"Rendezvous by the tallest tree, then?"

Poe’s grin only grows wider as he gives you a mock salute. "Copy that, Lieutenant." He teases and makes you both laugh again. “I gotta go, but I’ll meet you when I get back.” With a quick glance back, he turns to leave, heading off to prepare for the mission ahead.

As he walks away, his heart feels lighter, his steps more purposeful. The collision of his past and present has left him feeling more confident, as if something has shifted in him. He’s reminded of the person he used to be as a kid—the one who faced challenges with a grin and a sense of adventure, rather than the constant tension and weight of responsibility that so often clouded his thoughts.

But now, with you back in his life, that spark of his younger self is rekindled. He finds himself looking forward to returning to base, eager to pick up where you both left off…

Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated!

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81 notes · View notes

marlynnofmany · 10 months ago

Text

Not Special, Part Two

(Part One is here)

Oscar Tennyson grabbed his purchases and hurried after the rest of his crew. As usual, they were walking quickly on their longer legs and bellowing for him to keep up. The teeth-and-scales Mighty had no patience for human weaknesses. Of which there were many.

But, as Oscar had just learned, there were some strengths as well. And he couldn’t wait to show them.

He scampered onboard before the door shut, wondering if they would actually leave without him if he dawdled too long. Probably not — who would handle their finances and hunting permits? They’d have to hire someone else, because they certainly didn’t want to do it themselves. But he didn’t want to test that.

He had much better things to test. While the stark metal walls vibrated with the engine’s revs, Oscar wove between scaled biceps and tails to his own quarters. He pressed the panel by the door, which was oversized and cracked like all of them on this ship. The Mighty were not fans of fiddly little buttons or keys. Not when they could have panels big enough to punch, which only broke sometimes.

When Oscar stepped through and closed the door behind him, he felt immediately relieved. This was his private space to decorate as he chose, without worrying that someone would take things down or make fun of him. Ship rules were clear about personal quarters. Oscar’s fake orchids and real cactus made the room homey, along with more posters than the walls could hold. They spilled onto the ceiling, lining it with nature scenes from Earth, sports figures he admired, media announcements, and a good number of fluffy kittens. This was the one spot on the ship where he could feel comfortable, and he was making the most of it.

The bag of refueling station supplies crinkled as he set it on his small table to remove the contents. A high-end store might have had Waterwill bags that evaporated after a day, but this place used regular old plastic. Inside were food cubes, bottled water, and the purchase he was most excited about: six cans of very weak caffeine.

He scanned the label. It was just like the other human had said. Tall cans in dramatic colors, but not much of substance inside. At least, not as far as the average human was concerned.

Oscar couldn’t wait until dinner time.

Before then, he had a permit to submit and several other things to check. The ship should be on the way to Argosha, which was notorious for welcoming outsiders in to hunt the Dagger Birds that were giving everyone so much trouble, but he had better get their paperwork in order anyway.

He grabbed his tablet and left his safe haven, heading back into the public parts of the ship where he could face taunts from any direction. Really, these guys were just like his cousins. At least it was familiar.

Fending off tiresome conversation — “How’s the weather down there?” “Why don’t you ask your mother?” —he reached the bridge and found a corner to stand in. The captain and the pilot were arguing about where to land when they reached Argosha.

“The main site will have more people to admire our ship!”

“The new one is closer to the hunting grounds!”

“Dagger Birds are overrunning the place; everywhere is a hunting ground!”

“Do you want to pay the damages for shooting a building instead of a bird? We can take it all out of your pay, if you want!”

“Fine, but if we land on some overgrown hedge and the ship is scratched, you get to pay for that!”

“Fine!”

The pair of them stopped yelling and sat back in their seats as if nothing at all was the matter, because it wasn’t. Polite disagreements were always held at that volume.

In the brief lull while the pilot manipulated the controls with more force than a lesser console could withstand, Oscar spoke up. “I’d like to come too.”

Both dinosaurian heads turned to stare at him in surprise. “Why?” the captain demanded. “One kick from a bird, and you’re useless to us.”

“Thanks,” Oscar said flatly. “I’ll keep out of the way. I want to take photos of your fighting prowess; I should be able to sell them.”

Both of the Mighty preened at that, as he’d known they would. Ego was big here. The captain agreed, and Oscar didn’t let slip any hints of his secret plan. He just finished working on his tablet, then retreated to his quarters to practice Dagger Bird mating calls.

The air on Argosha was breathable but hot, at least this part of it. Oscar was ready with his Tool in his pocket. (He’d gotten out of the habit of calling it a phone, since the Mighty were right in that it did a near-infinite number of things.) (He still smirked quietly at the potential innuendo, but it was a conversation he didn’t really want to have with giant dinosaur aliens, so he kept that to himself.)

“This way,” announced the captain, pointing in what looked like an arbitrary direction into the wilderness. Whooping with the alien equivalent of testosterone, the crew raised their blasters and tromped off the landing pad with Oscar following close behind.

True to his word, he did take some pictures as he went. But he was waiting for his moment.

It didn’t take long to come. The shouting scared off all the wildlife, then the Mighty found a boulder to crouch behind and wait for the creatures to come back. They played a silent counting game to see who was best at guessing when they’d spot something worth killing.

Distant footsteps on leaves made them smack each other in excitement, but nothing appeared between the trees.

Now or never, Oscar thought. Knowing better than to startled his crewmates, he whispered, “Here, let me.” Then he took a deep breath and let loose with his best imitation of a Dagger Bird seeking a mate. “Woarrrrrrk!”

While the Mighty shushed him and wondered what he was doing and started to figure it out, an answering woarrk sounded from nearby.

Then another, then, three.

Oscar wondered if he’d overplayed his hand.

No less than five large and eager Dagger Birds crashed through the undergrowth at once, croaking and flapping, taking offense at each other’s presence. The Mighty all roared and leapt out, firing in every direction.

Oscar dashed for a tree he’d been eyeing, the one with lots of branches, and didn’t stop climbing until he was out of beak-stabbing range. He held tight to the trunk, catching his breath and watching the chaos. Belatedly, he remembered to take out his Tool and snap some photos.

This was actually a good angle. He got a great shot of the captain aiming down the throat of a wide-open beak, then another a split second later when the beak snapped shut inches from his head. Another of the engineer shooting one from beneath. Two of the pilot tackling the largest bird and sinking teeth into the back of its neck where it couldn’t reach to stab.

Other species did their trophy hunting from a distance. The Mighty liked the fight as much as the kill. Their blasters were set on a deliberately low setting, and their teeth were sharp.

Safe up in his tree, Oscar grimaced at how bloody things were getting down below. He yelled another bird call to distract the one about to spear the crewmate who’d been knocked to the ground, and he got a cheerful “Nice save by the little guy!” which was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. The crewmate scrambled up and bit off a chunk while the bird was distracted. A couple of the crew looked like they were bleeding their own blood, but most of it was coming from the Dagger Birds, which were just as stubborn as the stories had said. Not one of them ran off. The last to die fell on top of somebody, which just added laughter from the rest of the crew to the triumphant cheers.

Oscar took a picture of the bird being dragged off his disgraced crewmate. That photo he wouldn’t sell, but would keep as minor blackmail if he ever needed it. Sticking it up on the wall to remind everyone of this moment could be a valuable strategic move.

“We are the MIGHTY!” bellowed the captain, and the whole crew joined in with a deep-voiced cheer. Oscar climbed down to more approval than he’d gotten in the last month.

“Good work by our human here! Who knew you could do that?”

“That’s sure an efficient way to hunt!”

“We should bring you out every time. That was great.”

Oscar took the praise with pride, not bothering with modesty. That was just another word for weakness as far as these guys were concerned.

He managed to dodge when one of them made to slap him on the back with a large bloodstained hand, which just made them laugh more. Luckily the captain directed everybody to gather their kills for dragging back to the ship, rather than chasing the human and messing up his clothes.

Oscar took a position on the lowest branch of his tree, taking a couple more photos as the victorious hunters figured out how to get it all home. If anyone had asked Oscar, which they never would, he’d have suggested going back for a hovercart, or taking them one at a time. But of course they did neither.

Definitely the type to insist on carrying all the groceries in at once, Oscar thought as his crewmates strained to drag the giant carcasses through the undergrowth. He hopped down and kept pace out to the side where there was no blood on the leaves.

They finally made it back to the ship, doing nothing to clean up the smears of blood they left on the landing pad. Oscar darted off to his quarters as soon as the door opened. The rest of them could handle getting the birds into cryo storage, or chopped up right away, whichever they saw fit to do. The lowest-ranking one without significant injuries would be in charge of clearing the blood from the hallways, but only after they’d all taken a walk through the water-and-air blast chamber that passed for a shower here. It had always reminded Oscar of a car wash.

He kept to himself until dinner, sorting his photos while everyone else dealt with the catch and the mess and the injuries. The mechanical medsystem on this ship was just as efficient as the shower. They’d all be in decent shape by mealtime.

And mealtime after a successful hunt was also drinking time.

Oscar usually ate in his room, wanting nothing to do with the raucous meat-tearing and drunkenness. But today was different, because he’d learned something valuable about the liquid they were getting drunk off.

Oscar considered the cans he’d bought, then decided it would have more of an impact if he just took one of the communal supply. So instead he grabbed his new food cubes and a premade tin of spaghetti from his mini-cryo, and followed the sound of laughter.

They were already a little drunk when he got there. Sprawled across chairs with a table full of meat slabs spilling over the edges of the plates. And as expected, there were tall purple cans everywhere.

“Heyyyy, it’s the little guy! Let’s hear it for the human with the surprise talent! Maybe you’re not useless after all!”

“Thanks,” Oscar said as they pounded fists against anything in reach as a form of applause. He leaned against the open doorway and shuffled his belongings so he could get a fork in a meatball without setting down the food cubes. “That was pretty easy where I’m from. You guys really can’t do that?” He popped the meatball into his mouth, casual as you please.

The Mighty of course, thought this was funny, and took it in stride. More gulps from their drinks, more savage mouthfuls of food, and a few questions about the surely-excellent photos he’d gotten, which would make them all look amazing.

Oscar said he’d share the best ones. These would make fine decorations in their own quarters, and would probably be appreciated by the right paying audience.

Then came the moment he’d been waiting for. The captain raised his drink in another cheer, and somebody noticed that the human was the only one without a can in his hand.

“Get the human a warrior’s drink!”

“Bet you he passes out after one sip.”

“Nah, he can take at least two.”

Oscar smiled quietly. If they’d been paying attention, they might have changed their bets at that smile. He set his food down in the hallway to free his hands. When one muscular, taloned arm offered him a can of their most potent intoxicant, he took it. Oh so casually.

Then he whipped his head back and chugged the whole thing.

“Oh! Human’s gonna die!”

“I’m not cleaning up the puke!”

“What the supernova! There are better ways to go than that!”

“Somebody drag him to medical so we don’t have to find somebody else to do the boring stuff.”

“Yeah, he was just getting interesting.”

Oscar ignored all of them, giving the empty can a thoughtful look. It felt like the same thin aluminum he remembered from Earth. And if there was anything his cousins had taught him, it was the proper way to dispose of a beer can.

He dug his fingertips in and crushed it against his forehead. Then while the room reacted to that, he wiped off the drips and threw the can across the room. When it went into the trash on the first try, he was internally very glad, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he picked up his food and resumed eating. “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Is that what you guys have been getting drunk off? How quaint.”

“How in all the black holes—”

“No, he’s gonna fall over any second; just watch.”

“Quaint, that’s hilarious.”

“He’s totally bluffing. Just wait and see.”

Oscar was enjoying being the center of the crew’s attention today. He made a show of sweeping his eyes across the various cans in the room. “None of you has finished a can yet, I see. Was that supposed to be strong?”

There was widespread laughing and elbowing of each other, most of them still clearly convinced that the silly little human was going to throw up and die any second now.

So Oscar set down his food, walked over to the table, and chugged a second one. It was a bit more liquid than his stomach was really happy with, but that was a small price to pay for the uproar that followed.

They exclaimed; they renewed their bets; they drank from their own cans; they got visibly drunker and abandoned their bets.

Oscar leaned against the doorframe, eating spaghetti and food cubes.

After one particularly unsteady crewmate tripped onto the table full of meat, and someone pointed out that the human wasn’t wobbling at all, Oscar said, “You guys don’t know much about my species, do you? Half of what I eat would liquify your insides.” He held up a food cube, eyeing the different colored specks of all the ingredients that made it balanced for an omnivorous digestive system. He laughed. “You guys just eat meat. How boring!”

They only got drunker after that. Oscar was pretty sure that the nearest two wanted to pat him on the back, but the floor was moving too much for them to make it all the way to the doorway. Somebody offered him a raw slab of Dagger Bird. He turned it down with casual scorn.

“Nah, meat isn’t worth eating unless it’s passed through fire. That’s weakling meat you’ve got there. Get back to me when it’s cooked brown.”

They loved that. The party was an epic one, only winding down when most of the crew was too drunk to reach more drinks. Oscar demonstrated his steadiness by picking through the mess to drop his food containers in the trash, then move back to the door.

“Well, it’s been fun,” he said. “I’ll send in the med-drone to make sure nobody’s going to wake up dead. Let me know if you want to get your tails handed to you by any more Dagger Birds. I’ll call ‘em in close for you again.”

He got groggy approval to that.

Oscar left with a smile on his face, and a mild amount of caffeine in his blood. Maybe after stopping by the medcenter, he’d use that energy on some exercise. Thoughts of the run to the hunting grounds, and the way his crewmates had paced themselves, suggested that it wouldn’t take much practice for him to out-endurance the Mighty on the VR treadmill.

I wonder what else I can do?

~~~~~~~~~

By popular request, this is the sequel to the story I posted last week, which is part of the ongoing series of backstory for the main character in this book. (It started that way, at any rate, and turned into a sprawling series in its own right. Fun stuff.)

Patreon opens the day after tomorrow, on May 1st! There's a free tier and everything if you want to keep up without strings attached! And you can even request more delightful nonsense like this.

Onward!

#multiple people wanted to see what happened next #and who am I to say no to that?#this is twice as long as the first story #because I had to cover everything #three cheers for this guy and his newfound respect #not to mention self-confidence #I imagine the dynamic will be different the next time he visits home and interacts with his cousins #noogies from a frat bro is nothing when you've dealt with macho space dinosaurs #anyways; other tags:#humans are weird #hfy #haso #eiad #humans are space orcs #my writing #The Token Human #writeblr #looking forward to the Patreon you guys #it's gonna be great

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hugmekenobi · 9 months ago

Text

S3: The Bad Batch (12)

Chapter Twelve: Juggernaut

Gif by @azertyrobaz

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: The Batch seek out an unlikely ally to get you and Omega back. Meanwhile, you and Omega find out what's in store for you on Tantiss

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, me making up an SP number, humour used as a deflection tactic, Hunter losing it a bit, brief injury descriptions, threats, implications of torture, mentions of scars, Rampart, Hemlock being a creep, lotta angst,

Word Count: 5.7K

Author's notes: Had a bit of creative fun doing this episode but it should also hopefully feel like an angsty one lol

You braced yourself against the weather as you exited the ship.

The gusts of wind on Tantiss swept the steady drizzle of rain in a diagonal against your face.

You and Omega stopped just before Hemlock as he came to meet you both.

Then, a move occurred that genuinely surprised you.

In quick succession, the operative took Omega’s cuffs off and then did the same to yours before he took to his ship and left.

You and Omega massaged your wrists as you regarded the man ahead of you with suspicious curiosity.

“I trust we won’t have any issues with you and your… talents. Unless you want Omega to suffer the punishment for your disobedience?” Hemlock directed the question to you.

You knew that would be the card he would play, and it was a fucking effective one. “No issue.” You said tightly.

Hemlock nodded before he addressed both of you. “Turning yourselves over was a wise decision. Come with me.”

Omega glanced up at you, but you gave her a nod and the two of you slowly followed Hemlock inside.

The route to the lab had not left Omega’s memory and she recognised the familiar corridors that Hemlock led you both through, although the heightened stormtrooper presence was new.

“Bring the Jedi to the cell we arranged below but keep her away from the vault. She and Omega are not to be together.” Hemlock directed the group of troopers that approached as you all came to a halt outside the lab doors.

Your head snapped over to Hemlock as you heard that.

Omega frantically looked between you and Hemlock. “No!” She shouted.

You saw the group of troopers moving in on you. You called on the Force and pushed them further down the corridor and smacked them into the wall, but you couldn’t do anything more than that. You couldn’t risk Hemlock punishing Omega.

You saw another squad closing in.

You had to let them take you.

Omega looked up at you, tears in her eyes. “They can’t take you! I won’t let them!” Omega turned to Hemlock but all she saw on his face was a cruel sneer. “Please-”

You wouldn’t have her begging that man for anything. You bent down and hugged Omega tight to your chest. Do what you need to do to get outta here. I’ll see you again. You don’t worry about me. You said hurriedly as you felt numerous hands grab you and yank you away from her.

The butt of a blaster smacked against your temple, making you lightheaded and your body more compliant with the soldiers as they pulled you down the corridor.

“No!” Omega fought against the strong grip a trooper took of her shoulder and she couldn’t free herself. But they couldn’t stop her words.

“Bring her back!”

“No! We stay together!”

“Let me go!”

“Stop!” That was the last thing she was able to say before she was dragged into the lab.

Omega’s fading cries were all that echoed through your head as the troopers dragged you away and through another maze of levels and hallways.

Emerie had heard the commotion outside, and she saw the fear and sadness on Omega’s face as she entered but she had to hide her lingering discomfort as Hemlock brought her over. The small smirk that graced Hemlock’s face did not escape her though.

“Begin testing her at one. I want confirmation.” Hemlock ordered but he saw hesitance demonstrated by Emerie at the order. “Is there a problem, Dr. Karr?”

“No.” Emerie replied swiftly. “I’ll handle it.”

“Where’s Nala Se?” Omega asked as she looked around the lab but found no sign of the Kaminoan.

“In a cell. I’m afraid the Kaminoan won’t be aiding you in another escape.” He said to Omega before addressing Emerie, “I’ll return later for the results.” He walked out the lab. He had other preparations to oversee.

Omega walked over to her sister, “Emerie, you don’t have to do this.”

Emerie sighed as part of her wished the words didn’t affect her as much as they did but what else was she supposed to do? This is where she wanted to be… didn’t she? “I’m sorry, but I do.” She prepared the syringe and approached the young girl. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re safe.” Emerie took the sample.

“Am I?” Omega questioned uncertainly. “And why did he take her from me? What is he going to do her? Will she be okay?”

And the reassurance Emerie once might’ve been prepared to offer couldn’t be said anymore.

Pabu was a ghost town.

The people of the island were recovering and hiding in their homes.

All that remained were the signs of destruction the soldiers had left behind.

But there were no more troopers.

No more gunships.

And he knew what that meant.

He couldn’t deny it to himself anymore.

It had happened again.

They’d taken his home.

They’d taken Omega.

They’d taken you. The love of his life.

Gone.

Your time spent together had been so rushed, so interrupted and there had been too little time for him to express how important you were to him since you’d returned.

The life that the two of you were preparing to have together had been snatched away. And now you were gone. You were gone before he’d had the chance to-

And both of you would be subjected to whatever torment Hemlock wished to inflict. The very thought made him sick to his stomach.

If only he’d been quicker, stealthier. If only he’d handled that gunship pilot better. If only-

He stopped short and clawed at his chest as he felt the guilt constrict around his heart. His knees buckled as the entire weight of his failure crashed into him and he had to brace himself against one of the ransacked stalls to keep from collapsing but he forced himself to calm down.

He couldn’t allow himself to lose himself in it. Not anymore.

He’d done that before but that was then.

Now, he let clarity overcome him.

Now he would not lose focus.

He would not falter.

He would not be dissuaded.

Everything he had was going to go into getting you two back.

Hemlock would die.

Nothing was going to stop him from achieving that.

He felt wet nose nuzzle against his palm and he glanced down to see Batcher looking up at him with concerned eyes.

He straightened up and carried onto Archium.

Hunter took his helmet off as he approached his brothers, and he was glad to see Wrecker awake and back on his feet. “The troopers have pulled out, but the cruiser’s still jamming our comms.”

“I still can’t believe you let them turn themselves in.” Wrecker said reproachfully to Crosshair.

“The Empire would have destroyed this whole town. They stopped them.” Crosshair responded, his frustration at the whole situation seeping into his tone. He was more surprised however that the admonishment had come from Wrecker and not Hunter but then again, there was still time.

“Yeah, and they’ve got them again.” Wrecker replied dejectedly. “And we’re stuck here without a ship.”

“Even if we get our hands on a ship, we still have no way of finding Tantiss base.” Hunter said.

The trembling from his hand was an instant reaction. “That’s not exactly true.” Crosshair said cagily as he held his hand.

Hunter stared at his brother carefully and made himself wait for further explanation before he said anything he might regret.

“Wait. You’ve known where Tantiss is this whole time?” Wrecker questioned accusingly.

“I didn’t say I know. There’s someone who might have the coordinates.”

“Who?” Hunter asked urgently.

“Admiral Rampart. He sent Nala Se there when we decommissioned Tipoca City.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Hunter took a few aggressive steps towards Crosshair but checked himself as he caught the way his brother kept massaging his shaking hand. It wouldn’t benefit anyone if he jumped down Crosshair’s throat, he didn’t deserve that.

“Because Tantiss isn’t a place I ever wanted to go back to.” Crosshair admitted. “And Rampart’s not particularly trustworthy. He is a last resort, but he’s our only option.”

“Where’s Rampart now?”

“I was still in the Empire when they arrested him. He was sent to-”

Batcher growling and the sound of a platform opening interrupted him and the three of them turned to see a hatch in the middle of the Archium floor opening up.

“Do not shoot!” AZ yelled as he and Phee came into the room.

“I second that.” Phee agreed as she saw the three clones with blasters pointing in their direction.

The three of them holstered their weapons.

“I saw the Imperials on my approach. When I landed, Doc here briefed me on the situation.” Phee explained.

“How did you get in here unseen?” Hunter enquired.

“Used the hidden cavern access when I docked my ship.”

“We’re gonna need to borrow that.” Crosshair insisted by way of greeting.

Phee regarded the new face with a knowing smile, “You must be Crosshair. Tech told me all about your… sparkling personality.”

“Is that a no?” Crosshair replied, crossing his arms in his typical unimpressed fashion.

“Any friend of brown eyes is a friend of mine. Where are we heading?”

“An Imperial labour camp on Erebus.” Crosshair divulged with a heavy breath but if it meant a chance to get you and Omega back, he would face the demons of his past.

“Ooh, I like this already.” Phee said with a roguish grin. She led the way down, with Wrecker joining her first.

Crosshair faced his sibling and started nervously, “Hunter-”

Hunter just about managed a single, reassuring nod. “I know, Crosshair.”

“I wanted to- if there had been any other way- I’m-”

Hunter touched his brother’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you, Crosshair. Not at all.” He exhaled a sharp sigh, “It was the right call. Besides, you couldn’t have stopped them, no matter how much you wanted to. All that matters is that I know we’re getting them back.”

Crosshair studied his brother. Of all the reactions he’d expected, this one had been low on the list. This was a different type of determination that gave him the impression that Hunter meant what he was saying, but there was more that he was not allowing himself to feel or express anymore.

Hunter removed his hand before they both stepped onto the platform to follow the others down.

Being helpless to Phee’s plan of sending the ship into a vertical nosedive in order to get past the perimeter had emulated Tech’s crazy, yet somehow effective piloting, and it became very clear why the friendship between the two of them had been growing into something more.

With Phee being on standby for a retrieval after she’d dropped them in, they’d managed to infiltrate the system and find out what prison transport Rampart was on and taking the turbo-tank from the Imperials on-board had been a simple task in the end.

Hunter took control of the steering.

Wrecker and Crosshair took up position by the doorway to the prison hold.

Crosshair touched the walls, “It’s magnetically sealed. Wrecker, remember Plan 55?” Crosshair waited patiently as his brother worked on remembering the details of it.

“Oh. Yeah. 55. Waiting on you. Go.” Wrecker said in quick realisation as he prepared his blaster.

Crosshair opened the door, and they advanced down the corridor.

The door opened and Crosshair instantly ricocheted his blaster bolt around the walls, killing most of the troopers and Wrecker took care of the few stragglers that remained.

“Ct-9904?” Rampart said in disbelief as he recognised the uniformed clone.

“You remembered. How touching.” Crosshair sneered as he stared at the former admiral. The ill-fitting, dirty orange jumpsuit and raggedy beard and untidy hair gave a distinct worn and dishevelled appearance to the Imperial that Crosshair knew he would despise, and he found the whole thing rather satisfying. He tapped the side of his helmet to let Hunter know, “The target’s secured.”

“The target?” Rampart repeated with outrage. “What is this? Are you here to kill me?”

“Tempting, but no.”

Wrecker cleared his throat, interrupting the discussion between them, “What about them?” He asked in reference to the other prisoners on board.

Hunter slowed the turbo-tank to a stop to let Wrecker and Crosshair release the remaining prisoners.

“All clear.”

Wrecker’s confirmation on the comms prompted Hunter to get the tank moving again.

“And what about me?” Rampart asked as the larger clone came back from freeing the others.

“You’re fine right where you are.” Crosshair replied tersely.

“If you’re not here to execute me, and you’re not letting me go, then you must need something from me.” Rampart deduced.

“Tantiss base. Where is it?” Crosshair asked briskly.

“Ah. Tantiss.” Rampart repeated as if the answer had been what he’d expected. “And how much is that information worth to you?”

“You’re not in a position to bargain.” Crosshair growled.

“Hmm. I disagree. I’ll talk after you get me off this planet.” Rampart negotiated smoothly, “You don’t get what you want if I don’t get what I want.”

“We’re approaching the bridge. Wrecker, man the cannon.”

Hunter’s voice on the comms interrupted the tension settling between the three men and Wrecker set off to do as instructed.

From the activation of the bridge gates and barricades and the tank that was approaching from the other side of the bridge, it had become pretty clear that the Imperials were onto them, but Hunter wasn’t about to let that stop him. It would take a lot more than that and probably not even then. He increased the speed of the vehicle and powered through them.

The enemy tank opened fire on them, but Wrecker was quick to respond however the blaster fire wasn’t making a dent in either transport.

There wasn’t time for a firefight, “Their armour’s too strong. Take out the wheels.” Hunter ordered Wrecker as he kept the speed of the tank on a steady increase.

Wrecker did just that and the tank came to a crashing halt as the front set of wheels exploded.

Hunter simply ramped up the power and sent their tank flying over the downed Imperial vehicle.

In the chaos of the tank righting itself, Crosshair and Rampart had gotten thrown to the ground.

Rampart attempted to use the opportunity to grab a free blaster, but the clone shot it out of his hands.

Crosshair got to his feet and trained his sniper on Rampart.

“Oh please. You’re not going to kill me.” Rampart said confidently.

Crosshair set his rifle to stun. “Hmm. Not yet.” He replied simply before he knocked the man out and grab him by the collar.

He’d managed to get the tank through to the other side of the bridge, but the sight of approaching gunships caused Hunter to dramatically drop the speed and he drifted the tank onto an off-road path- the narrow cliffside wasn’t enough to deter him from the pace at which he was driving.

Crosshair opened the door to rejoin his two brothers and he dragged Rampart’s body inside.

Hunter tapped the side of his helmet, “Phee, we’re past the perimeter and need that pickup.” He said into his comm but all he heard was the fuzzy sound of static.

Wrecker was able to fire back and destroy one of the gunships on their tail, but he couldn’t stop the other one from making up ground. “Cannons are offline!” He shouted with an aggravated punch to the console as he saw the power go down. “We’ve got troopers up top.” He said as another sensor beeped. He and Crosshair both got ready to deal with it but the reaction from Hunter stopped them both.

Hunter, uncaring about the precarious path, merely weaved the tank in an aggressive pattern to toss the troopers off. This entire thing was getting old rather fast, he had more important things to be doing now. Most fell quickly but one soldier managed to tumble over the side that had a ladder he could cling onto, so Hunter smashed the lone trooper into the cliffside.

Whilst that plan had worked, it hadn’t deterred the final gunship which landed a successful shop that disabled the steering. The controls went rigid in Hunter’s hands. “Controls are dead.” He voiced aloud. They could really use that pickup now.

“We’re running out of road!” Wrecker cried as he saw the end of the path rapidly approaching.

Then, the glorious sound of explosions sounded from the outside.

“Not exactly a stealth exit, boys.” Phee commed in as she took out the final gunship.

“Let’s move!” Hunter directed as they all made their way to the roof of the tank.

Wrecker watched as his brothers made the jump to Phee’s extended ramp. He tossed Rampart’s limp body on the stairs but the gap between the tank and Phee’s ship was increasing, and he couldn’t be confident that he’d make the jump. “Move closer!”

Hunter saw the end of the road was drawing nearer and there wasn’t more time to get the distance exactly right. “Hurry! Jump!” He urged.

Wrecker took a few steps back before he ran and leaped over. He slid down the last couple steps but fortunately, Hunter had a secure hold on his upper arm, so he was able to be pulled securely on board.

Phee got the ship out of any further harms way.

Crosshair, being the only one of the three of them to keep his helmet on, kicked Rampart’s leg to wake him up.

Rampart came around with a wince.

“We got you off the planet. Now tell us where Tantiss is.” Crosshair demanded.

Rampart released a reluctant groan, “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Complicated how?” Hunter asked snappishly.

“No one knows the coordinates to Tantiss. It was designed that way. But I might know how to get around that.” He said but he didn’t elaborate.

Crosshair was getting tired of his games. “Either you tell us now, or we drop you back in that Imperial prison.”

“Now, now. No need for threats.” Rampart tisked. “After all, we’re in this together. Retrieving the young girl will be no easy task, but the girl and a Jedi? You’ll need my expertise so best play nice.” Rampart smirked as he saw the way all three of them stiffened their posture. “Oh yes, word travels amongst the unsavoury characters I was forced to be in close quarters with and between the officers.”

He fixed his stare on Hunter whose jaw was clenched so tight; Rampart wondered if the act was causing him physical pain. “CT-9904 had some rather interesting information to share about the two of you. I didn’t think the protocol would’ve allowed for such… fraternisations.”

Crosshair recoiled slightly as he remembered the conversations. Rampart’s words felt like he may as well have just punched him in the gut, and Crosshair risked a glance to Hunter as he readied his own apologies, but Hunter wasn’t looking at him.

Hunter stalked around the table to stand over the seated form of Rampart who was already beginning to cower into the booth. “You’re here because we need your information but let me make something very clear to you…”

This particular demeanour Hunter was exhibiting was foreign territory to the two brothers. Crosshair and Wrecker watched the interaction closely in case they were needed to intervene, more for their brother’s sake than Rampart’s.

Hunter’s voice took on a tone that was so low and so threatening, it even put Wrecker and Crosshair on edge and made them stand up a little taller. “Mention her or Omega again and you’ll wish you were back on Erebus.”

And Rampart could tell by the intensity of his stare and the conviction behind his words that the clone wasn’t bluffing either. Rampart’s throat went dry, and he swallowed a few times to find his voice again, “P-” He cleared his throat. “Point- point taken.” He said shakily. He’d miscalculated his power in this situation rather badly. Despite the fact he was the one that had the information to offer, it would only be worth it if he got out of here in one piece and the clones kept to their end. Evidently, that would not happen if he pushed that particular button too much.

Satisfied that his words had landed, Hunter turned to go back to the cockpit but jutted his head for Crosshair to follow him.

Wrecker offered a supportive pat on Crosshair’s shoulder as he left.

“Phee, can you go watch Rampart with Wrecker for a few minutes?” Hunter asked tightly as he felt his emotional control slipping.

“Uh, sure.” Phee said with a questioning look between the two clones but the tension in the air was palpable, so she didn’t linger.

Crosshair removed his helmet and waited nervously for his brother to speak.

“What did you tell him?” Hunter ground out as he pushed the rising wave of emotions back down.

Crosshair looked down at the floor in shame. “Nothing. I-”

The wave came back stronger this time, and he couldn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction to his brother’s evasiveness. “Crosshair!” Hunter interrupted heatedly.

Crosshair met Hunter’s stare.

Hunter started talking but his words came out short and sharp with his voice rising with each sentence. “Rampart can’t gain any leverage here. If he has anything about her, about me, about our relationship that he could use against us… against me then I have to know! I need to know what he knows!”

Crosshair kept his voice level; a shouting match would do no good here and Hunter had every right to be reacting the way he was. All Crosshair could do was hope Hunter would believe him. “He doesn’t know anything. Not really.” Crosshair took a breath. “I told him getting her in Imperial custody might be a good way to get you. It would be a way to get you to slip up and come out of hiding. And if you came, the rest of the squad would follow. Nothing specific, I swear.”

Hunter looked at Crosshair but everything on his face and everything he knew about his brother told him he was telling the trust. He didn’t sense any dishonesty and he wasn’t about to throw away the trust he’d built and regained with Crosshair over some stupid comment from Rampart. He relaxed his stance and his tone, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Hunter said as he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the oncoming headache that had been brewing since leaving Pabu.

Crosshair dismissed the unnecessary apology. “I’d expected a lot worse.” He recognised the signs and knew his brother needed a moment to himself now, so he quietly left the cockpit.

Hunter exhaled deeply and reached under his clothes and clasped the leather chord as he pulled out the necklace. He fiddled with the Jedi symbol that decorated it and allowed himself the few seconds of ease and happy memories the action brought before he hid it once more.

Hunter shook off everything that had just transpired and put everything else that wasn’t involved in getting you and Omega back to the back of his mind before he rejoined the others.

Omega’s body was heavy with weariness. These tests had taken hours and after the night she’d already had, her body was struggling to fight against the urge to just slide of the stool and sink to the floor.

Her ears pricked up as she heard a cheering dinging, but she saw the curious yet slightly concerned look Emerie shot her way. Omega didn’t have any time to enquire more about that since Hemlock returned.

“Dr. Karr, what are Omega’s results?”

“Her blood sample yielded a favourable M-count replication.”

“As expected.” Hemlock said as he looked to the young girl.

“What does that mean?” Omega asked.

“I’ll show you.” Hemlock replied.

Omega was left with little choice but to follow Hemlock out and walk a route that was unfamiliar to her.

“Did you know an individual’s M-Count cannot be directly replicated?” Hemlock quizzed as he led the way to the vault. “Attempts have been made but each time, the levels degraded. And so we experimented.” He opened the doors to the corridor illuminated with red beams and gestured for Omega to carry on.

Omega didn’t move yet. “Where are you taking me?”

“The vault.”

Together, the two of them then carried on walking.

“We tried various methods, mixing samples from out other test subjects, yet nothing worked...” Hemlock continued to divulge, “until we combined your sample with one of our M-Count specimens.”

Together, the two of you would make a scientists dream so Omega couldn’t understand Hemlock’s command to separate the two of you. What did he have planned for you that was so different to anything else that would lie behind the doors ahead. “Then why couldn’t we stay with each other?”

Hemlock paid no attention to the broader meaning behind question. He kept his focus on her role here instead. “You are a vital piece to our work here, Omega.”

Omega stopped short as the doors opened and she was met with the sight of three children- they were a few years younger than her- and a baby. She recovered quickly and asked, “Who are they?”

“They are the rest of the puzzle. And this, this is your new home.” Hemlock turned around and walked out.

Omega heard the doors shut with a secure clash and she gulped as she took in the space.

She was confined. Again.

You felt a flicker of fear as the door opened and you saw the tiny cell you were to be put in.

The walls were blank and grey.

There wasn’t any type of bed.

All that was there was a thick silver chain with shackles attached to it that was weaved through a notch in the wall.

All of that added to the already freezing temperature of the cell.

One of the troopers shoved you hard in the back and you tripped into the room.

“SP-42, you need to wear this uniform now.”

You studied the face of the woman that gave you the drab, grey clothes and you saw traces of Omega in her face. Plus, it was obvious she was doing her best not to give away the fact that she knew who you were. “Emerie, isn’t it? Omega mentioned you.”

Emerie shifted uncomfortably but subtlety nodded. “She talked about you, too.” She said quietly before she addressed you at a louder volume with a more official stature. “But I really need you to follow my instructions, SP-42.”

“Please, SP-42 was my father. My first name will be fine. I have a feeling we’ll be spending a lot of time together.” You quipped as you took off your armour, the rest of your clothes and changed into the uniform that was handed to you.

“Ah, the use of humour to distract one from the pain of their current situation.”

Your blood ran cold at the soft and quiet yet threatening voice, but you masked your discomfort quickly as Hemlock came into view. “Oh great, it’s SP-Fuckface.” You remarked crudely as you fixed him with an intense glare.

Emerie tensed up at the comment as she took your personal items from you and handed them to one of the troopers.

“Come now, I thought your people were above such vulgar words.” Hemlock fully came into the cell.

“My people and I tended to differ on a lot of things.” You responded icily.

“Indeed.” Hemlock mused.

You forced yourself to keep your eyes up and not look disgusted by the way he touched the half-skull insignia on your old top.

Hemlock nodded to the one of the troopers to take them away and he inhaled deeply before he gave you his full attention. “I must say, this has been a long-awaited reunion. I offer you my congratulations- the search for you always proved most troublesome, despite your rather public endeavours against the Empire. You were a hard one to predict. Even the information I’d been given ahead of time was not always relevant.”

“Sorry I couldn’t make my capture convenient for you.” You retorted as the troopers took your hands behind your back and secured the shackles to your wrists. You pulled against the chain to test it, but it was strong and only extended a short way, so the bitter metal of the shackles instantly dug into your skin.

Hemlock ignored you and kept to his train of thought, “So, imagine my surprise when I got word that you’d handed yourself in all those months ago.”

“What are-” The realisation that hit you brought with it an overwhelming nausea as you stared at him and the cruel smile on his face.

It had always been Hemlock.

From the moment he’d known what you were.

From the moment you escaped him and made the decision to stop hiding.

From the moment you handed yourself over to the Imperials on Christophsis.

It was never just any Imperial official that wanted you.

It all led back to him.

“The secure prison facility…” Your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper as you recalled the words of the Imperial’s that had been getting ready to transport you off Christophsis.

“Very good.” Hemlock complimented. “If it weren’t for the incompetence of those officers in charge of you, I would’ve had you here a lot sooner.”

You reminded yourself of your training as you felt your breathing quicken and the panic that flared in your gut. You got your emotions under control and made sure you presented yourself as if his words had no impact on you.

Hemlock nodded as he saw your reaction, or lack thereof. It only proved he was right to take this course of action with you. You were no mere specimen. “Do you know that little display of yours in the hallway caused several concussions and a few dislocated shoulders?”

“If you’re looking for an apology, you’re not going to find one here.” You snapped.

Hemlock simply gave you a cool smile, “You misunderstand. I know that was only a taste of what you are capable of and it’s that strength of yours will prove most useful to my operation here.”

The panic came back again. “Useful?” You repeated, determined to keep the quiver out your voice as he started to circle you. You kept your eyes firmly towards the door as you felt him pause by your side.

“You see, I have great plans for you.” Hemlock whispered into your ear.

His breath was cold against your skin, and you were fighting against every instinct that was telling you to flinch away.

“Why am I here?” Still managing to keep your voice steady.

“You are here because I wish to study you.” Hemlock let out a deep sigh as he breathed in the scent of your hair. “You are here because having someone with your talents will be most beneficial.” He stroked his hand down the back of your skull. “You are here because you are going to join my operatives. With you being a part of them, nothing will stop me from achieving my goal.”

You had to jerk away from him then, “No.” You breathed in horror. “Never.”

“The very fact that you think you will have a choice shows how little you understand your situation.”

The walls of the room felt like they were closing in around and you could feel your knees growing weak, but you pushed yourself to stay upright. “You can’t break me. Your fellow Imperials tried already.” But the low, mocking chuckle you got in reply deeply unnerved you.

“You will find my methods to be more… sophisticated than what you’re used to.”

You felt his gloved hand trace down your clothed back, following the exact pattern of the scars left behind after everything you endured on Christophsis. You forced down the bile that rose in your throat.

Hemlock traced the pinprick scar on your neck, enjoying the way you attempted to flinch away from him before your stubborn strength kicked in and you stood still. You would provide him a most stimulating challenge that he was yet to meet, even the other prisoner hadn’t resisted as much as he expected. “I focus far more on the mind than those imbeciles on Christophsis. Perhaps if they’d used their interrogation droid more wisely, I would’ve been reacquainted with you sooner.”

Your entire body went numb. His vile words were far more threatening than any of the Imperials and troopers you’d come across.

“They didn’t understand what they had in their possession, but I do. Your mind will become mine. You will be one of my operatives.”

“And if I don’t?” You would sooner die than join him and you knew he had to know that too.

Hemlock came round to stand in front of you once more. “Then your time here will be short-lived. But I hope we can avoid such an unpleasant outcome. After all, Omega’s fate could depend on it.”

You lunged forward but the chain tugged you backwards immediately.

“Take her vitals and return to the vault.” Hemlock ordered as he placed his hands behind his back and walked out.

It took everything in you to keep standing as Emerie drew a sample of your blood.

Emerie avoided eye contact with you. That entire interaction had her struggling not to bolt. She just kept her sights firmly on the vial as she stepped away from you and headed towards the door.

“Emerie.”

Emerie paused but kept her back to you.

“Look out for her, okay? She might not need it but it’s looking like I can’t be the one to be there for her if she does.”

Emerie nearly turned to face you, but she stopped herself and said nothing as she exited.

Only when Emerie left did you collapse to your knees on the stone ground and let the emotions leave you in frantic, terrified breaths.

You allowed yourself a moment to lose yourself in your situation before you regained your composure.

You adjusted yourself into as comfortable as a position you could manage.

You closed your eyes and allowed the Force to wrap you in its calming and secure presence.

He wouldn’t break you.

No matter what he thought he could do.

He wouldn’t get to you.

You would get out of here somehow.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @notgonnaedit , @allthingsimagines @nightmonkeysstuff, @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x female!reader #hunter x fem!reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #friends to lovers #star wars #angst

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lockes-woods · 5 months ago

Text

Kinktober '24 Day 2

Request: I got one. Shanks x shy afab reader Public sex, creampie, foreplay all that jazz and whatever else you think would be good

WARNING: Warning: exhibition, creampie, annoying/mean Shanks at times, public sex, foreplay, oral (reader receiving)

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“Shanks, stop,” you said, your tone embodying the same voice one would use to scold a dog. You slapped his hand away as he reached over to give your ass a quick squeeze, your face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment. 52 minutes. It hadn’t even been an hour since you had met at the café in town. For at least 45 of those minutes, he’s been touching you in some way; his hand glued to your body.

“I’m sorry baby, you just look so good,” he said, playing with the excess ribbon that hung from the bow tying your corset together at your bust. He twirled the ribbon around his finger, knowing that a quick tug at the right angle would untie the bow and leave him with easy access to your body. You gave him a warning look. Outside of the fact that dresses aren’t the most practical option on a ship, you never wore them because it made getting access to you way too easy for Shanks. It was just too dangerous, especially with how his impulse control was when you were involved. He crowded you against a brick wall in between shops; the streets for the most part deserted. Venders had just begun to set up in the promenade you two had been walking around.

“Can I have a kiss?” he asked, smirking down at you. Despite everything you’ve been through he almost always asked for permission. Being the sole object of his focus would never not fluster you, but today you tried to stay strong.

“Shanks we were just together last night til early this morning.” You pointed out, hoping it may satiate him, but knowing nothing outside of you would.

“But tressure, I had to leave our room before I was done with you,” he started, “Plus you’re never as loud on the ship as you are when we stay somewhere else.”

“S-Shanks,” you tried to argue as his right hand tilted your chin up to force eye contact, “Fuck,” you whined as he started to stroke your cheek affectionately. You took a deep breath to attempt to center yourself before responding.

“But I can’t even remember how many times we were together last night, plus you only had to leave for the ship, an hour before our check-out time.” You tried to rationalize before adding one final comment, “I’m starting to get sore,”

“Just one kiss, tressure” he promised, “then I’ll keep my hand to myself unit we’re back in our quarters.”

“O-okay,” you responded both answering him and reassuring yourself at the same time. The smirk never left his face as you pressed up on your toes to be taller as he leaned down to meet you halfway. A moan immediately ripped out of you as he bit your lip, not enough to break the skin but, just enough to surprise you. He immediately pressed his tongue into your mouth, pinning you more firmly against the wall. You couldn’t help but whine as he deepened the kiss, totally powerless to his strength, height, and build. You were stuck under his ministration as your head became more and more clouded with lust. Your eyes snapped open when you felt something press up against your stomach. You didn’t even have to look down to confirm your suspicions. You gently pressed your hand against Shanks’ chest, he let out a disappointed groan as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.

“Shanks,” you whined as he gently grinded against you.

“Yes, my love?” he asked a look of faux innocence masking the smirk that was normally plastered on his face.

“Fuck,” you whined. You could feel yourself begin to get desperate, even though he had been inside of you less than three hours prior. It didn’t matter how often you would be together; you had begun to assimilate to his appetite. You could feel yourself getting wet, despite already being sore from his love and attention the day before.

“You said, just a kiss,” you replied, trying to ignore his advances and stay strong.

“It was just a kiss baby,” he said, mask beginning to slip, “I’ll wait til we get back to our quarters before I’ll have you again.”

“B-but,” you tried to start, but couldn’t continue because of your embarrassment.

“What is it baby?” he said, smiling slowly morphing into a smirk.

“You’re hard,” you finally relented, looking up into his eyes.

“Oh, I can wait baby. That is unless you don’t want your well-known captain walking around boner.” He said, falling back into his mischievous look; mask now gone.

“I-I” you tried to start, now truly feeling lost in the sea of embarrassment. You couldn’t help being shy, in the same way Shanks couldn’t help being a mischievous bastard.

“You?” he prompted, allowing you time to collect your thoughts.

“I can-do you want help?” you asked, looking down at his bulge. He gently tipped your chin up.

“You know I’ll always take what ever my sweet treasure has to offers,” He started, “Don’t you love?” You nod in response, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. You took one last deep breath before replying.

“Where-where would we go?” You just managed to get out. The streets had just begun to fill with early birds.

“Trust me?” Shanks asked,

“Always,” you reply in a heartbeat. He gave your forehead one last peck before looking down at you with a genuine smile. He lightly took his hand in yours after he had adjusted himself to the best of his ability. He led you down an alley in the direction of the marina. You had managed to get closer than you would have thought, stopping within a freight center; where goods were being traded, stored, and bought. There were crates surrounding you both. The piles that had two or more creates fully hid Shanks from view which wasn’t a small feat. You knew you were close to the docks as you smelled the seawater misting at the other end of the storage yard. Shanks covered your mouth with his hand preemptively, before pressing you firmly against a crate so that your stomach was touching it.

“I’m going to move my hand now love, try your best to be quiet, don’t want to draw attention to us, do you?” You nodded in response. He had you bent slightly with your hands pressed against the crate for support. You bit your lip to contain a whine as he hiked up your dress, exposing your ruined panties that he promptly slipped off. You widened your stance expecting him to tease your lower lips with his cock, before pushing in for a quicky. You couldn’t hold back the surprised gasp you let out when instead of his cock, you felt his tongue running over the seem of your pussy. You leaned more heavily against the crate in from of you as he ate you out from behind.

Your annoyance at being set up by him dissolved into lust as he began to lap at your clit while simultaneously fingering your tight cunt. You leaned firmly with your dominant arm while you held the palm of your other arm firmly against your mouth. After a minute of Shanks’ effort, you no longer need to worry about you being the reason you got caught. Every slurp, suction, and thrust of his fingers loudly echoed through the yard. The noises only encouraged his movements. As he ate you out with the same vigor he had when you two were alone in your quarters. You were close.

“Captain,” you whined just below your normal speaking volume, “I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,”

Shanks blatantly ignored your warning; instead doubling down. His fingers sped up as he focused in on sucking on your clit. His only warning of the orgasm before it cut through you was the slight tremble of your legs locking up on either side of his head, keeping him in place. Your moans were thankfully muffled by your hand. You collapsed against the crate in the wake of your orgasm. Hypersensitive to Shanks’ movements as he eased his thick fingers out of your cunt. He let you recover for a moment before he gently pulled you off the crate, before pressing your back into it. Essentially trapping you between him and the create. Your mind was still hazy as you heard the telltale rusting of fabric as Shanks adjusted his clothing to free his cock. He waited until your eyes came back to focus, holding eye contact with his gleaming red eyes.

“Ready, Love?” he asked stroking your cheek.

“Yes,” you answered desperate for his cock. It was days like this that it became unclear who was a bad influence on whom. He kissed you to stifle your moan as he pushed in. He was a bit faster to start, knowing you were already partially stretched out from the events of the night before, and from the orgasm he had just granted you. Your lips stayed connected as he sped up, so overwhelmed with his pulsing cock that he no longer cared who could potentially hear or see you. Well him more than you, as he crowded your image with his body from any potential wandering eyes. He groaned as your pussy grasped him so tight it felt like you were trying to push him out. He only sped up again determined to cum with you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling away from the kiss, resting his forehead against you.

“I’m gonna cum treasure, Fuck,” he started as you buried your face into his neck, “Where do you want me?”

A whine escaped you as he gently tugged you away from his neck momentarily.

“Love,” he prompted.

“I-In me please,” you begged also turning the corner into your own orgasm. You two shared a sloppy kiss as Shanks pulled out one last time before slamming back in as hard as he could, a bruising grip from his hand on your hip. You stayed like that for a moment basking in each other’s presence before the reality of your situation hit you. You immediately pulled back away from his lips, embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you felt hot shame on the back of your neck. You tried to pull your hips, but his grip wouldn’t budge.

“Love, you have to let go, someone’s going to find us”, you whined, anxiety clear in your voice. He let out a delayed nod, only now coming down from his high. He pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead as he eased out of you, letting your skirt fall back to its place slightly below your knees. He pulled back, readjusting himself as he gazed down at you mischievously.

“What did you do?” you asked him, knowing that nothing good ever came from that look.

“If you haven’t noticed yet, it can’t be that big of a deal.” He answered vaguely before taking your hand and exiting the storage yard. You got two steps before you began to feel his release slowly slide down your upper thigh. Your eyes widened in realization.

“S-Shanks give me back my panties,” you said in a low voice.

“What these?” he asked, holding the black underwear in a way only you could see it before he shoved it into his pocket.

“S-Shanks,” you whined, “I'm already starting to leak.”

“Huh, sounds like you better get back to the Red Force. Wouldn’t want anyone to see how much of a slut you are.” He responded with a smirk, letting go of your hand as he walked away from you. Unlike normal he didn’t break pace to accommodate your shorter legs. You felt almost lightheaded from the level of embarrassment you felt as you trailed quickly behind your brat of a captain.

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MASTERLIST

A/N: Hope you enjoyed ^-^ I'm glad I was able to maintain and only go over a little bit. Tomorrow's prompt is a little harder and will most likely be on the longer side. I will have a kinktober master list posted later today. Hope you're all doing well!

-Locke

#Lockes' Kinktober #kinktober 24'#kinktober week 1 #one piece one shot #one piece #shanks x reader #shanks x you #red haired shanks #x reader #cross posted on ao3 #warning in description

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spoonfulofmilo · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! i wanted to request lando x fem!reader where dhe studies in the US and is dating lando and talks about him all the time but all of her friends thinks she is joking because she has no proof (she cant post anything yet because lando hasnt said anything abt a gf to the public). and y/n crys to lando because no matter how much convincing she does they think shes just messing with them. (she literally drives his spare mclaren and they still dont beleive her.) so lando decides to suprise her in class and then posts her on insta and all of her friends feel really bad

woohoo!

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

lando norris x reader

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Y/N picks up her laptop and some pens with her notebook. She’s got another study date with her friends. She likes them, sure she does, but sometimes they get a little irritating.

For one, they don’t believe that her boyfriend is THE Lando Norris. They think she’s either got some unemployed schmuck who she is afraid to tell them about due to his poorness (the stuck up snobs) or they think she’s got some old sugar daddy that she doesn’t want them to meet because he’s so old.

So Y/N is taking less than ideal measures. Like today. Lando recently acquired a new McLaren from his work, some customised Spider that came out a couple of years ago. So now that he has his new car, he shipped his old one out to America, so Y/N would have something nice to drive around. His old McLaren GT, not necessarily old, it still cost about $210k, but not Lando’s current favourite, so Y/N could drive it around a bit.

And drive it, she would. Maybe this would finally convince her friends. Once and for all, that Lando Norris was interested in her and was dating her. She grabbed the keys off the table, double checked she had everything and then got into the car, driving the 10 minutes to the coffee shop.

Okay, maybe pulling up outside a coffee shop entirely inhabited by uni students in a custom McLaren wasn’t the best idea, but it was the best one she had. She got out of the car, locking it and headed in, almost immediately spotting her friends.

“Hello! I’ll just grab a coffee and then we can get to it!” She smiled at them, but she could see their faces

“How about you get us all a coffee with your sugar daddy money, Y/N.”

Y/N put her head down and ordered a hot chocolate and a cookie before returning to the table.

“So, how’s Lucas, Gabrielle?”

“Oh come on, no one wants to hear about my boyfriend, Y/N, we all just want to hear about your sugar daddy.”

“As I’ve told you before, I do not have a sugar daddy. I have Lando, who is my boyfriend, not my sugar daddy. And he is good, excited for the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and then excited to be coming home at the end of the season.”

“Yeah right, just cause you’re sending nudes to some old guy, doesn’t mean you can’t tell your best friends… come on, cut the charade Y/N.”

“I-” YN could feel tears welling up in her eyes, so she grabbed her stuff, and her hot chocolate before getting into the McLaren and driving off.

Thank god it was only a 5 minute drive, else Y/N may not have made it back due to the tears welling up in her eyes. Maybe if she had, she would’ve seen the other McLaren in the driveway, but instead she walked into the house and locked herself in the bathroom, sitting down and beginning to cry.

Lando outside quickly froze. He honestly had no idea what to do. He was planning on surprising his girlfriend when she got home from her study date with her friends, but she arrived 2 minutes after he got home and had immediately walked into the bathroom without even saying hello. Leaning against the door, Lando could hear shaky breaths and sobs through the door, as he leaned his whole weight onto it, he quickly realised that she had not in fact locked the door, as he fell through it, landing on the cold tile floor.

The sobs stopped, as the hiccups continued. “L-lando, are you, okay? Wait, hang on, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the factory in England?” The confusion in her voice was evident.

“Yeah, well I had some spare time, and I decided to come over, and the door wasn’t locked properly, but what happened? Why are you in here crying pretty girl?”

“It’s nothing, I promise, just me getting upset over nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing darling when you’re sitting here on the bathroom crying, huh?”

“Just… well, people don’t think we’re dating. They think I’m lying about it to try and cover for some 80 year old sugar daddy, and they think i’m being delusional.”

“Why, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want to worry you…”

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N of course I worry about you. Let’s forget about your shitty friends, and let’s go get a takeout dinner and a movie.”

“Love Actually?”

“Yes, if you want.”

---

Y/N dashed into the classroom, running slightly late as she sat down, and pulled open her laptop. Cursing herself for oversleeping, and not having the time to grab a coffee on the way, she sat down and began to take notes.

Halfway through the lecture, Y/N heard the door at the back of the room open again. ‘Well at least I’m not the last one.’ She heard whispers and gasps and tried to focus on the lecture until she felt a presence standing next to her and looked up into her boyfriend’s brown eyes.

In his hands was a starbucks cup, a classic ice chocolate based on the label on the cup. Lando placed the cup on the table, before pressing a kiss to Y/N’s head and half jogging out of the room to avoid the fangirls.

Y/N could feel the judgemental looks at the back of her head, but all she could do was smile.

Lando Norris

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Lando.norris love you baby 🙂

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#f1 fic #miloformula123fan #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you

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natsuyuki-w · 4 months ago

Text

Desire

Fandom delicious in Dangeon Mithrun of Kerensil x gn!reader " Mithrun of the house of Kerensil, I offer you my strength, my care, and my life. By the duty I once held, and the heed I now give, I swear it. Let it be done. "

1535 words

- Of course! If you think my assistance could be useful, then I am at your command.- You rose from a deep bow, your prosthetics clicking softly in the quiet hall, the sound echoing faintly as you met the sharp scrutinizing gaze of the elven minister. - Though I have to admit,- you added with a hint of dry humor, -I can't say I expected something like this.-

Idle chit-chat was hardly typical of the kingdom's summons, especially with the past month’s chaos, you’d assumed they’d have other priorities.

Not that you’d complain, better a light assignment then something hideous like hitman work.

The man, stoic as ever, offered no further explanation, only waited for your commitment.

-Well then…- you murmured, drawing a breath. Turning, you faced the ash-blond beside, his expression reserved, but gaze intense. Bowing again, you began, - As I stand before you, Mithrun of the House of Kerensil, I renew the vow I once swore to the Queen of all elven kind and the bright kingdom she reigns. Though I no longer wield a blade, I offer you my strength, my care, and my life. I shall be your ally and shield. Your well-being is mine to protect, your burdens my own to bear. By the duty I once held, and the heed I now give, I swear it. Let it be done.-

You relished the regal theatrics, and peering at the intimidating Captain of the Canaries, it had been worth it. Wide-eyed stare, a look that could only be called lost, like a kitten stranded on the wrong branch. Stifling a giggle, you winked. - Thank you for your service, Captain. Now you can retire… with another old folk. -

Outside the palace, Mithrun trailed quietly beside you, keeping closer than expected as you boarded the ship. - Welcome back! - called the ship’s captain, striding over with the crew behind her. - Why, thank you for your hospitality! - your reverenced with elaborate flourish. - Did you get everything sorted out? - the first mate asked, slinging his broad arm around your shoulders.

You were soon surrounded and engaged amused by the enthusiasm. Meanwhile, the ex Canaries, hovered in the background, observing the apparent reunion with a slightly narrowed gaze.

- Who’s the… uh… twig tagging along— The big man stopped short, blanching as he recognized the elf. - Captain Mithrun! M-Mithrun of Kerensil, I… uh… didn’t mean— Without acknowledging the apologies, the skinny elf reached out and took your wrist, quietly steering you away from the group.

A bit surprised, you let him lead. After all thanks to your job, you’d encountered all sorts over the years. So even someone as brisk as Mithrun was no novelty.

Between greetings and nods, the two of you eventually found at last quiet on the ship's poop deck and he broke the silence. - Why are you no longer in the army? - - Oh? They didn’t brief you on my… situation? - - Drop the formalities. - he ordered, sounding utterly formal doing so.

- Sure —buddy - you teased, obviously amused by the dichotomy. - I’ll take it to heart. Now, why don’t we—? - - Why? - he repeated, dead serious. You raised a brow, studying him. - I thought curiosity was the last thing you’d be hanging onto, Captain. -

-...-

Laughter bubbled up before you could stop it. His blank expression was just too much - S-sorry, sorry… - you wiped a tear from your eye, and rolling up your sleeve, revealed your arm. Metal met flesh at your elbow - I’m missing a few… assets… to be a soldier these days - you pointed out, showing him the prosthetic. - Plus, I've been drained of mana. Can’t do much without that too.”

- Couldn’t they just… fix you?- he asked, more interested than you’d expected. - You know better than I that some things can’t be fixed.- You made a small circle with your fingers, peering at his bad eye.

His quiet nod suggested that he understood, though the way he continued to stare was holding expectations for a continuing. - Persistent, aren’t you? Bit late for a background check, don’t you think? - you smirked. - I need to know how troublesome the situation may be. - he replied flatly.

- Ouch. - You placed a hand over your heart in mock hurt. - I don’t even have jabs in my ears.- Proof that you weren’t branded a criminal by the Queen. The elf’s reaction was another blank look, - How about this, a story for a story. - You held out your hand.

Mithrun ignored the sign but nodded in agreement. - Very well. - - O—oh, good! - you weren't expecting to be that easy - Then my question is…-

Before you could finish, a bell rang, signaling the ship’s imminent departure. The clang covered the rest of your words. - If you really want the story, it’ll take a while - he cautioned as the ship began to sway.

- That's fine. - You stretched lazily. - Oh! I could prepare you something in the meantime. Word has it you often forget your own basic needs…- You eyed his unkempt state. It was clear he hadn’t seen a proper bath in ages. - Come on. - and again to your surprise, he followed, letting you tend to him.

You guided Mithrun through a full routine of health and wellness, complete with herbal infusions, explaining the properties of each blend as he listened. You scrubbed his scalp in warm suds, steam rising around him as you rinsed his hair in the bathhouse’s soothing wood-scented mist.

By the time he sat down for a meal, the kitchen’s noise had mellowed, the space feeling homier, welcoming. He ate a bowl of your creamy stew, the warmth filling him as he sat, finally relaxing.

On the other hand, the elf had drained you on a journey to his past.

Other than the weight of his tales, he was a terrible storyteller. Skipping crucial details and hyper-focusing on minor ones. Yet, in his odd mannerisms, you were hooked, hanging on his every word, more curious than ever about your future together.

- That’s freaky as… well, hell - you marveled, finally moving out and staring over the horizon, reflecting on his stories. - I had no idea Dungeons had that sort of "mechanics".- The memories stirred a quiet thoughtfulness in you, recalling your own share of horrors.

- Why did you lose your limbs and magic? - Mithrun’s voice broke your reverie as he leaned in close, the intensity of his gaze startling. - Whoa! You don’t beat around the bush, do you?- laughed and took a step back. - Ever heard of suspense—

Before you could finish, felt a sudden shift, then, in an instant, the deck disappeared beneath you, the world flashing from salty breeze to icy seawater in a blink. A few bubbles escaped your mouth in surprise, but with a bit of thrashing, you found your way to the surface, gasping for breath.

Amid the splashing, you could hear the loud shouts and following the ruckes, your gaze shifted upwords deck. There he was, staring down with his dark gaze looking all too pleased with himself.

You spluttered but quickly dissolved into laughter, the absurdity of it all too perfect to resist. And if you weren’t mistaken, you saw the shadow of a smile on his lips as well.

- What happened? - shouted the first mate already throwing a lifeboat to reach you. Thanks to his large strides, it took him little to come, the wooden sloop shaking from the unsteady grip of his worry - A-are you hurt? - now floating on your back, still giggling like a maniac, you waved him off, and just as your hand reached for his, another surprise.

- Mphf— the air knocked out of your lungs, but this time from the impact of a solid surface. The ex-captain miscalculation of his own strength, brought the both of you on the wooden floor.

You had fallen on top of him, one of his slanky arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. Drenched and dizzy, you gazed up at him. Droplets ran down his ragged yet delicate face, and you could now confirm that glint of amusement in those black pools.

“… I’m gonna throw up,” you gulped and stumbling hurried over the edge of the rail.

After asking the crew to fetch him a towel, Mithrun sighed and remarked, “That’s what you get for being so… stubborn.” You caught your breath, sending him a teasing reply - I’d say we’re a good match, Mr. "I Don’t Need to Eat".-

A ripple of chuckles rolled around the deck as the crew began calling down. Convinced you’d been snatched by a sea monster the desperate sailor had jumped in the icy waters and when attracted by his mates’ voices, finally spotted you giving a lazy wave.

“Still not tired of waiting?” you asked, glancing at Mithrun. - A story for a story, that's what you promised. - he reminded, dark gaze unwavering. - True…- You shrugged with a sly grin. - But I never said when I’d tell it. -

-...-

You took a step back, hoping for some safe distance. - OKAY, OKAY! No more baths!- The other elf shook his head - You sure are a fan of the dramatics. I’m sure it’s not even that big a story. -

- First off… correct. - you admitted - Second… well, I didn’t want to look too lame to my new employer. But I guess after this… I’ll survive the embarrassment. -

To be continued...

#bookshelf originals #dunmeshi fanfic #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #mithrun #mithrun x reader #mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun dungeon meshi #mithrun dunmeshi #mithrun delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi x reader

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ginnsbaker · 2 years ago

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (5/?)

Chapter summary: The "calm" before the storm. Wanda’s tentative friendship with you is off to a good start

Chapter word count: 5.4k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader (heavy on this chapter)

Notes: don't need to squint for fluff in this one, also kind of a filler before we get to the much dreaded part 6

AO3 | Masterlist

Next Chapter: Six

Five

Wanda’s tentative friendship with you is off to a good start. There’s a silly smile on her face as she puts the harness on Sparky; and the energetic pupper struggles only slightly when Wanda coos at him.

“We’re going to see Y/N,” Wanda says, and Sparky wags his tail hard at the mention of your name. “Who’s an excited little boy?”

She proceeds to hook the leash on the harness and then temporarily secure the hand loop around the doorknob.

“Stay there while mommy puts on makeup.” Wanda commands and feeds him a treat from her hand.

Wanda studies herself in front of the mirror. It’s a problem putting on the liquid foundation because she can’t stop smiling, the product caking along her laugh lines as a result.The last time she was drunk on happiness was when she got that job at the art gallery and you surprised her by taking her to a romantic dinner cruise around the island. While there, you both mapped out the plan for her to eventually be the senior art curator–a position that eventually went to Agatha Harkness. Wanda had been bold to give herself only two years to work her way to the top, and it wasn’t purely of her own accord. It was being with you that she felt she could dream anything. It was you that removed all her fears and doubts.

If anything happens, let them happen, she thought to herself. As long as she had you, the rest was just confetti.

It didn’t mean that Wanda’s ambition and everything else outside of you were just background noise; it only meant she knew it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she failed.

Wanda ends up just applying a bit of lip gloss on her lips, recalling how often you used to tell that you prefer her more natural look.

Her phone buzzes with a notification. Wanda unlocks it to find a text from Pietro, who she asked to man the cafe until afternoon.

You owe me a free batch of those macadamia cookies for this. - P

I’ll bake all the cookies you want for a discount. - W

Thank you for doing this. - W

Agatha agreed to help in the morning. - P

You text with Agatha??? - W

:p - P

Please don’t flirt in front of my customers. - W

No promises. Enjoy your date with Y/N. - P

Wanda grins from ear-to-ear.

It’s not a date. - W

You wish it was. - P

Wanda chooses not to answer that and slips her phone back in her purse. Then she turns to Sparky who’s been fiercely watching her all this time.

“Ready to go, bud?”

–

“You look nice.”

It’s offhandedly delivered after you take the reins on Sparky, yet the speed at which she blushes from the compliment is almost embarrassing. Like always, she makes it a point to look good for you.

You and Wanda chose to meet at the Conservatory Garden in Central park, taking advantage of the spring weather. Its main path is littered with trees and benches, and an overall perfect spot for people watching. Sparky was the first to spot you, and he started barking the second he picked up your scent and ran towards your direction, dragging Wanda along with his leash. Tears almost fell from her eyes when she watched your touching reunion. You fell to your knees to gather Sparky in your arms, while he made sure to lick every part of your face.

“I missed you too, bud.” Wanda heard you whisper over the back of Sparky’s furry head. Sparky made a whining noise, and you knew he understood.

“I was surprised you’re available on a Wednesday,” you say. You and Wanda are strolling side by side, Sparky in tow, moving in circles around you and occasionally around Wanda too.

“Pietro covered for me.”

“I didn’t know he could bake or make good coffee for that matter.” you say with a light chuckle.

“I baked everything in advance this morning, so all he has to do is take care of the register. Also, he’s caffeine dependent and very particular about his coffee, so he already knows how to make the ones on the menu.”

Though, what Wanda really wants you to know is that she woke up at 3AM just to be able to walk Sparky together.

You raise your eyebrows, half-impressed and half-skeptic. “I’m curious if he’d make them as good as yours. I mean, you make pretty darn good coffee.”

Wanda bites her tongue to maintain her neutral expression. Another compliment. She wonders how many more she can squeeze out of you. The reality is she’s a nervous ball of energy. Worse than College Wanda was nervous when she first realized her feelings for you.

“Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot, coming from you.”

“Aren’t you worried I’m just being biased?” you quip with a devious smirk. Wanda feels a strong urge to wipe it away with her lips. “After all, you did train my tongue to like your cooking.”

“I did not!” Wanda passionately protests, blushing when her mind wanders to what else she trained your tongue to do in the past.

You surprise her by letting loose a laugh; a real one, blissful and unrestrained; playfully challenging her with a, “Then explain why I love overcooked chicken.”

Wanda’s still thinking of a smart comeback, when your ringtone goes off in your pocket.

“Excuse me, I should take this.” you say, handing back the leash to Wanda.

“Hey, stranger,” you happily receive the call, and Wanda curiously watches you from the corner of her eyes.

“This Friday? Yeah. Aside from dinner…? No, I don’t think I have anything else planned.”

Plans this Friday? Wanda muses, trying to figure out if said plans are platonic or not. The thing is, she can’t tell with the tone of your voice alone.

“I’m a Knicks fan, yes,” you confirm something Wanda already knows. “You cheer for Brooklyn? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

You only talk that way to your best friend. Were you talking to Natasha?

“A long time fan, huh? So you’re saying you’ve been rooting for New Jersey all this time,” you laugh. “Nope, you can’t take that back cause I’m recording this call.”

The cheeky way you’re addressing this person is not sitting well with Wanda. Sparky comes up to Wanda and jumps at her, poking her knee with his paw.

“Not now, Sparks.” Wanda hisses at him the way someone would scold a child.

“Count me in. How much does the ticket cost? What? I can’t let you do that… Fine, popcorn’s on me then. Uh, huh. We’ll see about that. Simmons is not who he used to be. Alright, we’ll continue this in the game. Yes, you have me for the whole night, I promise,” you say, your mouth splitting into an amused grin.

Wanda’s head cranes towards you, no longer bothering to pretend she’s not eavesdropping. You catch Wanda’s green orbs and lower your voice as you end the conversation with, “Anyway, I have to go. I’ll see you. Bye.”

“That was Yelena,” you say after tucking away your phone. “Natasha’s sister. I think Nat’s mentioned her to you.”

“Natasha doesn’t talk to me.” Wanda says, keeping her tone light.

You gawk at her. “That’s insane. Of course, she does. I mean not now, because of, you know, what happened.”

“No, she doesn’t. Whenever the three of us are together, we talk to you.”

You hum in confusion, your mind drifting through countless dinners the three of you shared in the past. You suppose Wanda’s claim had basis; Natasha’s seems more reserved in Wanda’s presence.

“Well, I–maybe you heard about her from me?”

“I just know that Natasha has a sister. I never knew her name, though.”

“Ah,” you say, face warming up and sweat gathering around your upper lip. The heat of the sun is at its peak, making you feel incredibly hot. “I thought I'd mentioned her before.”

“So, Yelena,” Wanda starts, wanting to know more about this person despite the pang of jealousy that has crept into her chest. “What’s her story?”

What’s on Friday? Why does she have you for the whole night?

You stop and sit on one of the benches. Wanda follows and plops next to you, leaving just a few inches of space between your bodies. Sparky immediately stands on his hindlegs, trying to jump into your lap. With care, you scoop him up into your arms and cradle him like a baby.

“She’s Natasha’s sister.” You dumbly repeat, not really knowing where you should start telling your ex-wife about the woman who just asked you out on a date.

“You said that already.” Wanda says; though she manages a smile that’s convincing enough, her tone is clipped and rather distasteful.

“What do you want to know?”.

Wanda looks pensive for a moment, before she says, “How come I’m only hearing about her now?”

“She flew to England right before freshman year and then we lost contact right away.” you say.

“And when did she get back?”

Your eyes flit away from her for a moment. “Two years ago.”

“You’re saying you’ve been friends again for the last two years?”

You refuse to let it bother you that she’s obviously jealous even though she has no right to be.

Sighing, you say, “Why does this feel like an interrogation?”

“I’m just curious.” Wanda shrugs, scratching Sparky in the area near his tail. He seemingly looks like he’s fallen asleep on you, but his tail still wags at Wanda’s attention.

“Were you?” Wanda prods. “Were you in touch with her in the last two years?”

For a while you don’t say anything. The thing is, you could lie. You don’t owe Wanda anything anymore. But with Wanda’s line of questioning, it's like she’s almost trying to assert herself and redefine history; perhaps even make it seem like you weren’t so innocent in all of this after all.

Except you were innocent. You never flirted with the idea of other people. Not even that time you ran into the other great love of your life. So with confidence, you tell Wanda the truth.

“We ran into each other five or six months ago. But we recently just reconnected again.” you say.

Wanda does the math in her head.

Oh.

“You didn’t mention that when we–that was before we–”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” you say coolly, your patience wearing thin. “It happened that day you asked me to retrieve a painting from Agatha.”

It’s Wanda’s turn to be speechless. Though you never talked about what really went on that Tuesday afternoon when you clobbered Vision with a vase, Wanda had an inkling that you had something to do with the missing paintings in his room: the one he was working on for his final project and the one she gave him.

It’s still a sour topic; seeing the way your jaw hardens at the mention of the paintings. Wanda backpedals, reeling in the possessiveness she still feels towards you.

“I see…” she trails off.

Badly, she wants to know more about this Yelena, but she’s afraid that she might push you too hard for answers; answers that you don’t have to provide in the first place. Wanda feels somewhat ashamed of having taken advantage of your kindness (yet, again) to get what she wants.

But where does she draw the line?

Wanda wanted you still. She needed to know if there were other people in your life competing for the same thing. She couldn’t just stand meekly in the corner and watch you fall in love with someone new.

“Sparky looks chunkier. Is he chunkier?” you say all of a sudden, rubbing his belly.

Wanda is more than grateful for the change in topic.

“He is. He gained five pounds last time I checked.” she says, smiling fondly at the scene before her.

“So he’s basically happy without me?” you ask, more relieved than downhearted by the fact.

Wanda shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe he’s just eating his feelings, you know? Like I sometimes would.”

You cast a funny look at Wanda. “That sounds implausible.”

Wanda’s laugh fills the air with its melodic resonance. “Why don’t you find out? Take him from me for the weekend. See if he’ll miss me enough to gain a few more.”

It must be so blatant how she’s trying you get you to see her again so soon after today. Though it doesn’t seem like you noticed.

“This weekend?” You pause to think about your schedule despite having all the time in the world to do absolutely nothing. Aside from cleaning up the apartment and doing laundry as part of your Saturday routine, you’ve been wanting to visit your mother in Montauk.

It definitely wouldn’t be a problem if you take Sparky with you.

“Sure, why not?” you say.

“Great,” Wanda beams at you. “I’ll drop him off at your apartment before I open the shop?” she inquires softly, hoping she could get your address.

“Sounds good. Did I already give you my address?”

Wanda does a little victory dance in her head. “You haven’t.”

You text her the details right away.

“Listen, do you want to have lunch before I go?” you ask, getting up and putting Spark back on his feet. “And thank you for this time with Sparky.”

“No problem.”

You’re still ridiculously polite. Still kind.

Still her Y/N.

“You’re late.” Pietro grumbles as soon as Wanda arrives at the cafe.

He has an overly-complicated coffee order waiting, and two customers waiting for their food orders. Agatha has already left two hours ago.

Wanda shrugs her shoulders, placing the eco bags she’s carrying in both hands on the counter. “I went to the grocery store to buy some supplies.”

Pietro mutely hands Wanda her apron and she quickly starts working the espresso machine.

“How did your date go?”

Wanda doesn’t bother to correct him this time.

“It was okay.”

Pietro doesn’t look convinced at the very least. “That’s it?”

“We walked Sparky and had lunch.” comes Wanda’s nonchalant reply.

“Ah, lunch,” Pietro flashes a leering smile at his clearly smitten sister. “Were you the one to ask her?”

Wanda grins with a dazed look. “Nope.”

“Congrats, sis. You’re on your way to getting back with your ex-wife. Which, if I may add, was your plan all along even when you agreed to a divorce in the first place.”

On any other day, Pietro’s sarcastic humor would normally push her buttons in a snap, but right now Wanda couldn’t care less if she tries. The memory of her time with you and the scent of your perfume is still fresh. There’s nothing that could ruin her perfect day.

The door chime sings to signify the arrival of a customer. Wanda quickly draws a simple latte art on a coffee order, and then proceeds to serve it to the customer by the window. Her eyes briefly brushes the customer who just came in, and is taken aback when she finds the woman staring at her expectantly.

Wanda carefully places the mug on the table for her other customer, before very quickly fixing her hair to greet the new arrival.

“Hi, welcome to Second Chances. Dine-in or take-out?”

“I’m here to get Pietro.” The woman says with a bored expression.

Wanda grits her teeth. Her brother really knows how to choose them. “And you are?”

“Shannon,” she drawls. “His fiancé.”

“His what? I mean, that’s–” Wanda is stunned beyond belief, and looks over at Pietro who’s pointedly trying to avoid her gaze. “–amazing news. Congratulations.”

“He proposed months ago.” Shannon deadpans, like she’s used to Pietro’s people not knowing he has a fiancé or a girlfriend for that matter.

“He didn’t tell me.” Wanda says.

Shannon doesn’t acknowledge that information. Instead, she says, “Nice little cafe you have here.”

“Thanks.”

“Though the Spanish Latte needs more sugar. I had it earlier this morning.”

Wanda has to ball her fist to refrain from using them on this woman.

“Actually, we have a suggestion box.” Wanda says, gesturing to the aforementioned box by the counter, designed to look like a mini treasure chest. “If you could write it down, we’ll get to it as soon as we can.”

Shannon forces a smile that’s undeniably fake, possibly for lack of trying.

Pietro approaches them slowly, his rounded eyes reminding Wanda of a wounded puppy.

“Hey, babe,” Pietro mumbles and pecks Shannon on the lips. “I’m ready to go. Let me just change, okay?”

“Five minutes.” Shannon prompts in a stern voice.

At this point, Wanda would rather see Pietro flirting with Agatha than have to watch him be pushed around by this woman with his tail between his legs. A barrage of questions run through her mind, starting with why her brother is marrying this bitch.

“You’re wondering why he’s marrying someone like me.” Shannon says wryly.

“You read minds?” Wanda tries to joke.

Shannon isn’t having it. “It’s a mystery. I, myself, am wondering why I’m still hell-bent on marrying him.”

Wanda tilts her head at her with a quizzical look.

“Oh, you don’t know.” Shannon’s laugh is devoid of humor of any kind.

“Know what?”

“I caught your brother in bed with different women… more times than I can count with one hand.” Shannon explains so casually like she could have just been talking about the weather.

“And I still won’t quit him.” she adds as an afterthought.

“If you’re telling me this because you think I can talk some sense into him–”

“I don’t expect you to do that.”

“Then why are you telling me this?” Wanda asks, no longer holding back her ire.

“Pietro told me what happened with you and your ex.”

“He had no business telling you that.” Wanda says through bared teeth.

Shannon looks unnerved by the evident irritation of her future sister-in-law, and says, “He’s your brother and we do run out of things to talk about.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?”

Shannon drops her gaze to the floor in thought, before they flit up back to Wanda’s eyes which have narrowed into slits.

“Pietro cares about you. The reason he refuses to go back to LA is because he’s worried about you. I just want to give you something to think about that might help all of us.”

Wanda says nothing and merely waits with her hands on her hips. She already doesn’t trust whatever piece of advice she’s going to hear from this stranger.

“Love is forgiveness. If your ex couldn’t forgive you for straying once, then you’re better off with someone else who will accept you for your mistakes. Because believe me, you’ll never run out of them.”

Wanda’s anger slowly ebbs away until all that’s left is bafflement at the insinuation that you’re not good enough for her.

That you’re not worth it. That she’s stupid to chase a love that should overcome anything including infidelity.

“And you’re that person for my brother?” Wanda says, smiling in contempt.

Shannon lifts her chin. No, she wouldn’t go as far as verbally claim it, but the Alpha behavior more than proves that she thinks so highly of her capability to love. Wanda feels an overwhelming urge to throw this woman out. Instead, she turns her back on Shannon to stalk towards the staff room where Pietro is changing.

“I don’t like her.” Wanda states as soon as the door swings open, expecting a half-naked Pietro.

He’s cross-legged on the floor, watching YouTube videos on his phone.

“Which is why you’ve never met her. And before you say anything, I did try very hard to keep it that way. It’s not my fault that you came back so late.”

“What do you see in her, Piet? You haven’t eloped, right? You can still get out of this.”

Pietro shrugs his broad shoulders; shoulders that would have taken him to superstardom, if not for the series of injuries that plagued his short career.

“Look at me,” Pietro says in a languid manner. “I’m a fuck up, Wands. I’ll always be a fuck up. It’s in my nature. And she loves me anyway. Maybe I just want someone who will always have my back no matter what.”

“That’s not love. That’s codependency, you idiot.”

“No offense, sis. But it’s not like you have the moral high ground to lecture me about relationships.”

Wanda’s lips press together into a hard line at the proverbial mirror in front of her. They were both fuck ups. The only difference is one of them has already embraced it with open arms.

After a beat, Wanda asks, “Are you, at least, happy?”

Pietro considers it for a moment, before saying, “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

The Knicks versus Nets game is starting in thirty minutes, and the thick crowd is scrambling to get their pre-game ritual done; long lines in the restroom, the merchandise stores and the snack bars, fans taking group photos in-front of giant cutouts of NBA players. You stand in the middle of it all, a giant bag of popcorn in each of your arms, when Yelena shows up alone at the assigned gate for your seats.

Her blonde hair is up in a tight bun, with just a few stray strands falling in front of her eyes. She’s wearing considerably less makeup than she wore in the club, which you think makes her even more beautiful.

Not that your preference has anything to do with how Yelena presents herself, and you certainly wouldn’t let her know that.

“Where are your friends?” you ask, eyes darting everywhere behind her..

“They canceled at the last minute. Kate got called on an assignment.” Yelena says with a huff.

“What a waste.”

“Kate sponsored the tickets and she doesn’t mind. It’s just her change.”

“Kate, huh?” you teasingly look at Yelena.

“Really, Y/N?” Yelena mutters, feigning offense. “You’re breaking my heart, you know? I said I like you. Don’t pawn me off to someone else.”

Your cheeks warm at her directness.

“Shit, sorry. You’re right. I was being a jerk.”

“You were.”

You offer her one of your priced popcorn. “Will this make it better?” you ask, lower lip jutting out into what you hope is an adorable pout.

Yelena takes your peace offering and then candidly says, “Fine. But stop being so cute or you’re going to regret it.”

You flush even further and feel a jolt deep in the pit of your stomach.

Somehow, the game is the last thing on your mind right now.

The Knicks are down ten at the half, and Yelena’s trash talk isn’t letting up anytime soon. You’re on your third bottle of beer, and the intimacy of how Yelena is half-leaning on your side, her weight solid against your own body, is keeping you tethered more than anything.

You positively look like a couple, despite the fact that neither of you has acknowledged that this has turned into a date.

“Wanna bet on how many bricks your team will make in the second half?” Yelena goads with a self-satisfied smirk.

“They’ll find their shooting, you’ll see.” you say with a toothy grin, unfazed. Truthfully, the games’ outcome is the farthest of your concerns now that Yelena’s fingers are inching towards your lap as she shares an anecdote about her workmates. She tells the story rather animatedly, and you can’t help but be mesmerized by the girl you practically grew up with.

Towards the end of Yelena’s story, the crowd around you goes wild. You look up to see the kiss cam land on you and Yelena.

You both shake your head in refusal, gazing up at yourselves on the huge monitor in the middle of the arena. People start booing at the two of you, and as a consolation, you put your arm around Yelena’s shoulders and kiss her on the forehead. It’s enough to pacify the crowd and the kiss cam moves on to another couple who gamely makes out in front of everyone.

When the moment passes, you suddenly realize what you’ve just done. The line has been dangerously toed, and you sheepishly retract your arm the same time Yelena straightens her posture.

“I’m s–”

“Don’t,” Yelena stops you before you could utter an apology. “I wanted to kiss you, but I was worried about overstepping any boundaries.”

“Nat won’t be happy about this.” you murmur, still keeping a respectable distance.

“For once, don’t think about what other people want. Think about what you want.”

The remaining two quarters is not enough to think just that.

You see Yelena off to her apartment after the game. Sharing a ride is cheaper, since your own apartment is less than thirty minutes away by foot.

“...and that’s how Kate and I met,” Yelena concludes after a minute-long summary of how she ended up crashing with her current bestfriend. “Why do I feel like I’ve been talking too much about myself for the last hour?”

“There’s more than a decade of stuff for us to catch up on,” you say, feeling a bit regretful about the time that has passed of not being in each other’s life. “There’s a lot I don’t know about this new you.”

“What “new” me? It doesn’t feel like I’ve changed too much.”

“You have,” you say. “But you’re different in a good way. I like both Yelenas.”

Yelena ducks her head. “You’ve changed as well. But judging from how much fun we had in each other’s company, I say the important bits of us remained the same.” she says.

Your eyes sweep over her. She’s right. She’s just Yelena, Natasha’s younger sister and your first love. Beneath the changes that had accumulated over the years, your soul still recognizes her soul.

“I had a really great time.” you say before you both turn the corner to her place.

Through the remainder of the distance to her apartment, your pace slows down to a crawl. It’s a familiar ritual: the walk to her doorstep, fishing out for keys, playing for a while with those keys, an exchange of awkward smiles, and then–

The pinnacle of a first date, where the magic happens.

Yelena shuffles her feet, fiddling with her keychain. “This is a date, right?”

You swallow dryly. “Yelena–”

“If you mention my sister’s name again, I might have to strangle you.”

“It’s not just Nat,” Out of habit, you thoughtlessly reach for your left ring finger to play with the wedding band that is no longer there. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Yelena.

“Is it Wanda?” Yelena crosses her arms in a slightly defensive stance. “Are you still in love with her?”

The question has been plaguing you long before Yelena drew it out in the open.

Shaking your head, you lean in and kiss her.

The next morning, Wanda’s at your door at exactly six. She texted you thirty minutes ago to inform you that she’s on her way but received no reply. Now she’s worried that she might wake some of your neighbors with her forceful knocks. If not, then Sparky’s yelps certainly would.

It takes a few more seconds before she hears your familiar footsteps on the other side of the door. The door swings open and Wanda’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you; in your pajamas; hair messy from sleep; fabric marks on the left side of your face, indicating that you still sleep on your side in the direction of where Wanda used to be when she slept next to you.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Wanda can’t help how quickly her smile reaches her eyes.

“Wanda? What are you doing here?” you mumble, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes.

Wanda frowns. Did you forget?

Sparky takes it upon himself to remind you with a small whine as he lifts his paw to scratch at your leg.

You look down to find him with his tail a blur, wagging from side to side, and it automatically puts a lazy smile on your lips. “Hey, buddy!”

“You agreed to take him for the weekend.” Wanda says slowly, gauging your reaction. “But if the plan has changed, then–”

Your eyes widen when, at last, the realization sinks in. “No. Sorry. I just lost track of time. I didn’t know it’s Saturday already. I still want to take him.” you say, flushing in embarrassment.

“Great,” Wanda breathes out, and then motioning inside your apartment, says, “Can I, uhm, use the toilet before I–”

“Of course!” you exclaim, opening the door wider to let her in. “Sorry, I’m still out of sorts.”

“Rough night?”

“Hmm,” You hum pleasantly. “Something like that. The bathroom’s that way.”

Wanda doesn’t miss your little indulgement in reminiscing last night’s affairs. Definitely not ‘something like that’. She heads to the bathroom with Sparky following behind her. He curls on the floor as he waits for Wanda to finish her business.

“Do you want some coffee? Or maybe not coffee. I have…” you yell out, searching the fridge. “Beer and soda.”

“Water is fine.” Wanda says as she approaches the kitchen.

She picks a chair that’s nearest to the counter where you’re busy making coffee and pouring Wanda a glass of water.

Wanda surveys your new home. The lack of decor and the monochromatic paint job screams Natasha; the best friend who’s attached to your hip, but is obviously not present at the moment.

“Where’s Natasha?” you hear Wanda ask.

You think whether or not you should disclose the news about Natasha. You figure it’s not necessary anymore for Wanda to keep tabs on your friends. “She’s visiting a family member upstate.”

“Oh, I didn’t know she had family,” Wanda states, feeling a little silly. Natasha’s an important person in your life, and this is the kind of information she’s supposed to know already.

“It’s good she’s spending time with them.” she adds.

“Yeah.” you mumble, feeling remorseful about the little lie. “Made me think of mom. I’m actually heading to Montauk later. I’m taking Sparky there if that’s okay with you?”

Wanda gives an enthusiastic nod. “Just don’t forget to pack some water on the trip.”

“And some healthy treats too, I know. I’ve got it, Sparky’s Mom.” you say with a quiet chuckle as you bring over a tray of water and two large mugs of black coffee.

Wanda rolls her eyes at the nickname, secretly elated.

“It’s like we’re co-parenting him.” she blurts out without thinking.

By the look on your face, the idea of it hits you in a different way.

“Is…that what we’re doing here?” you say, only half-teasing.

“I’m not insinuating anything. It’s just somewhat comparable if you think about it.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and it drives Wanda on the edge.

“I know I’m the one who wanted kids, but I’m glad we didn’t have them when it happened.” you say, and it surprises Wanda beyond anything–the trivial way in which you said it.

“I don’t know, Y/N, ” Wanda whispers. “Maybe if we had kids, things would’ve been different.”

Your eyes are unreadable as you ask, “Different how?”

Wanda couldn’t think of anything to say except what’s really on her mind.

“Maybe we could’ve avoided separating altogether.”

“Because you think having kids would have made me stay married to you?” you say, in a tone of voice that makes Wanda’s knees buckle and her heart squeeze in regret of her words.

“Because maybe it would have stopped me,” Wanda says in a rush. It’s the wrong thing to say, but it might even be more wrong if she chooses to lie about it. “Maybe it would have given me a different purpose. Would have made me into someone who isn’t selfish and didn’t lose sight of what truly mattered–”

“You’re saying that our childlessness is what motivated you to cheat on me.” you say, and Wanda watches you flex your fingers; shaking away some numbness.

“That’s not–” Wanda grapples for words.

There’s none.

“I didn’t think this through.” you whisper to yourself, eerily calm and collected.

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks frantically.

In the absence of words, you merely look at her with a pained expression.

“Y/n?” Wanda gapes at you and her soulful green eyes widen in panic. “Wait, please, I’m sorry. If we can just–”

“I’ll drop Sparky at your apartment on Monday.”

Wanda pauses momentarily at the door; but you’re already walking back to your room, indifferent to what she chooses to do.

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