#That's the positive spin on ��he's quietly dealing with a lot while next to his friends and they're not noticing and he's not sharing" right

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯. — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞? Overview: Y/N tells Mike information to help their lost friend, she also heads to the search party for Will with Victor. As they explore, the past unravels and there is an odd occurrence that happens. Navigation & Mixtape

Tag: @samiyamuntaha @thepowerstoner @ughgclden @mqyfield @cooperdaysgf

“So right by Mirkwood right?” Mike Wheeler’s voice peeped after listening to Y/N’s remark of details about what she heard at the Hawkins Police Department a few hours ago. It was around 7 pm, right around to where the girl was getting ready prone to the search party being held with a few of the residents of the town.

Y/N hummed a positive response to clearing out his doubts just in case he was confused by any means, this wasn’t going to help Mike, it was going to help Will get a faster chance to be retrieved to his home again.

Although Hopper disapproved the request of letting young people in the search, Y/N and Victor were eventually allowed to come along, “Yeah, but remember you have to be somewhat far from the real search group okay? We don’t want you to get caught.”

”Mike! What are you doing?” Nancy’s faint voice was caught on the other line of the phone, leading Mike to leave the phone out, Y/N overhearing them argue over the dumbest things.

Prior to the noises of Mike pushing Nancy out of the basement she guessed, the boy came back on the line, sighing loudly, “Sorry about that, Nancy gets so annoying, I still don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

”She could be a priss sometimes,” She responds, breathily giggling, clenching the ceramic telephone tighter, “But she’s still my friend if you could say.”

Continuing with their conversation based on the plan, it was perfectly assembled, safe with a high possibility of finding Will, even if it had been a day. Will couldn’t have gone far anyways. Y/N was about to speak, but was suddenly caught off guard as soon as she heard her dad in the hallway, getting prepared for the search.

”Oh shit! I have to go now,” Y/N hushed in a subtle tone, trying her best to keep away Hopper from listening to their discussion, “Remember to be home by 9 at least with flashlights. Stay safe Mike.”

The line went awfully silent, placing back the phone to its regular position on the handset, while it being attached to the wall. Rapidly, spinning to look at her father, trying to act as normal as possible, his brows furrowed at her.

”What were you doing?”

Shrugging it off calmly, Y/N breathily giggles while she put her hands on her hips saying, “I was just checking in with Victor, that’s all.”

Hopper’s eyes widened at her point, clicking his tongue as he started grabbing on his sweater for the frosty night ahead, “Funny, but I just called his mom to let him know that he was coming.”

”Right..” Y/N casually crossed her arms, cursing under her breath before she showed any subtle reaction to what she was up to. Play it cool.

In the silence of her looking around the messy home by the front door, Hopper sharply whistles while slinging the car keys in the air to catch them, making Y/N follow right behind me, pretending as if the few minutes didn’t occur. Feeling the breeze of the autumn air, both the relatives made their way to the vehicle, on their way to the small yet important search for this boy, Will Byers.

As the road got narrower and narrower, the car drove deeper into the dark woods, where Y/N could see the slender trees and branches surrounding them. The starry sky lit up the place with a soft tone of dim blues and grays painted across it on the chilly night. Watching out the window, Y/N squinted her eyes to see a figure from afar waving towards the vehicle, a familiar figure to be Victor. Hopper drove nearer, the headlights being able to guide him to the stop where a small crowd of people were surrounding along with the patrols.

Hopper cleared his throat, while he pushed the breaks down and turned to his daughter, “Hey kid, remember don’t be-“

Without hesitation, Y/N swung the car door open to step out of it, hustled her way to her so called “acquaintance”, Victor. It was more like a friend but she didn’t want to be that close with the boy. Victor wearily smiling at her.

“You seem tired,” Y/N creeps up next to him, watching the small groups of people around the mounds of dead leaves and twigs gathered for the search.

Victor’s voice brings the girl’s attention back to him, he clears his throat, “I mean dealing with Flo is already a lot for me to handle, so I suppose I am.” The two silently chuckled, the frost getting to their noses, “I heard there’s gonna be a chance of rain.”

”Really?”

“Yes really! Haven’t you seen the forecast? I’m even wearing a jacket!” Victor squinted his eyes, his eyewear raising up on the bridge of his nose and the girl shrugged aimlessly.

Y/N scoffed, shoving him slightly, “I think there’s way more important things we need to focus on instead of the weather.”

From afar, Hopper and the policemen indicated all the volunteers to gather around on the sidewalk, near the entrance of the forest. The flashing blue and red lights were turned off from the cars, everyone else preparing for the upcoming search.

”Okay guys!” The chief shouted to direct everyone, “We need to stay in the 5 mile radius from where Will was last scene! Everyone please be careful and remember to blow the whistle if you find anything at all!”

Heads were nodded, agreeing to the directions, Officers Powell and Callahan guided two separate groups from different directions, Y/N having to come along with the third group including her dad. Although the girl was 16, her father wanted to take the best care for her, after Sarah. He wanted to keep her as close as possible, but he knew she was getting older. It was just for today, he can protect her for today, now being aware of a kid disappearing in their town. Maybe one of them was next.

“I guess that’s your call genius,” Y/N told Victor as she pointed towards Powell’s group who were walking to the right side of the woods, the people disappearing one by one into the darkness.

Not budging at all, Victor stood his ground saying, “I think I’ll stick with you for now, there’s just soccer moms hoarding the group for Powell, he has a fan club.”

“You’re not wrong Vic,” She sniggered quietly but failed miserably, letting out a subtle loud laugh, both of the teenagers walking behind their group, down a steep hill leading to the inner nature.

Rushing down first to the bottom, the tall brunette reached his hand out for Y/N who was still at the top, to help her come down to his level, “M’lady?”

”Why thank you, what a gentleman!” Y/N sarcastically gasps, gripping onto his hand to steady herself below, after they jogged closer to the group, flicking their flashlights on to carry on.

Everyone glanced above the branches, the moon shining as the crickets chirped. The crisp wind running across their faces, making the trees shuffle loudly. As flashlights led them with its brightness, they all searched and searched, for any trace of the boy around the area.

Half an hour later, the air became cooler than usual, almost bringing a frostbite to their bare hands. The sound of branches and dead leaves crunching over the few people above them. In the silence, Y/N stayed near Victor and her father, hearing shouts for Will. The realization hit the girl, they were looking for lost Will, Will hasn’t appeared, he was probably in some sort of danger. She fastened her grip on the flashlight, looking around more closely, along with the rest.

”He’s a good student,” Someone decides to break the silence of the leaves and twigs crunching under their feet, Victor and Y/N turned their attention to him as they strolled in the woods.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow up and looks towards the teacher’s direction after the statement, “What?”

”Will. He’s a good student. Great one actually,” He elaborates, smiling sheepishly to lend his hand in front of the chief to introduce himself, “I don’t think we’ve met, Scott Clarke. Teacher, Hawkins Middle. Earth and biology.”

“Don’t you remember he was my teacher back in the day?”

Victor nods agreeing with Y/N’s statement from behind, Hopper reluctantly trying to remember his daughter’s middle school teacher, still not recalling since in those past years where fighting for Y/N’s custody between the parents, “I always had a distaste for science.”

”Well maybe you had a bad teacher,” Mr. Clarke remarks, checking if his flashlight was still operating, trudging closer to the group of three ahead of him.

”Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work,” Hopper scoffs jokingly, Y/N doing the same as well, remembering his shitty science teacher from his past years while he studied at Hawkins High.

”Ratliff?” The teacher ponders, realizing that the same teacher still resides in Hawkins after all these years, “You bet. She’s still kicking around believe it or not.”

Victor elaborates in between them, sliding his hands onto his pockets, “I had her when I was in eighth grade a few years back.”

”Oh I believe it Victor. Mummies never die, so they tell me,” Hopper smiles, trying to get his daughter to notice but she dozed off beyond the sight of the woods, ”Sarah, my youngest, galaxies, the universe whatnot.. She always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going down here, I never needed to look elsewhere.”

Y/N flickered her eyes towards her father’s direction after hearing the special name, it wasn’t so special to one, but to her, it was. Sarah, Sarah Hopper her little sister, but soon enough the teacher interrupted, “Maybe I’ll get her in my class I-“

“No, she uh.. she lives with her mom in the city,” He cuts the man off from his statement, Victor widening his eyes on Y/N’s side, knowing fully that wasn’t true.

The girl beside the tall boy looked back at his dark eyes, signaling him to be quiet, Y/N was aware of the fact that everyone in Hawkins knew Sarah’s death. Just because of her own blabbermouth, Steve told everyone including the parents her little secret the young female confessed to.

As much as her dad still wants to deny the fact the little one was gone and resting in peace, staying of his delusion Y/N wished she could have. It was a promise. A promise that everything was okay and there wasn’t nothing to worry about, almost some sort of fairy tale where everything had its happy endings with a happy family which wasn’t it.

“Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it.” Hopper clears the air, trudging past them farther into the dark eerie woods, Y/N and Victor repeating his steps behind him.

Once they were  out of the picture and range from hearing, a middle aged woman spoke up next to the teacher, in a hushed tone saying, “She died a few years back.”

”Sorry?” Mr. Clarke shifted his head in bewilderment towards the lady for any clarification from the inadequate statement given.

”His kid.”

The teacher’s eyes widened, observing the two family members mumbling inaudible words behind the brisk trees of the cool night. He didn’t know the Hoppers hid their family, they never talked much about family when it came to projects when Y/N was younger. It seemed like something ever so private not like where many kids shared experiences with their loved ones, they always kept everything about their family closed up. Almost a mystery.

Y/N could hear the soft mumbles of the quiet conversation being exchanged by the lady and her former teacher, she felt sick knowing that her father stays in the delusion of her sister being alive, lying. Lying wasn’t so hard for her, Y/N was almost a professional at it when it came to helping the party in situations. But lying to her dad was different, it was the both of them against the horrid place called the world.

“Is Sarah going to be back?” A small girl walked over to the grown adults who stood at the front door, puffy eyes showing on their faces, as they held a plastic wristband and stuffed tiger after a long day from not seeing her sister. It was already near midnight.

Without any move, the woman, who to be seen was the girl’s mother, bursted into tears, her husband catching her into his arms. The youngling worriedly watched her parents shed tears, a middle aged woman got up from the couch to comfort both of them. Whispers and mumbles being shared between the adults, bringing more tears.

”Mommy?” The girl steadily crept next to her mom’s leg, wrapping her short arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the woman’s body, “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Sobs were still heard from the mother, the two of the women held each other tightly while the tall man let go from their hug, kneeling next to the girl’s level, “Y/N, kid-“

”Dad, where’s Sarah?!” Y/N shakily shouted, her stomach feeling uneasy, with her sister not being found. What happened to Sarah? She knew Sarah was going to get better. Why was mom crying? So many questions filled her head, eyes welling up, her father hugging her tightly with all the hurt and love. Y/N noticed the wristband that her father was holding, she peered closely to see a sloppy handwriting shown as the name Sarah, written all over it with the date when she was sent to the hospital.

”Sarah is... gone.”

The little’s watery eyes widened, her bottom lip trembling, she threw her arms around her father, her head leaning onto his shoulder. Her little sister was gone, she was alone now, her heart crumbling into a million pieces. Sarah, Sarah wasn’t here anymore. But it seemed so surreal, it was only yesterday the two sisters laughed about one of the nurses dropping her cup of coffee while getting chemotherapy.

“Dad.. Can she come back?”

Sadly grinning, Hopper wiped the girl’s chubby face from her tears, shaking his head, “I’m sorry kid, she’s not coming back.”

”But she has to! Sarah has to come home with us,” Y/N choked in her tears, her eyes becoming swollen, grabbing the wristband from her father’s large hand, “Sarah can’t leave me alone here. She promised she would stay.”

”Y/N, I know this is difficult but your sister left us. She’s in a better place now.”

Making her cry even more, Y/N’s mother rapidly kneeled next to her husband and daughter, she sniffed, grabbing onto her daughter, “We promised Sarah we would love each other and always stay safe. Forever.”

”Promise?”

Both of the girl’s parents joined in for a tight hug, Y/N fastening her arms around the two others, “Promise. We promise you sweet pea.”

”Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice boasted in the ears of Y/N, she focused her attention back to the voice. There was no one beside her by the time she looked around, it was the sounds of the wind and her alone. Her flashlight flickered in her hands, she shook it vigorously to try and turn it back on, but there was nothing coming out of it, just a dimly lit tone guiding her way. Nothing else in her sight except for the trees and moonlight, she tried her best to not overthink this and make her way back to the group.

Every turn she made in the paths, it led her to nowhere, noises filled the aura. Slowly, she began to worry, she wasn’t coming back to the group. Y/N’s head filled itself with thoughts, there was no way she could be lost, last time she was with Victor, rambling about the weather. Where was she? Looking up, she felt small droplets of water dripped onto her face above, Y/N squinted her eyes to avoid the drizzle. The water fell down slowly until it started raining heavier in the air, she wiped her face to dry it off and continue to try to find her way back.

“Dad!” Y/N shouted, wrapping her arms over herself, her hair becoming soaked along the time. She kept shouting and shouting, worry filling her in. The girl was afraid. What if she went missing like Will? Oh no.

Without a precaution, a branch from behind was heard. Y/N whipped her head to the direction, seeing a small human with a white gown rapidly run off to opposite direction, the rain blurring her eyes. Was that Will? Curious, she picked up speed to follow the boy, it may be Will. A chance of relief rushing in as her adrenaline sped up, almost running faster. “Will! It’s me!”

The boy didn’t stop, sprinting faster with his bare feet. Y/N still yelled, slowing her pace down, then picking it back up, going through the trees. An idea came to her, tugging at her metal whistle to her lips, blowing on it. The sound coming off it, maybe attracting people to find her and the boy, it has to be Will. Using her arms to run faster, she suddenly trips over a thick log after not seeing below her because of the wind, sending her to the floor. She whimpers as she felt her ankle burn in a pain, whistling even more.

From the distance, few people to what she could tell came forward to her, rain soaking over her head. Thunder being heard far away, Victor came into the picture to kneel down next to Y/N.

”Hey are you okay?” He worriedly checks on her, receiving a nod. Victor looked around for any possible wounds since he found her on the ground, “We couldn’t find you!”

Y/N hardly paid attention to him and looked afar to see if the boy would turn up again. She held Victor’s jacket to pull him closer, “I think I saw Will! He was running through there I-“

”Chief Hopper coming through, excuse me,” A voice from the crowd of people called in, Hopper bringing himself forward to find his soaking daughter on the ground pointing toward another direction. “What’s wrong?”

Victor moves to tell Hopper while being next to shaking and wet Y/N, “She saw Will.”

[startanewdream]

I would love a number 3 Jily from the kissing prompt list.

Also sorry I ordered this like I'm at a fast food restaurant 😂

Hiiii! Considering how long it took me to answer it, it was not fast at all!

Thanks for this prompt! I thought a lot how to fill the idea of a Jily enemies-to-lovers kiss because I thought by the time they shared kisses they would be a lot more friends... then I messed a bit with canon and found this way. Hope you enjoyed it!

Set during their Fifth Year.

Read on AO3 or below:

Seven minutes in heaven

Sirius holds his chin languidly as he considers Peter’s question.

‘Three,’ is his answer, unashamed and not pretentious in a way that James can’t help but feel jealous.

Three .

Sirius kissed three people already and James has never kissed anyone.

It shouldn’t be a competition, because he doesn’t compete with Sirius — for most of the things they are equal, their grades always so close that for a while the professors thought they had to be cheating in exams.

But Sirius kissed three people and he doesn’t even notice all the stares he gets. It doesn’t seem fair.

I’m better than him at Quidditch , James tries to tell himself, but somehow this thought doesn’t bring him any satisfaction. While he was scoring goals, Sirius was scoring something else and though it’s not a competition he can’t help but think he is losing .

The bottle spins again and again and James eyes it with uneasiness. He will pick dare if the bottle points at him, because he always chooses dare on principle, but this time he knows he just doesn’t want anyone to ask how many people he has kissed before.

But the bottle stops at Lily Evans, who watches carefully the person at the other end before saying: ‘Dare.’

Mary grins mischievously. ‘I dare you to tell me who is the most gorgeous bloke in our year.’

James almost rolls his eyes at that, because everyone always says it’s Sirius so it’s not even an interesting question; but to his surprise, Evans just shakes her head, looking flustered.

‘No, that’s against the rules. You can’t ask a question in a dare.’

‘You are no fun, Lily,’ Mary answers, and James feels like this is some inside joke between them; he wonders what's the discussion about who Evans thinks it's gorgeous. ‘Fine, I dare you to try seven minutes in heaven.’

‘You can’t involve anyone else in a dare —’

‘I am not choosing anyone now . You’ll wait there until the next dare.’

Evans seems to consider this before she nods, grimacing, obviously not happy. The rest just watches Evans and Mary; they were the ones that came with that muggle game for animating that chilly October Friday night, and they are the ones that decide the rules.

‘If you are picked, I’ll be spending those seven minutes turning your life into hell,’ Evans warns Mary, her voice amiably, and James almost smiles. Sometimes Evans is funny. ‘The first broom closet to the right, okay?’

Mary nods.

‘What’s seven minutes in hell?,’ Remus asks, curious, watching Evans leaving the Common Room. James feels a little impressed; there are only fifteen minutes until curfew, and for good-girl Lily Evans to risk a detention, she must really take the game seriously.

‘In heaven,’ Mary corrects, grinning. ‘It’s a dare where two people spend seven minutes together in a room. Or in this case, the first broom closet to the right leaving the Common Room.’

‘And what do people do then?’

‘You’ll see if you pick dare,’ Mary answers genially. She indicates the bottle to Remus. ‘Spin it?’

Remus does, but now he is blushing. James looks around; Sirius doesn’t look particularly excited, but Peter has the flushed expression on his face, a little dreamy, and James knows he is far away. Or rather his thoughts are in the broom closet next to the Common Room.

Seven minutes in heaven with Evans ? James tries to imagine it, but he can’t, not really. It wouldn’t be heaven ; she would fulfill her promise of making it a hell, because he and Evans don’t really get along. She gets annoyed with every little thing he and his friends do, never cracking a smile and, most of all, always sticking with her annoying Slytherin friend. Snivellus . There is no way that seven minutes with Evans could ever be fun…

‘James?’

He blinks, coming back to reality. Sirius is looking at him with an innocent expression that doesn’t fit him.

‘What?’

‘I asked, truth or dare?’

‘Dare,’ answers James without thinking, because he can’t risk saying truth ( no, I have never kissed anyone, I’m a failure, ok? ), before he realizes what this means.

And then everyone is smirking at him, knowing looks on their faces that makes James want to flush, except James Potter doesn’t get embarrassed. Not in public. Not evidently. He has an image to uphold.

‘Go on, then, James,’ says Sirius, indicating the portrait. ‘I dare you to spend seven minutes with Evans. Heaven or hell, it’s up to you.’

The girls giggle, and James raises quietly, pretending it’s everyday that he gets to be in a broom closet with a girl, that this is very normal for him. He grins as smugly as he can, but the smile vanishes as soon as he turns his back to him.

Seven minutes in a broom closet with a girl . Not any girl. Lily Evans, really?

And then as he is leaving, he hears Mary’s whisper: ‘Maybe Lily will finally kiss someone, you think?’

Hmm, James considers. So Evans has never kissed anyone either?

He thinks about it; it’s not like he has paid attention to Evans so far, but he knows she has been on a date before. He may have heard something about her meeting the Hufflepuff prefect in the last Hogsmeade weekend, but that was not a thought that had bothered him.

But if he’d think about Lily Evans in a way that he had never really thought before, what would he think? Well, James is not immune to girls , not at all, but it’s just he never looked at Evans because he should feel attracted to someone who is nice to him, right? Like Emme Vance; she winked at him after the first game of the season, and he’d felt something warm inside him. If only he had not been distracted by a comment from Sirius, then he’d have gone talk to her and then his never-kiss-anyone problem would have already been fixed…

But since this is a problem he apparently shares with Evans, maybe, just maybe, they can solve it together?

It’s not a bad idea, he thinks, and when he opens the door of the broom closet, for a split second, he considers that it’s a great idea. Now he is positively considering Lily Evans as someone kissable, for the first time he really notices the thing he may already have noticed about her before, but disconsidered only because he and Evans don’t get along.

And the things is that Evans is a girl and James likes girls. And she is pretty, with her long auburn hair that falls on her shoulders, that fair skin that seems so soft, her full pink lips, and her green eyes that seem to shine under the light coming from the open door. Then his eyes fall to her chest, to the curves that weren't there in the 11-year-old Evans he remembers annoying since their First Year, and, yes, Evans is a girl and James likes girls and his body has a sudden urge to remind him of this.

He looks hastily at her eyes, hoping she didn’t notice where he was staring and trying to look nice and very kissable too; but the first words that come out of Evans’ mouth are not encouraging.

‘Oh, it’s you .’

Her contempt is nearly enough to make him regret everything he thought, but his stupid teenage body isn’t always on the same page as his mind.

He closes the door, only the dim light of the lamp above them illuminating the small closet.

‘Let me guess,’ he begins, looking for the way to most annoy her. It’s a favourite pastime of his and much easier than dealing with his sudden… attraction… to her. ‘You wished it was Sirius .’

She raises her eyebrows, not impressed. ‘I was hoping it was Mary,’ she says without any shame. ‘I had planned to transform one of these buckets into a rat, she hates them.’

‘You weren’t kidding with those seven minutes in hell, were you?’

‘It’s her fault for picking the worst dare,’ Evans says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. ‘Seven minutes in heaven , as if.’

His annoyance flares up. He still thinks Evans is gorgeous, especially with the way she crosses her arms under her chest, highlighting some curves very beautifully, but they don’t get along and they never will.

‘Your friends seem to think you’d take advantage of those seven minutes,’ he says, smirking, watching her eyes narrow in what it’s her favourite expression for him. He adores pissing her off. ‘Never kissed anyone, Evans?’

She blushes, a pinkness colouring her cheeks in the most charming way and James wants to touch her face, feel his cold hands burning with the warmth of her skin.

No, stop it , he shouldn’t want to touch her. He doesn’t stand her. And vice versa.

‘Don’t talk about you don’t know, Potter,’ she tells him angrily, but it’s just the same anger that James would use if the situation was reversed and he knows he hit a nerve.

‘What, been kissing Snivellus?’

‘Don’t call him that,’ she answers immediately. ‘And we are just friends, stop being creepy.’

‘But would you consider kissing his mouth? ‘Cause that’s creepy, Evans.’

‘I said we are only friends. You might try someday.’

‘I have friends,’ James says smugly, and Evans rolls eyes, but doesn’t reply. ‘If you never kissed anyone, what did you and Smith do last Hogsmeade weekend? Held hands like you were twelve?’

She searches her pocket for her wand, but it’s not there, so Evans throws him a look that would curse him if she had this power.

‘It’s none of your business, Potter. And I haven’t seen you having any dates to talk about my life!’

It’s true, but James can’t let her know that. ‘Oh, noticing if I have dates, Evans? What, you were jealous ?’

He takes a step closer to her, enjoying the way she just looks more nervous. That’s something more familiar for him, annoying Evans, and it’s much more comfortable to deal with, especially because if he is not concentrating, he would notice how she smells very nice.

And James is not thinking about that, of course.

‘I would be sorry for anyone who has to endure a date with you,’ she answers evenly. ‘Trust me, these seven minutes are taking way too long — imagine a full day.’

‘One might think you were imagining a full day with me, Evans.’

‘Only if I was in a nightmare.’

‘So I do appear in your dreams.’

‘Nightmares,’ she repeats, her eyes pure steel as she glares at him; James should notice the warning that look gives (he shouldn’t push her too much ), but for once he can only think on how green her eyes are, like the Forbidden Forest at night.

And he enjoys too much walking in the Forbidden Forest.

‘Maybe if you had a date with someone else you’d stop wondering about my dates,’ she declares, hissing. ‘Do you know what I imagine, Potter? You never had any date.’

‘I have,’ he lies easily, his hand running absently through his hair. ‘Just because I don’t go showing off about it —’

‘You? Not showing off? When was the last time you did something and didn’t brag about it?’

‘A gentleman does not show off,’ he says, which is something his father told him once but James didn’t think about it until now.

‘If you were a gentleman,’ she replies, a knowing smirk on her face that tells her she knows she hit a nerve with him too. Evans knows he never kissed anyone, and he can see her smugness about it, and if she tells anyone — Merlin, if she tells Snivellus he will never survive it…

‘Do you know what I imagine , Evans?’, he says, throwing her words back at her desperately. ‘That Smith kissed you and you were horrible at it.’

Her flushes intensifies, but if it’s shame or anger, James can’t know. She uncrosses her arms, coming closer, finger pointing at him menacingly.

‘He didn’t — you don’t know what you are talking about!’

‘I bet you don’t know how to snog.’

‘I can kiss just fine , Potter!’, she replies angrily (it’s anger after all, James realizes) and then she does the last thing James really imagined she would do.

She presses her lips against his.

And for two seconds, that’s all they do, really; he doesn’t know what’s keeping her immobile, and he almost asks if her brain has just turned to jelly too, because that’s what’s happening to him.

And then, in the fogness of his numb mind, other things emerge quietly. Her perfume, so close now that it’s more powerful than any other smell in the closet; the warmth of her skin, very different from that cold night; the green in her open eyes as she stares at him, as in shock as he feels, before the eyes are closed, stopping him from reading her emotions; and the sweetness of her lips, a hint of caramel that he suddenly wishes he can taste properly.

His eyes close and, in the darkness, all he can feel is Lily Evans.

They take a step closer in a synchrony that James knows they never had before, and then Evans’ hands are holding his arm and James holds her face. He moves his lips very tentatively, wanting to share more of that (whatever that is), and Evans raises on her tiptoes, her lips parting just the slightest. He feels her breath — it’s the butterbeer, a part of his mind realizes as if he should already know — and suddenly he wants to taste the drink too in her mouth.

(Is it possible to get drunk on a non-alcoholic drink? Because he feels intoxicated).

His tongue touches her lips, again tentatively (he has no idea what he’s doing, but so far things seem right), and she parts her lips even more, allowing him in. James has another moment of panic ( what is he supposed to do now? ), but then Evans’ tongue meet his and this feels right too.

Not just right. It sends shivers down his spine, it makes the world spins around him as if he is afloat and the only thing connecting to Earth is Evans’ lips and the way they move and Merlin why hasn’t he ever kissed Evans before ? He feels disconnected, as if he is watching them kissing from above, and James nearly laughs at the idea that he is snogging Lily Evans in a broom closet, that’s so unlikely — didn’t they hate each other?…

Then she breaks apart, jumping violently backwards, a look of terror on her face, and when James opens his eyes he sees that along with that kiss Evans was sharing the same thoughts as him.

She was in a broom closet snogging James Potter .

He breathes hard, urging air to fill his lungs; apparently kissing stops his natural reaction of breathing — though not other reactions. His body seems to be working overtime, judging by the way his heart is beating too fast in his chest.

Evans is out of breath too; he sees her chest rising and falling fast — then Evans notices his stares and she crosses her arms protectively, recovering faster than him.

‘I told you I could kiss,’ she says, voice full of dignity and he envies her for that.

James couldn’t form a sentence if his life depended on it.

‘You will not tell this to anyone,’ she adds, eyes narrowed again in what used to be James' favourite expression. Now he isn't sure. ‘I — I will deny it if anyone asks, so you will just look like a liar.’ She watches him. ‘Potter?’

‘Okay,’ he whispers, though he is not sure what he just agreed to. His brain is still not functioning properly.

‘Let’s go,’ she says, walking past him and opening the door, leaving just a hint of her perfume in the air.

He follows her, more on instinct than anything, surprised with the fact that he can walk .

People cheer when they enter the Common Room and James steals a glance at Evans. She looks normal, undisturbed, not at all like she has just shared a kiss with James that he… that he really wants to repeat.

‘You still have two minutes!,’ Mary notices, shaking her head disapprovingly at Evans, who just shrugs.

‘Two more minutes and one of us might not leave there alive,’ she says casually, sitting next to Mary.

‘James?,’ Sirius calls him, watching him closely, and James forces a smile upon his face.

‘Evans is right. One of us might not survive.’

They laugh, and James thinks he handled it well, half-truth as it is; everyone knows they don’t get along, he and Evans, they never had, and yet…

The bottle spins again, and now Remus is struggling to say who was his first crush, but James is not listening, not really paying attention to the game. His lips are still tingling, that lingering taste of butterbeer on his mouth, and he can’t help but steal glances at Evans — next time, he thinks feverish, he will let his hands (that stayed reprovingly still ) touch her face, hold her closer. Next time he will kiss her neck, will hear her sigh into his lips.

He will know what to do next time, he promises, but Evans never once looks in his direction.

The bottle stops pointing at her and it’s James turns to ask.

‘Truth or dare, Evans?,’ he asks, his voice sounding nicer than he ever talked to her before, while his hand runs through his hair nervously. His smile is confident, because Evans has to share that urge too, right?

But Evans eyes him as if she’d rather look at anything else and her voice is nearly dismayed when she calls ‘Dare’.

James doesn’t hesitate. ‘I dare you to go out with me, Evans.’

People whistle, but Evans doesn’t look amused. ‘It’s against the rules involving others in a dare, Potter,’ she tells him, coldly, raising. ‘And I think I’m done with this stupid game.’

She leaves the Common Room, and Mary throws a confused look at James before following her friend. Sirius looks at James with a baffled expression.

‘You stayed with her for five minutes and decided to ask her out? What happened there?’

‘Nothing,’ James says at ease. ‘I just realized Evans isn’t so bad.’

It’s a simple way of putting it, but despite what Evans may think about him, James will keep his word; that kiss (his first kiss) will remain between them only.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Whatever Words Exist

StudentTeacher!Cal x Reader (Gender Neutral). Like mostly fluff. 

Reader and Calum have only met briefly. But when the connection is this magnetic, you don’t press fate. 

Masterlist (semi-hiatus) 

_____________________

Calum readjusts the strap on his backpack, getting the bag hitched back right on his shoulder. Just up the hill he can see a gathering of people, a general human mass but still too far away for him to make out any one person in particular. He knows he’s in the right place for sure. So he continues on and a few folks wave as he approaches. Derrick, former officemate, spots Calum first and waves him closer. 

“Meet Calum--old officemate of mine,” Derrick tells the group surrounding him. First years, Calum assumes and gives them a tiny smile and wave to the group. 

“Yeah, because this jerk decided to apply for a full time instructor position. And then got upgraded,” Calum laughs. 

“Look, gotta pay the bills how I can,” Derrick returns and then goes around the semi circle introducing everyone. 

Calum looks at each one in return and then his gaze lands on yours. As a first year to the program and student teaching, you ran into Calum during the intense two week training. Well, you two didn’t really run into each other. Calum ran a few sessions during the training and you might have purposefully lingered behind on the free range Q&A that he was a part of with a few other experienced student teachers. He seemed to be calm and level headed about all the teaching and you were quite the opposite, so listening to him answer questions gave you a small amount of peace. 

The second reason you lingered until everyone else was gone and asked their questions is because you thought he was attractive. The baggy t-shirt but nice fitting jeans and the way he titled in when he was listening to someone. He seemed to really care and take his time to answer any questions--even when he had other things he needed to attend to as well. “Hey,” he says as his smile brightens around your name. 

“Hi Calum,” you return. “Slumming it with us first years.”

“I would never call it slumming, not in the slightest,” he laughs in return. The conversation steers away from that, talking about the summer and general shared interests. But every so often you and Calum lock eyes, gazes lingering for way longer than you’d like to admit. Mostly because you don’t want to be this into someone so early into the semester. And truth be told, the semester hadn’t even truly started. 

About ten minutes pass before professors start to approach, a couple of them holding boxes of pizza. And while you definitely weren’t sure how to juggle all the responsibilities of teaching, classes, paying rent on time, you were grateful for the lunch of pizza. It also meant that you’d be taking some home if enough people didn’t go in for seconds. And getting a free meal plus an easy dinner was always worth it. 

As the pizzas are lined up, you linger back, not wanting to be the first person to get food, but close enough to the first brave souls. “So, have you done any exploring around town?” Calum asks from behind you. 

You spin to half face him to talk to him. “Not a lot. By the time we get done with training I’m too tired to do anything else. But I need to get my bike looked at, so I probably should get downtown at the very least.”

“What’s up with your bike? You said it was your main mode of transportation.”

“Just double checking tire pressure--nothing major. One of them feels like it’s not as high as the other. But rather be safe than sorry since the semester starts.”

Calum nods and shuffles up as the line moves. “If you need a ride to the shop, I have my car.”

You’re not sure if Calum’s offering just to be nice or if it means more. So you default to telling him he doesn’t have to, but he insists. And even as you’re grabbing a slice of pizza and Calum’s right behind you, you try to tell him that he shouldn’t completely disturb his whole day just for you. 

“I cannot have you blowing a tire on the side of the road. Do you have your bike with you today? We could go after this.”

If there were any way to die right in this moment, you’re wishing for it. “I do,” you answer cautiously, walking towards the metal picnic tables. “But really, I can do by myself. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, c’mon, this town’s not necessarily the nicest to cyclists and if you got stranded I’d feel like an ass.” Calum settles across from you on the bench, slipping his backpack off his shoulder. You do the same, setting your backpack next you and pulling your water bottle from the side pocket. 

“I don’t know what your plans are. I don’t want to intrude,” you counter, unscrewing the top to your water bottle to take a sip. 

“My plans were to sit in my office and pretend like I was lesson planning.”

“Where’s your office again?”

Calum rattles off the name of the building, before taking his first bite of pizza. And you swear for a moment the universe is fucking with you. It has it out for you. “I’m in the same building,” you state. 

“I’m in room 138.”

Oh, how cruel is the universe. How fucking cruel could it be. “Same,” you state after finishing your bite of pizza. “Haven’t been inside to see it yet though.”

“Oh, it sounds like I’m your personal tour guide today.” And it’s not that he’s being adamant about it. Because you know if you were in the reverse positions, you’d do something similar. But a glint crosses his eyes, his smile is a slight curl of his lips and he’s looking up at you from underneath his lashes. 

Your stomach flutters, and suddenly pizza looks and feels like lead, but you take another bite to do something other than let panic settle. A quiet settles between the two of you as you eat. Though more people are turning up and settling in around you to make up for the silence. A few more minutes pass, even with you tossing away your plate and saying hi to some other people who are also teaching for the first time this year before you hear the professors calling for the group’s attention.

As the group quiets down, you return back to the spot where your bag is and Calum’s still there, laughing at something Derrick is saying. You catch his gaze and you really only think that you should look away. But you do. He’s too fucking handsome not to keep your gaze lingering for a moment longer. The humorous smile changes, becomes more subtle as the two of you continue to gaze at each other. 

You can feel your cheeks getting hot but slowly feel your own smile over taking your face before you cast your gaze down and then flick it back up to who’s speaking. It’s good information to get, as you listen to each professor in turn talk about the program more. You get a good sense of who each person is, and it’s not too much longer before each of the new and old cohort introduces themself. 

It’s a natural break as everyone starts to talk again with the business now out of the way. You mingle with some of the instructors but gravitate towards the snacks that are available. Just as you get a good grasp on one of the oreos, your name is called out. You spin, making sure to keep the Oreos in a tight hold. Calum waves you over to the group he’s in and you walk over. You know you shouldn’t. You know you’re playing with fire. But you do so anyway and he introduces you to some other people in the same year as him. They weren’t at the student teacher training. 

You’re thankful for the introduction but slowly the conversation drifts to the group joking about something that you seem to be missing and you know almost without thinking that Calum’s going to seize this opportunity. You turn to him first. “I like the vibe of this program,” you start. 

He smiles. “I’m glad. It’s all pretty tight knit.” You nod, agreeing with this point, but also not sure if you’re reading the air between you and him correctly either. “Do you wanna duck out now?” he asks quietly. “Get that bike fixed up for the first day of classes.”

“Ye-yeah, that’s cool.”

He nods over to where your belongings are with a smile. And the two of you gather your things. As you lead Calum over to where you locked up your bike you pause. “Wait,” you start, “do you even have a place to strap a bike down?”

“My friends and I bike the trails a lot during the year. My SUV can handle it, I promise,” he returns with a laugh. The two of you walk side by side down the parking lot. “Where do you call home?” he asks. 

You rattle off the answer and in return ask him the same. “Well home home is Australia. But I came to the states with some mates and we’ve sort of always called California a second home.”

“You beat me the longest distance from home,” you laugh. 

“Well, only on a technicality.”

“So like your mom, dad, and siblings--if you have any--are like clear across the world?”

“Mum and Dad are. Sister’s in London.”

“Is she studying too?”

“Singer--she’s over there doing that.”

You hum. “Is singing a family trait?”

Calum laughs and you watch some lights blink from a car and you spy the keys in his hand. “I wouldn’t call it a family trait. But yeah, we all sing. In our own ways. Originally made some moves for music. Career paths changed just a tiny bit.”

“So you and the friends you moved with were in a band?”

“Of sorts. Went well for a while. Then we just needed rest.”

“So your idea of rest is going to school and teaching?” You laugh. Calum opens the trunk first for your bags. And when he closes it, you finally spot the rack to set your bike on. 

“Like I said, career paths took a turn. Rest or new experience--I’ve yet to decide on the name yet.”

With the bike settled and secure, you walk around to the passenger side door. Calum’s quick to turn the air on in the car once he’s inside. His radio starts up immediately and he scrambles to turn it down. “Sorry, don’t wanna blast you out of the car,” he states. 

“No, no worries.”

“Any requests? You can plug your phone in too, if you want.”

“Oh God, I take over the aux and you’re going to get some anime theme song and I’d rather save myself the embarrassment.”

Calum’s chuckle is quick and clear of the click of the seatbelts. He switches over the radio and hands you the white cord. “Now you have to embarrass yourself.”

“That’s what I get for opening my big mouth.” Plugging the cord in, you shuffle for a decent opening song as the truck starts backwards out of the parking spot. 

“So what about you? How did the universe drop you here?”

“Pure determination and spite,” you laugh as the song starts over the speakers. “I finished my undergrad, worked for a couple years and then promptly said this is not what I want to do forever and started looking to go back to school.”

“Pure determination and spite,” Calum repeats. He keeps his attention heavily on the road as he’s driving out of the park and through the neighborhoods. But once he hits a stretch of main road he can glance over to you. And you’re staring out of the front windshield, head slightly tilted. “You look lost in thought?”

“Just admiring the view.”

And Calum hums, a sound of agreement, but the view he’s enjoying isn’t the sight of campus and the surrounding area. The two of you continue on, weaving around some traffic and soon you’re turning down a side street. One that reminds you almost of home. And maybe that’s just the universality of it all. Almost anything could be home if you wanted it to be, because there was always going to be a piece of a place that you could connect too. 

“The guys here are nice and really quick about anything that’s a simple fix,” Calum offers. “Also, your music isn’t that bad.”

Your jaw drops just a little and a small squawk of indignation falls from your lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, jumping out of the car. Calum’s already at the back, pulling your bike from the secure rack. 

“It means that having an anime theme song play would’ve made it ten times better.”

You huff, but follow behind him into the shop. The two of you greeted almost immediately and when the guy working on the floor spies the bike, he’s quick to walk over and see what the issue is. You explain that you’ve noticed a difference in tire pressure. In your move your gauge got misplaced and you hadn’t quite yet had time to get someone to look at it until now. 

“Yeah, we can check that for you. No problem. So any other plans for today?” he asks, making small talk. You talk briefly about the weather, though there’s not quite a lot to talk about it. Not too long later, the guy’s able to confirm that one of tires did have something puncturing it and letting out some air. But he’s quick to let you know that they can fix it in just a few minutes if the two of you have it. 

“I’d greatly appreciate it,” you start and then look at Calum, who just shrugs. “Yeah, can you fix it?”

“Sure can. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

You watch Calum browse, trying not to linger on the way his back moves underneath the t-shirt as he reaches up for something along the walls. And it’s like asking to get into trouble. Though there’s nothing wrong with instructors dating. You just had a plan, that's all.The first semester you’d get settled, figure out what this whole student teaching life was all about. And the more you watched Calum, the more you were sure that plan was going to fall apart. 

“Here she is, all fixed up.” You look up from your spot, in the store, having migrated to the opposite end of the door and walk over to the man with your bike. “Just a little puncture. Nothing too bad.” He rattles off the costs and it’s more than you anticipated, but not so much more that you have complaints.

Calum’s quick to take over the bike and walk it back outside, smiling as you hold the door open for him. “Thanks.”

“No, thanks to you. For chauffeuring me around.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he returns, getting the bike back onto the rack. “Did you want to explore some nearby shops?”

“Oh, hmm. Maybe later. I haven’t an ounce of lesson plans just yet. So I think I should maybe get my week 2 planned.”

“Well it sounds like you have something of week one planned,” Calum counters. 

“We were forced. Thanks to orientation.”

He laughs. “Yeah, they wanted you to have that down at least.”

In the brief glance around, as you try to tell yourself, you shouldn’t explore, you spy a little coffee shop. It looks intriguing. And you point out the sign. “Have you ever tried them?”

“Yeah--it’s a really good shop.”

You take a small step towards the building, careful though because you’re still in the parking lot and about to head into the street. “Can I tack on just a tiny bit of exploring and grab a cup?”

“Of course.”

“Recommend anything?”

Calum holds the door open as he speaks. “Chai Latte, but you can’t tell anyone that it was me that recommended it.”

“Your secret it safe with me.”

In line, you try not to think about how close Calum is, as he stands behind you. But you can feel him, or maybe you want to feel it, you’re aware of him that it’s like all you’d have to do is fake a clumsy step back to be resting into his chest. You imagine it to be firm, but somehow cozy. And maybe that’s just the worn t-shirt he’s adorned in and the beanie on his head. But his presence feels soft to you. 

Your daydream doesn’t last long as the line shuffles forward and you take the step forward rather than the step backward. The coffee shop is quaint, the wide windows letting in plenty of sunlight. But the tables are dark brown and look worn from your place in line. It feels lived in and you enjoy that even though the outside was painted a hunter green, the inside is a pretty beige accented by the chocolate wood of the tables. 

“It’s like a dream,” you state in a whisper, taking in the lights in the ceiling and the scattered bodies of students with backpacks at their feet and others whom you assume live in town and are most likely trying to enjoy the last bits of quiet before the rest of the students descend onto the campus and town. 

In all your sight exploration, your order is called up and Calum has to get it for you. He smiles though, watching the wonder that fills your eyes. “The offer’s still on the table,” he states, handing over the correct cup t you. “We can explore.”

“Can we raincheck? What does next weekend look like for you?”

He still hadn’t responded to Ashton about the hike. So he doesn’t really have plans. “Free as a bird.”

“Would it be okay? To wait till then?”

“Of course,” he exhales. “I’m not the one still learning with training wheels of teaching. I can do this in my sleep.”

“Oh, so big and tough,” you joke, but head back to the front door. The two of you break back out into the bright sun and it’s warm on your skin. “Just give me a semester. I’ll be able to knock you down a peg.”

And Calum doesn’t doubt that for a second. Not with the way you talked about getting into the program. Inside the truck, you’re handed the aux yet again and this time don’t think twice about plugging it in. “To our office?” he asks. 

“You’re not even going to be doing anything for real.”

“I like the sense of productivity.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you laugh. The drive back to the campus isn’t as long as you thought it would be. But somehow it comes all too quickly. You’re still not sure what’s happening between you and Calum. It’s easy, natural between the two of you. But your plan--you know it’s all going down the drain. All his jokes make you laugh, and you know one or two shouldn’t. And when you do laugh, Calum turns sheepish. He goes quiet, a tiny smile quivering at his lips. 

Calum parks in the employee parking lot in front of the building with your office. Both of you climb out at the same time. And with backpacks, coffee, keys and phones all in place you two trek up to the door. “I think it’s only three of us in the office this year,” Calum talks, fishing out the right key on the hook. 

“Only three?”

“This used to be an old dorm building. So they can usually stick four of us into the room. But the email we got about office assignments only had three names. There was a fourth, but I don’t know what happened to them. They were in a different English program than us. And I don’t know if they graduated or not.”

“Ah,” you return, stepping through the door behind him. And it doesn’t remind you too much of a dorm, not in the always at least. But when Calum unlocks the door, you can see where it definitely once was an older dorm building thanks to the sink in the corner. “You weren’t kidding, huh?’

“About it being an old dorm? Not in the slightest.” He drops his backpack into the desk on the left side of the room but closest to the window. A couple pictures decorate the desktop. The desk next to him as a blanket and the whiteboard above it, has something written on it. So you assume it’s the third person. The desk on the right, closest to the door has nothing on it. The one closest to the window, across from Calum is also empty. 

You walk into the room some more and Calum pulls out his laptop from his bag and then steps around you. “As a heads up, the door stays locked. So you’ll need your key if you go out and close the door. I got locked out once or maybe twice. And it’s definitely not fun.”

You nod. “Thanks for the heads up.”

He smiles and then slips out of the door and you study the empty desk. It’s stupid, trivial to take the one across from Calum, but you drop your backpack into the office chair. The next time you come, you’ll bring desk decorations. To claim which one is yours. Because right now in the depths of your backpack you don’t have much. Well you do have a book that you don’t really need to keep up with too much. Maybe you can leave that. 

Exhaling, you get mostly settled and just before you can get your laptop out of the sleeve the door opens to Calum walking through again. The beanie’s now in his hands as he strides across the room and you can’t help but stare at the curls falling from his head. You want to curse him for looking so good. But you force yourself to go back to your screen. 

Calum settles back into his chair and watches you, sitting up straighter than he’s ever seen a person sit. And he wishes he wasn’t so chicken shit about it. You fucking asked him to hang out next weekend. But still, it’s like toying the line. Trying to make sure he’s reading the cues right. Maybe not right now, maybe next weekend he can get a better read, make a move. He turns back to his own laptop and finds the syllabus he made from the last semester. He can still use most of it. Though in the spring they had a break and in the fall, now they don’t. So he can delete that week as no class and actually have time for the group project in class that the department requires for them to teach. 

A couple hours go by, silence between the two of you, but the clacking of keys makes a chorus around the room. Calum pauses every so often to look over his shoulder. Sometimes you’re deep into work, pushed up into the seat. And once or twice, he found you slouched, staring out at the window next to both of you. 

Another hour passes and shuffling ensues behind Calum. He looks over and finds you packing up. “Headed home?”

You nod. “Managed to get the first unit mostly planned. We’ll see how it goes.”

He smiles. “I’m sure it’ll go well.” He goes to turn around and then remembers your bike is still attached to the back of his car. “Oh, let me go with you to get your bike,” he says ,shooting up from his chair. It rolls backwards for a split second but then makes a sudden stop. 

“Oof,” you let out, rubbing at your stomach. 

“Oh my god,” he rushes out, stepping in closer. “I’m so sorry. Had no clue you were that close. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you laugh and then look up. And Calum’s eyes are a deeper brown that you initially thought. Now that he's closer to you. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you exhale in a breath. 

“You sure? I think the Campus Health Services is open. Or you know, urgent care?”

“I don’t think you caused internal bleeding. Just caught me off guard.”

He finally brings his gaze up from where you’ve stopped holding your stomach to your eyes. And he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t let his gaze drop below your eyes, because truth be told he already stared too much at your lips during the entirety of orientation. And he already knows just how plump they are. 

It’s silent--almost uncomfortably so. “Can I--I should get your bike,” Calum says, saving himself from sure embarrassment. 

He steps around you and you stretch out, capturing his wrist in your hand. “No, what were you going to ask?” you ask. The question leaves you without much thought and you know you shouldn’t ask. But you just can’t help it. Because you almost stretched up to kiss him. 

“It’s nothing,” he returns. But he doesn’t pull his wrist away. 

“Is it really nothing?”

Calum feels you step in closer. He inhales and lets it slowly. He shouldn’t. He absolutely should not let the question cross his lips. But he turn, and sees you illuminated by the sun from the windows and god, how can he deny an angel standing in front of him. “I was going to ask if I could ask you a question.” And it’s not really what he was going to ask. But it buys him some time. 

“You can ask me.”

“Do you--is this--,” he exhales, for a moment hating that the words are getting caught in his throat. “I don’t know if you’re feeling the same thing I am. But I-I’ve been interested in you, like from the second I saw you at the orientation. And I really, really don’t want to make a fool of myself. But I was hoping, are you interested? In me?”

There it goes--the plan--down the drain in just a few sentences. “If you’re asking if I thought you were attractive, yes. And if you’re asking if I care to see where this goes, the answer is also yes. But it really wasn’t supposed to go down like this.”

The elation covers his face and makes his cheeks push up as he smiles--so much so that the skin around his eyes crinkles. “I’ll gladly interrupt all your plans.”

You scoff at the sentiment, but feel your body heating up. Calum steps in even closer to you. His fingers find yours and thread them together. “So the real question I had was if I could kiss you? But I wasn’t sure if that was too forward.”

“Too forward a minute ago. But not too forward for right now,” you state, already moving in to kiss him. It’s short, longer than a peck, but not quite long enough. Because as you pull away, Calum’s other hand is cupping the back of your head and keeping you closer. His hold is firm but his lips are soft and you melt, knees buckling just for a moment. Thankfully, you manage to recover quickly. It doesn’t stop Calum from chuckling. 

“Are you telling me that I have that kind of effect on you?”

“Shut the fuck up, and kiss me again,” you state breathlessly. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. His lips capture yours again, happy to finally get a small taste of you. And you’re acutely aware that it must look ridiculous--you with your backpack full to the nines pressed up against Calum’s chest, chasing down his lips because his touch is mixing in with the scent of his cologne and all you know for sure is that it’s an intoxicating mixture that you want to be trapped in forever. 

You pull away, needing just a moment to catch your breath and Calum rests his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to leave me now?” he teases. 

“I--I’ll be honest. The reason why I was leaving was because I knew this was going to happen.”

“Oh? You knew?”

You laugh, cupping his jaw. “Calum, I know one thing for sure. You’re a dangerous man to be around.”

“Oh you’ve just met me. I should be offended.”

“Should be?” you question. 

“You’re--I don’t know what. But I knew that I wanted to know you. So whatever words that exist for that--that’s what you are.”

“I’m flattered,” you state softly. 

“If you give me 5, I can pack up my stuff and drop you off back at home. Now I’d be an asshole not to drop you off.”

You watch him, pulling back from the closeness. “I can make it home now that my bike’s fixed. Thanks to your insistence.”

“Well, let me insist one more time that I make sure you get home safely.” 

“Fine,” you resign. And he’s quick to pack up. Out in the hallway, he takes your hand, threading your fingers again. And it’s natural, easy between the two of you. You bump shoulders, laughing as you step out in the daylight. 

Inside his car, you slip back into the passenger seat. But when Calum settles into the driver seat and gets buckled in, he rests one hand on your thigh. Not too high up, nothing too suggestive, but not directly on your knee. You try not to let it fluster you, the ease at which he establishes touch, but your heart races just a little. 

You curl your fingers around his palm--it’s something to do with your hands, but also allows you a bit of control. You direct him easily back to your apartment. It’s nearly a straight shot, minus the one left turn needed and when he pulls up into a parking space in front of your building, he squeezes at your fingers just a little. 

You face him with a smile. “Thanks, for everything.”

“Yeah of course,” he returns. “So, next weekend? More exploring?”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll text you about the date and time for sure. Unless we meet again in the office.”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you laugh gently stretching across the console. “I have a suspicion we shall meet again in the office.”

“Lovely,” he breathes and you meet his lips, capturing them gently before pulling away and grabbing all your things. Your bike is easy to get down and then you lock it back up on the rack outside, even though Calum does help. He leans up against the door and you spy him watching. 

“Enjoying the show?” you tease shaking your butt at him at the outside door of the building.  

His laughter rings out. “Making sure you get inside safely, actually. But a show is always welcomed.”

[anime-alyssa]

after the hurt - childe x reader

warnings: smut, emotional hurt, nothing really major. 

also on a03 - buy me a kofi?

To think you had grown to feel something for him, just for him to betray you like that. When he came to find you afterward, you were not going to show him the mercy he wanted.

You were absolutely exhausted - the day’s events taking a toll on your body as you laid in the bed that you had gotten in Liyue. Ningguang had given you and Paimon your own rooms in a luxury hotel as thanks so you both could relax and recover after the disaster that was the night. Physically you were exhausted but you were also mentally exhausted as well - the flashes of the betrayal of Childe - if that was even his actual name, you didn’t know at this point - coming through your mind. 

You couldn’t believe that you had trusted him - let yourself fall for him over the past couple of months in Liyue. Paimon wasn’t too sure about him from the beginning, but you were determined to see for yourself if he really was all that bad. Sure, he was a Fatui agent - but he didn’t seem like he was trying to hurt you or anything. 

No, not hurt - just use. Used you for information for his own personal gain, used you for pleasure. Had it meant nothing to him at all? Probably not, you thought as you changed into some sleep clothes that were provided for you. Whatever, he was probably long on his way from Liyue with Signora in tow after their conversation with Zhongli. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you got under the covers and laid down, trying to get your brain to shut off. To think that only two days before you were laying in his bed with him, letting him take the stress away of getting sucked into the Rite of Parting ceremony. 

“Don’t worry about it - I’ll take care of you tonight.” His words echoed in your memory as he had followed up on his promise, only for you to face him 24 hours later. You had won, taking him down successfully, but Paimon couldn’t quite understand why you were so emotional about it despite winning. Neither could you, but it was only after seeing him when the whole thing was over, the small lovebites fading away on his neck and the way he looked at yours to see the same, that you realized it: you had fallen in love with Childe. 

It was ridiculous - you didn’t have time for that. The only thing you needed to focus on was going to see all of The Seven to find your brother and somehow keeping yourself and Paimon alive to see it through. But Childe came in and swept you off your feet in a way that you hadn’t quite expected him to, his smooth-talking and touches in all the right places making you tremble. 

You almost wished you could have said more to him earlier, but you were still hurt. He had looked at you like he had wanted you to say something to him, but Zhongli did all the talking as you had a lot of questions for the archon. You think he almost did it on purpose, having picked up on your mood due to something he had said to you before you departed from him. 

“I’ve found that in my many years of living, sometimes forgiving is the best way to move forward. There is no need to dwell on the past when there are things to work for.” the retired Geo Archon had told you. Paimon then lectured you about knowing that Childe was trouble, to which you promptly shut the door in her face, and now here you were. 

There was a chill in the room that you don’t remember being there previously. Did you leave the window open? You could have sworn that you had shut it - actually, you know that you hadn’t even opened it to begin with. Cursing yourself for putting out the light, you had no choice but to sit back up to see what the deal was - when you were promptly shoved back down, a hand over your mouth as you were thrust backward. 

“Don’t scream.” Childe’s voice sent shivers up your spine as he climbed on top of your body, his nose practically touching yours. His eyes were wide as he removed his hand slowly from your mouth.

“What the hell - why are you here? Why did you break into my room?” you asked him as he got off you, sitting on the edge of the bed. You sat up to meet him, trying to build your resolve now. He wasn’t going to get his way - absolutely not.

“I wanted to see you before I left, and I knew you weren’t going to let me in otherwise.” he said. You let out a scoff as he tried to reach out to you, shock going across his features when you pushed his hand away. 

“Well you’ve seen me. Now go.” you told him. He let out a sigh, a hand going to the back of his neck. 

“So you’re still mad.” He replied. 

“Still mad? You - you used me! Paimon was right - I never should have even trusted you in the first place.” you ranted and raved, letting your anger spill out. He was silent as you talked, unmoving next to you. “Did it mean anything at all to you? Was that all just a lie too?” you asked him. 

“I did what I had to do for the Fatui - but listen - none of us was a lie, it’s still not one.” Chile said, turning to face you more and eyes growing wide. He looked like he was emotional - seriously? You almost had to quite literally shake the thoughts out of your head, reminding you that he literally used you for Fatui gain - for Signora’s sake, a person who hurt your friend. 

“You say that like there’s anything left.” you muttered. Was there something left? You actually hated to admit it, but you did have something still for him - you were in love with him still, despite it all. By the looks of it, he still felt something for you too. Was everything romantic between the two of you genuine - and how could you even trust him anymore? Your head was spinning so fast with thoughts that you didn’t even notice him come closer to you until his fingertips were on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I know there’s something left on my side. But if you say there isn’t anything left on your side, I’ll leave, and you won’t see me again,” he said to you. That had your mind reeling even more - was he seriously saying that he still felt things for you? So he was telling the truth in that regard - or was he - “I’ll respect it, even if I don’t think you’re telling me the truth. I know you’ll tell me what you think I deserve to be told, for your sake.” he said sadly, running his thumb over your cheekbone while you stared at him in awe. 

Okay, what the fuck, Childe? As if you weren’t having a hard enough time trying to not immediately give into him because of your love for him, now he comes out with that Romeo and Juliet type speech? But he also just confessed that he had feelings for you still - it came from him first. You hadn’t known Childe to be emotionally vulnerable since you’ve known him, so maybe he was being honest? 

Your mind made up its mind before you could fully even process your actions. You grabbed Childe by his shoulders and threw him backward onto the bed, slightly propped up as you straddled his waist. He looked shocked but didn’t say anything - or get the chance to - as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his - harder than you probably should have in the moment. He didn’t argue, letting out a grunt as his hands found their way to your hips, letting your mouths move against each other before you pulled away from him. 

“I - I love you, Childe.” you admitted to him quietly. Childe looked up at you wide-eyed with a smile, about to speak before you cut him off. “But what you did… It can’t be forgotten so easily.”  you said back to him. 

“Let me make you forget it for the night.” he said to you. Ah, there he was - the Childe you knew who almost always wanted to get laid. You knew that would work and that he was likely leaving in the next day - so you’d be stupid to not take him up on the offer. Plus your position was incredibly suggestive right now - wait a minute -

You tested the waters for a minute, bringing your lips back down to his and letting your hips grind down against his. Childe shamelessly let out a groan, his hands on your hips gripping you tighter as you wound him up the way that you knew best. You continued your movements until you felt him rock hard beneath you, body stiff and panting once you pulled away from his lips. 

“You… you are - ” he choked out, not able to form any sort of thoughts at the current moment. Childe knew that you were assertive in your own way, but this was something he hadn’t seen out of you before. Was this your revenge? Hell, he’d betray you ten times over if this is what happened after - 

“Quiet, Childe. I’m in charge tonight.” you said to him, slipping your hands under his jacket and snapping the button off. It opened to expose his chest, letting your fingertips move over the lines of his abs gently as he took a shaky breath in. “You will do as I say, it’s the least you can do. Right?” you asked, eyes flickering to meet his. 

“Ye - yes.” he choked out as you ground into his hips again. He was holding you so tightly you swore there would be bruises where his fingers were digging into you. You nudged yourself off him and next to him on the bed.

“Take off your clothes.” you told him. Childe quickly got up, nearly stumbling over himself, and undressed. He started with the jacket and shirt that you had already undone and then moved to his pants, bringing those down quickly, minding his Vision that he kept on the belt. His boxers were saved for last as he couldn’t have ripped them off fast enough, his cock springing free. 

Beads of precum decorated his head as you inched yourself closer to him, one of your hands wrapping around the base of his shaft. Childe let out a quiet gasp that turned into a throaty moan as you ever so slightly pumped him. HIs eyes rolled into the back of his head and his hands balled into fists at his sides, at his limit for teasing already. 

“Do you want me to suck your cock? Do you deserve it?” you asked him, mouth grazing over his head and hand still gently pumping and squeezing his shaft. Childe let out a moan above you that you swore all of Tevyat could hear. 

“Archons, yes baby. Please.” he begged above you. How quickly Childe, one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, succumbed to you was music to your ears and all the more teasing you were going to do was gone as your lips encased his head, tongue gliding over his tip slowly. “Oh fuck yes.” Childe moaned as your head bobbed on his length, tongue licking up the underside of his cock as you continued to suck and pump him. 

His moans were music to your ears, sending vibrations throughout your own body that had slick starting to form between your own legs. You started to suck faster, focusing on his tip, letting your tongue swirl over the beads of precum that seeped out as Childe let out a guttural moan, panting for breath. His cock hardened in your mouth slowly, signaling his near release. You released him with a pop, backing up and licking your own lips. 

“What - baby - please - ” he began to fight, body aching at his orgam being taken away from him. You stood up and began to undress, starting with your top. Childe’s eyes went wide as you visibly saw his cock twitch. 

“Lay back down on the bed.” you told him, throwing the top to the side and sliding down your shorts. Childe did as you said, laying back on the bed where you had been previously. You went to go straddle his hips again, but had another idea first. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to say no, so you slowly crawled your way up his chest until your core was lined up with his mouth. “Let me ride your face, Childe.” you said as his hands found their home back on your hips.

“Oh baby, it would be my honor.” he snarkily said back, not able to speak for much longer as you lowered your core to him. He dragged your center closer to him as his mouth devoured your heat, a moan now leaving your lips as shocks of pleasure started to shoot through your body. 

“O - oh - fuck Childe, right there…” you moaned out as his lips sucked on your clit, hips grinding down into his face. His tongue swirled over your bud as he sucked, jolts of pleasure consuming you as you cried out his name. His hands on your hips helped you fuck yourself against his mouth, quickening your pace as you felt your core beginning to tighten and heat up. One of his hands left your hip as it snaked closer to your clit, Childe moving his mouth away from your bud. 

“Chi - oh fuck!” you all but screamed as his tongue was promptly shoved up inside of your cunt, fingers dancing over your bud nearly making you come on him right then and there. Your hips ground deeper into his mouth, thanks to his guidance as you were now way too hazy to even try yourself, making his tongue enter you deeper as he sucked on your cunt for all it was worth. “Ah - ah - gonna - Childe - ah - coming!” you moaned, feeling everything inside you finally snap as your cunt spasmed around his tongue, orgasm hitting you like a mountain as you fucked yourself on his tongue. 

You panted for breath on his face, riding out your high as Childe continued to run his tongue through your folds, cleaning up your orgasm from between them. You whimpered above him as he kept going and slowly you felt the heat start to build in you again. Without a second thought, you lowered yourself from his mouth and brought your aching center over his cock. 

“Do you need me yet?” he asked. The answer was yes, but you weren’t letting him know that flat out. 

“Shut the fuck up and let me ride you.” you said to him. With that, you sunk yourself down on his cock, bottoming out in one motion. The both of you let out filthy moans that you were sure the rest of the hotel could hear. You gave yourself time to adjust as his cock twitched inside of you, remnants of Childe’s earlier deprived orgasm coming back to life. “Fuck…” you whined. 

“Baby, please - move - I’m trying here - ” he begged. He really was trying to let you take the ropes, you could see that. The amount of restraint he had tonight was impeccable and something you had never seen him have (he literally fucked you against a Statue of the Seven one night because he was impatient). With a small groan, you started to rock your hips against his, his cock completely filling you at every thrust. “Shit, you feel so god damn good…” Childe breathed. 

“Childe, touch me - I need you to touch me - ” you said to him as your thrusts quickened, overcome by the need to reach another high again so soon. Childe’s cock was always so thick and snug inside of you that every movement was hitting deep inside your needy cunt, curving to hit places that you didn’t even know were inside of you. You could feel his cock grow harder and thicker inside of you at the request, his fingers going over your still sensitive bud and beginning to roll it between them. “Fuck!” you moaned, placing your hands on his chest and fucking yourself on his cock. 

The moans of the both of you echoed off the walls, Childe panting below you as the sounds of you slamming your hips down against him were prominent. You were a shaking, sweaty mess above him as his other hand left your hip and went to one of your breasts, taking your nipple in his fingers and pulling. You felt yourself clench around his thickness, a cry leaving your lips as he thrust up into you. 

“I can’t - fuck I can’t do it!” Childe growled. You were too busy whining to notice, Childe sitting up with you in his lap in one fluid motion and beginning to piston himself up into you. His hands both moved to grip your cheeks, lips going to your neck to start sucking marks into your skin. You let out a scream as he fucked up into you, cock hitting all the way to your cervix and filling you completely with every powerful thrust. “Fuck you’re so tight - so fucking tight - beautiful - love you so much baby - so fucking much.” he moaned into your skin. 

“Ch - Childe - ” you cried out his name as you felt yourself about to have your second orgasm, body beginning to tremble first around him as your thrusts matched his to get you there. “Touch - touch me - so close - need to come - ” you begged him now, a hand in a fist in his hair as you yanked, making him moan. He quickly listened as his thumb harshly circled your clit once more - sending you over. “Fuck - Childe!” you screamed his name, feeling yourself come undone around him once more, white-hot ecstasy taking over your body. He let out a moan as he struggled to fuck you through your high, the feeling of your cunt spasming around his rock hard cock enough to make him come. 

“Oh fuck - oh fuck baby, I’m cumming - cumming inside - oh fuck!” he cursed, hips stuttering against your pulsing core as he emptied his cock inside of you with a moan of your name. You were panting for breath on top of him as you felt him twitching inside of you, spilling himself deep into your body. His lips trailed up your neck gently, peppering soft kisses while you both came down from your highs. You were both silent for a few moments, Childe laying you both back on the bed, bringing the blankets up over your bodies, until he spoke up again. “I meant it, you know. I love you.” he finally broke the silence, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I know you did. It just… it hurts still. I trusted you, loved you, and you hurt me.” you said to him, sitting up slightly straighter to look him in the eyes. He didn’t say anything, bringing his lips to yours and rolling you under him as he gently kissed you once more. 

“I swear, I’ll never do it again, and I’ll do anything to prove it to you.” he said, running his thumb along your cheekbone gently. You relaxed into his touch as Childe placed a kiss on your forehead, coming down back next to you on the bed and taking you into his arms. He was gone when you woke up the next morning, as you expected, but left a note saying he’d be back before he left - your heart flipping inside of you and a groan coming from your travelling companion. 

She’d just have to deal.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Traitor.”

Going to be working on this one for a while. Hope you guys enjoy the update :)

He did his best to stay calm even as he was led into another room and introduced to their drake boss. He tried to keep his expression somewhere between an easy smile and a thoughtful nod, let them think he was really considering their offer, really considering  their offer to go out and murder himself.

It was all just so unbelievable.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that the chairwoman would want  him killed. He thought the two of them were long time allies. He thought she had been the one, along with Admiral Kelly, to support his rise to the rank of captain when all of this began. What had happened between now and then to necessitate her desire to kill him.

He had to admit that he was both hurt and concerned for himself.

His brother Thomas was out there posing as him while the universe's most powerful politician plotted to end his life. She had the strength of the entire GA Armada behind her. He doubted all the ships would attack the omen if she asked, but at least some of them would, and without him there to maneuver the ship…. He worried that they wouldn’t last through a fight.

His stomach churned as the two pirate  women spoke among each other trying to make him believe a lie. His stomach tied itself into another knot. He was surrounded by an entire galaxy of people who wanted to kill him, and for what?

Because the human race was growing too powerful politically? And somehow he had something to do with it.

Despite suddenly being thrown into politics at a young age, he knew that he didn’t understand them. He was a pilot and a soldier first and foremost, and he found that being a politician required lying to people and in ways that he just wasn’t capable of. He knew he was in a vulnerable position.

The two women finished their little speeches, satisfied that they had followed him, and he nodded to them as he was led back out into the hall. Cannon walked behind him the entire time spear held at the ready, ready to cut down anyone who tried anything. He had no doubt that they would be able to handle Beatrice and Geea. The Drev was no great shakes as a warrior and Beatrice behaved more like a  crack addict with a knife than she did a fighter. Between him and Cannon they could take the two of them out.

In fact, Adam could probably take both of them at once if he had to, though he didn’t relish the idea.

He had a feeling that the two of them were being used just as anyone else might be. They weren’t working for themselves but being manipulated by a system that didn’t want to get in trouble itself.

The two of them were just patsies.

They led him out of the room and back into the main thoroughfare of the pirate waystation. Where once he had been excited to view all of the cool and illegal technology, he now felt sick to his stomach. Neon lights flashed above him under colorful ad campaigns for new jetpacks and all he could think of was the betrayal.

He needed to talk to someone. Immediately.

“I must return to my ship to make preparations.”

“We will come with you.”

He shook his head, “No, I need you to make sure that the rest of my men are getting along in the equipment they find. If they don’t get what we need then the mission is a bust, so you better make sure things go smoothly.

He didn’t wait for them to respond, but turned on his heel and made his way back towards the ship, his boots clattering on the metal flooring.

Beatrice said something rude behind him, but he ignored her for the most part.

He didn’t care about her at this point, she was simply a pawn in a larger game.

And while they were pawns….. Well that would have to make him a King, which honestly wasn’t much better than a pawn.

He was a target for an assassination, and the entire board felt like it was moving around them, and the opposing queen had him in her sights.

He was going to have to change that.

He stepped into the tube leading him into his “fake” pirate ship.

It had been a lot of fun pretending to be a pirate over the past few months or so, allowing words of his deeds to spread in just the right circles, and crafting elaborate stories of daring encounters with UNSC cargo ships who were willing to help him with his plan. For the most part it had all gone off without a hitch, and he had been able to live out every child’s fantasy of becoming a pirate.

But now, now the jig was up and the fun was over. He was going to have to figure out something in the next few hours.

He stepped onto the ship and headed towards his rooms, shutting the door behind himself before setting up a secure transmission to the Omen. The line that he sent the transmission out on was disguised as some sort of manifest request to an orbiting ship above. No one would find anything interesting about it, though the signal would be intercepted by the Omen and opened on another secure channel, which generally tended to be used to monitor cosmic feedback.

He waited there for a moment as the device rang a few times, and then the screen sputtered to life.

The picture wasn’t the greatest quality, but they had made sure to do that over the past few days to hide any of the small quirks about Thomas that would have made him easy to identify as an imposter.

“Cargo?”

The word was a pre made code word asking if it was safe to speak out of character.

Thomas would respond with either, “Goods, or weapons.” The first meaning go and the second meaning stop.

“Goods.”

The image before him cleared up, and his brother's face peered back at him from the camera. He had to admit, they had done a good job in making him look Like Adam. He had tousled blond hair and eyepatch and likely makeup to adjust the structure of his face. All in all, it was pretty impressive, but being Adam and Thomas being his brother he could definitely tell. Thomas was shorter and a bit thinner than he was, though he had filled out since joining the marines, and his hair was a shade or two off from Adam’s.

“You good?” Thomas asked, flipping up the eye patch to show his real eye.

Adam sighed, and rested his elbows on the table before him, “There has been a….. A massive compilation, and I’m not sure what to do.”

Lord Avex still sat on his shoulder, and had been surprisingly quiet since the revelation about the chairwoman. 

“Are Sunny Krill and the others there, I need to talk to them.”

Thomas nodded and shuffled on the other side of the camera for a minute before returning.

“How about physically. Haven't had the shit kicked out of you, have you?”

Adam shook his head, “No, no I’m alright, Just mentally reeling at this point.”

He rubbed his temples trying to stave off the headache he could feel coming on.

There was a soft thud and hiss, and the door behind Thomas opened.

Sunny stepped into the room and hurried over to the monitor resting her hand on the back of the chair Thomas sat in, “Adam, are you alright!” The worry in her voice was palpable. She had wanted to come along on the mission with him, but he had reasoned that she was  too recognizable. Even if they had changed her colors it would have been far too easy to  identify her. She hadn’t like that, but had still agreed to stay behind.

“I’m alright, physically anyway, and so are the others.”

“You’ve figured out who their leader is.”

Adam went quiet, and by the looks he was receiving, he knew that they could sense the tension in his face, “Wait till the others get here.”

Just when he said it, the door hissed open again and Simon, Dr. Katie and Krill walked into hte room.

Dr Krill inflated his helium sack and floated into the air, looking him over with a critical eye for a long moment, “You don’t seem injured, so that is a good sign.”

Adam sighed and shook his head, “I wish that were the case.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean I would rather be beaten up than dealing with the real problem at this point.” He rested his head against his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Look, this is going to sound absolutely insane, so I will just go ahead and send you the recording.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the recording device he had taken with him dropping it into the little well on the communications array. There was a soft whirr and it slowly levitated upward and began to spin. The video was played back for the others to see, and they watched in silence ad growing horror as the Chairwoman of the GA plotted his death.

When the recording cut off, the group of them stared at him with wide eyes.

Sunny shook her head, “This makes no sense.”

“Why would she…..”

Adam shook his head, “I don’t know…. I thought we were on good terms, but it seems as if that is no longer the case. THe GA is against us, or at least the head of the GA is. I don’t know who is loyal to us, and I certainly don’t know who to trust.”

It was then that lord Avex piped up hopping down from Adam’s shoulder, “The Celzex will always be on your side, Admiral. That is why I came on this mission, that is why your ship is the only one equipped with our weaponry.” he stamped one of his feet, “We will wipe her and her puny planet off the map.”

Adam raised a hand, “Woah…. woah , I don’t know about that. We have to do this carefully. I doubt she is acting with the entire interest of her species in mind, but more likely a small group of people. If we are going to deal with her we will want to confront her quietly where no one else is going to get hurt.

Lord Avex didn’t seem particularly pleased about that turn of events, but he kept quiet and allowed Adam to continue.

“We need to expose her publicly is what we need.”

Sunny shook her head, “And how do you plan to do that. There is already the problem of you having to assassinate yourself, which really isn’t going to do us well at this moment in time.”

He shook his head, “IT will be easy to take care of the pirates, they aren't all that smart and taking them out won’t be difficult. Just let them board the ship and then we can deal with them from there. After that is what I am worried about. We need her to show her hand, and we need to gather plenty of evidence. What I have right now is good, but if we can find something better, then that will ease my mind.”

He stood and paced back and forth slightly across the room, “We need…. We need to open me up to them. We need to make it look like I am vulnerable, we need to give them a chance to carry everything out, make it look like I am an easy target. Let thor guard down, and then when they come for me, we close around them like a bear trap and they will be none the weiser.” He tapped his fingers against the table, “You can’t help but leave some kind of digital trail in a time like this, it is completely impossible, if we have one end of her plot in a public setting, than we can unravel it right before her eyes and there will be nothing she can do about it.” 

Krill, who had been mostly quiet for this time shook his head, “It seems strange that she would involve herself so closely. Using a proxy to do all the work for her would at least give her plausible deniability, why would she do it herself ?”

It was Thomas’s turn to pipe in, “Seems easy enough. She’s the only one she can trust. If what you say is true than I doubt she is going along with the interests of her own people. If she involves someone else than it is going to get messy for her especially if she doesn’t know where their loyalties really lie. She would have to make the decision to deal with it herself and ricks being caught, or risk being outed by the people that she trusted, and seeing that most of the Rundi are politicians at heart, it wouldn’t surprise me that she wouldn’t trust anyone ther than herself.” he waved a hand in the air, “They are grabbing for power just like she is, and they might see this as an opportunity to undermine her and set themselves up to become the new chancellor.”

He nodded slowly, that did make some measure of sense.

But how to pull hair out of hiding.

One thing at a time he supposed.

Outside he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the hall, and he turned to look at them making a quick hand signal, and the feed was cut off. He leaned back in his chair just as there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” He ordered, and the door opened up to reveal cannon trailed by Beatrice and Geea.

He growled internally

They continued to get in his way and were becoming  a real annoyance for his plan.

He was gong to have to deal with them soon.

“Ah, ladies, you’re back. Were we able to find all of our supplies.

Geea stepped forward, “I believe we have, now you better get to work quickly, my employer grows impatient with your stalling”

I bet she does, he thought standing and smiling to conceal the rage that was festering inside him. He walked over and patted the Drev on the arm, “Don’t worry, by this time tomorrow you will be all sorted out, and all of us can go happily on our merry way.”

He slipped past her and walked into the hall chin down eyes narrowed,  hands balled into fists slightly at his sides.

By this time tomorrow they could begin dealing with the traitors, whoever they may be.

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Omega's Sixteenth

99 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!

Masterlist

Characters: The Bad Batch + Omega, Rex, Hera

Prompt/Inspo: #2 from my list: Cross teaches an older Omega how to use a rifle.

TW: blaster shots (to the armour, everyone's fine), it's just a lot of banter and family shenanigans

Word count: 1857

QUICK NOTE: just a bunch of fluff. This'll be a two or three part deal, so Cross actually teaching Omega how to use his rifle will come.

NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE CLONES

--

“Hunter, where we going?” Omega shouted ahead of the running group. Her hands were tightly gripped around the gold energy bow with a purple bolt already in place.

“Keep going!” He yelled, farther back down the hallway with the rest of the Batch.

Omega didn’t think her sixtieth birthday would be spent raiding an Imperial base for information, but there she was, dodging blaster bolts from circular corridors and laying down cover fire for the Batch who were looking for a way out as they ran aimlessly around the sky compound.

The skull embroidered bandana around her forehead kept her brown hair from her face as the customized armour weighed her down. She backed against a wall, peering down a corridor and quickly sprung back from the sizzling bolts whisking by.

Omega jumped from her spot and rolled away from the laying shots, pulling back the bowstring rapidly to take down the KX-series security droid. She was still on her knees with her bow outstretched as her team rounded the corner.

She stood, rolling her shoulders and pointing to the window at the other end. “We could jump.”

“And get squished like pancakes?” Wrecker sounded uneasy through his helmet. “No thanks, I’ll take the stairs.”

“We have KXs inbound,” Crosshair interrupted.

Omega walked to Cross’s position, the sniper offering his fire puncher for her to see. The scope looked through the walls and picked up the movement of what looked like a whole platoon of droids. “Shit.”

“Language!” Hunter raised his voice.

“No, I agree. We’re in deep shit.” Cross took back his rifle.

“Omega’s right, the window is our only option if we value our lives,” Tech looked back at the group from the circuit breaker he was fiddling with on the wall.

A duo of security droids came around the corner, blasting away. The Batch dove for cover around both corners, Crosshair, Hunter, and Tech across from Omega and Wrecker.

Omega and Hunter counted down to sync their defence and Omega’s bow was shot into another corridor as soon as she tried to let lose an energy bolt. She jumped back in shock and shook out her hands.

“You okay, kid?” Wrecker shouted over the blaster fire.

“I’m fine, but I don’t have a weapon!”

“Catch,” Crosshair sounded from the commlink wedged in her armour.

Crosshair threw a spare blaster across the hall with expert precision, Omega catching it with one hand and flying out into the fire of the droids. After a couple missed shots, she sent them both to the ground in a sparking heap.

Hunter ran from his spot against the wall and checked Omega over.

“Did they hit you? Are you injured?” He asked frantically.

“What is it with you guys? I’m fine, only a shot in the armour,” she shrugged Hunter’s hands off her shoulders. A fleeting look of hurt passed over his face before relief.

“We don’t have time, they’re rounding the corner,” Crosshair’s voice flooded through the comms.

“You could do what you did on Skako,” Echo looked down the corridor to find Cross firing an offence.

“Not enough time.”

Omega started down the hall towards the window, picking up speed. “The window it is!”

“Omega wait! We have to wait for the ship!” Echo shouted.

“We’re going to be blasted to hell if we wait! Tell them to hurry up!”

She heard Echo’s frantic chatter on the comms and the group’s heavy footfalls bouncing off the round steel walls as they followed her lead.

As the security droids rounded the corner, Omega was pushed through the tinted glass by a bolt to the back, tumbling through the air before landing face-first on the wing of the Havoc Marauder. She flipped herself onto her back and groaned, watching the blaster fire shoot out the window before, one by one, the batch landed on the wing. Their pilots kept the ship steady and flew off in a hurry once everyone had a hold.

If Omega wasn’t shot twice in the armour, she would’ve laughed blissfully as they flew through the fluffy orange clouds, holding out her arms as the moisture-created little droplets running off the armour plates and slicking back her hair. Instead, she laid there on the wing, holding on for dear life and hoping the moisture wouldn’t loosen her grip.

“You okay?” Hunter yelled over the rushing wind to Omega.

“Stop it!” She growled back.

Echo put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Kids are like this when they’re older, it’ll pass. Don’t get hung up on it.”

Hunter only nodded, putting on his stoic face and looked ahead into the clouds.

--

Once they were far enough away from the Imperial compound, the Havoc touched down on a hill in the middle of a rolling prairie. Blue skies with fluffy clouds surrounded them and the plain landscape.

The Bad Batch slid off the wing, Omega refusing Hunter’s help, and waited for their pilots to extend the steps.

Hera exited the ship first, shouting that she was going to kill Omega for her ridiculous plan and started chasing the brunette. Omega took off in a sprint, yelling that it wasn’t her fault while laughing her head off. The Batch started taking bets on whether Omega would outrun Hera or not and cheered the kids on.

Rex watched the madness ensue, leaning against the door frame with a smile. A fleeting and pained memory of Anakin and Ahsoka at the start of her padawan days passed through and his smile dropped, his light mood dampened. He couldn’t let go of family so easily, but it only made it more painful to go on each day without them.

“We should probably get out of here, Sargent. Imps will be crawling all over the planet,” Rex retreated inside to the co-pilot's seat.

“Alright, pack it in guys! Onto the ship!” Echo shouted to the girls far off in the distance.

Omega sprinted up the steps, gasping for air while Hera held a smile on her face, her breathing barely obstructed. She saw the confusion and the team’s heads turning from the ship to her.

“I was track star at my school, 100 meters in 5 seconds,” she said proudly and climbed into the ship.

“Who knew?” Hunter remarked.

“You would if you paid attention to your kids,” Crosshair smirked and boarded the ship with the rest following.

“I do pay attention! You got something you want to say, Cross?”

“Of course not, Sarg.”

--

“Thank you for your hard work, Sargent Hunter,” the rebel cell leader’s recorded message projected on the dash. “You will be fairly compensated and given your next mission in two weeks. Enjoy this time off, there won’t be much more.”

Tech shut down her hologram and looked to Hunter in the seat behind Rex. The rest of the crew waited for their leader’s next order. They hadn’t had two weeks off... ever. The most clones got was a weekend, Omega was constantly working with Nala and then going on missions, and Hera had been training as a pilot or busy with school and family. Even their droids were never shut down for more than a day.

Wrecker scratched the back of his neck. “What are we doing, Sarg?”

Silence.

“Hunter?” Omega piped up from the shared seat with Hera.

“I’m thinking,” he waved them off.

Crosshair scoffed playfully and went further back into the ship. “That’s a first.”

“It’s already pretty tight in here,” he started. “I say we touch down on a planet, enjoy the peace for once.”

Hunter saw Hera visibly deflate and Omega put an arm around her shoulder.

“You can fly the ship, Hera, but only with one of the adults around,” Hunter added in defeat. She bounced in her seat and started talking with Omega excitedly, pressing a button on the armrest and spinning the seat around back to the stars.

“Where are you thinking?” Rex asked, silently praying for no god damn desert planets.

“I don’t know. Tech, any ideas?”

Tech pulled up his trusty datapad and started furiously tapping at the screen.

Crosshair had returned from the poor excuse of a kitchen with two soda cans and strolled smugly through the aisle to Hera and Omega. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the console, and gave the soda over to the kids. They jumped excitedly, not knowing there was any more of the fizzy drinks left, and swiped them from his hands. They filled him in quietly on what they were conversing about as Crosshair gave the rest of the crew a shit-eating smirk.

“I didn’t know we had any soda left,” Wrecker whispered to Hunter across from him.

“We don't.”

“This is why he’s the favourite, isn’t it?” Rex leaned to the side towards the two.

“He did this all the time on Kamino when we were cadets. It got the others off our backs.”

“I just hid in the ceiling panels,” Rex snickered.

“You weren’t always ‘mister beloved of the GAR’?” Echo shoved the captain's shoulder from his place against the wall.

“Hell no. Pretty sure Cody was part of the ‘fuck Rex squad’ at some point.”

“I think we all have seasonal membership cards.”

“Hey!”

“So there’s Mantessa,” Tech interrupted with the list of planets. “A thick jungle planet with a fiercely predatorial native species called the panthacs. They kill quite efficiently in their home environments; I’d quite literally commit murder to get documentation of their-”

“Tech, we have kids on board,” Hunter stopped him. “Maybe something more... vacation-y?”

Tech glared at him. “Vacation-y isn’t even a word-”

“Tech.”

“Fine fine,” he dismissed the idea, a little saddened that Hunter shot it down so eagerly.

“Mimban is largely unexplored and has a very turbulent atmosphere as well as energy storms in the stratosphere. It would be quite the learning experience for Hera to-”

“We aren’t looking for learning experiences, we’re looking for a break,” Echo said.

“You all have ridiculous standards,” he mumbled, scrolling to the bottom of his list. “Numidian Prime. The syndicates have been known to use it from time to time, but with the Empire extending it’s rein, it shouldn’t house too much trouble for us. There’s a very interesting bird species-”

“Tech.”

“I swear it’s habitable and without predatory species that would rip us to shreds,” he dismissed Hunter’s insistence. He tossed the datapad carefully on top of his satchel in the corner. “I think I heard a friend having a camp there, a Calrissian. He’ll let us stay.”

“How do you know?” Rex asked.

“He’s never there.”

Hunter clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention. “It looks like we’re vacationing on Numidian Prime.”

Hera, Omega, and Rex went to work on plotting their course and getting them to lightspeed while the Batch strapped in for the ride.

“After you,” Rex gestured to the console.

“Why thank you, Captain,” Hera smiled and pulled the hyperspace levers back. The ship stopped for a second and shot forward into the stars, a tunnel of churning light making way for the Havoc.

Omega sighed blissfully, sitting back against the seat. “This never gets old.”

--

I haven't posted any fics in 11 days, I really just needed to get something out for y'all.

ALSO

I reached 99 followers yesterday!! Well, it's 101 now, but thank you all for giving me a chance at sharing my love for Star Wars. It's you that makes this possible! I know I have a lot of improving to do when it comes to writing, but I'm so incredibly happy that you're giving me a chance and following along on my journey!!

Part 2 will be up soon (I hope), stick around for that! I post basically every day and I'm constantly online!

More fics of mine!

A War Without a Winning Side (Ahsoka, Rex, Maul series)

One of the Bad Ones (female!oc and Crosshair [platonic])

Only the Beginning (Cap. Howzer Part 1 (part 2 linked))

Hope was a Dangerous Game (male!oc and Crosshair [romantic])

Lightsaber Trials (fluff)

And here's my masterlist for more!

[tiny-slasher]

Billy Lenz x Reader | Therapy Intruder

My friend and I came up with the dumb idea of Billy just busting into the reader’s therapy session, and just...not leaving. That’s all.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

When you'd begun therapy you were skeptical of its effectiveness, but to your surprise, it had proven itself useful. While you were not making progress as swiftly as you would've preferred, you'd finally picked up on the slight improvements in your speech and mannerisms. Your hands no longer shook quite so violently, and you could maintain eye contact just a tiny bit longer before it grew uncomfortable. The fear of disappointing your therapist was always there, in the back of your mind, but she always smiled so warmly at you. Sometimes, you found yourself opening up to her a bit more, and when you didn't, she never pushed you.

Finally, after so many sessions, you'd finally begun to feel like it had all been worth it. Some days were still horrible, but you found yourself smiling more during the better ones.

Still...it wasn't easy.

"You remember what I told you when you first came in here?" your therapist asked.

You frowned, unsure what she meant.

"I told you that therapy gives you the tools you need to cope, and that it's up to you to use them."

You sighed, remembering. It felt like so long ago.

"You've been doing very well. Even small progress is progress," she smiled at you.

"I just thought I'd be farther along by now, is all," you murmured.

"When you set unrealistic expectations for yourself, and for others, you will more often than not be disappointed," she said. "This isn't a game you can win or lose, and slower progression doesn't equal failure."

"I know..." you said. "I just-"

Your heart lept into your throat when the door slammed open, rattling the painting hanging on the wall beside it.

"Billy, your session isn't for another fifteen minutes. Will you wait outside, please?" your therapist hadn't so much as flinched at the intrusion.

Shock overrode your anxiety as you stared at the man. He was fairly tall, with fluffy, brunette hair, and a somewhat outdated fashion sense. His brown eyes zeroed in on you, piercing your soul like a sword. His lack of expression revealed absolutely nothing, while he stood eerily still in the doorway.

"I want to come in now."

Warmth filled your belly from the deep tone of his voice, a bit hoarse as it met your ears. You tore your gaze away from his, discomfort finally catching up with you. Yet, there was a telling prickle on the back of your neck as he continued to stare at you.

"I'm with someone else, right now," your therapist calmly explained. "You need to wait your turn."

"I want to come in now."

Your therapist leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, how you wished you could've been anywhere else during the silence that followed. The sound of Billy's shuffling was extremely loud- almost as loud as your heartbeat. You swallowed just as he let out a loud, impatient sigh.

"You need to wait outside. Just for a few more minutes, alright?"

Your shoulders eased when the door slammed shut, until some air caressed the side of your face as Billy took a seat next to yours. You heard a sigh from your therapist as she told him that he needed to leave, but neither you nor Billy were really listening.

His eyes were no longer looking at you, but down at his hands as he picked at his fingernails. Still, your neck prickled, and you suspected he was watching you very intently from his peripherals. His face was still blank, almost eerily so.

"Billy, you can't sit in on someone else's session-"

"Can't sit! Can't sit!" Billy blurted out, sharply turning to you. "You should leave."

His eyes glanced down to see your mouth open in incredulity, a bit frightened by his outburst. He winced.

"Billy! Out!" your therapist sharply, but calmly asserted.

His knuckled grew white as his fingers dug into his palms, trembling in what appeared to be frustration. You knew how hard it could be to show up to therapy sometimes, but it was even worse if you were early and had to wait. Fifteen minutes might not seem like such a great length of time, but you knew that it felt like years when you had something on your mind.

"It's alright, I'll just cut it short today," you said, standing. "It's just fifteen minutes."

Billy's eyes widened as he watched you. His breathing was heavy, while his mouth was shut in a tight, thin line.

"You can talk about a lot in fifteen minutes," your therapist frowned.

There was a bewildered expression on Billy's face as you glanced back at him, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah...you can," you said.

As you shut the door, you heard Billy quietly say, "Yeah, you can."

~*~

You were early to your next session, having to sit in one of the waiting room chairs outside of your therapist's office. You briefly mulled over what you wanted to talk about, trying not to dwell too long on those thoughts. Otherwise, you'd risk overanalyzing everything, and just giving yourself more unneeded stress.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you almost didn't notice someone sit down in the chair beside you.

Curious to see who would choose to sit so close, despite all of the other empty seats in the room, you turned to see the man who'd interrupted your last session - Billy. He was facing down at his hands once again, his eyes frantically glancing over you every now and then. Unsure what to say, you just adjusted in your seat and went back to your thoughts.

"Hello, Billy!" the receptionist greeted, giving Billy a warm smile.

"Hello," he replied gruffly, turning to them.

"Do you want any candy?" they asked, gesturing to the small bowl in front of them.

"Got any red ones?" Billy asked, getting up and walking over.

"I think I see a few."

Clearly, Billy had been seeing your therapist longer than you had. Or maybe, he was just more sociable than you were... While the receptionist had greeted you when you walked in, she didn't do so quite so familiarly. And while that didn't bother you, it made you wonder just how long Billy had been in therapy.

Your therapist walked into the room as Billy grabbed a lollipop and shoved it in his mouth. She greeted you, and then him, to which he replied by loudly slurping on his candy. She just smiled, almost endearingly, and then gestured you to follow her for your session.

You passed by Billy as you made your way to the door, and jumped when you felt what you could only assume was his hand on your wrist. However, when you turned to him, he wasn't facing you. He was staring down at the bowl of candy in front of him, his expression blank and distant.

"You coming?" your therapist asked.

"Yeah...sorry," you replied, spinning on your heel and following her again.

Later, when your therapy session had ended, your therapist had asked you to tell Billy that it was his turn.

You found Billy standing at the window, still sucking on a lollipop. He immediately turned to you when you opened the door, both eyes burning into yours. You swallowed, feeling bare, and made your way to him.

"Uh...it's your turn."

Billy stared at you for a long moment, and then held out a lollipop, "Want one?"

You blinked, taken aback, "U-uh..."

Instead of waiting for an answer, Billy shoved the lollipop into your hand.

His hand lingered a bit too long on yours, his grip firm, and his eyes staring into yours. It was near impossible for you to look away from them, until you felt his fingers run across the back of your hand. You gently pulled away, thanking him, and then left.

You didn't notice the way he watched you.

~*~

The same thing happened the next few weeks.  You hadn't intended on showing up early again, but life had other plans, and it would appear Billy was dealing with a similar dilemma.

On one particular day, he chose the seat beside yours once again, despite you sitting in a different spot. He leaned back in his seat, this time, drumming his fingers against the armrests. It only took a moment for you to smell his cologne, which you were positive he hadn't been wearing the last two times you'd seen him.

"Do you like it? It's Brut," he said, answering your unspoken question.

"Uh, yeah it's nice!" you nodded, taken aback. "It suits you."

"U-uh yeah, it suits you," Billy replied, in tone eerily similar to yours, and then shook his head. "Sorry."

"Oh, it's alright," you assured him.

"...It bothers most people," his face contorting.

"Well, it doesn't bother me," you assured him.

“It...doesn’t?” 

You shook your head, “No. Why would it?”

"Why would it- SHUT UP, BILLY!"

You jumped at the sudden harshness in his tone, and were a bit frightened by the dull, haunted look in his eyes. They were cold, and angry, but were directed inward towards himself.

"STUPID BILLY, YOU'RE CRAZY! SHUT THE HELL UP!" he yelled in a voice that sounded nothing like his own, before slamming his mouth shut.

Abruptly, he stood and strutted over to the candy bowl at the front desk. The receptionist was watching him, but didn't seem too surprised. Billy grabbed a lollipop from the bowl, almost toppling it over, and then shoved it into his mouth with the wrapper still on. His cheeks were red as he turned back to face you, eyes not meeting yours when he went to sit back down.

"Is that what people say to you?" you asked quietly.

Billy didn't reply, only continued sucking his lollipop through the wrapper.

"Here," you gently reached over to turn his chin towards you, tugging the lollipop out of his mouth.

You felt his eyes on you as you unwrapped his lollipop, trying not to show too much disgust at the drool covering the wrapper. You handed it back to him afterwards, with a smile.

"There, it probably tastes better now."

"Uh huh," Billy murmured, not even moving to put it back in his mouth.

You squirmed under his gaze. His eyes spoke differently than his silence, with several surprised emotions flickering through them. He seemed like he had so much he wanted to say, and yet he clenched his jaw shut.

"People can be pretty nasty, you know?" you said, looking away. "It is hard to ignore...but try not to let them get to you."

The door opened, and your therapist greeted you, gesturing for you to follow.

You turned to Billy just before leaving and said, "For what it's worth, I don't think you're stupid, or crazy."

Billy's eyes widened, surprise settling over his features. He grabbed your wrist as you turned to leave.

"W-wait-" he cut himself off, muttering lowly to himself.

"Yes?"

Billy stood up, trembling all over.

"I don't think you're stupid, or crazy," he echoed, looking directly into your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and couldn't help but huff out a small laugh. Your surprise only amplified when you felt his chapped lips kiss you on the cheek. He pulled away, his own cheeks red, looking at you for any signs of complaint. When you gave his hand a squeeze, you could see the tension drop from his shoulders.

"Thank you," you whispered.

He didn't reply, but squeezed your hand back before you pulled away. Seeing the mischievous grin on his lips as you left, you wondered what on earth you'd gotten yourself into.

"Billy," your therapist playfully chided. "It's not your turn yet."

You were so flustered you didn't notice that he was less than a foot behind you. He smirked at you when you glanced back, and you had a feeling this was going to be a common issue.

[fantastic-rambles]

The Snakes’ Deception

Fandom: Haikyuu!! (@aikk00's Racing AU)

Characters (in order of appearance): Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsurou, Yaku Morisuke, Sakishima Isumi, Daishou Suguru, Fukunaga Shouhei, Yamamoto Taketora, Haiba Lev, other Nekoma members (not mentioned by name)

Warnings: Physical Violence, Language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: When the Snakes, led by Daishou Suguru, come to challenge Kuroo for the title of Drift King, the Nekoma Crew isn’t going to take that lying down. But when the Snakes start to play nasty, the stakes are raised even further, and Kuroo has to fight to stay calm and prove that he’s the undisputed champion.

[A/N: RIP my dozen other drafts for other stories. I actually was planning to write this a few days before the Daishou art (also by aikk00), except I knew practically nothing about drift racing so I needed to do research, lul. I watched Tokyo Drift, some Initial D, some Grand Tour, and did a lot of reading online on drift racing and drifting in general, but tbh, I still don’t quite understand the mechanics (I don’t drive stick and I can’t go out and learn how to drift), so I apologize if this is horribly inaccurate. :P]

"The road condition looks good today, but it's still a little wet from earlier. Watch yourself going into the turns so you don't end up spinning out. The Snakes will probably do something though, especially since they asked you to race with Sakishima before Daishou. It should be okay when you're in the lead, but be ready to take defensive measures when you're chasing. My guess is that they'll try to take advantage of your skill at closing the gap and your power-over drift to orchestrate some sort of accident," Kenma commented quietly without looking up from his laptop, his fingers tapping away as he inputted a continuous stream of data. He seemed oblivious to the roar of the crowd outside the car, and Kuroo reached over to tousle his black-and-gold hair affectionately.

"Got it, Kenma. Anything else?"

"I know you won't listen, but you should just go all-out from the start. Not your usual way of racing. But if you do end up chasing, just do a normal drift and keep space between you and Sakishima. If they are aiming for an accident, it's more likely to happen when you're on the outside, so it'll slam into your side and Sakishima will be safe. But your numbers look good. I'm just going to tell Yaku-san to put a little more air into your rear tires," Kenma replied, closing the lid on his laptop and pushing open the passenger-side door, letting the sound of cheering and taunts into the vehicle. After he'd left and closed the door, Kuroo rolled down his window to light a cigarette, letting the smoke drift out into the night sky. Kenma hadn't said anything that he hadn't expected--especially with regard to the Snakes--but it was always reassuring to get their analyst's perspective before a race. Kenma wasn't the type to get fired up like the rest of the crew, but that cool-headed analysis was part of the reason they were able to climb so high in the rankings despite not always having the best cars or the best drivers. The ridiculous title of "Drift King" that he'd somehow ended up with was the result of Kenma's work as much as his own.

Still, Kenma was right. Even if it meant getting into an accident, Kuroo didn't intend to change the way he drifted. Part of the thrill of these races was the pure adrenaline high from going fast, especially when there was the risk of injury or even death. It was the reason why he'd mastered the power-over drift so that he could keep accelerating through the turn, and swung close enough to his opponents during his chases to make them panic. Even against the Snakes and their underhanded dealings, he'd show them that his way of fighting was still better, no matter what they threw at him.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him as Yaku leaned over his open window, the electric pump in his hand.

"You're good to go, Kuroo. Go ahead and show off," Yaku shouted over the din. Kuroo nodded, flicking his cigarette out the window and rolling up the glass. Yaku stepped back as he revved the engine, pulling up to the starting line where Sakishima was already waiting. Unlike most racers, Kuroo preferred chasing from the start to throw his opponent off his game. Before he'd inherited the title of Drift King, he'd been known as the Comeback Kid for his knack for overcoming what was traditionally seen as an unfavorable position. But the psychological benefit of overtaking the opponent and the pressure it put on the other racer, in addition to his skill with his clean lines and sharp angles that allowed him to do so consistently, had eventually shot him to the top of the Tokyo drifting world.

At the signal, Sakishima peeled past the starting line, and Kuroo quickly shot after him, staying close to his tail as they sped down the course. Even though his heart was racing, his head was completely clear, every sense focused on the view just beyond his windshield. Both he and Kenma were confident that Sakishima wouldn't try anything until the turn, but that was no reason to relax, especially at the speeds that they were going. Still, nothing happened when they reached the first clipping point, and Kuroo's eyes narrowed as he quickly estimated the distances and speeds between their cars, making his calculations swiftly and throwing himself into a drift just a heartbeat after Sakishima.

And it was perfect. His hand rested casually on the wheel as his tires squealed, sending up plumes of smoke as the tail of his car whipped around the curve, flying nearly parallel to Sakishima. The Snake seemed rattled as he spun into the next turn, turning slightly wide as Kuroo effortlessly stuck to him, their cars nearly touching as Kuroo grinned. It was pretty clear already which of them was the better drifter, not that it had ever been a question.

He let the car carry itself into the third point with just a few adjustments on his side, almost laughing as Sakishima had to drag on his own wheel to make the turn. The perfect chance presented itself almost immediately, and he aimed for the gap in Sakishima's barely controlled swing. But then, suddenly, the other car was spinning out as the Snake overcompensated, an out-of-control, two-ton wrecking ball flying toward him.

Kuroo jerked his wheel, pulling himself out of the drift and spinning out himself, the two cars making donuts on the road until he couldn't tell left from right. But the ominous crunch of metal never came, and when his car finally screeched to a stop, Kuroo slapped himself out of the harness and kicked his door open, stepping out onto the asphalt and casting his glare out at the spectators, looking for one specific slit-eyed face in particular.

"Daishou!" he bellowed, stomping toward the crowd and seizing the Snake by the collar, dragging him over the barrier. "What the fuck was that?"

But the other man just stared at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "'What the fuck' was what, Kuroo-san? Isumi made a mistake. Everyone saw that. He's not used to wet roads, but that's why I asked you to run with him so he could get some practice, because you're the only one good enough to not get hurt if he really fucks up. Like he did."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Kuroo spun and slammed Daishou onto the ground, making the Snake wince as his back made contact with the asphalt. "That trick had your slime smeared all over it. You wanted to use Sakishima to take me out so you'd win the next run by default. If I hadn't been expecting something like that from you, I'd probably be in an ambulance on my way to the hospital right now."

Sakishima had caught up to them and was now clinging to Kuroo's arm, trying to pull him off while babbling insincere apologies. Kuroo shrugged him off impatiently as Daishou's hands landed on his wrist, trying to make him let go, but Kuroo shook him like a terrier with a rat, the adrenaline and testosterone giving him an incredible high.

"Really, Kuroo-san. Ask anyone. They would all say that it's a normal accident," Daishou protested. "You know these kinds of things happen all the time. But you're okay, Isumi's okay. No harm, no foul, right?"

The crowd was murmuring in the background, but Kuroo couldn't hear what they were saying through the blood pounding in his ears. He was just drawing his fist back to punch that smarmy smile off the Snake's face when a deluge of water crashed over both of them. Sputtering, he looked up to see Shouhei holding an empty bucket, Kenma standing beside him.

"Cooled off, Kuro?" Kenma asked in his deadpan voice as he approached them. "Or should I ask Fukunaga to get another bucket?"

Kuroo grimaced, shaking the water out of his eyes and hair as he leaned back slightly, still not letting Daishou go. Kenma crouched beside him, speaking softly, so that the crowd couldn't hear.

"You know that the Snakes are just like this. To everyone else, this does look like a normal accident. If you go any further, you're the one that's going to get a bad reputation. Right now, we can still pass it off as the heat of the moment. Let him go, Kuro."

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Kuro," Daishou taunted. Kuroo's expression shut down, and he drew back his arm again. But this time, Kenma clung to it, still hissing in his ear.

"Stop it, Kuro. You know that everyone says that. They've been saying it for years. It doesn't mean anything. Stop letting him get to you!"

Kuroo grimaced again, but he listened to Kenma, letting his friend quietly talk him down until he was calm enough to shove Daishou away and get up. Accepting a towel from Shouhei, he tousled his hair dry while glaring at Daishou, who got back to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Sakishima-san forfeited the run," Kenma continued, still talking in his flat, measured tone. "So you'll be up against Daishou later. Are you up to it?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm ready to beat his ass," Kuroo snarled, and Kenma nodded at Shouhei, who ran across the asphalt to retrieve Kuroo's car. They'd probably replace the rear wheels to be safe, and then Kenma would have to run his checks again, but when they were done, his car would be better than new and more than ready to run the cheating bastard into the ground.

He reached into his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes, bending over to accept Kenma's offer of a light, and took a deep drag to steady his nerves. Being emotional during a race was the fastest way to get a ride to the morgue, so he needed to re-center himself. By then, the rest of his team had caught up to him, and Tora's particularly heated spiel about Daishou and his team helped bleed away most of the anger as they walked back to the starting line. Kenma had slipped away at some point, and Yaku was nowhere to be seen, so they were probably working on the car while he settled down. Really, he didn't deserve his friends.

By the time they arrived back at the beginning, the cool night air had washed away the rest of his irritation, which was probably Kenma's intention in making him walk back with the others. Shouhei and Yaku had just finished installing new tires, and Kenma was hunched over his laptop again on the curb, only looking up briefly when Kuroo sat down next to him.

"Thanks."

Kenma shrugged, his face bleached by the light from his screen. "I'm just doing my job."

"I mean earlier."

Kenma shrugged again, and a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the clicking of the keyboard. The rest of the team was huddled around the car, making checks and occasionally bringing Kenma more numbers, gradually shifting to sit around their captain and his brain, filling the silence with their chatter as other drifters made their runs.

"Hey, wait! You're playing a game, Kenma!" Lev protested, peering over Kenma's shoulder. "What about the race?"

"Kuroo will be fine," Kenma replied calmly as Kuroo looked over at his screen too, which seemed to be displaying the view through a sniper's scope. "His car's fine, and Daishou wants to beat Kuroo. If he tries the same thing, it'll be suspicious, and even if he did, if Kuroo doesn't spin out again, then Daishou will lose. And Kuroo is better than him, so if he does try anything else, it'd be more likely that he'd mess up and Kuroo would still win. His best chance at this point is a fair fight, and that means Kuroo could drive laps around him all day."

Kuroo grinned, standing up and stretching. "Well then, I guess that's my cue to get ready. I'll see you all at the finish line."

He walked over to his car, standing by the driver's door and just running a hand over the shining, red exterior for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he got inside, strapping himself down. The familiar feeling of exhilaration that he got just before a run made him smile as he pulled into place behind the next pair of cars, watching out of the corner of his eye as Daishou pulled up next to him.

And then, soon enough, they were flying down the road, Kuroo chasing again, keeping the pressure on his opponent. As Kenma had said, there was no way for Daishou to beat him, and he proved that as he took the lead at the very first bend, hitting the edge perfectly while gunning his engine through the whole course, making the best run that he'd probably ever done and leaving Daishou in his dust. If it was possible, he was even sharper on the turns than he had been against Sakishima, pushing himself and his car to the utmost limit. And there was no better feeling than watching the Snake come up to him to shake his hand after his loss, smiling like it hurt his teeth.

"As expected of the Drift King. But it won't last forever. Someday, someone will knock you off that throne."

And Kuroo had smiled back, the smirk that he knew infuriated Daishou more than anything else.

"Come at me whenever you want. I'll beat you down every time."

[A/N2: This isn't KuroKen. They're just really good childhood friends, so Kenma knows how to calm Kuroo down because they've been part of each other's lives for so long, and Kenma in particular is good at paying attention to people. Kuroo gets pissed at Daishou for calling Kenma his "girlfriend" not because of the implication that he's "whipped" (because Kuroo is perfectly secure in his masculinity), but rather because I have a headcanon that Kenma got teased a lot for being "girly" (weak, thin, kinda androgenous, etc.) growing up, so Kuroo still gets upset when that's used to insult his best friend (even though Kenma honestly doesn't give a fuck). But they're not in a romantic relationship; they just spend a lot of time together.

Of course, if you wanna interpret it as KuroKen, that's your prerogative, but that wasn't my intention in writing this.]

[moonstruckbucky]

The Recruit (6/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Some swearing.

Notes: Wow, last chapter blew the fuck up. I’m excited that y’all seemed to hate that cliffhanger, but I hope this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy! x

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

Captain Rogers looks awkward in your living space - broad, large, and imposing where he sits on the couch. He sits stiffly, feeling out of place in your personal space, your private space, observing the tiny glimpses of who you are. He doesn’t feel he deserves it, doesn’t deserve the chance you’ve, to his own shock, given him.

Your rigid posture, hands behind your back, imply you’re expecting orders. And despite his attitudes toward you, you’d obey without question.

It makes his mouth twitch sadly, and he shakes his head. The gesture draws your eyebrows downward. Confusion, perplexion - he can’t blame you. He’d stood outside your door for thirty minutes and he’s still unsure of what he’s actually going to say.

How about, I’m sorry?

He knows you’re losing your already waning patience with him the longer he remains silent. Swallowing heavily, he forces himself to meet your eyes.

“I… I owe you some apologies.”

You almost succeed in masking the sheer shock your expression morphs into, but you aren’t quick enough. He huffs through his nose, a bit amused by you.

“I know it isn’t what you were expecting to hear but… I’d been doing some thinking - a lot of thinking, actually - and the way I’ve been treating you is far from fair. Or right. I haven’t been very accommodating to you since you first interviewed here, and for that, I’m sorry.”

It’s deathly silent between the two of you, and you’ve managed to school your features back into that quiet stoicism that kind of unnerves him. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and each second you don’t speak drags by like a lifetime.

“What game are you playing, Captain?” you finally retort, terse and clipped. Even from across the room he can see the suspicion in your eyes, the mistrust. He hates that he’d been the one to put it there.

He spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence. “No games, I promise. I know I haven’t given you any reasons to trust me but, I sincerely hope you believe my sincerest apology. My treatment of you...it wasn’t intended to be personal…”

“It sure as hell felt personal,” you snap, and Captain Rogers winces, nodding in understanding. “I mean, what’s your angle here, Captain?”

The title is said scathingly, mockingly, a sneer curling your features. A look that’s so familiar when it’s directed at him it makes his stomach sink, makes it feel like it’s full of rocks. The guilt and disgust with himself puts a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“What are you getting out of this? There’s no way you’ve just happened to have a change of heart.”

“And if I have?” he questions sincerely.

“Then I don’t believe you,” is your immediate reply. Muscles in your jaw jumping, you continue, “From the get-go you have been nothing but a self-righteous asshole to me, ridiculing me in front of the other agents, second-guessing me, making me feel like I’d chosen the wrong career. You make me feel small, Captain Rogers, and like I don’t belong here. That being said, if your opinion of me actually mattered as much as you think it does, I would have put my notice in months ago.”

He knows the feeling of not being taken seriously, knows the pressure of being underestimated, ridiculed, taunted, pushed until he thinks he’s going to break. The fact he’s pushed you to this point puts nausea in his stomach.

You, meanwhile, can see every emotion as it plays out across his face. The furrow in his brow has grown more prominent, his frown deeper, fingers tightening into fists where they rest on his thighs. He squeezes his eyes shut and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to be sick. A small part of you realizes he’s actually disgusted in learning how he’s made you feel, but the angrier, less rational side of you is quickly stomping it back down.

He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness - not yet. Too many months had been spent questioning yourself, your training, your confidence. Your resentment of him for making you feel such a way is nearly palpable.

“You’ll understand why I’m having trouble believing a single word you’ve said to me.” Not a question, but a confident statement, and he can only nod. He’s done a lot of that in the time he’s been here, but he deserves every biting remark and question of motive you throw at him.

“So...where do we go from here?”

A valid question, but you aren’t sure of the answer, not right away. A few more moments’ pause and then:

“Give me time. Treat me like a human being, like an agent. Like I belong here because you and I know both know that I do. Start with that, and we’ll see. I can promise to remain professional - but only that.”

“I understand,” he says, and he stands because he’s getting the feeling he’s beginning to overstay his very reluctant welcome. “I know you don’t trust me, but I hope I can earn it back. You are a good agent, Y/N, truly. One of the best I’ve seen.”

He departs after your sharp inhale, a compliment that staggers you, honest-to-god nearly brings you to tears. Because even though he’s been a royal pain in your ass, it’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear him say. 

You’re sure that makes you some kind of mental case, but you can’t find it in you to care. Once the door closes, your knees buckle, dropping you into the armchair. A few tears escape your eyes, emotions in overdrive - first the incident with Bucky, and now this? Your head is spinning, a pulse behind your eyes that warns of an oncoming migraine.

You groan, dig your fingers into your eyes because while dealing with the typhoon that is Captain Rogers, you’d forgotten about Bucky. You’d kissed him, or he’d kissed you - you aren’t really sure how it happened, only that it did.

And it shouldn’t have.

As comfortable as you feel around Bucky, as addictive as his presence is, this can only spell trouble - for you and for him. For one, he’s a higher rank, a commanding officer right underneath Captain Rogers. If anything were to happen between you, it’d be so deeply frowned upon you’d probably have to find another job.

Slamming your fist into the couch feels counterproductive and not nearly as satisfying as punching a wall, but you doubt Director Hill would appreciate having to repair it. So you settle for a hot shower and some Bailey’s in a cup of coffee, a book in bed once you’ve rubbed your skin raw. You have a mission debrief later this afternoon, your second mission, and you can’t help the swell of insecurity - will you fuck this one up like you almost did the last one?

Cursing under your breath at the endless bout of tug-of-war in your head, you abandon the book and rifle through your files for the mission summary. You’re determined to do this next one right.

A part of you, a tiny, miniscule part that speaks up against the crowd, wants to do this to prove Captain Rogers right - that you are a good agent, and that hiring you had been a benefit to SHIELD. You’re determined not to let your blunder on your first mission become your legacy. It bothers you that you feel this way - after all, you’d asserted to the Captain himself that you didn’t give a shit what he thought of you. 

It clouds your concentration - your insistence that the Captain’s opinion doesn’t matter, yet your determination to earn your place amongst the ranks. Growling under your breath, you force yourself to memorize the mission notes front and backwards, shove the Captain and his opinions to the back of your head.

You take the stairs down to the conference room, give yourself a little more time to pour over the debrief. When you get there, you’re surprised to see Sam Wilson amongst the six other agents chosen for this mission.

“Agent L/N,” Hill greets, standing at the forefront of the room in front of a projector screen. She waits for you to take your seat before launching into the mission.

A drug kingpin who grew a little too curious about sense-enhancing substances. A bit too close to HYDRA territory, and it’s a simple extraction job. In and out, cease and desist.

Sam’s sent for supervision, to act as the senior agent in case things go awry. To your delight, they don’t. In fact, things go very, very well. Instead of being ordered to stay behind, Sam assigns you the lead position, lets you map out the plan to the other agents. A few heated glares, others envious of the responsibility you’re given, but overall, your plan comes to fruition neatly and quietly. Minimal hand-to-hand, zero injuries or deaths on either side, and you’ve successfully pilfered the scientific documents for the new substances.

You’re congratulated by Sam back on the jet, a bright grin against his dark skin. You like Sam, respect him and appreciate that he hasn’t seemed to judge you for the last time you worked together. In fact, he seems to recognize completely your desire for redemption and he sings your praises on the ride back to the tower, to your embarrassment. Some of the other agents warm up to it and join in, while others roll their eyes and turn away.

It brings heat to your cheeks as he rests a hand on your shoulder and says, lowly so as not to be too overheard, “I can see why Barnes likes you so much.”

A cold panic washes over you, but you just manage to keep it off your face. “What are you talking about?”

A simple disbelieving glance from Sam, a nervous shuffle on your end, and it tells him everything. He smiles knowingly.

“I won’t tease you about it, but you got our resident Iceman all tied up in knots.”

He chortles heartily while your face flames, and you have to look away. Though you feel the twitch of a smile trying to get through. It shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as it does, considering just that morning you’d run away from him.

But knowing you make him feel the same way he does you puts a lightness in your chest, and you resolve to talk to him, apologize for running. The flutters in your stomach intensify as the jet nears the tower, and if Sam picks up on your sudden urgency, he doesn’t say anything.

Chapter Seven

[vagrantblvrd]

You guys know what?

Modern AU idea thingy where Din finally gets to meet Luke’s biker gang and yet somehow still thinks Luke killed a guy once and is on the run from the law after meeting those idiots???

Din meets them after he and Luke have been dating a while - officially dating, that is.

Not that confusing period of time where Din things like Din thinking Luke was inviting him out to watch a movie they both wanted to see because friends do that kind of thing, don’t they? And if they both realized they’d skipped lunch - Din had to deal with a stubborn kitchen sink leaking in one of the units, and Luke got suckered into talking about him teaching classes at her gym outside of the ones she let him and Obi-Wan hold there for their kids, for paying customers of hers.

Anyway, Luke knew a place nearby, if Din doesn’t have to get back to Grogu yet, and other such shenanigans.

Those times Luke thought Din was asking a buddy to keep him company at the some event or other with Grogu’s daycare/school, and you would not believe the amount of pictures Luke has saved on his phone of Grogu dressed as a sunflower, or the frog that one time, and Din is like, dying, because Luke is exactly his kind of idiot and anyway.

They cleared that one up and have been dating for a few months when Din goes to Luke’s to see him sitting on his couch with this look on his face. The kind of look you see on people in the movies when some important historical landmark is destroyed in front of them by invading aliens or they’ve somehow managed to survive Black Friday.

(Din was in the fucking trenches okay, worked retail for a while way back when, worked for a damned toy store, he has seen hell and lived to tell the tale.)

“Luke?”

Luke looks at Din, which is when Din sees Luke’s holding his phone. Thinks he got bad news? Maybe his family on the other coast, the one he struggles with sometimes, wants to share with Din because he loves them and he loves Din, but.

Complicated.

Din sits next to Luke, watches him carefully. Doesn’t want to push him, spook him, Telegraphs his intent when he takes Luke’s phone out of his hand and puts it on the coffee table, takes Luke’s hand in his and squeezes.

“Is something wrong?”

It takes a moment, but then Luke blinks, comes back from wherever he went -

“What?” he asks, and seems to realize that oh, hey, Din’s there. “Oh, uh. No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Kind of blurts out that last bit, and realizes it gives him and his current mental state away because he winces, gives Din this wobbly little smile.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says again, Din closer to believing it, that vise around his heart loosening -

“Wedge and the others want to meet you.”

Luke’s just blurting things out again, but it’s fine because Din is like !!! and also !!!

"Oh?” he says, because it’s obvious from what Luke’s told him about them that Luke also loves his very stupid, very dumb friends who ride motorcycles and are in a gang that have matching tattoos and jackets and patches and who knows what else, but murder is a a very real possibility. “When?”

Luke gives Din a look, because it’s kind of a joke between them now, the thing where Din thinks Luke killed a man once and is on the run from the law, but it also kind of isn’t, because Din.

“I promise you won’t have help them hide any bodies,” Luke says, which is great because Luke’s the only one Din will help when it comes to hiding bodies

(Well, and Grogu, obviously. Possibly Cara, but really only because she would be carrying the body with her and the neighbors might see, and anyway, yes.)

Din finds out Biggs and Wedge and the others do this thing once, maybe twice if things are going well for them, a year. Take a couple of weeks off to hop on their bikes and go on a road trip. Usually there’s a biker convention/gathering on the other end of the road trip, but this year?

Luke’s told them so much about Din and Grogu and this happy little life he’s built for himself out here they just absolutely have to check things out for themselves, you know? Make sure Luke’s okay, that Din is treating him right - Luke rolls his eyes as he tells Din about that part because he can take care of himself, and they know it, but still.

Anyway, this year they’re coming to see Luke, will be by in a few weeks, and sorry to freak Din out, but they can be a bit much, sometimes?

Anyway, anyway.

Din is quietly !!! about Luke’s old biker gang coming by to vet him. Like, the thing about not having a squeaky clean past, but he’s kind of a do-gooder.

(Boba thinks it’s hilarious the way people who come to his shop are wary around Din like he’s not the biggest softy in the world - look at how he dotes on his kid, you know? Also, marshmallow, but yeah, fine, bad boy you wouldn’t want to take home to mom, whatever.)

He almost, almost forgets about the upcoming visit, but then there’s a day he’s down at Boba’s shop. Picked Grogu up from daycare/school and dropped by to talk about covering for some of Boba’s people the next week when they hear bikes coming down the street.

Nothing to worry about because Boba’s bike shop? Place where bikes are taken to fixed and whatnot???

Only, huh, sure does seem to be a lot of bikes, you know? A lot of bikes all at once, even. And just as Boba gets this annoyed look on his face about the racket, Din gets a text from Luke.

Ignores Boba going out to see what all the commotion is when it stops outside of the shop and checks the text to see a simple, chilling message: we’re outside

He gets an equally shilling message a few seconds later: :DDDDDDDDDDDD

Din is like !!! because, well, that explains the bikes outside? But Boba yelling to Din there’s a biker gang outside that wants to meet him is also a clue, so.

Din looks over to where Grogu was quietly playing with his toys and is like oh, no, because Grogu is gone and Boba left the door open and he runs out to find him.

Not worried about Luke’s biker gang because Luke loves those idiots and anyone he loves that much can’t be bad, but his kid, okay, his kid is a goddamned terror.

Looks cute as hell, but even Luke agrees about Grogu being a terror.

(That whole thing about taking one to know one, Din assumes.)

When Din gets outside it’s to Boba giving him a look before he goes back inside to wrangle paperwork.

Grogu is sitting in front of Luke on his bike, and Grogu is now sporting a tiny bike helmet with the starbirds on either side that looks like Luke’s tattoo.

Also?

A tiny jacket that matches the one Luke wears sometimes when he’s riding his bike, that the other bikers surrounding Luke are wearing and Din is like.

His heart because that shit’s adorable as hell? But also, oh, no, his kid’s going to be in a biker gang like Luke and Din’s going to have to help them hide so many bodies. :(((((((((

And then it’s Luke introducing Din to his friends (also people who helped Luke and his family unravel this major conspiracy that went on for over twenty years and was on the news for forever and also everyone but Din seems to be aware of, but yeah) who are all :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD when Luke’s around to run interference, but the moment Luke’s out of the room and whatnot?

Wedge is a high-ranking military officer, as are most of the gang, and they have their own connections who wouldn’t rat them out to Luke if Din does something to hurt Luke, you know.

Just putting that out there, friend. :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD

(Like, hey. Arguments and shit, they happen. But do something to break his heart, and he’ll have them to deal with, forget Leia and the others.)

But also, also.

They do like him, think it’s hilarious he thinks they’re a bunch of hardcore bikers or whatever, you know? They just happen to share a love of bikes, and friendship with Luke who they are super protective of, and also adore the hell of Grogu, as much as he adores them.

Also, though, also?

Din riding with Luke and Grogu goes with Wedge - “Din, relax. He’s as safe as he would be with me.” - on a ride on the roads outside of the city.

Gorgeous views and when they hit a wide open stretch of road they can see down for miles the others show off a little, switch positions and the whatnot so smoothly it’s obvious they’ve been riding together for years, know one another and how they think, react and so on.

Wedge and Grogu pull up alongside Luke and Din, and friendly insults are tossed back and forth and then Wedge guns it, and Luke glances back at Din, like are they really going to let him get away with that?

Which, no. No they are not, and then it’s this race between them, the rest of the Luke’s little biker gang (family) fanned out behind them.

Wedge and Grogu win of course, because Luke’s bike is carrying two full grown men while Wedge’s is carrying a tiny child and also Grogu.

Still, looking at the look on Grogu’s face, that huge, huge smile as Luke’s old biker gang high fives him and pats him on the back, the way Wedge puts him up on his shoulders and floats the idea of them teaming up from then on since he’s good luck -

Din could maybe understand if Luke would have let them win anyway.

But also, also, there being a lake or something out there where they decide to camp for a few days, Have tents set up and a barbecue pits and bonfire going, Grogu learning teaching Wedge and the others the correct way to roast marshmallows and build the perfect s’more while Din and Luke go for a last spin around the lake before it gets too late. Stop on a little rise over lookig the lake, smile at the boonfire on the other side, laughter drifting over the water to them and it’s like.

Din can’t be expected not to kiss Luke, you know? Pull Luke’s helmet off and smile at how happy he looks, lit up with it, and the worst case of helme hair Din has seen in his entire damn life -

“Rude, hurtful,” Luke accuses, but he’s laughing, and happy, and anyway.

Din kisses him, because he can’t not, and Luke seems to be on board with that whole line of thought because they do that for a while.

Don’t stop until their phones buzz at the same time - and Din has no idea how Wedge got his phone number, but the picture he sent him and Luke of Grogu about to shove a truly impressive multi-level s’more in his mouth while the others cheer him on is both adorable and horrifying.

“Oh my God,” Luke says, having the same realization as Din that a Grogu powered by that much sugar would surely be unstoppable.

They get to the others too late to stop things, of course they do, but it’s almost - almsot - worth it to see Wedge and the others being terrified by Grogu in the throes of major sugar rush.

The two of them certainly get excellent video of the whole disaster that will kep their black little hearts warm though the coldest, bitterest of winters.

While Grogu traumatizes Luke’s old biker gang Luke tells Din how they all met.

Luke who was this weird kid who’d made friends with Biggs right? Neither of them remember how that happened, assumed it came of growing up togehe i the same small town and such.

And then Biggs met Wedge and the others through school or something, college, and Luke came out to visit one summer. Had just finished fixing up his dad’s old bike and wanted to show Biggs, you know?

Wedge and the others impressed because Luke’s dad had good taste in bikes, and hey want to come up in a couple of weeks for this road trip they do?

Luke kind of figures it’s them being polite because he’s Bigg’s friend from back home, little brother kind of deal, but he really wants to go on the ride they tell him about.

Problem is, when he goes out to see them a few weeks later Biggs is in an accident, small one, not seriously hurt or anything, but his bike is going to be out of commission for a while and Biggs needs to take it easy until he heals up.

Luke was like, oh, man, that sucks, but at least Biggs is going to be okay, you know? Figures he and Biggs will hang out, maybe work on his bike while the others go on the road trip?

But Biggs and the others are like, no, dummy, they want you on the ride, go have fun!

Be young and stupid and do something that will convince the future love of your life that you killed a man and are on the run from the law!!1!

“...Something tells me that’s not what they said to you,” Din says.

Luke shrugs admits he’s paraphrasing things, but that’s the general drift.

Anyway, he gets to be friends with Wedge and the others, enough that they are like, 100% on board that one time they found out someone was to kill Luke and his family and the thing where his dad - and conequently Luke’s family - has been tangled up in a decades old conspiracy that involves world leaders and the safety of the entire world, and really.

“I met them a few months before all that happened,” Luke says, like he still doesn’t get why his friends would want to get involved, help him. “but we couldn’t have done it without them.”

Din still doesn’t know the whole story about that, whatever affected Luke so strongly he literally wandered the country for a while, a year, maybe more, it’s hard to tell, before he went to visit an old family friend in Obi-Wan and finally settled somewhere longer than a few weeks for the first time in years.

But he can wait until Luke tells him, if he ever does. Din doesn’t care about knowing the details, just enough to look after Luke when the idiot won’t do it for himself.

And it’s why Din lets Wedge and the others posture, let them threaten him and all that because they’re doing it to look out for Luke even now, know he’s the kind of idiot who won’t bother for himself.

He’s a little concerned at the way they’re obviously out to recruit his kid into their gang, which.

The bodies? But also Grogu would be safe with them, and that’s like. Strangely reassuring.

Still, his kid is years away from getting his license so he has some time to convince him he doesn’t want to be in a biker gang.

So of course, of course Wedge and the others have to make it harder for Din to do that when the next time Grogu’s ready to move up a bike size they send him a present.

Claim it’s to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases they missed before getting to meet Grogu in person.

It’s  bike, yes. One that will grow with Grogu through the next several growth spurts, but?

It’s painted in the gang’s colors, has starbirds on it. Little goggles to replace the ones Wedge gave him the first time they came to visit, the strap worn through from Grogu handling them so much. A new helmet with the starbirds, and a tally mark for the race he won with Wedge, Luke explains, grin in his voice and apologetic shrug for Din because his friends, okay. Kind of impossible.

So far there’s just the one, but there’s space for more and Din is like. *SIGH* at the thought of his kid with a biker gang, even if it’s Luke’s old biker gang and they’re all idiots, just.

*SIGH*

[saturnznct]

attack on titan!au, mark lee x reader

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: head injury, physical fighting (for training purposes), descriptions of death, mention of knives and cult

note: will be working through this series slowly! hope u all like this xx

nct dream aot au masterlist

The first time you laid eyes on Mark Lee was in that iconic dusty courtyard. Bearing in mind he was being ripped into by Commander Shadis.

‘And what about you, Lee?’

A twelve year old Mark Lee’s eyes shone with tears of fear. He was clearly somewhat sheltered from the horrors of this world; hailing from the town of Jinae, southern Wall Maria alongside fellow cadet Marco Bott. The two of them were the image of innocence, although they barely knew each other, both round-faced and freckly.

Mark had cowered beneath Shadis’ gaze, likely having never been spoken to in such a way, especially not by his loving family. You felt drawn to him. What was he doing here?

That night he barely said much, nibbling on stale bread. You could tell he did not want to eat, but food was scarce, so he kind of had to. He listened intently to the words of Eren Yaeger who spoke about his experiences with the Colossal Titan on that infamous day two years ago.

Days faded into weeks. You passed your own balance test with flying colours, as did Mark, who’s face would become screwed up whenever his feet left the ground.

While you formed a casual alliance with Sasha, promising to go easy on each other during combat training, Mark swapped anecdotes with Marco and sharpened his wooden knife with Reiner.

One day Commander Shadis had demanded you pair up with Mikasa (likely because he was sick of you and Sasha throwing fake punches) and you were so distracted by Mark that she easily flipped you over, an ‘oof’ escaping your mouth as you hit the ground. When your back makes contact with the sand, your head snaps back, hitting the ground hard.

‘Wait, I didn’t mean that,’ Mikasa mumbles, seemingly unsure as to what to do.

Everything goes pitch black for a split second. When your eyes do open, your head is spinning, black spots dotting the sky above you like stars. You hear Commander Shadis yelling for the first-aid specialist cadets.

Admittedly in that moment you had absolutely no clue who was part of that squad. At this point in your training years, you were especially focused on yourself, working on your own skills and specialities. But when Mark Lee comes barrelling across the training yard your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

‘Are you alright?’ He asks you as soon as he kneels down beside you, ‘can you see?’

Mark sounds far more concerned and more urgent than you feel, which you find somewhat charming, but your head is still spinning.

‘Mark, remember the procedures,’ Thomas Wagner seems to be somewhat supervising him.

‘Oh, uh,’ Mark holds up three fingers and waves them around as if to confuse you a little, ‘how many fingers am I holding up?’

He’s peering over you, almost like a pet trying to get your attention. You feel your chest swell at how cute he looks.

You blink, trying to decide whether or not you should play up your injury for his attention or get up so you can continue training.

‘Three,’ you mutter, deciding that returning to combat training was worth more than gaining the sympathy of a cute boy.

Mark and Thomas exchange a look.

‘Do you think you can sit up?’ Mark asks, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, ‘I’ll try…’

You prepare yourself to have to lift yourself off the dirty ground, but you jump about a mile in the air when he holds the back of your head in his hand, slowly supporting your head as you sat up.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N,’ Mikasa apologises quietly.

‘It’s okay,’ you croak, ‘it’s my fault.’

‘Come on Y/N, we’ll have to take you back to your dorm room to lay down,’ Thomas has a sharp tone of authority, so you don’t even try to argue.

‘Dude, she can’t even stand,’ Mark points out.

‘How about you carry her then,’ Thomas huffs, turning on his heel to deal with some other cadet’s grazed arm.

‘I-I-Is that okay?’ Mark stutters, hand still on the small of your back as he held you up.

You nod groggily, ‘it’s okay.’

And so he scoops you up in his arms, and you automatically cling onto his neck. Mark is incredibly gentle, hand under your leg splayed out as to not touch your thigh.

You’re sleepy at this point, so the walk back to your dorm house is slow.

Mark tilts you to the side to twist the doorknob, the door loudly creaking open.

‘Which bunk is yours?’

‘Right beside the window,’ you mumble, ‘bottom bunk.’

He walks you over slowly, almost as though you were a baby in his arms, before gently lowering you down into your bed.

‘Are you comfortable?’

You nod, shifting around under the duvet to try and get comfortable.

‘Good. I’ll send one of the girls in occasionally to check on you,’ he says, ‘I hope you feel better soon.’

And then he shuffles out, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible.

‘How’s your head?’

‘Huh?’

The cafeteria is relatively empty, it being late than the normal scheduled eating time. You had finished up with your cleaning duties a bit later than usual, hence why you were eating bread at nearly 10pm.

You had been interrupted by a certain Jinae resident.

‘Your head… have you been feeling better? I’ve been worried.’

‘You have?’ Your heart nearly skips a beat at the thought of him worrying about you, hoping that you’re alright, ‘I’m just fine Mark, all thanks to you.’

You don’t miss the way a pink blush creeps up his neck, and he avoids your gaze.

‘It’s what I’m trained to do,’ he brushes it off, ‘what kind of medic would I be if I couldn’t help?’

‘You’re incredibly selfless.’

‘Not really,’ Mark shrugs, ‘it’s the right thing to do.’

’Still selfless.’

He looks up at you then, trying to read your emotions.

‘I just mean that, in this world, people are selfish. People always care more about saving themselves than saving others. So you’re different, in that way.’

‘You think people care more about themselves than others?’

‘I-I saw a lot of things during the fall of Maria.. When my town was under attack, the titans had destroyed some of the houses, and there were people inside, who couldn’t get out. And they were shouting- screaming for someone to help them move the wood or the rubble but nobody listened. I told my dad to help them, obviously I couldn’t myself because I was only nine, but he didn’t. He told me that we had to leave ourselves, that we were responsible for ourselves. Now I know that those people died. They died because my father refused to help, because I was too weak. That’s most of the reason why I’m here, to help people if that were to happen again.’

‘I think your dad just cared about his family.’

‘In the refugee camps, I saw people steal food from other families, have knife fights over money and blankets. We were all in the same position, displaced and traumatised. I don’t know why people were so unwilling to help each other.’

‘Where are your family now?’ Mark asks innocently enough, but you feel your heart sink a bit.

‘My dad was sent out on the recapture mission, you know, when they tried to retake Wall Maria. He died.’

‘Oh I’m-‘ Mark looks at you with wide eyes, as if he had no idea how to react.

‘I don’t really feel any way about it,’ you admit, interrupting him, ‘he was comfortable letting those people trapped in the houses die terrified. I’m sure he had enough time to prepare himself for death before he left, and as he rode his horse out of Trost. I knew he was going to die when he said goodbye to me, and I was quite numb to it then too. My mother left me and my siblings alone in that camp and went to work in the interior to actually make money. I imagine she’s a prostitute or something. I don’t know. I don’t hear from her.’

‘Does she know you’re here?’

‘Maybe. My siblings may have told her. Anyway. Enough about me, what about you?’

‘My older brother is in the Military Police,’ Mark explains, ’the grand jewel of our family… I think my parents want me to follow in his footsteps. But I have no idea what I want to do yet.’

‘Do you think you’ll get in the top ten?’

‘Probably not. I’m not as fit or strong as Reiner, or even Annie. And I don’t have Armin’s brains or intellect. I’m kind of just in the middle.’

‘You have Eren’s will,’ you point out, ‘you care about helping people.’

‘You’re really comparing me to Eren?’ Mark chuckles.

‘I’m not saying you’re arrogant, just that you have the passion.’

‘I know. I just don’t think I have the passion for being a member of the Military Police. I don’t think they really help people as much as I want to.’

‘They’re very culty,’ you grimace, ‘so weird.’

Mark chuckles, ‘you’re not wrong. Every time I see my brother he’s walking around the interior with a huge gun, probably bullying some random kids.’

‘Do you know what regiment you want to go into?’ You ask.

‘I’m still weighing my options,’ he shrugs, ‘the Garrison always seemed like the easy route, just patrolling the streets and sitting around all day. But now they’re basically partners with the Survey Corps. If the walls get broken, they have to fight alongside each other. Either way, I’m fighting titans. It’s mainly just a decision of how often I want to.’

’Wall Rose hasn’t fallen,’ you point out, ‘it’s been nearly three years.’

‘As time goes on, it gets more likely,’ he remarks darkly, eyes fixed on the table, ‘by the sounds of it, this colossal titan seems intelligent. Who knows when it will decide to strike next. Our lecturer said that titan behaviour is incredibly unpredictable.’

‘Don’t you think we’ll be prepared enough to fight by then?’

‘It’s the Royal Government that comes up with the evacuation and fighting strategies. They care more about the preservation of the interior than those in the outer walls. They probably half-arsed the whole plan. As for our training, remember what Commander Shadis said on our first day. Most of us will just be titan feed in the end.’

‘You’re strong though, Mark,’ you state gently, as if he were sobbing and you were trying to console him.

‘You think so?’

‘I know you are. I watch you fight for future every single day.’

Mark stays silent, mulling over your words.

‘You really inspire me to try harder myself. And you’ll be an incredible soldier.’

When Mark continues to be silent, your eyes dart around the room. You catch the gaze of Sasha, who is stuffing her face with the tiny amount of leftovers.

She wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly, before getting up and walking out of the cafeteria.

‘Nice one Y/N!’ Mark yells as you land a kick on Sasha’s shin, prompting her to fall to the floor clutching her leg.

‘Ow, Y/N!’ She shrieks, ‘I thought you said you would go easy on me!’

‘No titan will go easy on you, Braus,’ you hear Annie comment flatly.

Sasha huffs while Mark comes up behind you, gently turning you around by your elbow and giving you a high ten.

‘You’ve gotten so much better recently,’ Mark compliments, ‘I’m so proud of you!’

’Thanks Mark,’ you grin, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat by his words.

‘Yeah, nice going,’ Sasha grumbles, wiping down her now dusty thighs and shins, before turning on her heel and walking off to find Connie.

‘I still feel as though my fighting skills are a bit lacking to be honest,’ he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘Really? Who have you been practicing with?’

‘…Armin.’

‘Ah.’

‘Not to say that he’s weak or anything- he’s definitely not. There’s just a certain level you can get to where you just can’t improve anymore.’

No, I know what you mean,’ you try to empathise.

‘Maybe we can practice together? I-I mean, your usual partner is kind of… limping away, and I just think that you’re really great at this kind of stuff-‘

‘Mark,’ you giggle, reaching out and touching his shoulder, ‘it’s okay. We can fight. But just know, I’ll win.’

You take a few steps back as he laughs nervously. You drop your smile for a much more intimidating glare, raising your arms up.

‘Ready, Lee?’

Mark nods, awkwardly holding his own arms up to mirror your own.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds before either one of you strikes. You lunge forwards at him, swinging your right arm around his neck, to trap him in a headlock. He splutters in your ear, flailing his own limbs around in an attempt to wriggle out of your grip, but fails to do so when you throw out your leg and clip the side of his ankle with your foot, sending both of you to the ground.

He lands first, back impacting against the ground with a thud and a grunt from Mark.

You had imagined that he would let you go as he tumbled to the ground, but he doesn’t, clinging onto your arms and bringing you down with him.

A split second later, you’re also making contact with something, but not the ground. Your abdomens clash together, causing you to make an automatic ‘oof’ sound.

It takes you a while to adjust to the situation. You’re face to face, legs tangled together. There’s orange dust in Mark’s hair, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes squinting while trying to get used to the sun, cheeks and nose red with the heat, lips-

There’s a few moments of silence, the two of you studying each others faces.

‘Ar-are you ok?’ You stammer, and for a few seconds he does not respond, still just staring at you.

‘Oh! I’ll get off,’ you shake your head, unraveling your twisted legs and clambering off of him, much to Mark’s silent disappointment.

‘Uh, you did good!’ You murmur, ‘just, um, try not to be caught off guard, next time.’

When you turn to walk away, you don’t fail to notice the way Krista and Mina are sitting on the steps of the watchtower, whispering frantically to each other.

You don’t see Mark for a few days after that. Training becomes infinitely more rigorous, since you were split into four groups and sent to different parts of the forest for field training.

You had spent several days trekking through the rain and snow with your backpack on, and afterwards spending a few days recuperating.

Mark was in a different group than you, hence why you did not see him. It feels weird that he’s not there, like there’s a part of you missing, but overall you somewhat enjoy your few days away.

It also gives you the perfect opportunity to completely forget about your weird moment during your fight, and focus on building relationships with other cadets.

‘You don’t think Marco is cute?’ Mina exclaims with wide eyes.

‘No, I mean he’s ok-‘

‘Just okay?’ Hannah Diamant replies, absolutely stunned at your indifference.

‘She only says so because she has her eyes on Lee,’ Sasha teases, sticking her tongue out when you turn to glare at her.

‘Do not!’ You argue.

‘Do too!’ Sasha is in fits of giggles, ‘and he clearly likes you too.’

‘I doubt it,’ you mumble, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed.

’Nah, he definitely likes you,’ Mina chimes in.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain blonde had been paying a bit of extra attention to your conversation.

Hence why you were here now, violently stabbing at your dinner with a fork, glaring holes into Krista Lenz’s back while she whispered to Mark Lee.

‘I thought she was going out with that Ymir girl?’ You don’t have a clue who’s speaking to you. Your brain is swimming with anger, so fuzzy you can hardly think straight.

When Krista goes to whisper in Mark’s ear again, she places a hand on his shoulder, after which you’re plotting ways in which you could cut her fingers off.

’I wouldn’t worry,’ Sasha shrugs, ‘we know, and I mean we all know he’s in love with you.’

‘Even if you’re right, which you are not, I’m not her.’

‘Don’t be so worried you idiot,’ Mina half snaps half chuckles, ‘you’re gorgeous. And a total catch, obviously. Mark Lee would be dumb to not want you.’

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

‘What the actual fuck,’ you mutter, sitting straight up in your bottom bunk bed, coming centimetres from smacking your head.

You whip your head in the direction of the source of the noise.

And there he stands, Mark Lee, in the purple night at your window.

‘What the hell?’ You mouth.

He beckons, asking you to come outside.

You give him an incredulous look, trying to be as quiet as physically possible while getting out of bed and putting on your jacket and boots.

‘What sort of time do you call this?’ You exclaim, exasperated.

‘The best time to go to the lake.’

You can’t help but notice the smirk on his face as he turns on his heel, walking down the gravel path.

You quickly look around for possible bystanders, before following him.

His lantern lights the way as you walk down the hill in a comfortable silence, arms swinging at every bump and skip in your step.

The lake is glittering at this time of night, especially because of how high and bright the moon is in the sky.

‘I like to sit and have picnics in the moon rather than the sun. The food doesn’t melt and I don’t get sunburned.’

‘We’re having a picnic?’ You practically squeak, eyes widening to basically the same size as the moon above.

‘Well, uh, no, we are in a food shortage,’ Mark stammers, ‘but I did swipe some bread from Armin. Well I mean, he gave it to me, said he would take one for the team or whatever…’

’Thank you Mark,’ you interrupt him, grinning uncontrollably, ‘this is really sweet.’

‘But if it’s any constellation, I would’ve loved to have made you a picnic. When they take back the wall I promise I’ll make up a nice spread of food.’

‘Where’s all this come from, Mark?’ You wonder aloud.

‘I’ve just had a realisation recently,’ he admits, gulping.

‘What is it?’

‘I really like you, Y/N,’ he confesses, taking both of your hands in his and rubbing them with his thumbs, ‘and I know that you probably don’t feel the same, and that we definitely have much bigger things to focus on, but-‘

You cut him off by practically launching yourself at him, kissing him.

For a moment he is stiff as a board underneath you with his surprise, before relaxing and reciprocating your kiss.

For a while you sit there, under the watchful eye of the moon, eventually peeling away from each other when you become breathless.

‘I like you too, Mark. Being with you takes me away from this horrible reality. And I don’t know what the future will be like, but I know that I want you in it.’

‘I feel exactly the same way,’ he whispers, still holding your hands.

‘We have to pick our regiments really soon. I think that I might join the survey corps,’ you say, staring out into the lake.

‘I’ll go wherever you go,’ Mark murmurs, rubbing your cheek with his hand, which you lean into.

You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your head resting on his shoulder, Mark occasionally turning his head to kiss your hair.

‘What made you decide to tell me this now?’ You ask.

‘Well, let’s just say I got some encouragement from Krista and Sasha.’

’I should’ve known,’ you chuckle, ‘I’ll get them back later.’

Mark laughs, perking up slightly as though he had remembered something.

‘Ready to crack open the bread, baby?’

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@hiqhkey​ @eyyyyyyyow

[babysizedfics]

Virgil moves and talks so quietly that no one hears him (and he hates it)

virgil is naturaly very gentle in pretty much everything he does. he moves so quietly around the house because he wears socks and always walks on his tiptoes (which is an autistic trait) and he also speaks so softly hardly above a whisper unless he's laughing or yelling that he always scares people who didnt know he was right behind them.

and it sort of upsets vee. not so much that he moves silently but doesnt like that he accidentally scares people and he really doesnt like that people can't hear him when he speaks - when he was first created as a four year old he was completely mute and it took at least a year for him to finally learn to speak at five years old and even then he was still selectively mute and only semi verbal otherwise.

so he's had to deal with not being able to communicate his needs effectively a lot. he still goes mute sometimes if he is overwhelmed and when he is regressed he is semi verbal. so he feels sensitive about the fact that even when he finally CAN communicate with words most of the time, he feels like he can't do it right because he cant force himself to speak loud enough.

LOGAN

like one morning logan will be waiting for the coffee machine to fill his mug and virgil will come into the kitchen and say 'good morning.' when logan doesnt respond virgil gets nervous that maybe he did something wrong and his mama is angry with him

so he doesnt try to speak again just in case it would annoy logan and he moves around silently on his toes getting breakfast

it isnt until logan hears the fridge door open and close that he looks back and his eyes fall on vee. virgil freezes a little but logan smiles softly at him. 'good morning virgil. when did you get here?'

'uh a couple minutes ago'

'oh my apologies, i didnt hear you come in' then logan turns back to his coffee and picks up his mug.

'i said good morning' vee whispers, worried that it would sound like complaining. but logan doesnt even hear him say it so vee gives up on talking and just sits next to logan for breakfast in comfortable silence (thats underlaid by shame on his part)

PATTON AND ROMAN STORIES ARE BELOW THE CUT BC THIS GOT LONG

PATTON

patton will be doing the dishes and humming and virgil will tiptoe in and say 'hi dad' but patton doesnt hear it over the running water and keeps washing up. virgil fidgets a bit on the spot, anxious that it feels like he's eavesdropping on patton even though he isn't trying to at all

he tries a couple more times to say hi to his dad when theres less noise coming from the plates in the sink but still theres no response. so he tries to speak louder 'um dad, im behind you'

and for him it was louder than usual but for other people its more like a slightly quiet soft voice... so patton doesnt hear him still, even when he turns off the water and dries his hands.

virgils heart hammers in his chest because patton is gonna turn around and think virgil was spying on him even though virgil tried to speak to him a few times by this point. 'please dont jump' virgil whispers desperately, knowing that he's essentially talking to himself now

and of course when patton finally turns around he does jump and he yelps loudly at seeing virgil and even though virgil expected it it startles him and he flinches and his eyes immediately water (he gets really annoyed by how easily he cries sometimes)

patton sees it and quickly calms down and goes over to pull him into a hug 'oh im sorry honey, i didnt hear you come in. did i scare you?'

virgil tries to breath evenly to stop his chest from shaking when he speaks. 'i - um i tried to talk to you... a few times' virgil mumbles into his shoulder

and patton smiles a little because he's kind of soft for how gentle virgil is all over including his voice and he apologises again and kisses virgils head and they move on.

it helps virgil not feel so bad about it when it happens with pstton because he always holds him and kisses his head in apology, plus patton finds his quiet voice endearing and at least thats a positive because virgil gets fawned over by his dad a bit

ROMAN

but the worst is when it happens with roman.

roman will be in his room singing while he works on some artwork. not even that loud, just singing softly as he concentrates on his paintbrush. virgil was feeling lonely and bored and kind of jittery and anxious for no reason in his room and usually roman lets him watch when he's doing art and it calms virgils anxiety and is fun to just sit there in silence in romans company.

so he knocks on romans door gently and peeks his head in. roman is faced away from him at his easel on the other side of the room still singing under his breath a little. virgil tiptoes into the room and calls 'roman? can i watch?'

theres no response so virgil takes a deep breath and tries to speak out 'ro? is it ok if i come in?' and he thought it was loud but clearly not because roman isnt even singing at full volume and he still doesnt react to him at all.

virgil actually feels that familiar anxious swirling of dread in his tummy now. he hates not being heard when he does want to speak and he hates that it always shocks someone and that they must think he's sneaking around on purpose.

he starts clawing and pulling at the hem of his skirt and tiptoes closer, only a few feet behind roman now. he tugs his sweater sleeves down and bites his lip. roman still doesnt notice him. virgil takes a shaky breath 'roman, please' and it was actually quieter because hes so nervous now of what will happen when roman hears him and sees he has come in without permission... he hates this.

roman still doesnt show any sign of knowing virgil is there... so virgil tentatively reaches up - his hand shaking - to poke romans shoulder with one finger. 'ro?' he whispers, hating that his voice trembles

roman screams and immediately jumps and spins around. 'dear f*cking zeus! Virgil what the f*ck!' he yells, eyes wide and almost angry

and virgil can't help it. the yelling shocked him so much and roman is so much bigger and towering over him and he looks angry and now vee is shaking and his vision is blurry with tears.

roman instantly backs down, the shock on his face melting to sympathy. 'ah sh*t, i'm sorry vee...' and he puts his palette and brush down and gently places his hands on virgils arms in an attempt to comfort him 'i didnt mean to yell, im sorry.' he says gently, rubbing his hands over virgils arms 'why didnt you tell me you were here, titch?'

'i d-did!' virgil cries, his voice thick with tears 'i tri-ied to - to talk and you didn't h-h--' he cuts himself off with a strangled cry. he's just as shocked as roman by how hard he's crying

roman feels awful and immediately pulls vee into a tight hug 'no no its okay vee, shh. im really sorry i didnt hear you'

vee just sniffles into romans chest and wraps his fingers in romans sweatshirt tightly. a cry comes out thats more like a little squeak and without realising it his thumb slips into his mouth

roman pulls back from the hug to see his little brother sucking his thumb. sometimes virgil sucks his thumb as an adult for comfort so he has to check 'vee, are you feeling tiny?'

vee doesnt really understand the question and tugs at romans sweatshirt and whines, looking up at him with wet pleading eyes

and roman feels his heart break a little. he feels so guilty that he apparently scared virgil into his regression.

'okay baby, here we go' he leans down to wrap his arms around virgils back and under his thighs and hoists virgil onto his hip. then he sighs 'let's go find your papa to change you'

'bipa?' vee squeaks through his remaining tears. he sniffles again and roman feels guilt wash over him again

'yeah, clever baby, papa's gonna get you a diaper' he whispers and wipes his thumb under vees eye to catch another falling tear

vee whimpers quietly and buries his face on romans shoulder so roman takes it as a prompt to start moving and carrying virgil out of his room to find patton

roman really would have liked for adult virgil to watch him paint but he thinks its all his fault for yelling that vee regressed from fear. so he decides painting can wait, he wants to make it up to his brother with lots of cuddes and playing games to make the baby giggle for the rest of the day

[1dsource]

This list consists almost entirely of recent fics, so please show them some extra love and leave a kudos, and even a comment if you have the time. It’s important we also give the newer, unknown authors a chance so they keep having motivation to write more amazing stories for us all to read <3

loving you's a bloodsport by @rosesau l 106K l Royalty AU l Soulmates

harry is a bratty prince, louis is a guard who works in his palace, and niall is the only who's got his life in control.

as someone once said: this is not a love story, but love is in it. that is, love is just outside it, looking for a way to break in.

Fearless by @suspendrs I 97K I Childhood Friends I Famous/Not Famous

“You’re my best friend, Louis,” Harry says, barely above a whisper. Even if he was yelling, Louis wouldn’t be able to believe his ears. “And I know it’s been a while, but you’re still the person I consider my best friend,” Harry says.

Louis blinks, and then blinks again. “I honestly cannot say the same, Harry,” he says.

Or, Harry left home without a word after high school, and a lot can change in ten years.

Kill Me/ Heal Me @millionlittletings I 92K I Royalty I Dystopia

The kingdom of Scotland hasn't been in peace for decades now. In the heart of the country lies the rivalries, hate, and struggle of power. Amidst the chaos, five young men discover the meaning of life, friendship, love, hate, and heartbreak through their journey. Louis, who is struggling to find a place where he belongs. Niall, who will protect what belongs to him with his life. Zayn, who is learning to navigate through life. Liam, who knows when to use his heart and when to use the brain. Harry, who is set to kill anyone who will come into his way of finding the truth about his mother. From dealing with their personal issues to finding out the real culprit who changed the course of their lives, these five men are set to uncover the deepest and the darkest secrets of the kingdom.

adjudication @bottomlinsons I 75K I Royalty I Arranged Marriage

Harry's been engaged to Princess Charlotte of Ryde for as long as he can remember. He's come to know her, to love her, through the letters she's sent him over the past three years.

But when the wedding finally arrives, Harry quickly learns that nothing is as it seems. With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn't seem inclined to make things easy.

The Devil In My Brain by larryshares I 74K I Devil Harry

“Jesus Christ!” Louis yells as he jumps back in reaction to Harry once again popping up out of nowhere.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

“Quite the opposite.” He jokes, holding out one of the drinks for Louis to take. A freshly sizzling vodka Red Bull; his favorite.

Louis’s initial reaction is the thought you remembered.

His rational brain says, “No thanks.”

“Louis.” Harry says it like a concerned parent, the tone of it matching the way his mum used to say Boo Bear, you have to eat your vegetables to grow up big and strong, and that ignites something feral within him.

“Satan.” He counters, same tone coupled with a glare and a pair of arms crossed over his chest.

-

Louis used to be good friends with Harry, until he woke up alone and immortal with no one to blame but The Devil himself.

Under your skin, Over the moon by @indiekissy I 35K I Royalty

If there was one thing Harry didn’t expect the day before his uni graduation, it was for his long lost grandmother to show up and tell him he’s actually a prince thats next in line to rule Genovia. He also didn’t expect to fall for his royal advisor, who happens to hate his guts. A Princess Diaries AU.

robbers and cowards @adoredontour I 33K I Enemies with Benefits

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that you’re enjoying yourself.”

The familiar voice immediately gets Louis’ blood boiling, shoulders tensing as he calmly spins around, trying not to draw any suspicion to the pair.

“You don’t know me at all,” Louis spits, managing to maintain the polite smile he’s been wearing all evening. “You’re just some asshole who always ruins my nights.”

“If I keep ruining your nights, why do you keep going home with me?” Harry asks, taking a sip from his own wine glass.

“I don’t go home with you by any choice of my own,” Louis says. “I think you’re annoying and I have no idea how I keep ending up in your bed.”

“You end up in my bed because you knock on my apartment door at two in the morning.”

Louis wants to punch the smirk right off of his face. “Maybe you should move,” is what he says instead.

or a modern day robin hood au where louis and harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more

Strong Enough by @jacaranda-bloom I 20K I Exes to Lovers

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

solid as a stone (when everything is gone) by @onlyforthebravee I 20K I ABO

“Why’d you take me with you?”

Louis startles at the question, the car almost swerving off the road in the process. He holds his breath as he waits for the twins to wake up and start wailing, but they don’t. They keep sleeping on peacefully, covered in the family blanket.

Harry’s looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Louis takes a minute, mulling it over. He answers quietly. “I hate to say it, but as much as we hate each other, I can’t bear to leave you alone to deal with this whole thing all by yourself.” and I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you died, he adds in his mind.

or, it's the zombie apocalypse and Louis is stuck with Harry, with whom he shares a complicated relationship.

once bitten and twice shy by @pinkcords I 19K I Christmas Fic

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

Equals by onlythebravekat I 12K I 1970′s AU

Louis and his family work for the Styles and live on their property. Louis has dreams of traveling the world and never having to associate with Harry in any way.

The Boxer by heyidkyay I 4K I Uni AU

At the age of twelve Harry’s life is turned upside down. After a traumatic experience, he leaves school and finds comfort in boxing. Six years later and Harry finds himself facing some of his former demons.

Again, if you read, please remember to leave kudos and/or a comment so we keep motivating our lovely, talented writers and make them feel valued

[hale-13]

Detached

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 25 Prompt - Isolation

Truth is, Peter didn’t do the best alone. He was an extrovert at heart and probably had some repressed abandonment issues he’d rather not think about right now but this was fine. He was fine.

Words: 3213, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Tony Stark

TW: Depression, Delirium, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Descent into Madness

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Peter groaned, squinting his eyes shut further instead of trying to open them. His head was throbbing and his thoughts were sluggish and dizzy. He could tell he was lying down but everything seemed to be spinning around him making him feel nauseous – he swallowed down the bile attempting to rise in his throat and took deep breaths through his nose. Mind over matter and all that. Once he felt a little more steady, Peter took stock.

The floor he was lying on was hard and cold and he was positioned awkwardly with his arms folded under him, tingles running through them painfully from the compression of veins and arteries. Carefully, Peter cracked his eyes open. The room he was in was dark and the air had the damp quality of somewhere underground and Peter blinked his eyes shut again. Yeah he had no idea where he was or how he got here.

With effort, he rolled over to lie flat on his back but made no attempt to try and sit up yet. The last thing he remembered was getting up for school. It was Friday and he was looking forward to going to Ned’s after school and spending the weekend having movie marathons and building the newest Star Wars Lego kit Ned had picked up with his birthday money. He remembered getting ready to leave, pulling his Spider-Man suit from his bag and hiding it in his closet (he had promised to take a break since he had been overdoing just a little over the last few weeks), he thumbed past a text from Mr. Stark – he didn’t want to read anything from him right now, fighting stressed him out and he didn’t want to deal with it…

He left his apartment. He was going to walk to school instead of taking the subway because it was hot out and he was feeling a little sensitive today and he wasn’t sure he could handle the smell. His Spidey sense had been tingling since he had gotten up that morning but it had been doing that off and on for days since his fight with…

He was walking to school. Everything was fine.

But now he’s here? How did it happen? Peter’s head throbbed lowly and threateningly as he tried to wrack his memory for the answer so he stopped and tried to make himself relax. He was probably kidnapped right? He had been kidnapped a couple times before and he knew how this worked. Once his assailants realized he was awake and semi-aware they would come in to highlight their terms, probably rough him up a bit and then Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes would track him down and break him out.

But… would Mr. Stark really come to get him now? After everything.

‘Don’t think about that Peter,’ he told himself. He was already about five seconds from a panic attack and that just wouldn’t do. He needed to keep it together. If his captors thought he was breaking so early things could get so much worse. He was fine. Just some deep breaths.

Peter opened his eyes again. The room was almost too dark to see anything, lit only by a small red emergency light in one corner that left strange shadows and distorted shapes and colors. The room was small – maybe ten feet by ten feet if he was lucky – and mostly empty. There were three large cases with water bottles and a few boxes of crackers in one corner and a metal toilet was in the other. A haphazard pile of ratty looking blankets that smelled like mildew were a few feet away from Peter.

This was new. He was almost never provided water or food in the few times he had been taken before, not that he was gone long enough to need anything.

Something felt off.

Using every bit of strength he had left, Peter levered himself up and leaned heavily against the wall while his vision span in circles and nausea crept back up his throat. Whatever he had been dosed with must have been pretty potent to leave him feeling like this. So plans. He would wait to see what the people who took him wanted. He would let his metabolism work off the drugs. Maybe he would crawl over and grab a bottle of water once he felt a little more steady and hope that they hadn’t been tampered with.

It was all a waiting game.

————————————————

Okay so this was weird.

Peter took another sip of his - up tampered thank god – water and swirled it around in his mouth. It had easily been at least a few hours since he had woken up and no one had come through the solid metal door that Perter had yet been able to break through. Someone always came in to monologue.

And it just proved that whoever took him knew he was Spider-Man since he wasn’t able to break out.

“This is fine,” Peter said out loud just to hear something. “They’re just working on a longer timeline is all.”

Truth is, Peter didn’t do the best alone. He was an extrovert at heart and probably had some repressed abandonment issues he’d rather not think about right now but this was fine. He was fine.

More time passed.

And more time.

Pulling one of the blankets around his shoulders and wedging himself into a corner Peter curled tightly around his legs. He was tired and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the drugs or if it had been that long he had been trapped here. Regardless he figured he may as well take a nap. Hopefully it would encourage some asshole into bursting into the room to wake him up and, if it didn’t, maybe sleeping would help clear the remaining fog from Peter’s head.

His sleep was anything but easy though. He woke up continuously as if startled and it took forever to relax enough again to doze. He had nightmares; little nebulous things that made little sense and faded the second he woke up but left his respiratory rate elevated and his heart thudding in his chest. It took time but he eventually was tired enough to sleep deep enough not to dream.

When he woke up the room was completely unchanged and Peter gulped. His mind was spiraling and taking him to dark places and it wasn’t the time to go there yet. He hadn’t even been here for that long he didn’t think. Maybe not even a full day. It wasn’t time to freak out yet.

Peter distracts himself by grabbing another water bottle and a pack of the peanut butter crackers. He eats three of them and saves the rest of the pack for later. Washes it down with a few sips of water and tries to ignore the aching and cramping in his stomach as it growls. Something is telling him to ration his food and water. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be stuck here after all but it can’t be that much longer right? Mr. Stark will come to get him. He wouldn’t leave him here.

The ‘day’ passes slowly. Peter paces the full length of the room, he searches every nook and cranny for cameras or microphones. He tries to take apart the emergency light but its completely sealed and he doesn’t want to tamper with it and potentially leave himself in complete darkness. He counts his water bottles (one hundred forty-eight since he already drank two) and his crackers (forty-nine and a half packs) and organizes and reorganizes them. He paces some more and practices his breathing exercises.

He falls into an uneasy sleep.

“Okay time to come up with a plan,” Peter tells himself the next day. “A feasible plan.”

He comes up with nothing. He likes brainstorming but he’s always needed to write things down to properly organize anything and he has nothing to write with but blood and nothing to write on but the wall. He’s not desperate enough to do that.

Instead he does fifty push up and sit ups. It feels good to do something physical so he jogs around the room for what’s probably a few hours. He stops when he drains a full bottle of water in a second and he can’t do that. He doesn’t know how long he’s here and he has to ration and what if no one comes to get him and he’s stuck here forever and he runs out of food and water a human can only go without water for a few days and…

Peter gasps and collapses to his knees, bowing his face down to rest his forehead on the cool stone floor as the room spins from lack of oxygen and he tries to control his breathing. Four-Seven-Eight. He remembers that from his, very few, therapy appointments after Ben. Four-Seven-Eight. Four-Seven-Eight.

It’s not working.

Peter sobs brokenly and his throat feels like its closing, his vision is spinning and dimming his muscles are weak and-

He wakes up with a gasp and a cough some untold amount of time later. His head hurts from the panic attack and he lets himself cry quietly for a few minutes. He’s alone. He hates being alone.

How long has he been here?

The laugh that bubbles up from his chest is a little unhinged and that just won’t do. Peter needs to lock it down and get his shit together because he can’t just sit here and lose it because that is flat out unacceptable.

So he gets up and walks around the bare room. He does some yoga that he had been learning from Pepper and May and focuses on his breathing since breathing is important in yoga. When he’s done he does some cool down stretches and feels a lot better. More steady. He eats the other three crackers in the pack he opened up and drinks some water. He’s tired so he curls back up in the corner with his blanket and pillows his head on his arm.

He wakes up and the room is unchanged.

Again.

How long has he been here?

Peter’s stomach feels like its actually eating itself so he eats a couple crackers and indulges in half a bottle of water. It does nothing to make him more full but he pretends it does. He feels a little weak and out of it this ‘morning’ and he stumbles as he walks laps around the room. He hasn’t gone this long without a decent meal since he was bitten and its freaking him out a little.

The yoga worked yesterday. He’s going to do more of that he thinks.

His limbs are shakier than yesterday and he gets out of breath on some of the more advanced poses so he slows down and really takes the time to work through each new position and hold it before slowly transitioning to the next. He’s exhausted when he finishes and can barely do a short cool down due to his painful muscles so he just lies flat on his back for a while and breathes through it.

His head itches from the sweat he’s worked up and when he scratches at his scalp his fingernails come away with little balls of dead skin and blood under them and he crinkles his nose. He hasn’t gone this long without a proper shower in… a long time and he hates it. He wants to be clean. His hair is greasy and flat and flopping into his face.

He could use some of the water. He doesn’t have soap and its not the same as a shower but…

No. He needs to save the water. He can handle being dirty for a few more days. A week tops. He’ll be out of here soon. Maybe he should take a nap to pass the time? He is kinda sleepy from his workout, a nap would be nice.

When he wakes up again he doesn’t bother moving. He’s really tired and its not like he has anywhere to be so what’s the point?

He closes his eyes again.

He’s only eaten two full packs of crackers since he got here so Peter decides to gorge himself and eat a full pack of six and drink a full bottle of water. His throat is dry and his tongue is sticky and tacky in his mouth from dehydration so the food and water are like nectar and ambrosia to him. But…

He had more water right?

Peter counts the bottles and comes up two short. That’s impossible, he’s alone and he didn’t drink two extra bottles so where did they go? His breath is coming out in hasty pumps as he panics and counts again. No! He’s missing three bottles! How is this happening?

Peter stumbles up and goes to the door. Someone has to have come in while he was asleep and taken the water so that means the door was opened. He scrabbles at the edges, tearing his nails to shreds and smearing blood everywhere as he tears at the hinges to try to get it opened. It has to open!

His breath is coming too fast and his lungs are burning and his eyes are burning and he’s choking and falling to the floor and-

He wakes up curled in a ball by the door feeling out of it but more in control. He drags himself back to his pile of water bottles and, very carefully, counts them again.

And once more.

He isn’t missing any after all, he just didn’t count correctly. Peter wants to laugh. Peter wants to cry. He does neither. His muscles are tight and on the verge of cramping so he does some light stretches to try to work everything out. It helps a little but he feels too tired and out of it to do laps around the room or yoga and he’s afraid to meditate so he curls back up in the corner again. He’s hungry but he doesn’t dare eat anymore crackers since he had a full pack already today.

Or was it yesterday?

He decides it doesn’t matter – he can’t eat them right now. What he can do is sleep so he does.

His dream is about May. About sitting in the kitchen and listening to classic rock and pretending to do his homework but really gossiping about his classmates and her about her coworkers while she burns pork chops in the oven. They laugh while they fan the smoke away from the blaring fire alarm and out the open window and pull out a take out menu at random from the drawer. They aren’t picky eaters and they’re curled up on the couch watching Stranger Things with tacos. May jumps and launches her taco toward the ceiling and they spend the rest of the night cleaning avocado off the popcorn ceiling.

He wakes up with silent tears leaking down his face and a feeling of desolation eating up his insides. It feels like his heart is clenching and like his chest is closing in painfully and his stomach doesn’t ache from hunger for once but feels like a tightly clenched back hole instead. Peter doesn’t bother wiping his face, just turns over to face the wall and curls up even tighter. It’s too hard to move.

It’s a few days later that his legs start cramping whenever he moves them too suddenly and he feels like screaming from the resisting burning pain. He isn’t really hungry anymore but he forces down a couple of crackers everyday and tries to drink at least half a bottle of water. He’s losing weight as his metabolism eats at his minimal fat stores before starting on his muscles and he panics again when he notices his stomach is starting to become concave.

How long has he been here?

Peter supposes it makes sense though. Why would Mr. Stark come for him now? After what he did? His mentor may be the very definition of a helicopter parent but he wasn’t strict and if Peter would have just listened to him… but now he’s alone.

Peter sniffs loudly. He’s cried a few times since he’s been here but he hasn’t let himself break down. He’s tried to keep it together but is it really worth it? He’s alone. No one’s coming for him.

He’s going to die here. Alone.

He sobs. He wants to cry but the tears won’t come so all that’s left are painful, hitching breaths and horrible whining sounds. He doesn’t think he even sounds human anymore and maybe he isn’t. He doesn’t feel human.

He doesn’t make the effort to eat or drink that day and the next time he wakes up he’s too weak to even crawl over to the pile of water bottles and crackers. He decides that it’s a good thing. He can feel himself losing it, can feel himself falling apart and at least this way he’ll go quicker. He can’t stand this. He can’t stand being alone. He wants May. He wants Ned and MJ. He wants Mr. Stark. He doesn’t want to die and he really doesn’t want to die alone.

This isn’t fair.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t-

He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. He hadn’t seen May in two days before he was taken due to her schedule and now he’d never see her again. He was the last of her family and he was being selfish and leaving her alone. He’d already taken away he husband and now look at him? He breaks everything he touches.

He’s tired. He’s so tired. Peter lets his eyes close. He’s just going to nap.

“Kiddo? Rhodey he’s not responding he looks… fuck Rhodey clear me a path I’ve got to get him out of here! Peter, its me kid. You’re okay I’m going to take care of everything now so you just relax alright? Rhodes I swear to god if you don’t handle it.”

Peter frowns in his delirium. That voice sounds like Mr. Stark but that’s impossible. Peter’s dead. He was dying. He gave up right?

“I’ve got you buddy you’re going to be just fine,” the voice says again and it sounds a little robotic – just like Mr. Stark does in the Iron Man armor actually. He feels like he’s floating. “You’re aunt and I have been worried sick Petey, you didn’t even send a postcard!” The voice is trying to be humorous but is falling flat. It’s nice though. It’s been a long time since Peter has heard anything but his own thoughts.

“Just a quick little flight Webs,” he’s told, the ground rocking under him. It almost feels like being carried and it warms him just a little. His brain has been sabotaging him at every turn but at least its making his death peaceful.

“No no buddy,” the voice sounds a little frantic but its like listening through a pool of water. “Stay with me Peter, you’re going to be okay just stay with me.”

He hates disappointing the voice but he’s tired.

So tired.

Peter drifts.

[mimirexx]

Breakout

An AU where Jean is a shifter and got caught by Zeke and his men. Beside the torture he was receiving, Pieck visits him and the two start to get closer. They want to escape together - but at what costs?

TW: torture, beating, rape (no explicit rape, not between Jean and Pieck!), blood, violence, angst

Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Chapter one - Chapter two - Chapter three

A few hours passed and the sun was starting to set. Pieck remained on Jean’s lap where she very obviously felt comfortable.

However, when Zeke entered the cell, both of them stood up. Jean made sure to keep Pieck behind him this time as well, just in case Zeke got the idea to lay a hand on her again.

“You two get along pretty well, don’t you?” The blond hummed, taking a few steps closer.

Jean narrowed his eyes. “You’re not dumb, you know you won’t get any information. So what do you want?”

“Hm? Am I not allowed to come here for some chitchat? We are similar, you and me.”

“Hah, don’t make me laugh. I’m not as pathetic as you.”

“We have both leading qualities and a sense of empathy. I can tell just by the way you’re treating Pieck- who’s actually your enemy.”

Jean raised a brow. “Pieck, who was actually your ally. You treat her like trash. That makes us nothing alike.”

“Jean, you should know the feeling of being betrayed by your friends. Reiner, Berthold, Annie, they’ve betrayed you, used you. Annie is crystallized. Reiner escaped and came back here. He shared valuable information with us, that way we were able to capture you.”

Zeke took another step closer to him, looking up into Jean’s eyes. They were burning with fire.

“However, betrayal is unforgivable and needs to be punished. I need to ensure the safety of my people, you know? And make sure nobody else thinks of betrayal. Set an example.” His eyes flicked over at Pieck. “If you would’ve done that with Reiner, we probably wouldn’t have been able to capture you. But Reiner is a slightly different case, he was sent to betray you from the start. That was his job, he never really was on your side. Pieck, on the other hand…”

The ravenette narrowed her eyes slightly.

“...is quite a loss.” Zeke finished his sentence. “It’s a shame but it can’t be helped. Rules are rules.”

“Turning her back to you was the right decision.” Jean pushed him back roughly. “You’re a poor excuse of a human being. One day, we will stomp you down, Zeke.”

There was a glint in Zeke’s eyes, a grin came to his lips. “Ah, is that so? It’s not going to be that easy, though. Floch. You can come now.”

Jean’s gaze darkened as he watched the other enter the cell. He pushed Pieck further behind him by instinct and eyed the two men. He had a very bad feeling about this.

“The hell do you want?” Jean growled.

“As I said, betrayal needs to be punished.” Zeke motioned at Floch. “I’ll leave Pieck to him while we two have a little chat.”

If someone knew of the dirty intentions Floch had, it was Jean. That man was revolting, everything he did was just out of his own enjoyment. And leaving Pieck with someone like that wasn’t something he would do.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” he spat, keeping Pieck close behind himself.

“You do realize you’re in no position to make any threats, right?” Zeke laughed, “you’re chained to a wall.”

“Jean…” Pieck said quietly. “Don’t worry about me. You need to worry about yourself first, that’s more important. I’ll be fine. I’m a woman but I’m also strong.”

“This isn’t about being strong. I know that you are.” He glanced down at her behind him, still keeping an eye on Zeke and Floch. “This is about treating you with respect- which I’m sure none of them will do.”

Floch grinned. “I’ll treat Pieck with much respect, I can assure you.”

Jean clenched his fists and snarled, “I’m going to fucking skin you alive, bastard!”

“Aww, jealous? No worries, I’ll still let you take me up your ass. But, you know, Pieck is just much prettier than you. That means I’ll be able to enjoy it.” Floch licked over his lips in a very perverted manner.

That made Jean even angrier. Why were these people so cruel? How could they do and talk about such things like it’s nothing and call themselves human? Once he got the chance to, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill both of them.

“Shut up before I make you!” Jean snapped.

At that moment, he suddenly felt a blow and stumbled back a little. Zeke had punched him and grabbed a fistful of his hair next to yank him forward. Jean stumbled forward with the force and attempted to pull his head away.

“Don’t touch me, you monkey faced asshole!”

The chains of his cuffs rattled, an indicator that he could not step any further even if he wanted to. Jean was now standing in the middle of the cell, his arms stretched behind his back.

Zeke forced him down to his knees and smashed his head onto the concrete floor. He kept it there by stepping on Jean’s head and shot him a grin.

Now that Jean and Pieck were separated, Floch stepped in and grabbed the young woman by her hair to drag her along.

Pieck hissed in pain and elbowed him hard in the stomach, making Floch groan and let go of her by instinct.

Jean could see her and yanked on his chains. “Run! Run!” He shouted.

Her expression saddened but seeing their situation, Pieck had no choice but to leave. So she ran out at full speed.

Zeke kicked Jean’s head and glared at Floch. “I’m surrounded by idiots! Go get her back already!”

The redhead nodded, then quickly left too.

Jean prayed that Pieck would get help from someone. He prayed that not everyone there was as sick in the head as Zeke and Floch.

“Now back to you.” Zeke cleared his throat and crouched down as he lifted Jean’s head. Jean snarled but before he could say anything, Zeke already slammed his face against the ground.

The blond repeated that, slammed Jean’s face down again and again and again. His nose that had healed not too long ago was broken again and Jean spit out blood and some of his teeth. He coughed, starting to feel dizzy.

“I noticed you and Pieck get along pretty well.” Zeke casually took a seat in front of Jean once he was done slamming his face into the ground and smiled. “How about we make a deal?”

Jean panted, his vision blurry. He tasted blood on his tongue, looking up at Zeke quietly.

“We will leave Pieck alone, no one will lay a single finger on her. I will even let her stay here with you so you can be sure nobody’s making a wrong move on her. She’ll get warm clothes and warm meals. I’ll even carry a bed down here myself where she can sleep on.”

Jean narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “The hell... you want?” He growled.

“The same I’ve wanted since day one.” Zeke adjusted his glasses. “I want to know where your people are hiding and I want to know about your next plans. That’s all.”

“Tsk. And how... how come you think…. I’ll give you an answer n-now?” He muttered. Speaking was hard.

“Because if you give me a satisfying answer, you will save Pieck from what’s awaiting her. You already have experience with Floch’s understanding of punishment, so you should know what he will be doing with her.”

Jean furrowed his brows deeply. It was the first time since he was captured that he felt like being in a dilemma.

Pieck was a good person, she didn’t deserve such things happening to her. She helped him ever since he was brought there and was the only one who cared about his well being even though he was the enemy. She even turned her back to her own people after what she saw them doing to him.

On the other hand, his friends would get in danger if he told Zeke where they were. Not to mention that Jean never thought of sharing any information before, it wasn’t something he would ever do.

But now Pieck was pulled into this and he was torn. He was loyal to his people but that meant letting Pieck get abused and possibly killed. Even if he decided to tell Zeke what he wanted to know, there was absolutely no guarantee that he would keep his word.

Jean honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Got her back.” Someone said and Jean quickly looked up to see Floch and Pieck entering the cell again.

Pieck’s face was swollen, definitely from Floch punching her. It was a sight he didn’t like on her- not because it made her look ugly or anything but because it meant Pieck got hurt.

“Amazing.” Zeke stood up and walked over to the two. This time, he locked the door of the cell before stepping closer to stand by Pieck’s side and looking down at the brunet. “I just made an offer to Jean. I would like to hear your answer now.”

Jean was quiet, his eyes flicking between Zeke, Floch and Pieck several times. He swallowed hard. His hands were shaking, his head spinning. He began feeling so sick. Having to make such a heavy decision was hard. He already made many hard decisions in his life but nothing was that bad.

“Maybe we can help him decide.” Zeke gave Floch a glance and it seemed enough for him to understand.

Floch’s hand came up to grope Pieck’s breast, the other arm wrapping around her waist to keep her by his side. The ravenette tried shoving him back but then Zeke grabbed her cuffs and firmly held them at a distance to her body. That way she couldn’t use her hands or arms to do anything.

Pieck squirmed and let out a string of curses, trying to escape. With two much bigger men holding her like that, however, she stood no chance, no matter how strong she was.

“Let go of me!” She frowned and moaned in pain when Floch groped her particularly hard.

“Once Jean tells me what I want to know, this will stop.” Zeke hummed innocently.

“What?! No, he won’t tell you anything!” She protested.

Floch grinned. “Then we’ll have a lot of fun.” With that, he pushed her down against the ground and pinned her arms above her head with one strong hand. The other hand began pulling Pieck’s undergarments down.

“D-don’t you even dare to touch her!” Jean yanked on the chains again, his eyes glowing. A few lightning bolts stroke near him, the shifter marks on his face forming. In a matter of seconds, his injuries were healed.

“If you transform now, the blow will kill her.” Zeke reminded him, loud enough for Jean to hear.

Jean panted heavily and forced himself to calm down again. No matter how much he hated Zeke, he was right. Pieck wouldn’t survive being this close to a transformation. So Jean inhaled and exhaled a few times and tried to calm his nerves.

“Jean,” Pieck’s voice could be heard. She turned her head to look at him, a look of confidence on her face. “No matter what, don’t tell them anything. I’ll be fine, I promise. Hold on some longer. It takes more than that to get through me.”

Jean looked over at her and saw the determination in her eyes. Although Pieck knew the situation she was in and the consequences, she chose for Jean to still not share any information. His gaze moved to Floch, then to Zeke.

For a moment, he really thought about just telling them what they wanted to get Pieck out of that situation. So Pieck didn’t have to experience such things.

He thought a little more about this situation and realized something: No matter what he chose, there was no way Zeke would keep his word. That wasn’t like him. Zeke would do anything to get what he wanted, so there was no telling he would really leave them alone afterwards. Chances are he wouldn’t.

Jean exhaled deeply, feeling his body relax slightly. Pieck’s words gave him the assurance he needed. “She’s right. I’m not telling you anything.” He stated with confidence.

Zeke looked him up and down for a moment. “If that’s the case, I guess I have no other choice.” He snapped his fingers and Floch continued his previous actions.

Jean continued struggling against the chains, throwing curses and threats at Floch because that was the only thing he was able to do at the moment. It didn’t help, however, and Floch was soon having his way with Pieck. She did try to kick him back and get away from underneath him but it was no use.

The room was filled with Jean’s shouting and Pieck’s discomfort.

When Floch ripped off her bra in the middle of his actions, the clinking sound of the key she had hid there echoed in the small cell. Suddenly, everyone fell silent.

“Isn’t that…” Zeke picked it up and raised a brow. “If I’m not mistaken, this one looks exactly like the one for Jean’s cuffs.”

Pieck frowned deeply, messy hair all over her face. She panted and glared up at Zeke.

Zeke hummed, “I’ve got a new idea. Finish up, Floch.”

“Gladly.” Floch grinned and picked up the pace, making Pieck cry out in what could only be pain. He didn’t even seem to care.

“Just wait ‘till I’m out of here! I’m gonna skin you both alive!” Jean shouted.

He hated having to watch all of this happening without being able to stop it. He hated that Pieck was the one who was suffering from this. They could’ve done whatever they wanted to him, he wouldn’t have cared. But doing all of that to Pieck - who used to be their comrade - was beyond anything he ever experienced. He would make them pay for it.

Floch reached his climax not long after, coming with a satisfied grunt. Pieck looked disgusted more than anything and shut her eyes, turning her head away. After Floch placed a last wet kiss on her neck, he finally pulled away and readjusted his clothes as he stood up.

“So, what’s your plan?” He questioned Zeke.

The blond pulled out a gun from inside his jacket. He loaded it and pointed it at Pieck who was now sitting near the cell door, curled up to cover herself while panting. She looked up from underneath her hair, not very impressed or scared by the gun pointed at her.

“I like that,” Floch muttered to himself and smirked.

Jean’s eyes flicked between Zeke and the gun in his hand a few times. “You’re bluffing,” he stated. There was no way he would just-

A shot fell and Jean’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. He immediately looked over at Pieck. She looked alright...

A body slumped to the floor near him and Jean could see that it was Floch who had gotten shot, not Pieck. It was only a small relief- he didn’t want Floch to just die, he wanted to make him suffer. But it was still better than having that bullet hit Pieck.

“I’m bluffing? I shot Floch who followed orders like the dog he was. You don’t think I’d shoot Pieck who fell into my back?” Zeke reloaded the gun and pointed it at Pieck again. “I’m giving you one more chance to tell me what I want. I will shoot Pieck and inherit your titan myself, that way I will get the information I want anyway.”

Jean swallowed thickly and looked over at Pieck. He realized that Zeke was not joking around, especially after he just shot Floch. This really was his last chance to decide what he wanted to do.

“Three,” Zeke began counting.

Jean felt his body trembling. What should he do? Pieck’s life was on the line, it all depended on what he decided now.

“Two.”

He stared at Pieck, clearly not knowing what to do. It would be obvious for him to do everything to save a life. But if he did that, his friends’ and family’s life would be at danger. It would end bad no matter what he did. Should he sacrifice one life for the greater good?

Seeing his distress, Pieck’s lips curled up. It was a smile that came from deep inside her heart, that was filled with understanding and comfort. It was the most beautiful smile Jean had ever seen. So beautiful, it made tears well in his eyes.

“One.”

A world without Pieck’s smile wouldn’t be a world worth living in. He would never be able to forgive himself for sacrificing Pieck’s life. What would happen in the future wasn’t certain, they could fight Zeke before he made the first step if they got out soon.

What was certain was that Pieck’s life was in danger right there and then and it was his responsibility to ensure her safety. That and nothing else was his duty. He needed to get her out of this situation.

“Alright.” Jean gave in and blinked away his tears. “I’ll talk…”

“No, Jean! Your people-“

“Are idiots. I can’t bear to see you get hurt any more than that...”

“Jean…” Pieck murmured.

“What a wise decision.” Zeke unloaded the gun and lowered it as he faced Jean again. “Now talk.”

He exhaled softly and nodded. “Our base... is about 30 miles northeast from Blonsa. It’s a rather small castle with much free space all around. It’s the only building in a three mile radius, you wouldn’t miss it...”

“Oh, that far away actually? That’s smart.” Zeke nodded. “Go on, go on.”

Jean stole a glance over at Pieck. Her expression filled with disappointment and sadness, her gaze lowering. It made Jean sad in return but he was ready to take that disappointment if it meant to spare Pieck’s life.

If he would’ve sacrificed her, that would make him nothing better than Zeke.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes move to Floch’s unmoving body. A puddle of dark crimson red formed underneath him. The thought of Pieck encountering the same fate made him sick.

“We are around 30 people, myself included…” He added, the volume of his voice dropping a little.

“And that’s the truth?” Zeke used the gun to lift Jean’s face.

The brunet blinked up at him, his eyes flicking between Zeke’s, and calmly nodded. “It is.”

“What would your people do in a situation like that? How would you attack and save a hostage? Tell me about your strategies.”

Jean thought for a moment before he spoke. “My guess would be an attack from the back, something inconspicuous. During dusk or dawn would be optimal… in and out quickly, no one notices.”

Zeke hummed and reached up to give Jean a pat on the head. “That was easy, wasn’t it? We could’ve spared ourselves so much time.”

Jean looked down in silence.

The blond stood up and brushed off his clothes. “Well,” Zeke said as he looked down at the gun in his hand, “back to business.”

“What do you-“

Jean gasped when he heard another shot and looked over at Pieck with wide eyes. His heart began beating faster when he saw how she slumped down to the ground. The sight of her blood broke his heart and he snarled.

“What was that for?! I told you what you wanted to know!”

“I can’t just trust my enemy’s words that easily. You should learn to do the same. I need to check this first, then I’ll know whether to believe your words or not.” Zeke stated very simply. “Learning never stops.”

Jean’s eyes were blown wide as he stared at Pieck for any sign of her being alive- any sound, any move, just anything. That far, he saw nothing which made his anxiety skyrocket.

“Bastard!” Jean shouted, clenching his fists tightly as he finally stood up as well. “How dare you! Come here so I can rip your head off!” He growled and yanked hard on his chains several times.

“I have important things to do now,” Zeke dismissed himself as he walked over to the cell door and unlocked it. He stepped out and locked it behind him again, shooting Jean inside a smirk.

“Hey! Come back!” He shouted.

The blond ignored Jean’s shouting and left without another word. Jean was seething but he soon pushed his anger away to focus on something more important.

“Pieck! Pieck, please tell me you’re still here. You can’t die now!” He exclaimed loudly.

And finally, Pieck’s arm moved. Just a little but enough for him to see. Jean let out the biggest breath.

“Oh, God,” he knelt down and scooted as close to her as possible- which wasn’t very close, considering she was at the other side of the cell. “Can you hear me?”

There came a weak groan. “Y-yeah…”

“Alright, are you able to move? I need you to come closer so we can lessen the bleeding and treat your wound. Where did he hit you?”

Pieck’s heavy breathing was the only audible thing for a few painfully long moments. She very slowly began pushing herself up, using the bars of the cell door for help. Once she sat, she moved her hair out of the way and looked down at herself.

The sight was anything but pleasant; Pieck’s face was still swollen from when Floch beat her after she ran out, she looked so exhausted and tired, and now she was also bleeding so much from a bullet. That day couldn’t get any worse.

“Thigh...” She observed, “could be worse…”

“Okay… Fuck. Okay, I need you to come over. Do you think you can do that? You’re gonna bleed out if you stay there.”

She gave a faint nod in understanding and exhaled. Pieck began inching closer, moving bit for bit towards Jean. Her body was trembling so bad and Jean never wanted to hold her more. He hated seeing her in such a condition- so thoroughly wrecked.

“You’re doing great, don’t forget to breathe.” He reminded her as he moved closer to Floch’s body. If he already was left in there, he at least wanted to make use of him.

Jean took off the jacket and shirt Floch was wearing, all while keeping a close eye on Pieck. She was doing so well. Once he got what he needed from the corpse, he put his attention back on Pieck and stretched out his arms as far as he was able to.

It took some painfully long minutes and Pieck had to take a few smaller breaks during her way whenever she felt too dizzy or felt particularly close to passing out. After a while, she managed to reach Jean and he immediately pulled her closer to himself, so relieved to finally be able to hold her again.

He could only hold her for a moment, however, because he needed to act quickly. He made her lay down and took a closer look at her thigh and the bullet wound.

“The bullet didn’t go through. You will need surgery once we’re out to remove the bullet.” He used the jacket he got from Floch to tie it around her thigh, pulling it tight and lifting her leg a little.

Then he took the shirt and helped Pieck to pull it on. “I know you don’t want to wear his clothes but that’s better than nothing,” he explained while guiding her arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

“It’s fine…” She murmured, looking up at Jean. “I.. managed to get a... l-look outside. It’s… it’s starting to get dark… Also… saw Porco...”

“That’s good, so he probably knows not to do anything for now. And my comrades should be here any moment... You need to stay awake, you hear? Just look at me.” He held her hands close to himself, squeezing her while his other hand came up to brush her hair out of her face.

Pieck’s eyes were half lidded and tired, more than usually. Jean began worrying about her for real; being shot and not getting proper medical care was a serious matter. He hoped Hanji and the others wouldn’t be too late.

“You’re.. quite a sight… I wouldn’t want to look anywhere else anyway...” Pieck smiled weakly and reached up to hold onto Jean’s wrist, keeping his hand pressed onto her cheek.

“You’ll be alright, we’ll take care of everything.” He promised and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll never let anyone lay a hand on you again. I’m sorry for letting it come this far… You didn’t deserve all this…”

Shaking her head, Pieck nuzzled his palm. “You did... what you had to do. I-I am a little disappointed... that you told him about your people...”

A smile came to Jean’s lips. “None of it was true. You know, I’m some kind of actor myself.” He chuckled.

Pieck let out a small chuckle as well and raised her hand to touch Jean’s cheek. He moved down to make it easier for her. “That’s a relief...” She murmured softly.

The brunet leaned closer and let their foreheads touch. He closed his eyes for a few moments.

“Jean, can you.. kiss me..?” Pieck whispered, “if I die now... I don’t want Floch... to be the last person who-who kissed me..”

“No.” Jean was quick to deny, “because you won’t die. We’ll make it out and you will be taken care of. And then I will kiss you as many times as you want. I won’t let you die here.” He promised.

Pieck just smiled. “D-dummy… You’re too much.” She moved a little, dragging her upper body up so she was able to lean against Jean’s chest instead of laying on the hard floor. He helped her by holding her close and making sure Pieck wasn’t straining herself too much. She rested her head against Jean’s chest, pressing her ear against him to listen to his heartbeat.

“Your heart… is beating really fast,” she observed quietly, “am I… important to you?”

“Of course you are.” He stroked her head, cradling his fingers through her thick hair. “You made being imprisoned very pleasant. I’ve never enjoyed being a prisoner more, and there were a couple of times I got captured already.”

Pieck hummed and patted his chest. “That’s good to know…”

Jean placed a kiss on the top of her head and looked over at the cell door, wondering when the others would finally be there. “It shouldn’t take very long… Tell me something about you. A random story, what you like, just anything.” He needed to keep Pieck awake and the easiest was probably to let her talk about something.

“I like… t-tall guys with goatees... and two co-colored hair. Especially… Especially if their hearts beat f-fast just for me…” She tilted her head up to look at him. “A-and kittens.”

“What a coincidence. I like short women with black hair and mesmerizing grey eyes, especially if they make my heart beat fast.” Jean smiled and took ahold of her hand, rubbing small circles over it. “How about we adopt a kitten? We could-“

There was a strange sound and Jean quickly looked up, tightening his grip on Pieck by instinct. A person was doing something at the cell door that Jean couldn’t make out. He narrowed his eyes.

“Hey, what are you-“

“Shh!” They hushed quickly.

And soon, the door opened and that person stepped inside. Jean could see that they were holding something big in their hand and frowned. The darkness wasn’t helping him in any way. He couldn’t see what it was.

“The hell do you want?” He questioned lowly.

“Jean, we’re trying to rescue you here! Can you shut up now?!” A sharp hiss.

Jean’s eyes lit up. “Sasha!” He gasped.

“Shh!” The brunette hissed again and stepped closer to the two on the floor. She crouched down and glanced at Pieck shortly, then at Floch, then took one of Jean’s hands to get a look at the chains. “Who’s that?” She asked quietly.

Jean looked down at the short girl in his arms. “A.. friend. I will explain later.” He said, not wanting to waste precious time.

Sasha nodded and lifted the bolt cutter she brought with her to cut off the chains of Jean’s cuffs. She did it on each hand, lowering the chains to the floor slowly so they wouldn’t cause too much noise. After both chains were off, Sasha threw her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re alright…”

Jean returned the short hug, loving the feeling of being reunited with his friend. When they pulled apart, he lifted Pieck into his arms and stood up. She groaned a little in pain but was fine once Jean stood. “What’s the plan?” He looked at Sasha.

She opened her mouth but a loud explosion cut her off before she was able to say anything. A second explosion followed and Sasha waved Jean along. “Hanji and the others will lure everyone outside while we take a different exit. We’re gonna meet up with them and then leave all together.” She explained while exiting the cell and turning a few corners.

Jean was sure to follow close behind her while looking around everywhere to make sure nobody saw them.

“Connie is cleaning a path for us.” She commented, though still was careful at every corner and checked everything before continuing to walk.

Jean looked down at Pieck to check on her. “Everything alright?”

The ravenette remained silent and closed her eyes. She was getting dizzier by the minute, her skin cold to the touch. The jacket that was tied around her leg was already soaked with her blood. She felt weak and tired and began breathing shallow.

“We almost did it, you need to look at me.” He urged, “Don’t close your eyes.”

Pieck blinked her eyes open and tried to keep them open but it was obvious she was having a hard time.

Jean cursed under his breath and began walking faster. He was determined to save Pieck, there was no other choice for him.

While the explosions and cries outside could be heard, Sasha led them on the fastest way out. It seemed she was very familiar with that place but it was rather because of her excellent hearing that they avoided bumping into anyone.

They soon caught up with Connie who helped them climb out of a window. It was the first time in weeks that Jean saw the sky again and although that was a great feeling, he couldn’t enjoy it. Not with Pieck being on the brink of death.

“Our horses are this way.” Connie said as he pointed over at a few trees in the distance, close to the forest. “Are you sure you can run like that?”

Jean blinked, then followed Connie’s gaze down at Pieck. He furrowed his brows and nodded. “I can, let’s go.” He muttered and began running with the two.

Pieck weakly squeezed Jean every here and there to let him know she was still fighting to stay awake. But she was losing too much blood, her body lost all of its strength and her eyes remained closed.

“Hey! Stay with me!” He exclaimed, seeing how her hand eventually dropped onto her stomach.

He ran faster, his eyes focused on her face.

“Pieck! Pieck!!”

~

The attack was won with little to no casualties. Some soldiers got injured but luckily it was nothing serious. The Survey Corps managed to fight back and retreat when the time was right. Thanks to Levi and Mikasa, they were even able to capture Zeke.

Now Zeke was in a dungeon deep underneath the ground where he couldn’t transform even if he wanted to. A similar position Jean was in. He was constantly being guarded but experienced none of the things that happened to Jean. That wasn’t the Survey Corps’ way of handling things.

Although Levi and Hanji were rough when it came to torture, it never got as far as raping or throwing acid on someone.

Jean was finally free again and enjoyed not being chained to a wall in a small, cold cell the whole day. The sun on his skin was very refreshing and something he wouldn’t take for granted anymore.

The brunet looked up at the sky. Two birds flew high up, spreading their wings as the sun shone above them. It was just an hour before sunset, two at most. A very calm day.

Jean stopped to pick some flowers on his way, a few colorful ones that looked good together. Then he continued his way towards the building he was heading to. It was a big white building with many windows and a small garden. His gaze stayed on one window in particular.

Sighing softly, he walked inside and greeted a few people he got friendly with after his many visits. He climbed the stairs to the third floor, walked along the hallway until he stopped at the seventh door on the right side and knocked twice. It has been the same routine for almost a week now and felt so natural.

“Come in,” a soft voice called from the inside.

Jean did as told and walked inside, closing the door behind himself. He approached the bed with a soft smile. “How is she?” He asked timidly.

“Doing much better already,” the nurse looked at her watch. After a minute, she smiled, “her pulse is starting to go back to a normal pace. She’s been breathing without help since yesterday evening, that’s a great improvement.”

The brunet nodded and took a seat beside the bed. He grabbed Pieck’s hand and brought it up to his lips. “I’m glad to hear that.” He murmured, placing a kiss on her knuckle.

“It shouldn’t take much longer anymore.” The nurse placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “she’ll get through. Call me if you need something.” She spoke before exiting the room, leaving the two to have some privacy.

He nodded and looked back at Pieck’s resting face. Most of the bruises on her face healed already, only smaller things were left which would fade with time. She looked so peaceful but Jean would much rather be able to look into her eyes again. Her big silver eyes, sparkling and gleaming every time she spoke to him in particular. Or just hear her beautiful voice. He’d give anything to hear her call him ‘dummy’ one more time again. It’s been so long…

Jean waited for the door to close before he scooted closer to the bed. He reached up and brushed a few strands of hair out of Pieck’s face. Even though she was getting better, her face still looked so exhausted.

“I brought you new flowers.” He held up said flowers, as if showing them to Pieck. “The old ones already withered.” He turned to look at the nightstand beside him and reached out to swap out the old flowers with the new ones he brought.

Afterwards, he turned back to her and held her small hand with the both of his own, rubbing over her knuckles tenderly. Like always, Pieck showed no reaction. All she did the last five days was laying there and not making a sound.

“I wish you would wake up already... There’s so much I want to show you here. And I want to introduce you to my friends properly… Sasha is so excited to meet you.”

He leaned down and rested his head on top of their hands, his eyes stayed fixated on Pieck the whole time in hopes she would open them any moment.

She didn’t, however, and Jean ended up spending the whole day in her room to keep her company. He would tell her some random stories of his cadet years while running his fingers through her hair or just watch her face quietly.

Looking at her made him both happy and sad. It was such a bittersweet feeling. Happy because she was alive and was out of that awful place. Sad because Pieck wasn’t waking up from her coma. If he only did more back then, if only Pieck didn’t lose that much blood… Maybe they would be doing other things now.

He couldn’t change what happened anymore, so he just hoped Pieck wouldn’t have to pay with her life. She was so strong, all she needed to do was open her eyes.

Yet that simple task seemed so impossible.

~

(You could see this as the end. Though there’s another small part thats some fluff and fun and a happier ending but unfortunately didn’t fit here because this post reached its maximum length,,, its definitely on ao3 if anyones interested!

A big fat thanks to everyone who read this <33 )

[queen-scribbles]

You’re One to Talk

Companion piece to I Would Never; Vica’s POV for one of her busier days somewhere between Ossus and all the stuff in Echoes of Vengeance. Roughly the same length, too. 

----

To the unfamiliar, the Alliance Commander looked the very picture of poise. With her hair done up in that vaguely-aristocratic style she loved so much and posture that made even her simple outfit look elegant, Vica radiated serenity well before you got to her small, warm smile. A smile currently aimed at a wildly gesticulating starship mechanic, while Vica listened to his grievances with an air of sympathetic calm.

But Theron knew her too well to buy it. There was a faint edge of strain to her smile; not caused by the mechanic, but he was surely the latest in a long line of people who wanted “just a moment of your time, Commander”. And no matter how busy she already was, refusing to listen when someone had a need would be un-Jedi-like, so she would never.

Thus, Theron swept across the hanger bay in just a few long strides to give her an out. “Commander, the general and admiral are ready in the conference room.”

Vica turned and flashed him a tighter version of that smile, halfway between gratitude and let me handle this, darling. “Thank you, I’ll be right there,” she said, before shifting back to assure the mechanic his concerns would be addressed as soon as possible. With him placated, she gave Theron a much more genuine smile. “Thank you,” she breathed, leaning against his chest.

Theron rubbed her back as he hugged her, frowning at the tension in her shoulders. “That bad?”

“Not bad,” Vica said with a sigh, straightening and pinching the bridge of her nose before heading toward the conference wing. “Just... a lot. And all at once. There’s the Republic delegation, and the security overhaul, and pirate attacks on our supply ships that mean rearranging the Mandalorian escorts, and Hylo wanted to talk about a few of her people she thinks are skimming, and a couple more she feels could be given more responsibility-”

“I’m getting tired just listening to that list,” Theron cut her off glibly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he kept pace. “Do they really all have to go through you?”

She shot him a look. “I’m the Commander. I chose to keep us independent. That makes the security and well-being of the Alliance my responsibility.”

“Leadership of the Alliance is your responsibility,” he corrected. They stepped onto the elevator and he pulled her in to kiss her temple. “Leaders delegate. You don’t have to do everything yourself.” Despite how long the Council and universe in general told you otherwise.

Vica bit her lip, but he still heard the You’re one to talk in her eyes. “I did. Lana’s overseeing the security upgrades, and Briyoni took Jonas to deal with the perimeter sensors that went down.”

“Oh, good, thank her for keeping him busy for me,” Theron deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes but smiled as she whacked his arm with the back of one hand. “I thought you two were friends.”

“We are. Which means I know what he’s like when he’s bored.” He rubbed her back again. “And how quickly he’ll likely get to that point while he’s here. If your sister can keep him occupied for a couple hours, means longer before he starts bugging me.”

This time she actually laughed, and he was gratified to feel some of the tension ease in her shoulders. “Careful, or she’ll say you owe her one.”

“Right, because dragging her husband off somewhere unsupervised for a couple hours when they haven’t seen each other in months was entirely altruistic.”

“Theron!” Vica protested, but her shoulders were shaking with laughter as she buried her face against his chest.

The elevator reached their desired floor and he tugged her arm to guide her off. “You tellin’ me we wouldn’t do the same thing in their shoes?” he murmured into her hair, and her grip on his jacket tightened briefly.

Vica took a deep breath and was Barsen’thor-levels of composed when she straightened. A hint of mirth still danced in her eyes as she serenely commented, “We have a meeting.”

That’s a no, Theron smirked but behaved himself, gesturing to the conference room door. “So we do. After you, Commander.”

“Thank you, Agent Shan,” she said with a smile, and had fully shifted to the role of Commander by the time she stepped into the room.

---

Vica had been mildly concerned her to-do list would distract from the meeting, but she had that chain of thought spinning away in the back of her mind by the time she and Theron took their seats and exchanged pleasantries with Aygo and Daeruun. Her main focus was firmly and unwaveringly on their conversation as they discussed the state of the galaxy and best way to use the Republic and Alliance’s resources. She trusted Aygo with the the Alliance military action--and had almost just let him handle this meeting, with how busy she was--but she did need to be at least in the loop if not giving final word on big decisions. Like which sectors to keep a close eye on and which were secure enough to spare manpower to shore up weaker areas. What to do about various Imperial actions or pirate attacks. It was a very tricky balance puzzle, and the very faintest edges of a headache were creeping in by the time they reached a solution.

“Thank you for your time, Commander,” General Daeruun said warmly as he stood. “That took longer than I expected it would, and I know you’re busy.”

“It was an important list of issues, General,” Vica demurred with a smile. “I always have time for our allies in the Republic. No matter how busy I may be.”

The general chuckled. “A most gracious host. When you find the opportunity to relax, Commander...” He pulled a small packet from one of the pouches on his belt. “A token of friendship; a new blend I encountered on Atraken. I find it quite adept at calming the mind.”

Vica perked up at the offer of new tea and stepped forward to accept it with a grin. “Thank you very much, General. I look forward to when I have the chance to try it.”

“Yeah, so do I,” Theron muttered behind her, barely audible.

She ignored him. He was one to talk about working too hard, anyway. “Make yourself at home as long as you’re here, General. I need to see to some other matters if we’re finished?”

“We are indeed,” General Daeruun nodded. “Best of luck with your other endeavors, Commander.”

“Thank you. And, again, for the tea. Aygo, you can head down to staging when you’re ready.”

The admiral nodded, looking up from the datapad he’d been studying. “Of course, Commander.”

Theron trailed her out of the conference room, and Vica pivoted, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze once they were out in the hall. “So, what’s next on your to do list?”

He gave her an arched brow look. “Try and convince my wife to take a five minute break before she dives back into her ocean of work?”

“I will,” Vica promised, resting a hand on his arm. “But I still need to talk to Hylo, and the meeting went long, so it’s almost time for my holocall with--”

“Vica, it’s five minutes,” Theron said with a wry smile. “Just go sit on a conference table and meditate or something so you don’t burn out.”

She giggled at the mental image; Barsen’thor and Commander and Outlander, perched cross-legged on a conference table to meditate like a mischievous youngling. “I will. Take a break, I mean. But the ambassador’s expecting my call, so I really need to at least do that first.”

He pursed his lips. “I’ll talk to Hylo.”

“You aren’t too busy?”

“Nah, my to-do list is much shorter than yours,” he deadpanned. “Let me help.”

“It is the sort of thing you’re good at...” Vica pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to quash the guilty tickle at ‘pawning off her responsibilities’. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“All yours, then.” She flashed a tired smile. “See? Delegating.”

“Good for you,” Theron drawled, leaning down to steal a kiss before they parted ways.

Vica snaked a hand around the back of his neck to hold him close an extra few heartbeats. “Thank you,” she murmured as they parted.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Theron replied quietly, pressing a light kiss to her forehead as well before he headed for the elevator.

Vica smiled, sighed, and made her way to one of the more private holoterminals.

---

There were, fortunately, no surprises lurking in her conversation with the Qalitan ambassador. Just typical diplomatic chitchat about their contributions an compensations and how things stood on Qalita Prime.

Vica breathed a long sigh of relief after ending the call, smoothing a hand down her shirt as she mentally crossed that off her list. One thing down, eight more to go...

She almost ran into the aide hurrying down the hall when she stepped out of the room. The baby-faced zabrak didn’t seem fazed by the near-collision, already rambling before Vica could get an apology out,” Oh, Commander, I’ve been looking for you.” He held out a datapad. “Trestal sent some revisions to our treaty.”

Vica frowned. “We’re formalizing that in two days.” They had a month and they chose now?!

“I know, Commander.” His tattoos wrinkled as his brow furrowed. “They promised it was only a few things, minor adjustments to phrasing and the like.”

Which immediately set alarm bells ringing; you didn’t wait til the last minute to make minor adjustments. Vica groaned. This day was one long game of bop-a-gizka; get one thing taken care of and another popped up somewhere else. “I’ll take a look at it. Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am, and... sorry.” The aide frowned apologetically.

“Not your fault,” She said with a sigh, and took the datapad to her quarters to review. The timing was atrocious, and made her very glad she’d let Theron take talking to Hylo. So much for that five minute break.

---

When he’d nagged her about taking a break, dozing off over a datapad hadn’t really been what he had in mind. Theron debated letting her be anyway, but she’d have an awful crick in her neck from that position.

He sat next to her on the couch and gently poked her shoulder. “Vica.”

She jerked upright, fumbling the datapad a moment before catching it just as it started to slide off her lap. “What do you need?”

“Just checking in.” Theron rubbed her arm. “Dry reading?”

“Give me a history text over political document any day,” Vica said with a wan smile. She stretched and rubbed the back of her neck. “How’d it go with Hylo?”

“Fine,” Theron shrugged. “She has good instincts, and good evidence for both the accusations and the people she wants to promote.”

“Good, glad that was easy.”

“How ‘bout you, what’s so enthralling you added it into your schedule?” He nudged the datapad. 

“Trestal treaty. They made some minor changes and phrasing tweaks-”

“Now?” Theron frowned skeptically at the datapad. “Two days before we sign the blasted thing?”

“That’s what I said!” Vica tossed the datapad on a chair and half-turned to face him. “But I’ve been going over it for” --a glance at the wall chrono-- “stars, two hours, and didn’t find anything major. All the changes I’ve noted--and there aren’t a lot--have been little things, nothing that drastically alters the terms. I think politics have jaded me.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Theron said dryly.

She nodded, but absently, like her thoughts were elsewhere, and rubbed her eyes. “Did Briyoni and Jonas make it back alright?”

“I don’t think they’re back yet...” he said slowly, and her posture snapped stiff.

“It’s been hours,” Vica pointed out as she shot to her feet, “more than enough time to repair a couple sensors.”

Knowing Balkar as well as he did, and that Bry was a good match for him, Theron wasn’t terribly worried just yet. “I’m sure they’re fine, Vee. Maybe one of the repairs took extra work, or they’re just taking their sweet time.” Like I’d be trying to do if we’d gone.

“Maybe.” Vica didn’t sound convinced. “Can’t hurt to check...”

He snorted a chuckle. “Technically, no, but if you interrupt their first time alone in months just ‘cause you’re worried...” He smirked and leaned back on the couch. “On second thought, maybe your sister will send death glares at you instead of me for a while. A break would be nice.”

She rolled her eyes and keyed up comms as she paced toward the window.  “Briyoni, how’s it going?” A frown wrinkled her brow. “Briyoni?”

Okay, if she wasn’t answering comms, that might be a problem. Or just a bid for privacy.

---

Vica instinctively defaulted to one of the meditations techniques she knew to calm the worry spiraling through her gut.

The comms were dead. Switched off or jammed she couldn’t tell, but there was no answer to her attempts at raising her sister and she couldn’t quite bring herself to agree with Theron’s theory behind the delay.

She tried again. “Briyoni, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

She turned to look at Theron, mildly panicked despite the attempt to meditate it away. “There’s nothing.”

“Nothing as in she’s ignoring you, or as in just static?”

“Nothing as in dead air.” Vica hugged her arms close around herself. “What if something happened to them?”

“Well.” Theron stood and moved to join her. “They’re both very resourceful, and pretty damn hard to kill.” Bry might have more attempts to her name, but Balkar had squeaked out of a few tight spots of his own, and they made a damn good team. He rubbed Vica’s arms and pulled her into a hug. “They’re probably okay, but do you want to send someone after them?”

“Who?” she asked with a wry snort. “Everyone’s busy, including us, that’s why Briyoni volunteered to handle this in the first place.” She picked up her datapad and called up the speeder logs. The locator was offline.

That set her gut twisting. Calm, Vica, he’s right. Resourceful and hard to kill. She’d heard about Eclipse Squad. About Denon. 

Good or bad, this also meant they had no way of knowing where Briyoni and Jonas were even if she wanted to check on them. “No point sending someone; their speeder’s not showing.”

“Huh. Weird. Let me see?” Theron took the datapad and scanned the logs.  “Nothing about a crash, maybe they’re just out of range.”

“Maybe.” Her skepticism carried in her voice more than she’d meant. They would have had to go seriously off-course for that, so it was a long shot, but she appreciated him trying to make her feel better.

He flashed a sympathetic half-smile. “Here’s a plan: we spend a little while working on things we can do from here with datapads and comms, and you can keep checking to see if Bry’s signal comes back. If it doesn’t, then we worry about how to handle tracking them down.”

It was a good plan. Much more manageable than her fretting about two people in all the untamed expanse of Odessen. She shot him a grateful smile. “Since when are you the reasonable one?”

Theron snorted and kissed her forehead, not seeming the least offended. “Since you started panicking about your sister being AWOL.”

She snorted in turn and plunked down on the couch. “An hour,” she decided. “If I try for an hour with no response, we’ll have to do something.”

“Sounds fair,” Theron agreed, sitting next to her. “Emotional support,” he said with a one-shoulder shrug when she gave him a you’re staying? look.

Her chest warmed at the words and Vica leaned over to kiss his cheek before settling in to try and do some work.

---

It took half of that hour she was willing to wait for one of Vica’s increasingly worried-despite her best efforts--checks to bear fruit. 

“...Yeah, Vic?” came crackling back, Briyoni’s voice slightly raised(wind from a moving speeder, maybe?).

Vica wilted against Theron’s shoulder. “Oh, thank the Force.” There was a pulse of unguarded relief from him as well. Apparently he’d been more worried than he let on. “I’ve been trying to check in for... half an hour. What happened?”

“We, uh, ran into some technical difficulties exploring an alternate route.” At least she had the decency to sound a little sheepish. “There’s a section of canyon down here, fuzzed out comms and the map.”

A cold spike prickled up her spine, her jaw tightening at a memory. 

“You have forgotten what it is to face death alone. I will remind you.”

She was dimly aware of Theron’s hand on her shoulder, but it was Briyoni’s voice that snapped her out of it. “Vica?”

Vica purged the emotion and accompanying tremor from her voice. “I think I know where you’re talking about.”

“Your friends cannot hear you....”

“Are you out of there?” Even with Valkorion... gone, who knew how much his presence might have warped things in that place.

“Yeah....”

“Good. Don’t go back.” It was the closest thing to an order she’d given her sister since Briyoni joined the Alliance.

“Yes, ma’am, Commander, ma’am,” came the glib reply, and Vica couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.

“Finish your job, Briyoni,” she reminded, a smile tugging her lips.

“That’s the plan. Get back on track, fix the sensor, be on our way home. See you in an hour or so, Vic.”

“See you then.” Vica closed the channel and exhaled a long slow breath of relief, her head falling back on Theron’ shoulder.

“I take it they’re fine?” he asked. 

She sat up and nodded. “They were exploring and wound up in a canyon that interfered with comms and the map.”

From the way his eyes narrowed, his thoughts went the same place hers had.  “Where Valkorion...?”

“That’s my guess.” Vica rubbed the back of her neck and shuddered, as if she could shake off the memory. “They’re finishing now.”

“So, how long, exactly, do I have before Balkar’s around to bug me?”

Vica snorted and bumped her knee against his. He grumbled, but the slight upward curve of his lips said he didn’t really mind the prospect. “An hour or so. Maybe longer if he doesn’t jump right into pestering you.”

“Good to know.” Theron set his datapad on the low table and turned to give her a serious look. “Now, all kidding aside. Since you know your sister’s fine, and you got more work done--”

She knew where this was going.

“--will you please take that five minute break now?”

Called it. She was feeling drained, if she was honest. He had a good point. “I’ll do ten minutes. On one condition.”

“I take it with you.”

“Mm, smart man,” she grinned. “You’ve been working almost as hard as I have today, Theron. If I need it, so do you.”

He looked ready to argue, then reconsidered and caved with a sheepish nod.  “’S a fair point.”

“It’s just ten minutes,” Vica pointed out, dropping her datapad next to his and settling in tucked close against him. “We can spare ten minutes.”

“Sure.” Theron wrapped an arm around her and his cheek pressed her hair.  “Just a little break. We need it.”

She hummed in agreement. They did need this.

---

They were both asleep when Bry stuck her head in to look for Vica; Theron slouched in the corner of couch back and arm with Vica sprawled on top of him, their legs half-falling off the couch. She grinned, biting back a laugh, and debated taking a holo of the two of them. (Vica was snoring a little; it was kind of adorable.) But it was too risky she’d wake them, so she reluctantly discarded the idea and instead tiptoed across the room, avoiding the tangle of legs. Quietly as possible--impressive to anyone who knew her--Bry picked up Vica’s datapad and typed a quick Back safe. Enjoy your nap. B before tiptoeing back out to let them sleep.

Stars knew they needed it.