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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

His Lovely Girl.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Requested: nope

Warnings: insecurity

Summary: Sebastian spoils her all the time. What has she ever done for him? When someone leaves a rude comment under her Instagram post, she can't help but rethink her entire relationship with the handsome actor.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! We're back to Marvel lol, enjoy!

---

"I'll see you later, dove, have fun!" Y/N grinned when her boyfriend leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Bye, Seb, I'll miss you," she whispered and he looked down at her, his heart swelling in his chest, full of appreciation for her. He loved her so much. "I'll miss you too, Y/N, but I'll only be gone for around 6 hours." Y/N pouted and he couldn't help it.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I know. Go now, I don't want to be the reason you're late." He laughed heartily when she pushed him away with a smile. "Oh, doll, everyone knows about us, they'll know anyway." With that, he waved at her and left the apartment they shared. Y/N had moved in with him 2 years into dating.

Sebastian Stan; let's just say, he was a busy man. Y/N sighed and got up from the bed, feeling hungry. They had started dating 4 years ago, and what years those were; the most blissful ones in both their lives. They loved each other to death, and they knew that. Y/N waddled into the kitchen and looked around the various cabinets, finding a box of Mac and Cheese.

It was a funny story, actually, how they met. Y/N, at the time, was working as a barista at Starbucks. One day, Sebastian had walked into the Starbucks where she worked, and she was the one who took his order. He was extremely polite, funny and a bit awkward and just like that, she fell in love with him all over again. Y/N was a Marvel geek and Sebastian had noticed.

"I really like your hoodie, doll, where'd you get it?" he had asked her after telling her his order. And she had looked down, seeing the custom-made hoodie she wore. It was black in colour, but one of the sleeves was silver and had a red star on the bicep, just like his arm from the movie Captain America: Winter Soldier.

Bucky's trigger words were printed on the front of the hoodie. She had blushed furiously, simultaneously cursing and thanking her fate and coincidence. "I had it custom made," she had told him at the time and he had grinned so wide he thought his mouth would tear open. That was the moment where he, too, realized that he was getting a crush on the pretty barista.

And he hadn't hesitated to ask her for her number. He had taken a tissue paper, scribbled his number down and had written what's yours? ;) underneath. When he went to pay for his coffee, he purposely made sure that he wasn't giving her any change. With his notes, he slid her the tissue and she took it, giving him a confused look.

When she read it, her breath hitched. While pulling out his change, she had discreetly written her number down on the tissue, saved his on her phone and had given the tissue back to him with the coins. Both of them had grinned widely at each other when he left. While walking home, he had taken out the tissue and had seen her number written neatly under his. And his heart raced, Y/N is worth it.

---

*@yn_yln posted a photo*

4,583 likes

yn_yln Mac and Cheese, anyone? :D

Y/N smiled and logged out of her Instagram account after posting the photo. She just couldn't resist; she looked good that day, one of those days where she felt confident enough to post a picture. She kept her phone away and sauntered into the sitting room to watch something on the television. An hour passed before she yawned, feeling tired.

2:05 pm, her watch displayed. Well, there's no harm in an afternoon nap, am I right? Sebastian wasn't home anyway, and it's not like she had anything to do. Grabbing her phone off the dining table, she walked into hers and Sebastian's shared bedroom, plopping down on the bed. She decided to check her Instagram before falling asleep and opened the said app.

She went through the page that displayed all the likes and comments, pausing at one comment. Her heart dropped as she clicked on the comment, her entire being filling with an uneasy feeling. You're only dating him for the money, admit it. Until then, she had never even thought… about that. Throwing her phone to the side she sat up, breathing heavily.

Y/N was currently jobless. After they started going out, she continued working at Starbucks until last year; Sebastian had suggested that she leave the job and work somewhere better, earn a higher salary. Y/N had discarded the idea at first, since the job paid enough for her to go about her daily things and where would she even find another job?

Starbucks was okay. But Sebastian wouldn't hear it. So she left the job, now jobless. She had applied to a few places but hadn't received any news as of yet. They're right. I'm living off of him. I don't even have a job. What does it look like? A broke woman dating a rich, handsome guy? Oh my God, am I leeching off his hard work? All those thoughts rushed through her head in a span of a few seconds.

The more she thought about it, the more she teared up. Blinking the tears away, she lay back down and curled up under the comfortable blankets. His blankets. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to fall asleep but the tears were proving it to be difficult. Fortunately, she drifted off into an uneasy slumber 15 minutes later.

---

"Baby, I'm home!"

Silence. Sebastian frowned, carefully walking into the house. "Y/N?" he called out but there was no answer. Keeping the bag he was holding away, he walked further into the apartment, stopping at the doorway of their bedroom. "Aw," he whispered under his breath, smiling, stepping into the bedroom. He gently sat next to his sleeping girlfriend.

His knuckles traced her cheeks but he froze. Why is she so cold? His soft touch was enough to wake her up, because she stirred and blinked up at him. "Seb, hi, welcome back." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Did you fall sick?" he asked worriedly as she sat up, distancing herself from him. "I'm not sick," she muttered but Sebastian wouldn't buy it.

He reached out to cup her cheek, feeling like he had been stabbed multiple times when she leaned away from his touch. "Y/N?" She shook her head and looked out of the window, bringing her knees to her chest. "Just wanna be alone right now." She didn't want to send him away. She wanted to sit in his lap, listen to him rambling about his day…

But she also didn't want to be near him. Do I even deserve him? "What happened?" he insisted, his eyes going wide when she glared at him. "Go. Away." He scrambled off the bed without another word, softly closing the door behind him as he walked into the sitting room, running a hand through his hair. He sat down on the couch and looked around.

What happened in those 6 hours that he was away? Sebastian knew she wasn't on her cycle, it still had another week to come. So it wasn't mood swings. His eyes landed on the empty bowl of Mac and Cheese sitting on the dining table but they skimmed right past it, not knowing that that bowl was the reason for Y/N's sadness. Then he stared at the designer handbag on the opposite couch.

Picking up the bag, he strode back to their room, knocking on the door. Maybe seeing a pretty purse would lighten her mood? "What?" Y/N called out from inside and he opened the door, holding the purse up. "I brought you a gift." Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest and tears glistened in her eyes anew as she stared at the bag with utmost resentment.

"I don't want it."

Sebastian went rigid. She never rejects my gifts. "Y/N—" She started shaking her head. "No. Return it. I'm not taking it. I don't want it," she repeated, her glare now directed at him. "But doll…" he tried, freezing when her jaw clenched. "Get out." Disheartened, he walked out once more, more confused than anything. Now I have to know what happened.

Inside the room, Y/N sobbed silently. The bag was so pretty, her favorite color, the sleek design… she wanted to keep it so bad, but she knew she wasn't worthy of it. Sebastian brought her gifts all the time. Most of them expensive as shit; he had the money to blow off. What had she done for him? Nothing, really. He spoiled her heartily, never once allowing her to do the same.

"You're mine, baby girl, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to spoil."

She was definitely leeching off him. Outside the room, Sebastian took out his phone and texted Y/F/N, who was Y/N's closest friend. They rarely spoke, but Y/N told Y/F/N everything and he knew she'd have answers.

hey, do you know what's up with y/n

why what happened

she's in a really bad mood

she's angry at me and I brought her a gift but she won't take it

she usually loves them but today…

OH WAIT

I know what happened

she texted me in the afternoon

something about a comment on Instagram or something

ig that's why she's in a bad mood

thanks

I'll check it out

He ended the conversation and opened Instagram, seeing a new post from his dear girlfriend. Sebastian couldn't help but smile as he liked the photo, commenting a heart emoji. There were only around 22 comments on the post, so he decided to go through them. Which comment had triggered her? He found it instantly and his nostrils flared.

Replying to the fairly rude comment, he typed, how about you fuck off and mind your own damn business? If you don't like her, unfollow and leave. There's literally nothing else you need to do. After hitting send, he kept his phone away and, determination shining in his eyes, ran back to the bedroom.

He threw open the door and a sob escaped the lips of the startled woman. He started taking off the annoying clothes he was wearing until he was just in his boxers, sliding into the bed next to her. She attempted to push him away but the strong man didn't budge, holding her on his lap as she thrashed. Soon, she gave up the fight and melted against him, crying her eyes out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again and again, her breath hitching. "Hush, baby, it's okay, I'm not mad," he whispered, rubbing her back, helping her calm down. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around him. "Tell me the truth. What happened?" he asked even though he knew the answer. Tiredly, Y/N narrated everything; from the comment to all her insecurities.

Sebastian gently cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears off. "Y/N, you're mine. I love taking care of you, I love spoiling you, and I don't do it because I expect something in return, I do it because I love you. Don't listen to strangers on the internet, what better work do they have? Nothing but lowlifes. You don't have to do anything for me. I don't want you to do anything for me."

"But Seb…"

"No. No, you're my girlfriend and only the best for my girl. I love all the gifts you get me. I cherish them wholeheartedly. Just you being my girl is a gift better than anything else in the world, to be honest. But I'm going to continue looking after you whether you like it or not. You don't even have to go to work, I'm here for you. I love you." Y/N teared up again.

They were happy tears.

"I love you so much," she cried weakly and Sebastian pulled her to him, cradling her head, breathing her in. "I love you too, doll. Now will you take my gift, please?" She nodded against him and he gently lowered her on the bed, going outside to get the bag. Once back in their room he handed the bag to her, smiling at the way her eager hands reached up to accept the gift.

As he watched her admiring the bag, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, till death do them part.

His girl, his lovely girl.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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februaryflowers · 3 years

Text

windmills of your mind

you platonically loved vernon so much and so long ago the two of you moved in together. the key word is loved. you promised to always tell each other the truth, and now that your feelings border new territory, you don’t know how to break it to him or how he’ll take it.

warnings: none

fluff, 1335 words, vernon x reader | part eight of open up!

a/n: it’s been 5ever im so sorry 😭 i have a loose plan to get this series done in the next few months hoping that my time and motivation keep up 🤞

“We’re free!” you cheer, tossing your graduation cap into the air next to Vernon.

He follows your movement with a gummy smile on his face as he stares back at you and your wide grin. You can’t believe it. You’re both graduates.

“No more school, no more finals. We’re done,” you sigh, relieved.

“We still need to get real jobs, silly,” Vernon teases, pushing your shoulder lightly.

Catching the cap in your hands, you watch as the crowd begins to disperse to find family members and friends.

However it’s just you and Vernon today. And that’s perfectly alright. You couldn’t imagine spending graduation with anyone else but your closest confidant.

After meeting at freshman orientation, you quickly bonded when you found out you were in the same major and lived in the same building.

Now, you prepare to face the future with him. You’ve just found a new apartment together and now with your shiny, new degrees, you feel ready to take on the world with him by your side.

“Listen,” he says, pulling you gently to the side, “thanks for moving in with me.”

“Of course!” you reply. “There’s nobody else I’d rather live with.”

He smiles and scratches the back of his neck as he glances away shyly. “Thank you, really.”

“No need to thank me,” you giggle. “Like I said, there’s nobody else I’d rather live with. I love you and you deserve to know and feel it.”

Color begins to dust his cheeks at your words. Of course he knows that you care for him, but to hear it is something else.

“And I plan on loving you for a long time, Vernon Chwe. You better get used to it,” you tease.

Holding his hands up in the air, he laughs. “I am, I am.” He slings an arm behind you. “I love you too.”

Everything is the way it should be, just a couple of best friends living their best lives together, a bright horizon ahead.

Since your first shared apartment and graduation, you’ve moved jobs and homes several times. However there was always one constant in your life: Vernon.

You lean your head against his shoulder as you sit on the couch together for your monthly movie night with your best friend and roommate all in one, but you just can’t wait. Sure, you’ve done this countless times before, but your heart is racing in your ribcage regardless.

Was it always like this? Did it always beat a mile a minute in Vernon’s presence?

Before you can even process your movement, your head bolts upright so you’re sitting up straight and staring at the screen in front of you both with a rigid posture.

“You good?” he asks.

Feigning your best smile as your heart rate comes down from its high, you stutter, “Oh uh yeah.”

But as he starts the movie and becomes entranced by it with a childlike wonder and sparkle in his gaze, you can’t help but glance at him every now and then. As you find his eyes, butterflies take off in your stomach. This can’t be right, can it?

Vernon helps you over to bed when the movie ends. He doesn’t blame you for falling asleep half way through. It’s been a long week and you’ve been working nonstop until movie night.

As you lay down, he pulls the covers up to your chin and brushes your jawline with his hand, causing your eyes to startle open.

His touch…is alarmingly gentle. In theory, you would be lulled into a warm sense of security, but instead, you feel the opposite. With your heart racing in your ribcage, you swallow the lump building in your throat.

There’s no way you’re in love with your best friend.

This is the kind of thing that happens in romance books or coming of age movies, not in your life.

But alas, it is true. You are in love with your best friend.

“Vernon?” you mumble.

He hums in response, and you reach your hand out from under the covers to caress the side of his face. “You’re beautiful. I hope you know.”

He chuckles bashfully, unable to control how your simple touch and words make him react. He knows you don’t just mean appearance wise. You mean in all the ways one can be beautiful.

“Good night, y/n,” he whispers, getting up to switch off the lights and gently shut the door to not startle you.

But instead of falling asleep, you sigh as you stare up at the ceiling.

Before you first moved in with Vernon, the two of you made a promise: no secrets. It was supposed to make things easier, a way to make sure that you’d both be honest to figure out if you'd be compatible roommates. Somehow, that pact slowly wove its way into everything. You’ve known his guilty secrets (not that he has many, or that they’re very…well guilty--the biggest one he has is that he stole Seungkwan’s sandwich and blamed it on Chan), his crushes, his formative childhood memories.

You have no choice, huh? You have to tell him. It’s only fair.

Trying to sleep is fruitless that night. It comes in fitful intervals, leaving you groggy and tired when the sun rises, when you inevitably give up on trying to get enough rest. Good thing it’s Saturday.

You trudge to the kitchen, deciding to make a cup of tea as you wait for Vernon to wake up. You meander around the counter in a daze, your motions almost robotic as you boil the water and find a mug.

When it’s finally ready, you suddenly don’t think this is a good idea. You can’t stomach it, telling Vernon about how you love him in more ways than you should. What if it destroys everything? Yeah, no secrets, but what about no more Vernon in your life? You can’t imagine that.

You’re just about to talk yourself out of telling Vernon the truth when you hear the door and floors creak behind you. Whipping your head around, you see Vernon coming out into the kitchen, hours earlier than he normally wakes up.

“We need to talk,” you both say simultaneously.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to speak, but when neither of you laugh at your synchronization, you know this won’t end well.

“You first,” you murmur.

He nods as he sits down across from you at the island. “I need to tell you something.”

Trying to find the right words, he pauses.

“I…I feel something I shouldn’t for you.”

“What does that mean?” you stutter.

“Things a friend shouldn’t feel for another friend…” He hangs his head down shyly, yet almost in defeat. “And I realized I had to tell you. ‘No secrets.’”

“I needed to tell you something, too.”

“Okay…”

“I feel the same.”

You meet eyes once more, and this time you finally both laugh. You’re too in sync for your own good.

Bonus:

The sun shines brightly against the roof of the house, but it’s a perfect day. Everything is beautiful, with the flowers and the trees beginning to bloom.

You could say your romantic relationship with Vernon has also bloomed. It has been almost six months since you both first confessed, and your relationship has only gotten stronger.

The two of you sit atop your shared house, watching as your friends shuffle about the neighborhood while snacking on strawberries and apple slices, the smell of spring in the air.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you murmur, but your eyes have shifted to be on your boyfriend, who stares out at the scene before him.

“Too bad I can’t smell it,” he quips.

“Do you wanna go inside?”

“No.” He turns to face you, his gummy smile growing over his features. “I like it here too much.”

You rest your head against him. You know what he means.

You like it up here. So he likes it up here too.

taglist (send an ask or dm to be on the open up! taglist): @m1ng-how @sincerelyskye @leech4ns @cappgyuccino @babytaes @shujiloey

#caratwritersclub #ficscafe #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #seventeen vernon #mei's #m: open up!#mei.svt

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dickwheelie · 3 years

Note

i dunno how loose the prompts can be but 👉👈something with jonmartin and martin having tattoos would be fun?

martin tattoos!! I loved this prompt, thank u Moss :)

_____________

"I'm thinking of getting another one," Martin said pensively, spearing a forkful of salad.

Jon glanced up at him from across the kitchen table. "Another . . . ?"

"Another tattoo," Martin said.

"Ahh."

Martin pointed down at his forearm. "There's an empty spot here that's been bothering me. I've got the Keats quote on my wrist, but nothing on the opposite side. It feels unbalanced."

Jon would never say it aloud, but he'd never quite understood Martin's need to cover every available inch of himself with permanent illustrations. Still, he couldn't complain; it had been a privilege and a joy to see Martin's skin transform into colorful, intricate designs over the course of the past few years, ever since they'd arrived in this Other Place. It had started with orchids on his left shoulder, and then a labyrinthine maze on his upper back, and then a quote from a poet Jon could no longer remember the name of along the side of his ribcage, and after that Jon had lost track. For a while, Martin had gotten tattoos almost at a fever pitch, as though trying to race himself to some finish line, which Jon supposed must be the entirety of the upper half of his body being turned into a sketchbook. He'd settled down a bit, now; he hadn't gotten a new tattoo in months. But Jon supposed that was about to change.

"What are you planning on putting there?" Jon asked, gesturing at the blank spot on Martin's arm, which was bordered by a black-and-white illustration of a lighthouse, its beam cutting through a night sky.

"I'm not sure yet," Martin said. "I've finished up with all the fears, by now." That had been one of Martin's major projects; he'd wanted to get a representation of every fear they'd faced and defied somewhere on his body. Jon, once again, didn't pretend to understand his reasoning, but he'd supported him nonetheless, and the day Martin had finally gotten the Lonely tattoo done, they'd celebrated together. "Any suggestions?" Martin asked him.

Jon chewed his dinner thoughtfully. He couldn't think of anything clever, so he said jokingly, "You should get my name tattooed on you. I know we promised we'd stay together, but if anything will make sure that'll happen, it's that."

Martin didn't laugh, which wasn't entirely surprising; Jon knew his and Martin's senses of humor didn't always click. What was surprising was the look he gave Jon, which was part confusion and part amusement.

"What?" Jon said with his mouth full.

"Jon," Martin said slowly, "I do have your name tattooed on me."

Jon's eyes went wide. "What?"

Now Martin did laugh. "It was one of the first ones I got done! I can't believe you didn't notice--"

"Wh--I--You were getting so many of them, in the beginning, I couldn't keep track!" Jon dropped his fork. "Stop laughing!"

Martin wiped a tear from his eye. "I can't, Jon, you're hilarious--"

"You should have told me, I can't be expected to--This is just the sort of thing you should've told me about, Martin!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd mind!"

"Of course I'd mind!" Jon didn't know what to think. They weren't the sort of couple that got tattoos of one another's names. Or were they? "Where . . . where is it?" He almost dreaded to ask.

Martin, having composed himself a bit, set about unbuttoning his shirt.

"I don't like where this is going," Jon intoned.

"Relax," Martin said, "it's not what you think."

"Really? Because it seems like it's exactly what I think. Which is that my boyfriend got my name tattooed on his chest without telling me."

"Oh, right. I guess it is what you think, then." Martin had finished unbuttoning the top half of his shirt, and moved the fabric aside to reveal the upper left side of his chest, which was covered in numerous colorful designs. Jon squinted, but couldn't make out anything specific, so he got up and moved to stand next to Martin, leaning down to inspect his chest.

"It's just here," Martin said, pointing, and indeed it was. In a little empty pocket of skin, just above Martin's heart, was Jon's full name, printed in tiny, neat script that Jon recognized as his own. The design was tasteful, and minimalist, the letters raised just enough to be noticeable if one ran their finger across it. By now the words had faded into Martin's skin, nestled there between his freckles, and they looked right at home.

Jon was quiet for perhaps a moment too long, because Martin said, "You're not really angry, are you? I really didn't think you'd care one way or the other. You were always so casual about the other ones."

"No," Jon said at last, "I'm not really angry. It's . . ." He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. "It's just . . . that's my name."

Martin smiled up at him. "It is."

"On your skin."

"Mm-hm."

"Forever."

"Or until we have a horrible break-up and I have to laser it off," Martin said, and Jon shot him a look. "Kidding." He leaned up and kissed Jon's cheek. "I didn't get this as a promise not to leave you. I'm never doing that, tattoo or no."

Jon smiled behind his hand. "So why did you get it, then?" he asked, pulling up his chair to sit.

"You know how you used to call me your reason?" Martin said. "It's sort of like that. It's a way to remind myself that I've got you. No matter what happens, you'll be with me. We're sticking together." He patted the name on his chest. "That's why."

"Ah," Jon said, his voice thick. "Makes sense."

Martin gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm not getting it removed."

"I know that," Jon said, and Martin grinned. As he started to button his shirt back up, Jon said, "You still are, you know."

Martin glanced up distractedly. "Still what?"

"My reason," Jon murmured, and Martin's hands stilled on the last button. "You said I used to call you that. Which, yes, I suppose I don't say it as much anymore. But it's still true. Always has been."

Martin stared at him for a moment, and then leaned suddenly forward, taking hold of the sides of Jon's face and kissing him within an inch of his life. "You romantic little shit," he said when they pulled apart, and Jon laughed, holding onto Martin's shoulders as he peppered Jon's face with more kisses.

"I'm not the romantic one," Jon said. "Who has whose name tattooed on whose chest now?"

"Alright," Martin conceded, "we'll call it even."

There was a moment of tired, pleasant silence.

"Wait," Jon said, remembering, "we still haven't decided about your new tattoo."

"Oh, right, that," Martin said. He waved a dismissive hand. "I'll just get another Keats quote. Or maybe Oscar Wilde. Change it up a bit." He glanced sidelong at Jon. "Or maybe I'll get the words His Reason done in a certain someone's handwriting--"

"Not on your life," Jon deadpanned, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face when Martin laughed.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #gwyneth writes

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houseofdabs · 3 years

Note

fic idea: lester and jonesy scramble to get ingredients and find the recipe for the cake momma always used to bake the twins on their birthday. they are inept.

THIS IS SO CUTE AAA !!

warnings: slight mentions of abuse ---------------------------------------

Lester knew how his older siblings didn't really care for birthdays --at least not Bo-- it was kind of a sensitive topic as most familial holidays were for the Sinclair siblings, seeing as they lacked the proper warmth that their parents should have offered. The only semblance of affection was bestowed onto Vincent, being as he was their mother's favorite, and in turn, their father's as well. When holidays came their parents did attempt to share the sentiment with their two other kids, but it was stark in comparison to what Vincent received; it was like they were dogs receiving scraps while the real family sat at the table and enjoyed their meal. Thinking about it made Lester upset and he didn't like to dwell on it too much, he was determined to pick up the slack from his parents and reinstate the feel good emotions that holidays should have brought.

Now how was the question, and a damn good one at that. It wasn't that Lester wasn't good at planning things, he was quite good, in fact former partners always boasted about how thoughtful he was when it came to things like this. But this time was different. Sure he loved the ones that used to be in his life, but these were his brothers who he knew might not react positively to it, he didn't want to dig up any bad memories. And yeah, people liked parties and having things given to them, but when you grow up expecting that same loving hand to strike you, it's hard to cherish the good when you know terrible is right around the corner. It hurt Lester that his brother's couldn't appreciate even the smallest things, and it made him hate his parents for making it that way, but he would never mention it to the other two.

That's when he remembered his mom's old recipe book, she was a horrible mother but a damn good baker, and if he was right he'd be able to find that one caramel cake recipe she always made for his siblings on their birthday. He'd set out to get the ingredients, they were on a budget but Lester had set aside some money to get the good stuff, anything for his brothers. All he needed was some company.

Jonesy.

Pup at his feet and directions in hand, Lester sought to set everything out, he had borrowed some cook ware from the house but he'd bring it back when he was done, maybe not clean but returned. He was confident as he measured out the ingredients but with each step he followed his faith wavered. "Y'know girl, this'sa LOT harder than I had reckoned." Lester looked down as Jonesy who just stared up at him with her head tilted.

Determined, Lester continued on whisking and adding and folding till his arms were sore, his mama made it look so easy. He was so caught up in his stumbling over the batter he completely forgot about the beast that would be the icing, and just like with the batter he shook off any concerns, how hard could it be?

He set the ingredients in the pan to melt and went back to pouring the batter in the cake pan before setting it in the heated oven. Directing his attention back to the icing, he noticed it had melted all together and he checked the instructions for what to do next. "Okay girly, it says-- TWO HOURS?" His eyes bulged as he stared down at the paper, he hadn't remembered it taking that long and he didn't have the time to wait.

"Okay y'know what we're g'na do? Not that," Lester set the paper down and turned the eye up to a higher degree, "if it's hotter it'll cook faster, now ain't I smart?" He chuckled as Jonesy barked a response. "You said it sister."

Lester watched as the contents of the pot bubble as it turned a caramel color, stirring it occasionally. He decided to put on some records to help pass the time as he waited for the cake to bake. "S'too quiet," He muttered and cranked the knob to his old boombox as the voice of Merle Haggard flowed from the speakers and into the small kitchen, "there, thas better." He looked at Jonesy before patting his chest, and invitation for her to jump up and dance with him. He held the dog's paws as he swayed and sang along.

"♫ A workin' man can't get nowhere today ♫"

He grinned and stepped with the dog, "Ain't that right Jonesy girl!" Jonesy barked and Lester howled, encouraging her to make more noise. He was having such a good time with his dance partner that he forgot about the now burning icing on the stove. "Shoot!" Lester hissed and raced to stir the liquid and take it off the eye. It was a dark brown and Lester only hoped that it wasn't too bad cause he had used everything he bought and he didn't have enough to remake it. He could only hope that he didn't also mess up the cake.

Equipped with a butter knife, Lester opened the oven and stuck it in the middle of the cake before pulling it out, something he'd seen his mom do, except he didn't know what to look for. He noticed how the top was cooked and it was squishy when he pressed into it, so he pulled it out. Soon the cake was covered in the dark caramel icing and he swore at himself for lacking his mother's artistic ability, wanting to decorate the cake but deciding that he didn't want to mess it up further. He let the cake cool as he gathered everything in his truck, making sure to remember his brothers' presents.

He had gotten Bo a portable jump starter, something he had seen someone use when he was stuck on the side of the road. Lester knew the battery on Bo's truck had seen better days and he for sure didn't want his older brother stuck somewhere. And for Vincent he knew he had to get him this old brush carrier he had seen while he was browsing some antique shop, he even managed to sweet talk the lady up front to hold it for him till he could afford it. The holder was sturdy and made out of leather that had softened from years of use, on the back had flowers and leaves carved into it, nothing too 'pretty' but something artsy that he knew his brother would like. He had also snagged some whiskey while out shopping, hoping that it would help with the nerves of them all.

Once everything was packed in his truck, Jonesy included, he set off to Ambrose, careful to not hit any bumps and disturb the dessert that sat between him and the animal. He said a silent prayer as he crept towards the washed out road, hoping that no one was at Ambrose besides his brothers, that'd be a real thorn in his side and would surely ruin his plan. As he drove through the town he breathed out a sigh of relief as he noticed nothing out of the ordinary, even better that Bo was too busy in his garage to pay any attention to him as he drove by and up to the house.

Lester was careful with taking everything in, not wanting to make too much commotion in case Vincent was up in the house and not in his workshop. Finally everything was set in the kitchen, he even cleaned up a little, more in compensation for taking and making a mess of the dishes but he wanted it to look a little nicer. He was giddy and he didn't know what to do next, did he get Bo or Vincent first? He really hoped they would like it, he would understand if they didn't, but he really did want today to be good for them. He decided to put on some music to drown out the silence the house held, it always unsettled him how quiet it could get.

Soon Lester was accompanied by the sound of Johnny Cash's 'Big River' and the house felt less vacant, he knew his brother's liked different types of music but they never grew out of their taste of the old country tapes his parents had. For a second he wondered if maybe the music might throw everything off, remind them too much of ma and pa, but he pushed the thought down when he remembered how well Bo and music paired after a few drinks.

After he decided everything was ready, Lester headed off to the House of Wax first, seeing as Vincent would listen to him if he asked him to wait in the living room whereas Bo would demand to know what's going on. Jonesy pranced alongside him, her collar jingling softly as she bounced with each step. "Hey girl, you excited?" He asked as they stopped outside the House of Wax before leaning down to pet her head. Jonesy barked and her tail wagged as she basked in the affection Lester was giving her.

The two were in and out quick, Lester telling Vincent to wait for him in the living room and leaving before his brother could respond. It had been easy but he knew getting Bo to come without question would be harder. As he and Jonesy walked to the gas station he went over in his head how would ask Bo without giving away too much, did they even know it was their birthdays? Lester stopped in his tracks.

Did they even know it was their birthdays?

Surely they had to, if they did they hadn't said anything about it. It made him sad when he thought about how it meant nothing to them, but to him it was the biggest day ever, it was the day two of the most important people came to be, two people he loved so much it hurt. He'd be damned if he let his parents continue to torment his brothers from the grave, to hell with them, Lester and his brothers were better without them and he'd show them.

With new found confidence he marched to the garage where his older brother was, head ducked under a hood of some car doing god knows what. Without looking up Bo called to him, "Hand me that wrench will'ya?" He extended his hand and waited for Lester to drop the metal tool in his hand before continuing to tinker with the vehicle. After a few beats Bo addressed him again, "Wha'cha want? M'busy."

Lester wrung the hem of his shirt in his hands as his mind scrambled to find what to say, finally settling on "I need ya up at th'house, got sumn to show ya." He turned on his heel and made his way back to the family home, ignoring Bo's demands for an answer. "I guess you'll have t'come and find out I s'pose!" He hollered back at his brother.

Upon entering the house Lester saw Vincent sitting on the couch, waiting like he expected him to be. Not too long after Lester came in Bo followed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at both of his brothers. "Kay what? Th'hell you drag me up here for? Wha'cha gotta show me?"

Lester motioned for them to follow as he led them to the kitchen, Jonesy racing to be in front of the brothers, evidently more excited than the three men. On arrival Bo asked again what was going on and Lester so badly wished his brother had more patience. "Well..." He had started as he glanced between his brothers and then towards the pan that sat on the kitchen table. "Happy birthday?" Automatically Bo let out and groan and Lester had to move to stop him from leaving.

"You dragged my ass all the way up'ere t'tell me that? I'on got time fer this shit, told'ya I was busy." He stared down at his little brother before watching as his twin inspected the pan, peeling back the foil to reveal a cake, or something resembling a cake-- was it a cake? The fuck Lester bring with him?

Vincent turned back to dig through a drawer, grabbing a cake cutter and some plates from a cabinet. Lester stared at his feet as he shuffled slightly, embarrassed from the rejection. "Might not be good but I made a cake, got y'all sumn too.." His voice was small as he spoke to his brother, avoiding eye contact as he lifted his gaze.

Bo's face fell from anger to neutral as he watched his baby brother fidget, obviously upset from his reaction. "Shit, what th'hell, I reckon I could use a break." He ignored how fast Lester's expression lifted and instead head towards the table where the cake laid, "This car'mel cake?" Bo's eyebrows shot up and Vincent handed him a plate, he was shocked, he didn't know Lester was able to make it. He cut him a nice sized piece with his fork and shoveled it into his mouth.

Okay maybe he got ahead of himself with assuming.

The cake was mealy and the icing was burnt, the fuck did Lester do to this poor cake?

Lester watched as Bo stood there, a bite in his mouth but now chewing. "Well.. i'shure ish a cake" Bo muttered from behind the ruined dessert, trying to not hurt his brother's feelings too bad.

"Oh." Lester felt his shoulders slump and he held back a sigh, he had really really wanted the cake to be decent, "Y'ain't gotta eat it f'is bad.." He mumbled and watched as Vincent chewed his bite very slowly. Bo was quick to swallow, spitting it out would be too rude and he didn't think he could handle his little brother being more upset from the gesture. "Tasted like shit," he laughed and raked his plate in the trash before making his way to Lester, "well, it wasn't that bad but.." he paused, "but I sure do 'preciate it.." Before he could give it a second thought, Bo engulfed his little brother in his arms for a short embrace which Lester was quick to reciprocate. After a little Bo pulled away.

"So, what was that 'bout you gettin' us sumn?"

------------------------------

i didnt do much to correct any errors, its super late, hope yall enjoy it

#oooo this shit got me so soft #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #jonesy sinclair #house of wax #bo sinclair fluff #vincent sinclair fluff #lester sinclair fluff #house of wax 2005 #slasher writing #fluff #sinclair brothers #sinclair siblings #sinclair twins #houseofdabs writing #asks

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troubatrain · 3 years

Text

the times with a little secret...

two blurbs following want you to want me

read the rest here!

You were late.

Historically, as someone who got their period at the same time every month, it was concerning. You counted on your fingers, taking yourself back to a time Matthew was awfully convincing and you slipped up. You were sitting out of the same dock you kissed him for the first time on, Matthew’s stupid smirk and overgrown curls were really all it took to make you forget all about the fact that you weren’t using protection. You sigh, holding back tears and running your hands down your face.

Matthew wanted to be a father, but talking a bunch of shit when he was in a sappy mood and actually having a baby were two very different things. You’d been together for two years, and in that time you’d grown up together, but children just seemed like something you weren’t ready for yet. He had so much to work for still, and so did you.

And when you finally got that test, the little pink plus sign broke you. You were pregnant, and you were all alone in Chicago while Matthew got a few things ready before he headed to Calgary for the season. Matthew would call soon, just like he always did on his ride home from the rink.

Matthew knew something was wrong, just by the first crack in your voice when he answered. You’d been crying and he was going to figure out why. He scratched his face, eyes staring at the road in front of him while a part of him debated how quickly he could get to Chicago, “You alright pretty girl?”

“Yeah, everything’s just, fuck, fine,” You say, wiping away your tears and knocking that test to the floor. You weren’t convincing by any means, and Matthew saw through every facade you had, “I’m fine, really I just, uh got to go-”

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, push you a little hard to tell him what’s going on but before he had a chance you hung up the phone. He hit his steering wheel, frustrated that you weren’t telling him the truth when that was the promise you both made. He wondered if he’d done something wrong, but for once in his life Matthew really thought he was innocent.

So he drove the four hours.

It took him a little longer than expected, but Matthew knew what he had to do. He turned his car in the opposite direction of your house, heading up to Chicago without a second thought. It was seven by the time he’d gotten there, opening the door to an empty apartment and a pit in his stomach he couldn’t quite explain. He searched the place, looking for something to point him in the right direction as to why you were acting so weird on the phone.

You went running, you didn’t know what else to do so you just ran. If you kept going you wouldn’t have to face the reality that there was a person growing inside of you and your entire life was going to change. It didn’t stop your mind from racing, thinking about having to tell Matthew and how you were going to tell your families. He wouldn’t leave, you were almost sure of it, but what if he did? It was all you could think about when you walked back into your place, your eyes catching a familiar tuft of curls in the living room.

Matthew was standing there, the entire apartment filled up with bouquets of flowers because he couldn’t pick just one. He was happy, eyes brimming with tears when he finally saw you because this was going to be a moment he never forgets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You breathe out, feet planted to the floor because you just couldn’t process this fast enough.

“I knew something was up, and then I found the test in the bathroom,” Matthew explains, stepping across to the room to stand in front of you. His hands were on your cheeks, his thumbs gently grazing over the skin, “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more, but babe, I think I do.”

“I’m really scared,” You whisper, letting Matthew wipe away your tears.

“I’m sure you are,” Matthew hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. You found out alone, Matthew was miles away and he knew you were probably freaking out, “I’m here now, we’re together, and it’s going to be okay.”

You smile at his optimism, the way no matter what Matthew would tell you that he would always be there and he’d go to the ends of the earth to fix whatever made you upset, “You sound so sure about this-”

“You’re the best teammate I’ve ever had,” Matthew was sure of himself when he said it, “And I don’t want to do this life thing with anyone else.”

“We’re having a baby,” You nod, Matthew’s hands falling to your stomach and resting there gently, “I’m happy you’re on my team.”

“I’m happy too, captain,” Matthew winks, playing into that same silly joke he always made about how he was just along for the ride, “Can we keep it a secret for now? Just our little family?”

Our little family. The words felt so right when you heard them from Matthew, your arms wrapping around his waist so you could press your head against his chest.

“Brady’s going to give you so much shit for knocking me up.”

“Oh I know, it’s going to be brutal, but worth every second Mama.”

***

Daddy’s hiding something from you.

You stop, turning your attention to your three year old who was sitting at the kitchen island playing with a Cheerio that was in his bowl. Max talked a lot for his age, and it came with a bad habit of repeating his father’s colorful language. Another thing was Matthew couldn’t sneak anything past you because of Max, who was just as nosey as you were, and Max ratted out his father every chance he had.

“What’s daddy hiding from me?” You ask, watching the way Max turned his attention to something else because he was in cahoots with his father and swore he wouldn’t tell a soul, “Maxy-”

“No, daddy told me not to tell you, not even for chocolate,” Max crosses his arms, standing his ground as much as a toddler could, “He said, hide this until I tell you Maxy, but don’t tell mommy.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head and wondering what the fuck your son was hiding that you hadn’t found yet. Your attention turned to the sound of your front door opening, Matthew barreling in post practice with a smile on his face like he wasn’t turning your son into a stealth liar and it would end up biting you both in the ass when he got older. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, sneaking behind Max and kissing him too. The two of them looked like twins, the same mop of curls on their heads while Max’s dimpled smile appeared the biggest when he was with his dad. His nineteen chain hung around his neck, Matthew’s gift to his son because you both wore it and he hoped Max would too. He was Matthew’s carbon copy, down to his ability to sneak things past you and cause chaos.

“Max was just telling me you’re hiding something from me,” You smirk, leaning against the counter and looking at Matthew, “Care to explain?”

“Dude,” Matthew scoffs, looking at Max, “I thought we agreed this was a no telling mommy deal?”

“Like when we get ice cream after my skating lessons?” Max asks, turning his head to his father. Matthew threw his head back, sighing at the fact that you definitely weren’t going to say yes now.

“I knew you weren’t hitting traffic every week,” You sigh, giving Matthew a look, “No bribes for hockey, we talked about this.”

And you did. Sometime before Max was born you both had a lengthy conversation about the whole sports thing. One professional athlete for a parent would be a lot for a kid, let alone two, and you both promised you wouldn’t push your own agendas too hard. Did you cheer a little louder at Max’s soccer games? Maybe. But, at least you didn’t bribe him with ice cream on the way home.

“Hey buddy, remember that thing I told you to hide? Can you get it?” Matthew ignores your lecture, knowing fully he wasn’t listening anyways because Max was made to skate. Matthew helped him down, smiling at the toddler who was bound for the playroom you put off cleaning, that’s why you didn’t find it.

“You’re not off the hook for the ice cream, why are you looking at me like that?” You stop, remembering the way Matthew looked at you in your apartment filled with flowers after he found out you were pregnant. It was the same look, blue eyes soft and full of admiration, “Matty-”

“I know we did this a little backwards, and I wanted to wait until your parents were in town to celebrate, but Max has got a mouth like yours,” Matthew starts stepping over to you and putting his hands on your cheeks, “But that’s my point, I love that Max is just like you because you’re the best person I’ve ever met in life. You’re the most amazing mother to our son, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the way you handle parenthood with more grace than I could ever have. And to me, god, you were everything I ever wanted when we were kids Y/N, you know that? You still are, and you’re always going to be. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to watch you shine, and take you home at the end of the night. I told my mom I’d marry you one day, I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance.”

By the time Matthew had finished his speech, in the middle of your kitchen in Calgary while Max’s cereal was thrown across the counter, your son had come back with a velvet box in his hand. He handed it to Matthew, climbing on Matthew’s leg because he had no clue while his father was down on one knee, but you knew, “Go ahead little dude, you can ask her now.”

“Mommy, will you marry daddy?” Max asks, giving you the very best smile your three year old could come up with. You could tell they practiced this, only solidifying the million reasons why you’d say yes.

“Yes,” You nod, covering your mouth while tears were brimming your eyes. You look at your two boys, who both looked at you like you put the sun in the sky just for them. Matthew let Max down, pressing a kiss to your lips like he wasn’t in the room.

“I love you,” Matthew breathes, pressing one more peck to your lips, “Wifey sounds good doesn’t it?”

“It does,” You hum, admiring the ring Matthew slipped on your left hand he left vacant for a little too long. Life was hectic for you, but he was tired of waiting for the right time when he knew he had the right girl the entire time. You pressed one more kiss to Matthew’s lips, hearing a protest from the little boy below you.

“Ew, that’s gross.”

“One day you’re gonna like a girl this much and Uncle Brady and I are going to make fun of you for it Maxy.”

#matthew tkachuk #blurbs #want you to want me blurbs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #i'm not saying these are my favorite but i cried while writing both

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Sleepless Nights (Kageyama Tobio x Reader)

Anonymous said:

Hi hi hope you're doing well! I was wondering if I could request a fic with giving kageyama a blow job for the first time? You can take it further if you want, whatever you want! Love your writing 😊

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Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,973

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (male recieving), language, Kageyama being a perfect angel baby.

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I didn’t think that I was a simp for Kageyama but like maybe...?👀👀👀 I hope that you guys like it! It was a lot of fun writing lmao. Also bonus points if you can catch the reference I made😂 I’m still shuffling through my inbox, I won’t be doing all the requests that have been asked but I will still be doing a select few. Please enjoy:)

~~~~

You shifted nervously in your seat, weakly smiling at the orange haired male that was blatantly staring you down.

This was incredibly awkward.

“Stop staring at her dumbass!” Kageyama growled, setting down his milk cartoon to slap the middle blocker, who easily dodged his advances.

“Why are you dating Kageyama!? He’s a bad guy!” Hinata yelled getting in your face.

“OI!” Kageyama grabbed the back of his uniform, yanking him away from you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his statement, a bad guy? Kageyama was far from it.

“I really like him.” you blurted out, pausing their fighting, the tall setter looked at you with a shocked face, blush coating his cheeks in embarrassment. Hinata on the other hand looked mortified at your statement. “He’s very kind and strong.” you finished, glancing down at your bento, now you were embarrassed at your confession.

“He’s not kind at all! But he is strong! His tosses are the best!” Hinata declared, returning his attention to his large sandwich.

Kageyama ignored him, his blue eyes focusing on you completely. You guys had only been dating for a couple of weeks but… those past couple of weeks he’s never been happier.

You were in the same class as Yachi, but the store that he went to often was the same store that you worked at part time. Before you knew it, a friendship began to blossom between the two of you, and then you guys literally ran into each other during a morning run.

Come to find out that you guys went to the same school and were in the same year. Although, you were completely unaware of the tall male and his club activities. You were on the swim team, on the complete opposite side of where the volleyball gym was.

But after that friendship began to bloom, something new took its place. Something more vibrant, and far sweeter.

You were the first one to confess your feelings, despite the nerves, despite the fear that he wasn’t going to feel the same. You knew how hard he worked at volleyball, you figured that he wouldn’t have time in his life for a girlfriend, but the secret ate you up inside. When you had confessed, you were already prepared for the rejection that he would give you, only it never came.

He liked you too.

Naturally you guys began dating, and it was pure heaven. Despite his awkwardness, things slowly became more natural. It wasn’t until now that he started to introduce you to his friends.

Hence the strange interaction you just had with the middle blocker.

“Is Y/n-chan going to come to the game tomorrow?” Hinata asked with his mouth full of food.

You perked up at that, beaming at the small male. “I am! It’ll be my first time seeing a volleyball game! I’m very excited.”

“Eh!? You’ve never seen a volleyball game before!? What have you been doing!?” Hinata exclaimed.

Kageyama scowled at him. “Y/n isn’t a volleyball player. She’s on the swim team, she doesn’t have time to focus on volleyball like you do dumbass.”

Before another fight between the two began you started talking. “I’ve never been interested in the sport. I’ve always been really busy with swim meets and fundraisers. But when Tobio talks about volleyball it sounds like a lot of fun! Your team sounds so strong!” You said brightly.

Kageyama felt his heart thump harder in his chest at your praise. The clear happiness and excitement on your face was undeniably adorable.

“What do you do when you swim Y/n-chan!?” Hinata asked excitedly.

“I only swim free.” You said proudly, grinning at the smaller male. “It’s the only style I swim during meets.”

“She’s really good too.” Kageyama stated, thinking back when he had gone to his first ever swim meet. You were incredible in the water, breathtaking. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you swam, you were elegant and beautiful, your movements gliding through the water easily.

He had never seen anything more perfect before.

“I don’t know what that means but it sounds cool! You’re cool Y/n-chan!” Hinata said brightly.

You couldn’t help but grin back, all traces of awkwardness gone now. “Thanks, Hinata!”

Lunch ended without a hitch now, the conversation was easy with Hinata, despite the constant fighting, it was incredibly fun.

Before you could head back to class Kageyama grabbed your hand gently. He stared off into the distance, blushing softly as he glanced over to you quickly.

“Will you wait for me after practice?” he asked.

You squeezed his hand carefully, ignoring your racing heart. “Of course! Let’s walk home together Tobio.” you smiled sweetly.

He nodded once before releasing your hand and walking off; Hinata was already long gone by now.

You smiled softly to yourself, the tall setter had a hold on your heart like no other. You couldn’t wait for the game on Saturday.

****

As promised, you stood outside of the volleyball gym, kicking lightly at a rock near your foot.

“Y/n-chan!” you heard a familiar voice call out, you looked up smiling at the orange haired male jumping and waving his arms around, several others looking at you in curiosity.

“Shut up Hinata! Boke!” Kageyama growled grabbing his head. After a couple of shoves, Kageyama made his way over to you.

“Ready?” you asked sweetly, beaming up at the tall setter. He felt his face flush but nodded, reaching to carry your bag.

“Yeah let’s go.” he said, slugging it over his other shoulder before taking your small hand into his own.

“What? Is that Kageyama’s girlfriend?” Tsukishima asked, intending for it to be a joke.

“Yeah! She’s super cool!” Hinata said excitedly. “Y/n-chan is on the swim team! She only swims free! Whatever that means!”

“... WAIT WHAT!?”

“KAGEYAMA HAS A GIRLFRIEND BEFORE ME!?”

“BUT SHE’S TOO CUTE!”

“THE UNIVERSE HAS FORSAKEN ME!”

“SHUT UP AND GO HOME EVERYONE!”

“... Yes Daichi.”

****

Kageyama couldn’t help but notice that your hand was cool, and that your hair was still wet from your swim practice.

“Are you cold?” he asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You shook your head. “I’m fine. Besides, we're already at my house.”

You looked up at the dark-haired setter who was scratching the back of his head, not meeting your gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, finally looking at you, his face slightly flushed.

“Bright and early. You’ll do great.” You smiled, hands resting on his uniform. “Sleep well?”

He nodded and stooped down as you stood up on your tiptoes, his slightly chapped lips gently brushing against yours before sealing your lips in a gentle kiss goodnight.

This wasn’t your first kiss with Kageyama. Surprisingly, kisses came incredibly easy for the awkward setter. He loved how soft your lips were, and how he could taste the melon lip gloss on his lips afterwards.

Your heart raced in your chest, and you were tempted to pull him in deeper, wanting the kiss to develop more and last longer, but all too soon he pulled away, giving you a soft smile before taking his leave.

That boy was going to be the death of you.

The rest of the night progressed uneventfully, and you soon found yourself freshly showered and ready for bed.

Practice must’ve been incredibly draining for you, because as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out cold.

It had to be at least three in morning when your phone began to ring. You sleepily fumbled around for it before squinting at the bright screen.

Kageyama.

“Hello?” you answered, voice thick with sleep.

“I’m sorry for waking you.” he said softly. “I just couldn’t sleep. Is it okay if I come over?”

“Yeah. Let me open my window.” you mumbled quietly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, turning on your bedside lamp before shuffling yourself out of bed to open the window.

This also wasn’t the first time you’ve done this either.

Even before you guys had started dating, Kageyama frequented your bedroom many nights to hang out.

You could barely keep your eyes open as you waited for Kageyama to show up, it had been about fifteen minutes before you saw a familiar figure slip through the open window and quietly close it behind him.

You gave Kageyama a sleepy smile from your bed, noticing his grey sweatpants and black pullover. He looked good, incredibly good.

You hadn’t noticed his sharp intake of breath. Kageyama swallowed thickly as he took in your sleepy appearance. Your hair was tousled from sleep, the baggy white shirt did nothing to hide your hardened nipples that were now straining against the thin fabric from the frigid air. Your soft legs were incredibly exposed to his eyes and… oh fuck, your pink colored panties were on full display now.

“Why can’t you sleep?” you asked, yawning, stretching your arms above your head. This caused your shirt to pull up more, revealing the delicate white bow on the front of your panties.

Kageyama couldn’t tear his eyes away, his pants tightening ever so slightly.

“T-Too pent up for the game tomorrow.” he said, finally snapping his eyes away from your figure.

His palms were incredibly sweaty at this point, blood roaring in his ears as he attempted to calm his racing heart.

“I see.” you said tiredly. “Well we can play a game on the console until you feel tired.” you stretched your body out on the bed as you reached for your side table drawer, your upper body lying flat, your bottom swaying slightly in the air.

Kageyama’s eyes zeroed in on your ass, the panties hugging your cheeks perfectly, and the urge to grab at those perfect mounds of flesh caused his fingers to twitch at his sides.

This definitely wasn’t good, because now he was pent up for an entirely different thing.

“Here it is.” you mumbled to yourself, completely unaware of the internal conflict that was going on in front of you. You looked over at him, sitting up on your knees and patting the spot next to you on the bed. “Come here.”

He sat down next to you stiffly, carefully resting his back against the wall.

“Get comfortable Tobio.” you said in amusement, yawning once more. He nodded robotically as he situated himself a bit better on the bed, making sure to rest his legs in a position that prevented you from seeing the increasing tent in his pants.

You handed him the game, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling him stiffen slightly before relaxing as he started playing.

He had only begun playing for a couple of minutes before your eyes began to droop in exhaustion, you wrapped your arms around his bicep as you settled against him comfortably.

But he could feel your breasts pressing into his arm, his character dying in the game as he started to focus more on you.

While your relationship was still relatively new, you guys definitely weren’t strangers to cuddling or gentle touches.

Kageyama was definitely familiar with the desire that was now coursing through his veins. The first time he had experienced this was the first time he had gone to your swim meet. While the swimsuit that you wore wasn’t necessarily the most flattering thing, you were definitely beautiful, and the revealed skin of your body did something to him.

“Y/n,” he whispered, causing your head to jerk up as you were startled awake. But before you could even process what was happening, Kageyama tossed the gaming console at the edge of the bed, twisting his body slightly as he moved to cup your face, and pressing his mouth against yours.

A noise of surprise was made in the back of your throat, but you kissed him back. Arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pulled him into you. The tiredness you were feeling began fading away, want and need seeping into your body now.

The kiss developed quickly, your tongue carefully tracing his lips before they parted in surprise. Your fingers were twisting in his black hair now as you pulled him in deeper. Your tongue massaging his, in a hot, slippery mess.

One of his hands rested on the side of your neck, keeping you to him, while the other was placed carefully on your waist.

This wasn’t enough though. You needed more. Carefully you swung your leg over his hip, maneuvering yourself so that you were now straddling him, your core pressing directly into his crotch.

And that's when you felt it, a growing hardness that began pressing against you in your most intimate areas.

Kageyama ripped himself away from your lips, his expression dazed as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I-I’m sorry.” he breathed out.

You ignored him and carefully grinded your hips down against him, wanting more. A choked sound escaped his swollen lips, his hands darting out to grip your hips tightly, preventing you from moving further against him.

“What are you doing?” he panted, his pants were incredibly tight like his chest as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Let me.” You whimpered, tugging at his hands. “Let me help. Let me take care of you.”

You scrambled out of his lap, his face confused and dazed as you settled yourself between his legs. Your hands gently ran up and down his strong thighs, you could feel the muscles flexing under your sweet touch.

“You want to sleep right? I’ll make you tired.” You whispered and started tugging at his pants. You didn’t know what came over you, but all you knew was that you wanted to see Kageyama unravel before you. You wanted to hear more of those noises escape his lips.

“W-Wait.” he grabbed your hands, staring at you with wide eyes. “Are you… what are you -” “trust me.” you interrupted him, “I’ll make you feel so good Tobio, please?”

The pleading that was escaping your lips made you feel a bit pathetic, but that feeling was overshadowed by the complete need to make him feel good.

He stared at you for a bit longer before nodding, his hands released yours as you pushed his pullover up slightly, working his pants and underwear over his hips and then… fuck. Your mouth watered at the sight. His member contrasted beautifully with the hard lines of his lower stomach; the splatter of dark hair caused your stomach to twist pleasantly. Carefully, you wrapped your hand around him, the skin soft and hot beneath your fingers.

Kageyama’s breath became more labored, coming out in short and quick pants. His eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

You stared in awe as you began stroking him up and down carefully, his cock pulsing in your hand.

You wondered… your tongue darted out, flicking softly at the swollen head, tasting the bitterness of the leaking precum.

A strangled groan escaped Kageyama’s mouth, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist. Your eyes flickered up to look at him.

Fuck. You had always thought that Kageyama was beautiful, but this time.... You wanted to burn that image of him into your mind forever.

His eyes were half-lidded, the pupils blown completely, sweat stuck to his skin causing his hair to cling to his forehead. His cheeks flushed a beautiful red, his lips parted and swollen from his constant biting.

He was perfect.

You ignored the hand that was gripping your wrist and lowered your mouth further onto the head of his cock. He flinched, body shuddering as you started sinking down lower. Your mouth was like a furnace, hot and wet, Kageyama didn’t think he could get any harder than he was.

“W-What are you doing?” he choked out, reaching to pull you off his member. “Y-You shouldn’t put that in your -” you started swirling your tongue against his head. He whimpered loudly, biting at the neckline of his pullover, muffling the sounds that started to pour from his lips.

You started moving, slowly dragging your mouth up and down, your tongue dragging against the underside of his cock. You continued this movement for a moment, before increasing the pace, and sucking harder.

His hips thrusted up in a short and tight movement, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gagged at the sudden touch, felt tears sting at your eyes, but it was worth it.

His long fingers carefully reached down and dragged gently against your cheek, he was staring at you, pleasure contorting his face beautifully.

“You’re so pretty.” he breathed out, his breath getting caught in his throat as you began flicking your tongue rapidly against his head now.

“I… ngh… I’m not - not gonna last… l-long.” he stuttered out. His cock throbbed violently in your mouth, and then you began to feel thick spurts of cum hit your tongue, you hummed softly at the taste of him, easily swallowing his load down your throat.

Carefully you pulled your mouth off of his softening member, watching him as he struggled to breathe, his eyes were screwed shut still, his brows furrowed.

“Tired?” you asked softly, your hand gentling rubbing against one of his locked thighs. His eyes fluttered open, staring at you in awe. He nodded softly before tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his clothes.

He held an arm out to you wordlessly, your body easily tucking into his side as you guys laid on your bed. His scent wafting into your nose, causing your eyes to flutter shut, you were tired now too.

“I think… now I’ll be able to win my game tomorrow.” he said quietly after a moment.

Your lips twitched into a smile as you pressed your face deeper into his chest.

“Go to sleep Tobio.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama smut #kageyama fluff #reader insert #request #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #imagines #haikyuu kageyama #fluff #smut

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

man’s world ~ harley quinn;birds of prey

word count: 1965

request?: no

description: every bad guy in town is after harley quinn after the announcement of her breakup with the joker, but harley is about to make a very powerful friend to have on her side

pairing: harley quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of murder

masterlist

There was no need in counting the money given to me. I could tell by the size of the tack that it wasn’t enough. “You stiffed me again.”

Roman rolled his eyes at me. “I told you I’d pay for a clean kill, that wasn’t a clean kill. You’re lucky I paid you at all.”

“What do you mean? How can a kill be any cleaner than arsenic poisoning? I even framed that chemist guy that had a grudge against the target, it’ll never be traced back to you.”

“Sorry, did I say clean? I meant I wanted a messy murder. Your plan was smart, but I love the theatrics of it all. Next time, I want a show.”

I rolled my eyes and started to walk away. I really wished I could find a new employer. Roma was the absolute worst boss. He was an asshole misogynist that overworked and underpaid me. But he had a lot of leverage on me, what with me being his hitwoman and all, so until I could find a new employer, I was basically bound to Roman.

“Wait!” Roman said. I sighed and turned back to look at him. “I do have a pretty big job for you. If you do this, I promise you I will pay you in full. A large sum, too.”

“I’ve heard that before, Roman,” I said and turned to walk away again.

He stood from his desk and quickly approached me, grabbing my arm to stop me. I raised an eyebrow and yanked my arm away. Most people were too afraid of Roman to behave like this around him. However, most people weren’t his hitwoman, meaning they didn’t have the dirt on him that I did.

It was a balanced relationship we had, whether Roman wanted to admit it or not.

“I mean it, (Y/N),” he said. “This is a big job. If you do this, I will pay you double, no triple the original price of this hit.”

I should’ve walked away, I could’ve walked away. Roman wouldn’t stop me if I did. But I couldn’t lie, the money sounded good - if Roman actually gave me what he was promising this time.

I sighed and motioned with a hand for Roman to go on. He smiled like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Do you know who Harley Quinn is?”

~~~~~~

It didn’t take long to find where Harley Quinn decided to live after the Joker kicked her to the curb. It was severely under protected, unless you classified a sweet Asian man as “protection”.

He tried to stop me as I made my way to Harley’s apartment. “Who are you?”

“I’m an old friend of Harley’s from Arkham Asylum,” I responded. “I wanted to surprise her, I just got out.”

“She’s not home right now.”

“Even better! It’ll be a big surprise!”

I hurried away before he said anything else. I knew he’d be suspicious, but I trusted him to not tell Harley I was there.

I picked her lock and let myself in. The moment I stepped into her apartment, her pet hyena sat up at attention, assessing the stranger that had just entered his home. I pulled the hamburger I had bought from the bag in my hand and offered it to the hyena. He raced over and excitedly gobbled down the food.

I knelt down to pet his coarse fur. “Good boy. I’ll take you in when I finish with this job.”

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait for her long. Shortly after my arrival, the sound of the doorknob turning alerted myself and her hyena that she was back. I pointed the gun as the door swung open. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

“Hello Harleen.”

Roman’s words - “I want a messy kill” - echoed through my head as I pulled the trigger. Harley quickly jumped to the side, just narrowly avoiding my bullet. She dove behind her couch and I continued to shoot bullets into it, causing feathers and fluff to fly into the air. Harley’s hyena let out a laugh-like bark that was drowned out by my gunshots. When my clip was empty, I quickly changed it to a full one.

Knowing that the gunshots would’ve alerted Harley’s landlord, I quickly crossed the room to her open door and closed it, locking the door and even breaking the knob a little for good measures. I wasn’t going to let this job bust, not with so much money on the line.

“Look, whatever Mista J did to you, I’m sorry!” Harley called from somewhere in the room. “Haven’t ya done your research? He brainwashed me! I only did what he said cause I thought I loved him!”

“Joker never did anything to me,” I told her. “I’m just here on someone else’s behalf.”

“That’s a long list to narrow down,” she responded. “Mind giving me a hint? Maybe an initial?”

I traced her voice to a desk that was turned to face me. This wouldn’t have normally been suspicious, if it weren’t for the fact that the desk was pushed right up against a wall, rendering it technically useless. In the small slit between the bottom of the desk and the floor, I could see Harley’s colorful shoes peaking out.

“Actually, I have a message from him,” I said. “Roman says ‘Good Riddence.”

She must’ve known I had found her, as, just before I pulled the trigger, Harley jumped up from under the desk, successfully launching it at me. The sudden movement startled me enough that my shot lodged itself in the ceiling instead of in her head.

“Oh, Romy!” Harley exclaimed. “Couldn’t even be bothered to come kill me himself? What hurts!”

She dove behind another plush chair as I took another shot at her. I exclaimed in frustration and went to approach the chair. Before getting close enough, Harley raised her hand, which was now holding the white t-shirt she had arrived in.

“Truce!” she called. “Just for one minute, give me a truce. And then you can decide if you want to continue with your killing. I won’t stop you, you ain’t the first to try and off me today.”

Against my better judgement, I sighed and shoved my gun back into the waistband of my pants. “You have five minutes to say your piece, Quinn. I have a lot of money on the line here.”

She popped up from behind the chair like a Whack-A-Mole. She was now in a plush, pink sports bra, her suspenders pulled over it now instead of the white t-shirt she was holding in her hand.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to cash in on a good paycheck,” she said. “I wanted to get a look at ya for a minute. You know, without the bullets and whatnot obstructing my view. I wanted to see if I recognized ya.”

“Why would you recognize me?”

“I frequent Romy’s club a lot. I think he only tolerated me because of Mista J, which would explain why he sent a hitwoman after me when I announced our breakup,” she explained. “You do look familiar. Do you frequent the club, too?”

“I don’t tend to talk with Roman about business in public. It’s not exactly the smartest move.”

“I suppose not, but I’m sure I’ve seen your face there before.” She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Oh! I know! You were there the last time I was! I broke a dude’s legs and you were talking to Romy at the time!”

Oh wait, she’s right. I was there that night.

I could remember well: I had just finished a job. Roman had called me to his club for my payment. I guess he knew I wouldn’t lash out in front of all those witnesses when he stiffed me again. I was furious when he handed me less than half of what he had promised. That job had almost gotten me killed, but he viewed that as a failure. He told me he was debating not paying me at all, but knew I’d walk if that was the case.

His smug as smile as he walked away still infuriated me to that day. I wished I had punched him right in his stupid fucking face, made a scene in his club and announced to the world that Roman Sionis had hired a killer to take down the people he didn’t like. I’d go to prison if it meant Roman went with me.

“Man, you were angry,” Harley said, leaning her arms against the chair and resting her head in one of her hands. “What were ya talking about? Did a hit go wrong or something?”

“Nearly,” I responded, looking away from Harley so she wouldn’t see my anger again. “Listen, I gave you five minutes and they’re almost up, so maybe you should - ”

“He stiffed ya, didn’t he?” Harley cut me off. “I bet he does that a lot. He doesn’t exactly treat his female employees all that nicely. You heard the stories from that singer he has? The Canary? I can’t believe she quit working for him and made it out alive.”

She almost hadn’t. I had to save her ass from Roman that night. It was the night I almost walked out, too. The first time, anyways.

“He’s a misogynistic prick,” Harley hissed. “Thinks women are objects that should be beneath him. I don’t know why you let him treat you like dirt when you do all the dirty work for him. You should be the one stiffin’ him for cash!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” I told her. “Being the killer for hire for Roman Sionis, he has too much dirt on me. If I tried to leave, or if I did anything he didn’t like, he could ruin my life in a second. I’m stuck with him until I can know for sure that I’m safe.”

“How do you know you wouldn’t be safe with me?”

I scoffed at her question. “You’re wanted by everybody - every villain, every hero, and every regular pedestrian. You don’t have the Joker to protect you right now. You’re a walking target, being with you is the unsafest place to be.”

“Safer than with Roman Sionis,” she said. “Sure, I can’t pay you top dollar for killin’, but I like to get my hands bloody myself. I ain’t here for this hitman/hitwoman shit. You and I, we could do some serious damage together.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like her proposal. Even if it would land me in a world of danger, working with Harley Quinn was a lot better than having to work for Roman Sionis anymore.

“The two of us alone, no matter how powerful or how...psychotic, are not enough to go up against Roman,” I told her.

Harley smiled brightly, knowing that what I was saying was technically an acceptance to her invitation. “Way ahead of you sister! I’ve already recruited Romy’s ex-Canary, and that legendary Crossbow Killer. We’re puttin’ together our own little girl gang.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Sounds like you were prepared for this.”

“Let’s just say, you’re not the first person Romy has sent after me.”

I had a feeling there was a reason Roman didn’t warn me about the first person sent after Harley Quinn.

She approached me and threw an arm over my shoulder, as if we were magically best friends. I looked at her close proximity before looking back up at her smiling face. “I could kill you right now, you know.”

“I know, but you won’t,” she said. “We’re best friends now, and we’re gonna take down Roman Sionis together.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her as she said this.

#Harley Quinn #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn imagine #margot robbie #margot robbie imagine #margot robbie x reader #birds of prey #the emanciption of harley quinn #suicide squad #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

Note

13 for the prompts? (If it hasn’t been done yet) with obi wan and qui gon because yes 💜

I sure can! Thank you for the prompt! // From these prompts.

So I think I'm going to actually write a prequel chapter (or 2) for this fic later, so keep an eye out for that!

Anyway, here ya go:

---

As a Jedi connected to the Living Force, Qui-Gon has greater respect than most for life — human or otherwise. So for a practitioner of the Living Force, it is a little unusual for him to feel this homicidal.

No, Qui-Gon has rarely felt rage quite like this.

Of course, he does not want the people… No, wait. "People" is too kind of a word for them. He does not want the vermin slavers who did this to his Padawan to die. He just wants them to suffer for a bit. Suffer like his Padawan is currently suffering — and maybe a bit more after that.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan screams, pulling on the restraints holding him in place on the bed. Neither Qui-Gon nor Vokara Che had wanted to do this — not after Obi-Wan had just been freed from chains — but he was clawing at his skin and objects around the room had started floating with every aimless gesture of his hands. “Please, Master, let me go,” he begs, his voice raw from screaming.

“Soon, Padawan, soon,” Qui-Gon soothes. “The drugs just need to work their way through your system.”

The logic was lost on Obi-Wan. The young man before him, just barely 18, looks as though he has been betrayed.

“Let me go. Please let me go. I need to stop it, I need…”

“Stop what?” Qui-Gon prods, hoping that humoring his padawan will help him work through it faster.

“Stop him.”

“Who?”

“The man!” he says it plainly like it is a well-known fact who the man is.

“What man?”

“The man with the scar on his eye.”

Qui-Gon tries to think through everyone he knows. He can’t think of a single person with a scar on their eye.

“What is the man’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says, frustration mixing into the fear that hangs potent in his Force presence.

“Why do you have to stop him?”

Obi-Wan stops straining against his bonds and his eyes clear momentarily. The sudden stillness feels heavy — like something lying in wait.

“He will tear everything down,” Obi-Wan turns to look at Qui-Gon and his eyes are clear and certain. “Everything.”

A chill runs down Qui-Gon’s spine.

Then the fog returns. Obi-Wan strains against his bonds once more.

“Let me go. Let me out. I’m not supposed to be here!”

“You are exactly where you need to be, my Padawan.”

“No no no no no.” There is a crazed look of hysteria in his eyes. It is so unnatural an expression for his Padawan, Qui-Gon almost cannot bear to look. But he looks anyway because he swore to stand by his Padawan’s side through all things, even this.

“Stop!” Obi-Wan screams. “Stop it! Please! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Qui-Gon shifts uncomfortably. “Who are you talking to?” he asks.

“You were my brother!”

What?

“You… Obi-Wan, you don’t have a brother,” Qui-Gon stutters. Who is he talking about?

Obi-Wan tosses his head to the side and then tosses it again until he’s looking at Qui-Gon.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan yells.

“So there’s been no change huh?” A female voice cuts in.

Qui-Gon jumps. His attention was so fixed on Obi-Wan, he didn't notice Vokara Che slip into the room.

“What the hell did they drug him with?” Qui-Gon growls, his anger threatening to spill over at just the thought of the slavers and what they did to Obi-Wan.

“We’re still running tests on his blood. But we narrowed it down to some sort of hallucinogen.”

“I could have told you that,” Qui-Gon mutters.

Vokara fixes him with one of her strongest glares.

“Apologies, Master Che,” he amends. “I am just concerned for him.”

“I know,” Vokara says. Qui-Gon is grateful that she does not tell him to release his anxieties to the Force. He is not quite ready to part with them yet.

“Do you have any idea how long this will last?” Qui-Gon asks, hoping this nightmare will end soon.

“It’s hard to say. It depends on his body and how fast it works through the drugs. Hallucinogens can last six hours or they can last as long as fifteen hours.”

“It’s only been three hours,” Qui-Gon says, feeling sick at the possibility of his Padawan enduring this for twelve more hours.

Vokara squeezes his shoulder in sympathy. “He’s a strong boy,” Vokara said. “A strong young man, I should say,” she adds on. “He’ll make it through this. I can’t say for certain without knowing what exactly is in his system, but most hallucinogenic drugs don’t cause any permanent damage.” “Most?”

“What I’m saying is that I think your Padawan will be okay. I have him on an IV so he won’t get dehydrated, which is usually the biggest concern with hallucinogens.”

Qui-Gon turns his attention back to Obi-Wan. Sweat has matted his hair and his skin is a sickly pale color. His screaming has turned into sobbing.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cries. He pulls at the restraints. “I don’t like these.”

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Vokara says calmly. She runs a scanner over Obi-Wan’s body and looks at the readings. Whether it is good or bad, Qui-Gon is not sure. Her expression gave nothing away.

“If anything changes, please come get me,” Vokara says.

Qui-Gon nods. “Of course.”

Vokara takes her leave and Qui-Gon gives his undivided attention to Obi-Wan.

“Let me go,” Obi-Wan begs again.

“I can’t,” Qui-Gon says. “You heard Master Che. It’s for your own safety.”

Obi-Wan groans. “What is happening to me?”

Qui-Gon’s heart feels like it is breaking open in his chest.

“I’m so sorry that this is happening to you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says “You’ll be okay soon.”

“But what’s happening?” Obi-Wan asks. Qui-Gon is hopeful that this moment of partial clarity lasts. Obi-Wan has been giving him false hope over the past few hours. Moments of clarity, all chased away by delirium.

“You’ve been drugged,” Qui-Gon says.

“Oh. I feel weird. I feel… not good. Hot.”

“Do you want some water?” Qui-Gon asks.

Obi-Wan looks like he’s going to answer, but his eyes glaze over and he is no longer looking at Qui-Gon.

“I keep seeing…”

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asks.

“I see…”

“What do you see, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asks, hoping he’ll be able to help Obi-Wan realize his hallucinations aren’t real.

“No!” Obi-Wan screams.

Qui-Gon’s hope vanishes. With a sigh, he begins stroking Obi-Wan’s sweat-drenched hair, smoothing it out from all of his tossing and turning.

Hours of begging and screaming and pulling at restraints pass until it seems Obi-Wan’s body is exhausted beyond its limits. His howls turn to whimpers. His sobs turn to hitched breaths. And finally, he passes out. Qui-Gon sighs a breath of relief and prays to the Force that when his Padawan wakes up, he will be his Padawan once more.

***

Qui-Gon can sense Obi-Wan coming back to consciousness before he even notices him stirring. He squints at the bright light of the room and groans.

Obi-Wan tries to move his arm but is held back by the restraints still keeping him down. Panic sets itself in Obi-Wan’s widened eyes.

“Why am I… M-Master?” His chest heaves with growing panic and he starts pulling at the bonds with renewed vigor.

“Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. It’s me. You’re alright,” Qui-Gon says, moving into his line of sight. Obi-Wan stares at him, unblinking and terrified. “What do you see right now?”

Obi-Wan hesitates. “I see you. I… I see this room. There’s not much in it.”

“Okay, good. Can you take a few deep breaths for me while I got get Master Che?”

“You’re leaving?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice going an octave higher.

“Only for a moment. You need to get looked over before I can let you out of those things,” Qui-Gon says, gesturing to the restraints with disdain.

Obi-Wan eyes the restraints and nods his approval.

Qui-Gon races out to find Master Che and she follows him back to Obi-Wan’s room.

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Vokara says in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

He nods glumly but does not offer her much else.

“All right, well I’m just going to perform a quick examination okay?”

Obi-Wan nods his consent and Vokara gets to work.

“I’m going to take these restraints off of your hands and ankles all right?”

He nods vigorously and Vokara undoes the buckles. When his hands are freed, Obi-Wan rubs his wrists. They’ve been chaffed raw and the skin is an angry red.

Vokara does not judge. She does not say a word about the welts. She simply takes a jar of bacta gel and rubs it on Obi-Wan’s wrists.

“Those should feel better in a few hours,” she says. Vokara follows the gentle administration with a blood sample. She runs a scanner over his body.

“Your vitals are normal, which is a good sign,” Vokara says. “I’m going to run your labs, and after that, we can see about letting you go home to rest.”

No protests, no haggling, no complaints come from Obi-Wan at the prospect of staying in the halls of healing even longer. Even Vokara raises an eyebrow at this.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” she asks. “Any nausea? Headache?”

“A little,” he says softly. Vokara exchanges a glance with Qui-Gon at the admittance.

“That’s pretty normal,” she says. “Is there anything else bothering you? Any other pain?”

“Just tired.”

“That’s to be expected after what your body has been through.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to run these labs, but let me know if your headache gets worse or if you feel like you need to throw up.”

He nods obediently.

Vokara leaves Qui-Gon alone with his Padawan.

Obi-Wan’s face scrunches up in concentration.

“What is it, Padawan?”

“There was something… something important…” Obi-Wan starts. Some of his earlier panic starts to return and his chest begins to heave. “I saw it. I just… I don’t know...”

“Hush, it’s alright. None of it was real,” Qui-Gon soothes.

“No!” Obi-Wan says forcefully, and for a moment, Qui-Gon worries the drug has not completely left his system yet. “It was… it felt…”

“How did it feel?” Qui-Gon asks.

Fear, sorrow, and anguish all flash across Obi-Wan’s eyes. His fingers dance in a nervous tapping pattern on the frame of the bed.

“How did it feel?” Qui-Gon asks again.

Obi-Wan stops tapping his fingers.

“Like the end of all things.”

The young man is still, as though he is afraid that the next move he makes will set his visions on a path to fruition.

“You need to stay grounded, Padawan. Stay in the here and now.”

Anger flared in the Force — white-hot and foreign.

“Oh yeah? You try to stay grounded after you get kidnapped by slavers and then drugged with some unknown substance that makes you question everything you see and feel,” Obi-Wan snaps.

Qui-Gon gives him a moment. He needs a moment.

Obi-Wan’s face crumples and he buries his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice muffled by his own hands. His shoulders shake. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, Padawan. You’ve been through a lot in the last 48 hours. I will not fault you for taking a tone with me.”

Obi-Wan offers him a strained laugh and he wipes at his eyes before looking back up at Qui-Gon. “I just…”

“Tell me, Padawan. Anything.”

“Is this real?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan. This is real.” Qui-Gon grabs Obi-Wan’s hand and squeezes it. “Feel this?”

Obi-Wan nods.

“That’s because it is real. You and I. Here and now. We are real.”

Obi-Wan takes in a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Qui-Gon reaffirms.

Obi-Wan nods. “Okay.”

“Good.”

Qui-Gon reaches over and tugs on Obi-Wan’s braid.

“Hey!” Obi-Wan exclaims, rubbing his scalp. “What was that for?”

“For scaring me,” Qui-Gon says, giving Obi-Wan a faux look of reproach.

“Apologies, Master,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

Obi-Wan grins at him before yawning.

“You should get some rest.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, but he yawns again.

“You are obviously tired,” Qui-Gon says, unimpressed. “Why don’t you want to sleep?”

“I don’t…”

“Yes, Padawan?”

“If I fall asleep, will you stay?” Obi-Wan finally says, his voice quiet and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You don’t have to,” he quickly adds on. “I just. I don’t want to be alone and I’m still not sure if any of this is real and I want it to be real, but I—”

“Of course I will stay,” Qui-Gon says. “You’re real, I’m real, and I’m staying.”

“Thanks, Master,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes fluttering closed.

Qui-Gon stays and keeps guard over Obi-Wan’s dreams.

#my writing #tw non consensual drug use #tw mentions of slavery #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn

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estrel · 4 years

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Christmas, Early Mornings, and How to be Free

destiel december 2020 prompt: decorating | wc: ~1.3k

[READ ON AO3]

Dean often forgets that angels don’t sleep.

The soft knock at his door at—he checks his clock—four in the morning, however, serves as a gentle reminder.

He sits up, brushing off popcorn crumbs from his shirt, and blearily rubs his eyes. Dean hadn’t been sleeping, per se, but he was drunk and dog tired, eyes burning from staring at his TV for what must have been hours on end.

His door opens and light from the hallway streams in, bright like the white-hot burn of an angel being killed. Dean blinks once, twice, and there stands his own angel, a hand on the door knob.

“Sorry to wake you,” Cas mutters. “Ah, Jack and I were wondering if you were—if you wanted to help us with something.”

Dean looks at the clock again, more for show than to actually read the time, before redirecting his gaze back to Cas.

“It’s four in the morning, Cas.”

Cas shifts his weight. “I don’t—”

“You don’t sleep,” Dean finishes for him, already throwing the blanket off of himself. The wave of cool air over his calves where his sweats ride up make him shiver. He pulls the fabric down back over them and stands.

“Yeah, I know. And lucky for you, I barely do.” Dean comes to a stop in front of Cas. “What’s up?”

Cas pushes the door open and turns, leading the way for Dean to follow.

“Jack and I—we were discussing the bible,” Cas starts.

“As you do.”

“—And Jack was curious about how humans celebrate the birth of Christ.”

“Uh-huh.” They step through the kitchen and Dean eyes a half-eaten snack on the table. He quickly nicks it, gives it a once-over, and takes a bite. The taste of chocolate caramel nougat makes him let out a low groan of satisfaction.

Cas shoots him a glare over his shoulder. Dean shrugs.

“He told me you all celebrated it once,” Cas continues, “Along with some other holidays, though I can’t imagine how I managed to miss that. Anyway, he has friends in town that celebrate the christian Christmas, and now he’s got…um, ideas.”

Dean frowns. “What ideas?”

They round the corner into the library, where Dean’s confronted with several large boxes that are set on the nearest table. Scattered around them are various decorations like ornaments, tinsel, and what look to be Santa hats in a few different colors and patterns. Dean’s gaze pulls away from the mess to look at Jack, who has his arms elbow-deep into the box nearest to him. He smiles wide at Dean.

“You’re awake! Hey—is-is that…my candy bar?”

Dean looks down at the bar and stuffs what’s left of it in his mouth. He holds a finger up when Jack pouts, chewing until he can form words.

“Finders keepers, kid,” he swallows, “It’s a lesson you gotta learn while you’re still young. What are you doin’, anyway? What’s all this crap you’ve got out?”

Jack’s smile is back as he pulls out an ornament. “Christmas! I thought we’d decorate.”

Dean blinks at him. “Dude. Four in the morning.”

He hears Cas sigh and turns his attention to him instead. “I’m serious! You couldn’t have waited a couple more hours? And hey, wait a second—how come I’m up and Sam’s nowhere to be seen? This is, like, his usual wake up time.”

“It is,” Cas says, “He’s actually out on a jog right now, he said he’d be back to help with the baking.”

“The—” Dean runs a hand over his face, pressing briefly over his eyes to wake himself better. They’d already done Christmas this year, and all the other holidays, for that matter. Of course…

He opens his eyes.

Not with Cas.

Dean lets his arm drop back to his side and strides the few steps over to Jack, picking his favorite ornaments out of the box from when Mrs. Butters had first showed them to him. He hands a blue one over to Jack.

“Besides,” Jack studies the bulb, “We’re starting late. Christmas is only a week away, and I know people who start decorating in November!”

“We don’t even have the tree up yet,” Dean grumbles in feigned annoyance. “Hell, we don’t even have a tree.”

“Sure we do,” Jack says. He turns and points over at the table behind them. A small tree no more than 16 inches tall stands bare in the middle of the table.

Dean stares at it, eyes wandering over to Cas after a beat for an explanation. He’s standing on the other side of Jack, now, and catches Dean’s gaze.

“It’s fake,” Cas says, “We found it with the decorations. It’s…a substitute—at most—for now.”

Dean nods slowly. “Okay,” he accepts.

After that he finds the smallest bulbs that won’t take up too much space on the little thing, passing them to Cas who hands them to Jack to put on the tree. Working like clockwork, the tree is decorated sooner rather than later, and Dean straightens up in time to hear the front door open with a metal squeal.

Sam steps inside, closing the door behind him, and looks down at the three of them with a smile. He pulls an earbud out.

“Nice tree,” he says, clamoring down the stairs.

Dean, feeling strangely defensive, mutters, “Up yours,” and rifles through the box for something to fling at him. He comes up short, but Jack rids them of Sam as he bounds off to meet him in the kitchen, giddy to start on their baking as soon as possible.

Dean pulls out a Santa hat in the wake of it just being him and Cas in the room and, holding his breath, turns to place it on Cas’ head.

Cas stares as Dean slips it on, adjusting it here and there so it sits right, pulling away lest it becomes too...

Cas catches his arm before Dean can withdraw it.

“How...How come I get to wear the hat and you don’t?”

Dean chuckles, pulling lightly in an attempt to get out of Cas’ grip. Cas tightens his hold by a fraction.

“’Cause you look better in hats? I dunno,” Dean mumbles. He feels his heart racing, chances a glance over to the kitchen where he can hear Sam and Jack clanging baking supplies around while they set up to make the cookies.

His eyes meet Cas’ again, dropping momentarily to look at his lips before Dean forces them to stay on Cas’ baby blues.

“That’s not true,” Cas frowns, “You are very attractive for someone of your gender and age.”

Dean swallows hard, face warm. “Yeah?” His voice comes out higher than intended, so he clears his throat before speaking again. “Thanks.”

Cas lets go of his wrist, backing away a little. “You are welcome.”

They stare at each other, transfixed, and Dean thinks Cas looks more innocent with this hat on, more so than, say, that cowboy hat Dean had made him wear once. Almost silly enough for Dean to let his guard down, to lean forward, and—

Cas' breath ghosts over his cheek and chin in their newfound proximity, faces just a few inches apart.

Dean licks his lips, once, and closes the space between them. He presses his lips softly to Cas', trembling a little due to the action. It's chaste, and feels simultaneously like it lasts an eternity and only a few seconds—something Dean thinks only Cas is capable of doing.

And he knows, dazedly, that it's likely the latter, even if a lifetime was lived in this moment alone. Dean pulls back to stare at Cas like he just hung the stars rather than some simple plastic ornaments on a dingy fake Christmas tree, holding his breath as he gages Cas' reaction.

This close, Dean can see Cas' pupils blown wide. The angel has that look about him that Dean remembers seeing a long time ago, like a soldier with newfound freedom—unsure where to go or how to use it.

Dean licks his lips again, and though his hands are still shaking when he lifts them to cup Cas' face, he feels his mouth smooth into a smile.

He ducks his head to kiss Cas again. And again. And again, until they hear the shout that the cookies are ready, and Dean takes Cas' hand in his.

Freedom isn’t a length of rope, Dean thinks, but rather a red string, tying them together and guiding them home every time without fail. Maybe they could teach each other, this time—about Christmas, early mornings, and how to be free.

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#destiel december 2020 #another day another sucky ficlet sdhfsjdf soRRY #its hard for me to write fluff tbh bc i never know where im goin with it #destiel #rambleoncas writing #spn #supernatural #destiel fic #deancas #roc original #my post

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blissfulparker · 3 years

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Seasick pt. 10 final→college!peter parker

Pairings→college!peter x reader fake dating!au

Summary→ You need a fake boyfriend, peter has no plans for the summer, you take him on a cruise to meet your nasty family you kept a secret all these years. Faking your love as far as it will go before it snaps and it shows it’s true colors to one another under the burning hot sun and above the salty sea water

A/n→yeah so y’all can shut talk me for this taking literally FOREVER but I kept wanting to redo it and I finally found the perfect final for it(at least for me) I’m going to make the epilogue and if anyone wants blurbs based off it I can write it. But I present to you, the seasick final

Peter Parker slept like an Angel and you had never truly noticed until now. He had soft snores and little freckles painted on his face and he was yours, now he was officially yours and all it took was you begging him to come on a stupid cruise with your family you hate.

Although you wouldn’t mind if year after year you were able to bring peter along with you. He helped with the pain and god did you need all the help you could get.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles as he starts to wake up, not opening his eyes but his senses catch you staring.

“Nothing.” You smile as you only stare harder to count each freckle—even the new ones he got from this trip.

“No you’re doing something.” He opens his eyes just a bit to see you with the faintest smile on your face. You, the one who woke up every day of this trip dreading what another day would be like, smiled at him. A genuine smile as you woke up.

“Seriously, nothing!” You try to hide the smile that grows big on your face and he only grabs you by the waist, pulling you in close so he can tickle at your sides just to see you smile more.

He lets your laughs die down, seeing the real you in the morning was something so fresh to him, he loved it. You were his girlfriend. He couldn’t wait to go home and start saying that to people. After all these years all it took was a stupid cruise.

“It’s our last day.” Peter says and suddenly your smile dropped. Not because you were sad, because it was your last day and that meant having to spend it with your family.

“Right.” You sigh falling back on the pillow.

Peter looked at you like you were art, or maybe he looked at you the way he looked at the beach the other day, maybe he looked at you the way he saw you in the art gallery the second day or maybe he looked at you the way he looked at you the first day he got on this damn ship and you wore the most beautiful dress and worried about how tall you were. No matter how he looked at you it was just you, you who matter the most to him in this moment and truly every moment before.

“For as much as you hate this family, I actually kinda liked this trip.” That was particularly true, he hated being uncomfortable at dinner and your mom dropping off condoms but he was on a cruise for fucks sake and it was free.

“Peter, when was the last time you even had a vacation?” You looked over at him. Realizing your words were much harsher, you took a step back. “Sorry, I’m still...I’m still trying to get use to everything.” You admitted and he nodded.

“It’s okay,” he only planted a kiss on your cheek before sitting up. “I know.”

He sits up at the edge of the bed. Stretching a bit giving you a full view of his bare back, so toned and smooth, you really wanted to know when he got so ripped but that was a question for later. All you could do now was feel your hand move to run over the smooth of his back. You sit up as well, letting yourself sit before his back and press sweet kisses gently at his shoulders.

“Y-Your mom.” Was what he said as you kissed him. “She wants to have lunch.” He already saw the messages, last night when you were fast asleep. Face puffy from crying, he held onto you but his phone lit up with one message from your mom. The number she got from him at the beginning of this trip where you swore it would make everything more realistic to pretend you cared.

“Just tell her we’re busy.” You continue kissing at his sunburnt shoulders and in a way it hurt but felt so good to him.

He couldn’t change anything, what you had grown up with was irreversible. But peter had seen the real you, known the real you to be beyond what your family was. He knew you would be opposed to what he was going to tell you but he only wanted to help you.

“With just me.” He turned his head and you stopped your movements.

“Just you?” You furrow your brows and he nodded.

“Yeah, just me.” He sighed and you sat back a bit on the bed.

“Just tell her we already have—“ you started but peter shook his head.

“I think I should go. I-I know I can’t change anything but at least I can—“ he starts and you feel your heart race and your blood burn.

“You're right Peter, you can’t change anything. She’s an evil woman and I thought you would already have figured that out by now. Your smart, you should be smart enough to know that she doesn’t want to fix anything. When we go back in New York everything will be the same.” You fell back against the headboard and peter turned fully to you.

“But everything won’t be the same, at least we won’t be the same!” He told you and you looked at him quickly with a sigh.

“Peter I didn’t mean that way and you know it.” You feel your hands run over your face before you grab your water.

“I’m having lunch with your mother.” He said. He marked his words in the moment and you knew Peter could be stubborn and this was one of those moments.

“Peter…” you want to fight but your hand goes over the bracelet you both got the other day from the locals down by the beach. You remember as a kid, you wished one day it would be you getting those bracelets even if it was just a few pieces of string tied together. Those kids were always harmless and knew love when they saw it, maybe you and peter were still faking it in the moment but they saw more than the two of you ever did. “Just hold me.” You almost whisper and he looks at you with pain in his eyes.

“Hold me like you did in the ocean the other day.” You look up with water in your eyes and he does. His arms come around your back and he holds you as if you two were still in the ocean as if nothing else mattered in the world to you two.

You dressed Peter for lunch. You had torn apart his suitcase telling him that if he was going out there alone he needed to be prepared. For it was your mother, One may argue Thor’s evil brother was nicer than her.

So Peter tugged a bit at the buttons and waited near the entrance for your mother to arrive. He had fought aliens, witches, and even drones over one summer but feared a tiny old women who was the mother of his girlfriend.

When she arrived she greeted him with a hug, a tight one that made him gasp for air when she pulled away and she left her glossy lip print on his cheek.

Peter wished you were here, honestly he did. Your mother was beautiful on the outside but he did see the inside. So when she ordered him a wine he swallowed hard and gave a tight lipped smile thinking of what you would do.

“Thank you for inviting me on this trip.” He started it off and your mother only drank from the glass of her wine.

“We can all thank (y/n) for inviting you.” She smiled but she knew something more. “When you two first arrived I always found it interesting how she told me a different story on the phone for how you fell in love but Europe huh? She loved that trip, until of course everything turned bad.” Your mother explained and Peter felt his heart flip.

“She says senior year chem class and I say Europe, she counts from when we first started talking I count our first date.” Peter chuckles.

“Peter, I’m a lawyer, I know when even the best liars are lying to me and you and my daughter are both extremely intelligent. So let’s just tell the truth, why did she invite you? Why did she tell me she had a boyfriend on the phone? I see you two do have something but it’s almost like you don’t want it, neither of you.” She for once had a soft voice. Peter for once drank alcohol on this trip to sooth his nerves but sadly the spider venom in his blood prevented him from ever being calm.

“I-we-“ he couldn’t think of anything else, he could only think of you sitting back at the hotel laying in the bath enjoying the last moments on this trip with someone you actually loved. “She loves you a lot.” He said flatly.

“Look,” he started. “Everything she has ever done in her entire life was to impress you. Every award, every medal, every achievement she’s made was in hopes to impress you weather it was through her intelligence or through how athletic she was and now it was through love. It was like i was her last hope, but you missed out so much on her life. I say that in the best way. MJ, Betty, Ned and I all showed her what it’s like to be loved and maybe that’s why she ran to us more but she also knew it was never enough for you. I had never seen her so scared, so alone when she brought me on this trip. And I don’t know if it’s just me but she’s already the perfect person in every single way. She doesn’t know what more you want, I don’t know what more you want.” Peter finished his rant, his heart pounding and his cheeks a bit red.

“For me? Everything she had ever done was for me?” Your mother asked as if she learnt this for the first time.

“Yes, and every time you never paid attention and that broke her a bit more.” The more peter talked the more Peter hurt.

“Peter, can I tell you something?” She folded her hands and leant in. “You’re a smart, charming man. My daughter is a smart and charming lady. I don’t know if this entire time you two were really faking it, I could tell at first, trust me everyone could, but I want you to know she never smiled this much on this trip ever. And I don’t know what I’m doing so wrong when I try—“ peter felt his blood boil a bit at the last sentence.

“Be her mother, not her best friend. She wants a mother. She has MJ as a best friend who sometimes acts like more of a mother to her than you and (y/n) is three months older than MJ.” Peter didn’t break the stare as your mom looked at him in shock.

“All I want, because she will hate me more if I argue, is that you make her happy.” She sighed. Peter nodded.

The two of them are in silence, the last day on the cruise and peter was eating in silence with your mother after practically telling her how shitty she was.

After the check and your mothers hug goodbye, peter was back walking up to your room. Hoping he wouldn’t see anything more as he just wanted to relax. Maybe today he’d finally get that mug for May that he lied about but god felt so guilty. He lied about bigger things but the ones he loved...he had no idea how you did it. But you never lied to Peter, keeping him from the truth and lying were different.

“And he’s a really good kisser…” he stopped before he opened the door. He could hear you giggling on the phone with who he assumed MJ and Betty but more likely Betty.

“I just...I don’t know if I deserve him, I mean...he’s so kind and sweet and he’s peter.” There was a pause as Peter listened. “No flaws, he’s a shitty painter but I think it’s cute.” You giggled before taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hear the words on the other side before he heard you speak your goodbyes and ‘I love yous’ to them.

He waits until you seem to be settled down, he opens the door and reveals you on the floor painting your toes.

“Hey,” you look up at him with a smile. “How was lunch with my mom?” You asked and he only shrugged. Something washed over him and compelled him to sit next to you and kiss your cheek.

“Was fine, I drank a lot of wine but it was fine.” He shrugged and you looked up with a smirk.

“So I’m getting drunk Peter right now?” You teased and he shook his head.

“No, no.” He watched as you painted with the color blue. “She said she’s proud of you.” He admits. Never directly did she say the words but he knew deep down she wanted to but didn’t know how.

You look at him with a stare, knowing he was lying but he was trying for you.

With the silence in the room, peter gets up from his spot and walks over to pack some of the last of his things. By tomorrow morning you would say your goodbyes to your family and head back to New York. Back to your friends and family. You would stay with MJ for the summer but hopefully, with the new relationship, peter could convince you to stay with him and May.

“Hey Peter,” you look over your shoulder. “Thank you.” You tell him. Not sure if you ever told him thank you before this.

“For what?” He folds some of his clothes and puts them back into the suitcase.

“For everything.” You smile before going back to painting your toes.

Peter has a small smile. He nods as he throws the shirt into the suitcase.

“(Y/n)?” He calls to you this time. “Thank you for choosing me. To bring on this trip I mean.” He says awkwardly and you smiled.

“This was just year one Parker, get ready for the next couple ones!” You pretend to be enthusiastic but he only laughs. “Sorry we never got to do anything you wanted to do.” You apologized as you stood up. Looking down at the red painted toes and being careful to let them dry.

“No we did.” He smiled and you furrow your brows.

“Like what?”

“I was with you, that was something I wanted to do.” He was a dork in the best ways. He was your dork in the best of ways. You don’t think you had given this many genuine smiles while on this cruise ever.

“Hey,” you poked his shoulder. He hissed a bit as his sunburn still was there. “We can technically go to the couples pool, they’ll give us free chocolate strawberries. You wanna go?” You offer with a smirk. With all the things you’ve done pretending to be a couple this would be the first real couple thing you did.

“Hell yeah!” He says with a laugh and you do too.

So you get on your bathing suits one last time. One last time on this damned cruise would you put on your bathing suit and actually smile. Not drinking the last of your night away alone in your room.

Peter's arm snaked around your waist as you two walked down the hallway. Sharing laughs and you leaning against his shoulder as you two made your way to the pool where you would sit in a hot tube while eating cheap chocolate strawberries and drinking shitty wine.

While the bubbles roam around you in the hot tub and you and peter finally settle down with your laughs he only stares into your eyes.

“Hey.” Was all he said and you felt yourself feeling shy in front of him.

“Hi.” You said back and his lips connected with yours.

For a week straight of lying, tears and alcohol, and a shit ton of secrets getting exposed to each other. You and Peter made a pretty good couple. A couple that didn’t need to be faked anymore even if it made everyone sick, you found your love in the sea. You found him and he was perfect.

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#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fic #peter parker au #college!peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #imagine peter parker

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punkrockmads · 3 years

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Found Family

Abby Anderson x F! Reader Mini Series

FINAL CHAPTER

Song Used: Dear One, Mary Lambert

Chapter Fourteen; Dear One

*TWO YEARS OLD*

"I look ridiculous." I groan, adjusting the pale blue dress Kayla had helped me fix up a few weeks ago.

"You look beautiful." Kayla assures, running her hands down the lacy sides to smooth them out. I look at myself in the mirror. I have to admit, the dress is very beautiful. A beautiful ruffled skirt and rose patterned lace sides and metal buttons along the back, all a soft periwinkle color. I even let Kayla put a small braid in my hair on the right side, tucking it as well as the rest of my hair behind my ear. Kayla stands beside me, pulling me into a hug. "This dress really suits you." She says.

"I never thought I'd be getting married." I say with a nervous laugh. "I didn't think weddings were still a thing after the outbreak."

"Yet here you are." Kayla smiles. "You're about to marry the love of your life." I smile, feeling my hands shake.

"I'm nervous. Why am I nervous?!" I laugh. "I shouldn't be nervous!"

"Awww!" Kayla chuckles. "You're just excited! It's adorable!" She fixes her hair, loose strands of red falling out of her ponytail. The pink sundress she wears is the same style as the small white one she found for Evangeline.

"I can't wait to see Abby." I sigh, hugging Kayla. "Thank you for everything. You've planned an amazing wedding, Kayla."

"I'm your best friend!" Kayla smiles. "It's my job!" A knock at the office door pulls our attention toward it. Lev stands there wearing the same suit he wore when Evangeline was born. Kayla fixed it up so it would fit him better, seeing as it was too long in the first place.

"Y/N!" Lev smiles, running up and hugging me. "I'm here to walk you down the aisle!"

"Oh God it's already time?!" I feel my heart race in my chest, reaching into my pocket for the yellow paper I had written my vows on months ago. "Okay okay. Let me just go over these one more time."

"Nope!" Lev links his left arm with my right. "We're going now!" I turn around to look at Kayla. She gives me a warm smile, grabbing a bouquet Evangeline had helped her make.

"I'll see you out there!" Kayla whispers, hugging me tightly before walking out the door and around the corner.

"Lev." I mumble, staring straight ahead as I slowly walk with him out the door. "I'm terrified."

"Don't be." Lev says, squeezing my hand. "Remember, it's about you and Abby. Everyone who's here is here because they love you guys. They support you. You and Abby are the only people that matter right now, so just pretend it's only the two of you in this church."

"You're right." I nod, taking a deep breath. The music gets louder as we walk closer to the doors of the main room. She Keeps Me Warm by Mary Lambert. A song Abby and I have slow danced to a million times. "Thank you, Lev."

"You're welcome." Lev says as we stop right before the doors. "Ready?" I nod again, pushing the doors open and walking in with Lev. The flower petals Evangeline had thrown earlier litter the dark wooden floor. All of our friends and neighbors turn to watch. I can feel their stares, but the only stare that matters to me in this moment is Abby's. Her eyes are locked on mine, a huge smile on her face. I feel myself tear up, seeing how beautiful she looks. She decided to wear a suit that matches Lev's. It fits her perfectly, making her look like as incredible as a marble statue. A tear falls down my cheek as Lev lets go of my arm, standing me right in front of Abby. I take her hands in mine.

"You look beautiful." Abby whispers, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"You should see yourself." I whisper back, laughing quietly.

"Mommy!" A familiar squeaky voice calls from the front row. Evangeline wriggles her way out of the arms of Kayla's little sister, running towards me as the crowd laughs. I bend down and open my arms for her as she runs into them. I lift her up, holding her close as Abby and I pepper her face with kisses. "Can I stay?" Evangeline asks, wanting to stay close by her moms.

"Yes you can." I nod, smiling as I set her down by my feet. She sits cross legged beside me, watching as Abby and I listen to Kayla's mother, Eileen, speak a bit about the two of us. I can't tear my eyes away from Abby's, feeling so safe and at home here with her. The whole world seems to disappear when I look at her. I don't even notice Eileen say it's time for vows until Abby lets go of my hands, pulling a piece of notebook paper out of her pocket.

"Okay." Abby sighs, her hands shaking. "Y/N..." She looks at me with so much love and joy. "When we first met, you were floating down a river trying to figure out how the hell you were going to survive. And when I saved you, you threatened me. Even though you had no weapons and you looked like a half-dead drowned rat." Abby and I laugh at the memory. "That's when I realized 'Oh fuck, I'm falling in love!' Then you trusted me, you came home with me and let me give you safety and food and comfort. It kinda felt like bring a wild animal into my home for the first time."

Abby's chuckle is cut off by a sniffle. "When you woke up screaming one night after a nightmare and asked me to stay with you, I knew I wanted to protect you and do anything I possibly could to make you happy and give you the life you deserve just like you've done for me. You've been through so much and you're still the strongest woman I've ever known. You gave me your heart. You've shown me a love I never thought I deserved until I met you. Fuck, you even gave me my own family! I wanna spend the rest of my life loving you and treasuring every single moment I have with you and our family. I love you so much." Abby wipes her tears away as I reach into my pocket for my vows.

I wipe my own tears away as I look at my writing. "Well." I pause, chuckling a bit. "I mean how the hell am I gonna top that?" The guests and Abby laugh at me as I take a deep breath. "I'm not great with words or romance... or people, really. But, when I met you, I felt this comfort and love I had never felt before and it made me want to try to love people again. When I told you about my past, you didn't judge me. You supported me every step of the way and stepped in to raise Evangeline as our baby. You are my angel. You are my savior. I..." I sniffle, wiping away more tears. "I should probably get to the vows before I start sobbing." I laugh. "Abby and I fell in love with Mary Lambert's music after I forced her to listen to it with me and... one of her songs has always stuck with me and made me think of her. So... Abby, I'm gonna use it as my vows to you, if that's okay." Abby laughs quietly, nodding and urging me to continue.

I take a deep breath. "Where did you come from, bright star? What heaven did you leap from, dear love? How can I say your name without the sound of Autumn underneath my tongue? Without acknowledging the lovers who bent me in half? Bless them for bringing me to you. How can I say your name without also breathing the words 'My God, I found you!'" I pause, taking a deep breath as I feel tears pour down my cheeks. "How can I ever speak again with this mouth when it has found where it belongs? When you touch me, I am a bed of calla lillies. I will make a house for you and fill it with evergreens. I will paint sunsets on every wall so you can only see beautiful things." Abby watches me, sobbing quietly as her smile grows even bigger.

"How can I say 'love' without wanting to fold myself into you like a thousand paper cranes. Dear one, I was halved the moment I was born. The other piece of me is inside of your mouth. And I was found whole the moment you spoke." Every single eye in the room is teary, Abby full on sobbing as I pull her in for a tight hug. She hugs back, whispering 'I love you' over and over into my hair as she holds me in her arms.

"That was absolutely beautiful." Eileen says to us, wiping a few of her own tears away. "Now. If there are no objections, let's continue. Abigail, do you take Y/N to be your wife, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Abby pulls away, locking eyes with me as she squeezes my hands. "I do." She nods, smiling at me. Her eyes shimmer, full of pure love.

"And Y/N..." Eileen pauses. "Do you take Abigail to be your wife, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"Damn right, I do!" I grin, squeezing Abby's hands as I nod at her.

"By the power vested in me. I now pronounce you, Mrs. And Mrs. Anderson. You may kiss." I waste no time grabbing Abby by her shirt collar and pulling her in for a long, passionate kiss. She immediately kisses back, her arms wrapping around me as the guests cheer. We pull away once our lungs are screaming for air, pressing our foreheads together.

"Holy shit." I whisper, chuckling with Abby as I look into her beautiful hazel eyes.

"Holy shit." Abby repeats, laughing harder. "I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too." I reply, kissing her once more. We pull away in surprise when Lev yells.

"Party time!!" Lev cheers, waving his hands in the air. He runs towards us, wrapping his arms around both of us as I pick up a giggling Evangeline. Kayla follows close behind.

"Group hug!!" Kayla yells, squeezing us. I wrap an arm around Abby, resting my forehead against hers once more.

"I love you guys so much." I smile, finding comfort in the arms of my loved ones. Abby gently puts a hand on the back of my neck, gently guiding me up for one more kiss. I let my eyes fall shut.

"We finally made that last name official." Abby smiles against my lips once we pull away.

"Yeah." I hum. "We finally did."

END

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #tlou #lgbtq #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #lev tlou

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years

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Words: 6,377 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, gore, death, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. And this part was getting HELLA long, so I ended up cutting it in a different place buuuuut that means you'll probably get the next chapter a little sooner! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The communities strike at The Saviors.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Everybody knows what they’re supposed to do?” Rick glanced around one final time at all of you gathered together. The air was tense and silent. He nodded. “Alright. Then let’s get this done.”

The crowd broke up a little chaotically as everyone headed to their positions. You watched with some apprehension, wondering just who was leaving now and wouldn’t return… Your reverie was broken by Aaron who ran up and grabbed you into a tight hug. Eric appeared shortly after.

“You be safe,” Aaron said, squeezing you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and returned it, shutting your eyes and hugging him back extra tight.

“You too. Both of you.”

Eric grabbed you next and seemed to give you an extra-long squeeze. “Go be your badass self, okay?” he said as he finally broke apart from you. “And we’ll see you back at home.” You nodded and gave his shoulder one last affectionate pat.

“Take care of each other,” you said, drinking in the sight of the two of them, your brow furrowed with worry.

They nodded earnestly and you exchanged a few more words of parting before they headed to their assigned cars. You watched them climb in, your stomach turning with anxiety.

You felt gentle fingers on your lower back and knew immediately that it was Daryl. You spun to face him and your worried expression was reflected on his face. “This is it,” he drawled.

“Yep,” you agreed with a nod.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip. “Wish we didn’t have to be apart for it,” he said quietly.

“I know. Me too. But we both have to play our roles, right? We’ve got jobs to do.”

He nodded before glancing around briefly and grabbing your hand. “C’mere,” he said, tugging you a little way away from the crowd to a more secluded spot. When he spun around again to look at you, you could truly see in his blue eyes how uneasy he was. He clasped your face and drank in the sight of you, trying to draw strength from the way you were looking up at him. He pulled you in against him with the other hand, light on your lower back. He gave you a pointed look. “I’ll see ya after,” he said vehemently.

You nodded again, gulping at the tightness in your throat. “After.”

Daryl leaned down and heatedly pressed his lips to yours, setting you ablaze. His tongue flicked across your lower lip and you parted yours to allow entrance for him, kissing him back feverishly, your arms looped around his neck as you arched into him. When Daryl’s lips finally softened, he didn’t pull away completely. You both were out of breath and off-balance from that kiss and he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes shut, just breathing you in for a moment longer, feeling you solid beneath his hands.

His blue eyes finally opened and met yours again and now he felt braver, stronger.

“Daryl,” you said, not meaning for it to come out in a whisper but it did. “I love you.” Your eyes flickered between his.

He couldn’t help how his lips curved into a small smile when you said that, every time. He clasped your face again in both hands, looking deeply into your eyes, memorizing the flecks of color. “I love ya, too.” He’d gotten better at hearing it and at saying it. He pressed one more urgent kiss to your lips and then laced his fingers with yours. The two of you headed back out to depart for battle.

Rosita strode over and held her hand out to you for a fist bump. “Ready, chica?” she asked.

You nodded and gave her a small smile as you bumped her fist with yours. You had your game face on now. Any trace of worry or fear in your expression was gone. “Let’s do it.”

“Hey—ya watch out for each other, alright?” Daryl said to both of you.

“We’ve got this,” Rosita said. “Don’t worry.”

Daryl nodded and gave you one last look before heading to his bike.

You caught Rosita’s eyes. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Soon you were behind the wheel in the vehicle with Rosita riding shotgun and all the supplies loaded in back.

“Alright, let’s run through it again,” you said, clutching the steering wheel much harder than necessary.

Rosita laughed a little dryly. “We’ve been through it a hundred times!”

“I know, but—it calms me down,” you muttered, glancing over at her.

She gave you a knowing look and nodded. “I know. Okay. We set the charges—all ten—main highway and the side roads that would lead to Alexandria. Then, we get the hell out of Dodge before any potential Saviors come our way and hopefully get blown to pieces... You drop me to rendezvous with Carol and you head for clean-up duty and assistance at the outpost. After, everyone meets back at Hilltop.”

You let out a forced exhale. “Okay. Okay. We’ve got this.”

You pulled over as you arrived at the first spot you were going to wire up and both of you hopped out to grab the devices you’d built. They’d trigger if something heavy enough, like a vehicle, tripped the pressure hose you laid across the road. By the time you had them assembled and armed you were already dripping with sweat. Rosita looked about the same as you climbed back into the SUV.

You wiped a hand across your brow and glanced over at her. “One down,” you said.

“Nine to go,” she said, clicking her seatbelt and let out a nervous breath. She glanced back at the supplies stacked in the back. “Can’t believe we’re finally doing this. About damn time,” she said. “That bastard and all his assholes deserve to pay for everything they’ve done.”

You felt her eyes on your face and glanced over.

“I just want you to know that you’re one of us. Family. Totally and completely,” she said.

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at her. “Thanks. Feel like we won the lottery with Aaron finding all of you,” you replied.

“Especially, Daryl, right?” she said knowingly, laughing at your expression.

You could feel your cheeks burning with a blush. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes at her and turned them back to the road.

“You’re really good for him though, you know. In all seriousness.” Rosita watched as you just chewed on your bottom lip a bit nervously. “I’ve never seen him so happy. And that’s even with us all being right in the middle of this goddamn shitstorm.”

“Well… I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy either,” you said, feeling your cheeks redden again. You cleared your throat and laughed a little bashfully. “Alright, enough distracting me. I’m trying to keep my game face on. We’re almost at the next point,” you said, slowing the vehicle. You and Rosita repeated your set-up at all the assigned locations. At the last one she extended a fist to you again and you happily bumped it.

“See you back home,” she said. “Be careful.”

“I will.” You waved and were turning away to move your gun onto the center console when you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Carol behind you. “Everything alright?” you asked her. Rosita was waiting by Carol’s vehicle.

Carol grabbed you into a hug and you let out a small surprised noise. “Oh—th—thanks,” you said, managing to hug her back.

She gave you a fond look when she pulled back. “Come back in one piece, alright? If something happens to you—Daryl—”

“Hey. You, too,” you said seriously. “But nothing is happening to any of us, Right?”

Carol simply nodded, still looking apprehensive, and rushed back to Rosita and her vehicle to take off to their next position. You forced out an exhale as they sped off and climbed back into the SUV. Alone.

You were feeling extra anxious now. It was agonizing without any way to keep contact with everyone and you kept having flashes of almost overwhelming worry. Enough time had passed that everyone would be in the thick of things and if things were going to go sideways, they almost certainly had by now… But the revving and hum of the engine was somehow comforting as you sped toward your next location. Your plan was to a help at the spot where Aaron and Eric would be with a big group, clearing out an outpost. You had some other homemade IEDs in the back in case they were needed, but mostly you just wanted to be another gun and set of eyes.

You pushed the gas pedal down to the floor as you cruised down the highway. You were making good time when you suddenly felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You squinted up ahead and could see some obstacle in the road. You pressed your foot to the brake to slow a little, and eventually you could finally make out that it was an unfamiliar vehicle almost completely blocking both lanes. you noticed there were a few people standing on the side of the road with weapons. Saviors.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. Your mind was racing as you tried to figure out what to do. You thought you could scrape through on the edge of the lane if you were going fast enough to make yourself a hard target to shoot at or stop. But if they shot out your tire or something… “Fuck it,” you said out loud, and you moved your foot back to the gas pedal and depressed it to the floor again. The SUV leaped over the concrete, the engine roaring to life. “Come on. Come on…”

You were almost to the group of Saviors when you registered some object flying through the air, hurled by one of the men on the side of the road. You watched it as if in slow motion and by the time you realized what it likely was it was too late. All you could do was brace yourself as the grenade exploded just in front of the hood of your vehicle. The shockwave from the fireball was strong enough to blow and roll your vehicle back and on its side into the ditch in the middle of the highway. You vaguely registered the sound of screaming metal tearing against concrete, deafening cracks and crunches, and shattering glass as the SUV rolled over and over before the vehicle came to rest in the grassy ditch on the driver’s side.

Move. You have to move. Move. You couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in your ears and your vision was splotchy and blurred with dark and red spots as you tried to keep your eyes open. Your vision seemed to go in and out, blurred and then sharpening, and then blurring again. Somehow you managed to get your bearings and struggled until you could undo your seatbelt. You registered that the windshield was completely busted and you maneuvered until you could kick it out. There was so much adrenaline coursing through you that you didn’t feel any pain, even though you were vaguely aware of a decent amount of blood on your body and hands. You saw your rifle laying down by the pedals and felt for your pistol with the other hand, making sure it was still in its holster on your leg. It was.

You vaguely heard shouting coming from the direction you assumed The Saviors were in. And it was then that you suddenly remembered the IEDs in the back of the vehicle. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You scrambled to climb out through the kicked-out windshield. “Shit, shit, shit!” The devices hadn’t been completely assembled or armed, but a violent car crash like the one you had just experienced definitely was enough to fuck them up and make them unstable. You let out a groan as you climbed to your feet, keeping bent over low and trying to shelter behind the turned over vehicle even as you struggled to put as much distance as possible between yourself and it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

The crack of a gun was shortly followed by a bullet whizzing past you and you threw yourself flat to the ground and rolled over on your back so you could look back in the direction of your attackers. The tall grass in the ditch concealed you fairly well, but it also prevented you from being able to see how close they were. You were panting from exertion and the growing trickle of pain that was coming back to you now that the initial wave of adrenaline was waning made it hard to think straight. You sat up and barely peered over the tall grass, the stock of your rifle pressed into your shoulder, ready to be raised completely.

The Saviors were moving cautiously toward the vehicle, all doing their signature whistling which still sent chills through you. One was out ahead and moving in your direction. Where a moment before you had been rushing away and hoping that the explosives in the back of the SUV would remain stable, now you started wishing for the opposite. “Come on, you piece of shit. Blow the fuck up,” you muttered under your breath. You raised the rifle to your shoulder and took aim at the leader moving toward you as best you could without revealing yourself. It was still hard to see from your low vantage point on the ground, but you weren’t about to stand up and draw fire from all of them at once if you could help it.

You didn’t think they knew who you were yet, because they had shot at you seemingly to kill. Negan’s ominous words rang in your mind again, about wanting you alive.

“Why don’t you come on out?” the leader yelled, sweeping his gaze side to side as he slowly moved away from the SUV. “You’re all alone out here and you’ve got no way to get anywhere! You’re probably hurt! If you surrender now we’ll treat you reeeeeal nice. Promise!”

You heard faint laughter from the other men hanging back by the vehicle, apparently still trying to pry a door or something open to more closely inspect what was inside.

“Run, run, little rabbit! Come on!” The leader shouted again.

You were just about to shout something back, getting ready to squeeze off a rifle round, when there was another tremendous explosion and you felt the shockwave run right through you, throwing you back flat to the ground as the hot air and concussive blast rushed past. Smoke drifted over you as you stared up at the blue sky and you could hear the raining of some debris falling back to the ground.

You knelt in the tall grass and cautiously looked over at the blackened skeletal remains of your vehicle, flames still licking out from the interior. The bodies of the Saviors that had been closest to the explosion were still and maimed on the ground. You paced cautiously closer, looking for the leader, and you finally found him on the ground, flat on his stomach, apparently still disoriented from the blast, but largely unhurt.

He tried to get up as he suddenly registered your presence but you pushed the muzzle of your rifle into his back. “Where are the fucking keys to your truck?” you demanded. “Hands up! Where I can see them!”

He complied.

“Keys!” you demanded again.

“My back pocket!” he said.

“Don’t fucking move,” you growled again. You bent down and patted his pants pockets, feeling something in the left one and reaching in to pull out the keys. Just then the Savior made a quick move and pushed himself up off the ground onto his hands and knees. The movement knocked you slightly back as he bumped into your rifle. He was spinning around and reaching for a pistol at his hip when you instinctively shouldered your gun and fired. The round struck him squarely in the chest and he fell back to the ground, landing hard and lying still after a brief moment. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You bent down again and grabbed the keys you had dropped.

You stood over the dead Savior’s body and unsheathed your knife, cringing as you plunged it into his temple so he wouldn’t turn. You went to do the same to the others killed in the explosion. As you moved, you started to register that your entire body felt bruised but you stopped yourself from really looking for injuries yet. Not here. Time to go.

You rushed over to the Savior’s truck and peered in the bed, looking underneath a heavy tarp. There were boxes and boxes of ammo and a couple crates of automatic weapons. Obviously, these guys were moving merchandise to a new place when shit started to hit the fan. They’d probably just been told to watch the main road when you came along. You breathed a sigh of relief and tried to get your heart rate and breathing to return to normal. “Okay… I’m okay…”

Climbing hastily into the driver’s seat, you inserted the key and the truck rumbled to life. You turned and headed in the direction of the outpost, again pressing your foot almost to the floor.

By the time you arrived, you could tell that things were apparently over. There was no active shooting and you could see your people moving around methodically, dealing with the casualties so you weren’t adding any more walking dead to the world. You immediately shut off the engine and forced the truck into park even before it had really stopped moving. You rushed out into the maze of barricades, searching desperately for anyone you recognized. You felt people’s eyes on you as you passed them and had a sense from their expressions that you looked pretty rough. “Aaron!” you yelled. “Aaron! Eric!”

You couldn’t explain it but you felt suddenly frantic and your stomach rolled with nausea. “AARON!? ERIC?” You rushed through the debris and searched urgently. You rounded barricade after barricade but weren’t finding them and the hard pit that formed in your stomach just got heavier and heavier, until finally you rounded one last truck and saw them. You stalled and the air was ripped from your lungs.

Aaron was on the groun and hunched over Eric who was leaning up against a tree. With even a brief glance it was easy to tell that Eric was already gone. He was dead. Gone. Just like that. “No. No… No, no, no. No!” Your feet propelled you forward but you fell to your knees still a short distance away, your legs suddenly giving out. You crawled the last few feet to Aaron’s side. You didn’t want to look at Eric’s vacant expression and the paleness of the skin on his face but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it for a long time. You could feel hot tears streaming down your face and the saltiness stung. You gathered yourself enough to glance over at Aaron who was just hunched over and sobbing in agony, clutching to Eric’s hand like it was a lifeline, like maybe if he just didn’t let go then this wasn’t real. You gently pressed a hand to his back and he startled a little at the contact, apparently realizing you were there now for the first time. He straightened up slightly and the questioning look and disbelief on his face were the same you were feeling. “Aaron,” you managed to croak out. “Aaron, I’m—I’m sorry.” You could barely get the words out. You shook your head, whirling from the ramifications of Eric’s silent and still form lying there heavily. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, now completely breaking down like he was. Tears streamed faster down your face and you felt your throat constrict with emotion. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Aaron—”

Aaron’s crying began again as he looked at you and you grabbed him and pulled his head to your shoulder. The two of you were clinging onto each other and you did your best to pull yourself back together as he went to pieces. There was nothing you could tell him… You couldn’t tell him it would be okay. You didn’t know that. What could you possibly say? The love of his life was laying dead beside you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl arrived back at Hilltop and hurriedly parked his bike. The community was in chaos with the wounded being rushed for care, people searching for their friends and loved ones, and many just standing around in a daze. Daryl spotted Rosita and Carol and stalked hurriedly over to them. He accepted a relieved hug from Carol before turning to look at Rosita. “How’d it go? Any problems?” he drawled.

Rosita shook her head. “No. No problems. We got everything set up like clockwork. Only—”

Daryl’s stomach twisted. “Only what?”

Carol stepped forward again. “Y/N isn’t back yet and we were expecting her by now. And we haven’t seen Aaron or Eric either.”

Daryl felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Well, is anybody from that outpost back yet? Maybe we need to send another group up there.”

“Some of them are back already,” Rosita said. “But nobody seems to know—”

“I’m goin’,” Daryl growled, immediately turning on his heel and heading straight back for his bike.

“I’ll come with you,” Carol said, starting after him.

“No! Ya stay here and help! And if ya see Rick tell him where I went!” he roared over his shoulder.

Daryl pushed his limits on his bike, racing to follow the path you would have driven after Rosita split off from you. He spotted a column of dark smoke rising up into the air ahead and felt like a knife had twisted in his heart again. He urged his himself on even as terror about what he could find made it hard to breathe.

All he saw when he first arrived was what was left of a vehicle he knew to be yours on its side, smoldering in the ditch. Daryl gulped and tried to stop bile from rising into his throat. He climbed off his bike and grabbed his gun, cautiously and fearfully moving toward the vehicle. He stopped a short distance away, his heart pounding, and had to pace a few times, reeling, steeling himself, before he had the courage to move closer. He felt shaky as he approached the bashed-out windshield and peered inside.

He heaved a momentary sigh of relief when he saw no body inside. You weren’t in there.

But where were you?

Daryl began to look around and found some trails in the tall grass. He followed them and discovered the bodies of four men. Each of them had a stab wound in their temple, obviously to prevent them from turning.

Okay. This looked like your handiwork. The archer breathed another sigh of relief. However, he knew you’d likely been in your vehicle when it had crashed and he had no way of knowing where you were and whether or not you were badly injured. There was also still the possibility that more Saviors had arrived and grabbed you. He headed back to his bike and climbed on, deciding to drive the rest of the way to the outpost you were supposed to be heading to, keeping his eyes open for any sign of you.

He rode in strenuous anxiety the rest of the way, searching the road ahead and each side as he went, but seeing nothing that pointed to your whereabouts. When he finally made it to the outpost and parked his bike, he was relieved to see that the battle was over and clearly the Saviors had lost. There were still a few of Alexandria and Hilltop’s people milling around and Daryl started his search for you, his stomach twisting every time he came upon a body, worried he would look down and see that it was you.

He finally rounded one of the armored trucks and froze. His heart sank back into his stomach. You and Aaron were on the ground. You had your arm around Aaron and Daryl could tell he was sobbing against you by the hitched, uneven breaths he was gasping in and the way his shoulders were shaking. The reason why was perfectly clear. Eric’s pale and still form was leaned up against the tree and there was a shockingly large stain of deep crimson on his stomach.

Daryl forced himself to move closer to the scene and lightly touched your other shoulder. You straightened up and looked up at him, your expression one of pure agony and your wide eyes filled with tears.

You were battered, bloody, and bruised, and Daryl was pretty sure there was glass in some of the flecked wounds on your face. Your arms were cut and bleeding, but Daryl knew you weren’t feeling any of those injuries right now.

There was nothing to say, so Daryl just stood there silently looking at you for a long moment, feeling a sharp ache between his lungs that seemed to grow the longer he stood there.

You sniffled and cleared your throat, turning back to Aaron and clasping his face in both hands, making him look at you. His eyes were red and puffy and there was a constant flow of tears down his cheeks. “Go with Daryl,” you murmured to him. “Aaron. Listen to me. Go with Daryl, okay?”

Aaron’s eyes frantically moved back to Eric’s body and his expression was desperate.

“Come on,” you said, climbing gingerly to your feet and pulling Aaron up with you, even while he refused to tear his eyes away from Eric. “Go with Daryl,” you said again. You nudged him away and he finally complied, stepping back. Aaron wandered away toward the nearest vehicle in a daze.

You stared down at Eric’s body, feeling suddenly numb, and Daryl watched as you unsnapped the loop of the sheath that covered the hilt of your knife.

Daryl stepped forward again. “Y/N. Ya ain’t gotta—I can—I can take care of it,” he said gently.

“No. I need to.” You turned and looked at Daryl again and renewed tears flowing down your cheeks. “I need to. I—I want to. I can do it.”

Daryl nodded, his chest aching, and he slowly retreated to stand with Aaron.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Later that night, once you had finally returned to Hilltop with Aaron and Daryl, you insisted on digging a grave and burying Eric yourself. A small group of Alexandrians who had known him gathered to pay their respects, but they finally all drifted away. Maggie was able to convince Aaron to come away to be looked over by the doctor. The archer found you alone, sitting in a cloudy daze on the ground, staring at the newly erected grave marker. Daryl anxiously chewed on his bottom lip and knelt down beside you, gently putting a hand on your back.

His touch seemed to bring another swell of emotion in you and you gasped in a shaky breath and tried not to fall to pieces again.

Daryl’s blue eyes whirred over you and studied all the injuries you’d sustained that day, but none was hurting you more deeply than the loss of one the people you cared the most dearly about. You were exhausted and defeated and Daryl knew it was going to be his job to get you back on your feet. And he was going to do it.

He wrapped his arm around you and spoke gently. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You simply stared straight ahead at the grave, still seemingly lost in the veil of your grief.

“Y/N. Hey. Look at me,” Daryl urged you. “Look at me.”

You finally turned your eyes back to him and they seemed dark compared to the light he was used to seeing in them. Daryl gently clasped your face and you closed your eyes at the contact, falling against him the next moment like you had nothing more to give. Daryl wrapped you against him tightly and smoothed his hands lightly over your back. “I know. M’sorry. M’so sorry.” He left a kiss in your hair and held you for a long time. Finally, you pulled back and looked up at him, your eyes still glistening a little. “C’mon. Let me patch ya up.”

You finally nodded and Daryl helped you to your feet. He kept an arm looped around you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, and you followed him back to the familiar trailer you had shared before. Daryl sat you down on the couch and went to his pack and dug out the first aid kit. He returned and sank down on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, his lips pulled in between his teeth.

He grabbed the pair of tweezers and gently turned your face so he could see where some glass was still embedded in your forehead and cheekbone, apparently from your head hitting the side window and shattered debris when the vehicle finally came to rest. He plucked a several pieces out and you barely flinched. He found a few more bits of glass in your shoulder and arm as well as the palms of your hands. You sat frozen as he tended to you, a faraway look in your eyes. Daryl grabbed a few alcohol swabs and opened them, dabbing at the cuts and scrapes on your cheekbone and forehead. He gently clasped your chin and examined the other side of your face. Your expression was vague and disconnected and it was worrying Daryl immensely.

He shifted his attention back to your arms, cleaning off the dried blood and wounds the best he could, some of which began bleeding freely again. There were angry red marks on your wrists from the chemicals in the air bag.

“Hey,” he said, moving your hair away from your face. “Ya wanna take a shower? Should look the rest of ya over too,” he said gently.

For the first time since he’d sat you down you looked right at him and seemed to really see him. Your expression was still desperate, but you nodded.

Daryl nudged his nose up, returning it. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, standing up and helping you to your feet. You winced a little as you moved again. Your whole body felt like it was bruised and stiffening. Daryl left you standing in the doorway of the little bathroom as he ran the water and tested the temperature. “Alright,” he said, stepping out. “I’ll be right out here if ya need me.” He started to slip past you but your hand floated to his chest and landed lightly there, freezing him instantly.

He easily read the request in your eyes. You didn’t want to be alone. You needed him.

His arms circled around you again and he nodded. “Alright. S’okay.” You collapsed against him again. You shut your eyes and focused on the steady sound of his heart beating. “I’ve got ya,” he said softly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to your hair.

You allowed Daryl to gently move you into the bathroom. He shut the door softly behind you and his hands landed lightly on your hips. He studied the bruising and cuts on your face in the brighter light and this time felt a hot swell of rage. Thank God you were alright. It was too damn close… “Let’s take a look at ya, alright?” he said gently. He hesitated before grasping the hem of your dirty and bloodstained shirt and pulled it up over your head. You couldn’t stop the sharp intake of air between your teeth as you struggled to raise your left arm. As you were free from the fabric, Daryl saw the dark bruising from the seatbelt that started at your shoulder and cut across your chest.

He clasped your face again lightly before sweeping your hair back. “How’s yer neck? Sore?”

You nodded. “A little.”

The first words you’d spoken since you’d told him you would take care of Eric… Daryl was quite sure it was more than a little.

You undid the holster with your pistol still in it that was strapped to your thigh and you pulled your knife in its sheath away from your jeans. Daryl’s eyes took in the bumps and bruises on your bare skin, the cuts and abrasions on your arms, as you undid the clasp of your bra and let it fall carelessly to the floor.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and Daryl helped you slip it off him. The range of movement in your shoulder was limited by the swollen and stiff muscles around the joint and you winced a little with every movement. Your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his broad chest and shoulders and you pressed your hands to him immediately, like you wanted to be certain he was real in front of you, grounding, safe. Daryl’s arms gently wrapped you against him, skin to skin. When you broke apart again, you leaned back against the counter and Daryl unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans. He helped you slip out of them, still feeling a little nervous as all of you was bared to him, but your hands found his button and fly and soon he was all skin too, and he stepped into the shower beneath the warmth of cascading water and beckoned you in with a simple tilt of his head.

You were drawn to him and the comfort and safety he gave you like a magnetic. You shut your eyes and let the stream of hot water wash over you. It stung all your wounds but you didn’t care. The sharp sensation was better than the numbness you’d been feeling since— Daryl gently smoothed his hands over your wet skin, his fingers light over every little bruise and cut. He washed the remaining dirt and blood away and you gave into the sensation of being cared for, pushing away the emptiness and nausea that was overwhelming you. Daryl swept your wet hair to one side and kissed your shoulder and your neck so lightly and tenderly it raised goosebumps on your skin despite the warm cloak of the water. He traced his fingers down your spine, letting them wander over the graceful curve of your back before he looped his arm around you from behind, holding you securely against him. You leaned your head back against his chest and tried to convince your muscles to release the tense grip they had on your skeleton.

Daryl thought he felt you soften beneath his hands finally, and the next moment you turned, the water running in rivulets over your collarbone and down your chest, and you looked up at him. He loved the way the water droplets clung to your eyelashes.

“Thank God you’re alright,” you said softly, tears in your eyes again. Your smoothed your hands over his strong chest, your fingers tracing the scars on his skin. “Thank God,” you said again, looping your arms around him and leaning your head on his chest.

“Thank God you are. When I first saw your SUV, I—” Daryl’s hands smoothed over the curves and angles of you again. “S’alright,” he drawled quietly. “We’re alright.”

The pattering of the shower reminded you of the calming sound of rain and you did your best to fill yourself up with this strong man, replacing the empty hole that seemed to have taken hold in your chest since your eyes first landed on Eric’s pale face and Aaron’s anguish.

A short time later, your towel still wrapped around you, Daryl finished patching you up with a gauze pad here and a bandage there. His eyes kept catching on the deep bruise from your seatbelt that cut across your chest. When he was satisfied you were taken care of, you grabbed the kit before he could put it away and tended to some abrasions and wounds he had sustained himself. You lightly rested a hand against his cheek, leaning into him.

“You’ll tell me how today went?” you asked.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a couple nods. “Mhm. Tomorrow. Ya need rest.”

“So do you,” you said, running a wavy strand of his brown hair through your fingers. Your eyes flickered between his for a moment and then shut as you leaned in and met his lips with yours.

Daryl pulled you more tightly into him and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you back softly but with a neediness you felt straight to your core. You ran your thumb along the edge of his strong jaw and kissed him with a warmth Daryl felt spread to his chest instantly and bloom outwards.

“C’mon,” he said gently, tilting his head toward the bed. “I ain’t lettin’ ya go all night,” he said earnestly, smoothing your hair away from your face again.

There was a tinge of sadness in your eyes again. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

wait

(storm section inspired by @ambrosial-tea)

Prompts: Home and Memories

Word Count: 5,901 (hey i think i'm actually starting to get these back to a more reasonable number XD)

Characters: Lloyd and Garmadon

Timeline: Between episodes 13 (Day of the Great Devourer) and 18 (Child’s Play) with some flashback scenes

Trigger Warnings: Abandonment

Summary: Lloyd’s not so great at being patient. It’s not his fault though- maybe he would be better at it if waiting didn’t always end up being so disappointing- if people actually kept their promises. But this time’s going to be different, he knows it. His father will come back for him. And Lloyd’s going to wait.

As long as it takes.

Since I already got two bingos on the sparks board, I decided to switch it up and change to the warm board!

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

In the aftermath of the battle, Lloyd only had one thought on his mind.

Cheers and whoops from the citizens of Ninjago City- and the ninja themselves- rang through the air as the realization that the Great Devourer was dead hit them. Lloyd hardly noticed, though. Gripping the handrail at the edge of the building, he peered out over the city. He was around here somewhere. He had to be.

“We did it!” Kai cried, grabbing Lloyd’s hand and raising it high in the air. “We saved the city! The Great Devourer is dead!” We? Lloyd glared at him, although the fire ninja didn’t even seem to notice. My dad was the one who seemed to do all the saving.

“Ultra!” Cole cried as the dragon landed on the street near the foot of the building. Racing towards the fire escape, the ninja hurried down the stairs and over to the dragon. Cole threw his arms around Rocky’s snout, the others not far behind. “You’re safe, bud!”

As the ninja and Nya laughed and caressed the dragon, Lloyd hung back, feeling lost. This wasn’t right. They couldn’t go on celebrating when someone was still missing.

“Where’s my dad?” he burst out, his voice sounding a lot shakier than what he had hoped for. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

The others exchanged glances. Lloyd hated the way they looked at each other, trying to decide what to tell him, because he obviously wasn’t good enough to know what they were really thinking.

Nya walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and bending over slightly to put herself more at his level. Her eyes sparkled with regret. “Lloyd-”

“Sensei Wu?”

Jaws dropped at Cole’s exclamation, and they jerked their gazes towards where he was pointing. Sure enough, Uncle Wu was sitting in the middle of the street, in a pile of green Devourer goo, looking lost as he pushed himself to his feet. Lloyd closed his eyes, letting his breath out slowly. So at least one of his mistakes had been fixed.

“He’s alive?” Jay gaped. “He’s alive!”

Kai grabbed Lloyd by the wrist, half-dragging him over towards their sensei as the ninja tackled him into a hug. Lloyd reached out to put a hand on his uncle’s back, but paused. He had no place here. Don’t get me wrong, I love the ninja, but… I was never supposed to be part of this. I’m only here because my uncle is their sensei, because I’m their beloved green ninja.

Wu pulled back from his students, grinning- only for his smile to falter as his dark eyes met Lloyd’s red ones. He tilted his head in that odd, knowing way of his. Lloyd wanted to break the contact, but couldn’t.

“Your father is gone, isn’t he.” Not a question, but a statement.

Lloyd let his gaze drop to the ground, remaining silent. His uncle reached a hand out for his shoulder but stopped short when Lloyd flinched away.

“Yeah, and with him, our golden weapons,” Kai growled. Nya elbowed him, hard, and he yelped, rubbing his side and scowling at her.

“Weapons or not, we will see him again,” Wu told him, “of that I am certain.”

“Yeah, only because your dumb prophecy says so.”

Wu flinched. “Lloyd-”

“Do I really have to fight my father someday, Uncle Wu?”

He sighed. “One day, nephew, that time will come. But I can hope that it is not for many, many years to come, when you are much older and stronger and wiser. Until then, we must not linger on the future. You ninja have done well today. You should be proud of yourselves, celebrate your victory for a little while.”

“Don’t worry, bigshot.” Kai ruffled his hair. “You’re the chosen one. And we’re the best teachers there are! You’ll be more than ready by the time the final battle rolls around.”

Lloyd clenched his teeth. Why couldn’t any of them see? He didn’t want to fight his father. He couldn’t. His father had come back for him when the Serpentine had trapped him, even when everyone else had lost hope. His father had been the one to comfort him about their futures, the one to protect him, the one to fix his mistakes with the Serpentine. So what if he had taken the golden weapons? If it weren’t for him, they’d all be inside the stomach of a giant snake right now. Were the ninja really so quick to forget that?

They didn’t know him like Lloyd did. Even his uncle had never seen the side of him Lloyd had seen. His father was a good man who had made bad choices. Couldn’t the same be said for Lloyd? If he had changed, why couldn’t his father?

Don’t worry, dad, he vowed silently. I won’t fight you. I’ll find a way to fix this. To make this right.

You see if I don’t.

---

Lightning illuminated the small room, dazzling Garmadon’s tired face as he carried the blanket over to the couch. Sitting down, he gazed out the window, the pattering sound of rain against the glass both comforting and incredibly lonely at the same time.

He sighed, turning towards the hallway. “I know you’re there, Lloyd.”

A small boy slipped into view, a stuffed dragon hugged tightly against his chest and his wispy, whitish-blond hair a mess as he blinked shyly up at him. “I’m scared of the storm, Daddy.”

Garmadon shook his head, scooting over on the couch and patting the space beside him. Lloyd needed no further encouragement, running up to him and hauling himself up to sit beside him. Lloyd burrowed himself against Garmadon’s side, and he made sure to pull the edge of his blanket a little tighter around his son.

Thunder rumbled loudly, and Lloyd whimpered, gripping tighter onto Garmadon. He waited a moment for the boy to relax before speaking.

“So. Mind telling me what it is you find so scary about storms?” Lloyd fidgeted. “They’re so loud! And the lightning- I don’t want it to get me, Daddy.”

Garmadon chuckled. “So you’re scared of a little noise and lights, eh? Somehow, I didn’t quite expect that from you.”

Lloyd yelped as another rumble echoed through the air, this one seeming to shake the house with its ferocity. Lloyd’s dragon slipped out of his grip and he quickly snatched it back up.

“It’s just a process of nature, son. There’s no need to fear it. We are safe here.”

Lloyd glanced up at him with wide eyes, and Garmadon sighed.

“It’s like a dragon, Lloyd. The storm is a big, restless dragon who’s bored and wants to play. The thunder is his roar, and the lightning is his fire breath.”

Lloyd’s eyes glowed, and he shuffled anxiously against Garmadon’s side. “Well, maybe it’s not that scary anymore…”

Garmadon huffed a laugh. “Dragons. That’s all it ever takes with you, isn’t it?”

Lloyd murmured something inaudible, nestling his head in Garmadon’s lap. They sat there together in the silence of the room, and long after Garmadon had thought his son had fallen asleep, he suddenly spoke.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you and Mommy fight?”

Garmadon breathed out slowly. “Lloyd, you know it’s not nice to listen to people when they don’t know you’re there.”

“Sorry.”

“Look, son. There are some things in this world that are more complicated than you will ever know.” Seeing the confused look on the boy’s face, he elaborated. “Sometimes, people say things they don’t mean. Sometimes, mommies and daddies need to take a little break from each other.”

“Is that why you’re sleeping on the couch?”

“I suppose so. But it’s only for one night, Lloyd. We’ll sort things out tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Garmadon gazed out the window again, running a hand through his thick hair. He tried not to think about the dark roots he had spotted there earlier, staining his deep chestnut hair the color of darkest night.

That was something no one needed to know about yet. The red eyes had already been hard enough on Misako, especially when their son had inherited them. He tried not to think about what that meant, either. The venom wasn’t hereditary, was it? Lloyd showed no signs of the snappishness he had felt as a youth. On the contrary, the child was pure of heart and bright of soul, one of the sweetest people he had ever met. Garmadon couldn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky.

“Did I do something to make you and Mommy fight?”

“What?” Garmadon started suddenly. “Heavens, child, no.” Taking Lloyd’s chin in his hand, he titled it towards him so that they were looking each other in the eye. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This is Daddy’s mistake, not yours. We both love you very much, you know that, right?”

Lloyd nodded, sniffling as he wrapped his arms tighter around him. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Garmadon rested a hand on his head. “Whatever you need, my son. I will always be here for you.”

---

“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, what were you thinking?” Kai ripped the sword off of his back, sending it to the ground with a clatter. “We told you to stay on the bus, and what did you do? Go after a bunch of pirates?”

“Yeah, kid.” Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

Lloyd glared at them. “I was only trying to help! You never let me do anything!” “Because you’re not ready!” Kai put his hands in his hair, yanking on it in frustration. “Augh, can’t you see? We’re only trying to protect you! What good is all this training if you don’t even make it to the final battle?”

“Lloyd,” Zane said more gently. “You need to take things one step at a time. One day, you will be ready to fight beside us. One day, but not today.”

Lloyd looked away, pushing down the bubbling anger inside of him. This didn’t matter. None of this mattered. If the ninja wanted to treat him like a baby, fine. It didn’t matter what they thought.

All he cared about was his father. He needed to impress him. Make him proud.

“Lloyd? Do you understand?”

“Yes, Zane,” he muttered, avoiding the nindroid’s gaze and instead choosing to kick at a rock. The ninja exchanged hesitant glances, but they didn’t press him further.

Nya sighed. “It’s been a long day. What do you say we get back to the Bounty, and-”

“Sorry! You snooze, you lose!”

The group whipped around towards the Bounty, where the thrusters were powering up as several Serpentine peered at them over the guardrails- as well as a familiar dark figure.

“Dad,” Lloyd breathed, lunging forward- only to be stopped by Nya’s strong arms. He squirmed against her, but she wouldn’t relent.

“Lord Garmadon!” Kai cried. “He stole our ship! I can’t believe he stole our ship!”

“Come on,” Jay groaned. “We just got it back! Can’t it go five minutes without being taken?”

“The Bounty belongs to us,” Cole warned. “We fought for it, fair and square. Give it back, Garmadon.”

The Dark Lord gave a dry laugh. “Like I’d give anything to you.”

Lord Garmadon’s head turned- freezing as he made eye contact with Lloyd. The same eerie red of his own eyes reflected back at him. He longed to say something, anything- but his mouth was dry and words refused to come. He hoped his father could tell what he was thinking, anyway.

Please don’t leave. Stay here. We can work something out. We’ll fix everything between us.

Please don’t leave me again.

For a moment, something that looked like doubt flashed in his father’s eyes, and Lloyd felt hope soar in his chest. My dad might actually- he could-

“You’re getting stronger, son,” Garmadon said, “but never strong enough to defeat me. Give up and turn back now, before it is too late.”

No. Lloyd felt himself fumble as the Bounty rose into the air and flew away, taking his father further and further from him. No, he couldn’t be leaving him again, this had been his one chance to get his father back, to earn his love, but Lloyd had blown it.

I’m sorry, dad. I wasn’t good enough. I let you down.

It won’t happen again. Next time, I’ll try harder.

Next time, I’ll make you proud.

---

Their apartment was quiet that night. As Kai and Nya washed dishes in the kitchen- it was their night for clean-up duty- the others crowded around the TV in their tiny living room, playing video games with the volume low. Their usual yelling was diminished to nothing more than hushed whispers.

Behind them, Lloyd was curled up on the couch, already out like a light even though it was only seven pm. The boy was undoubtedly exhausted from the fight with the pirates earlier in the day, Kai thought crossly.

It took him a moment to realize Nya was staring at Lloyd, too. “Kai,” she asked slowly, working her jaw. “Is Lloyd okay?”

“Why,” he asked quickly. “Is he hurt? Did something happen? Man, I told him not to-”

“No. I mean… do you think he’s been acting a little… odd, lately?”

Kai frowned, turning to look at the boy. His brow furrowed as he slept, the corners of his mouth twitching downward slightly. “I guess. He’s probably just tired from all the training. We’ve been working him pretty hard, as of late.”

“Yeah,” Nya nodded, although she didn’t look like the answer truly satisfied her.

If Kai was being honest, it didn’t feel right to him, either.

---

Misako stormed into the room, dropping Lloyd into his lap with a huff. “That’s it, he’s your problem now.”

Garmadon looked up at her questioningly. “What happened?”

“What do you think happened? He bit me again! So, get him to stop.”

“What makes you think I would be able to make him stop?”

“I don’t know, but the fangs come from your side of the family, so it’s your responsibility now.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, you’re a smart man, you’ll figure it out! I’m going to go make some tea. Good luck.”

Garmadon stared after her but was pulled out of his thoughts as something sharp chomped down on his hand. He glanced down at Lloyd. “Oh, mister. What are we going to do with you?”

---

When Garmadon returned home the next day, there was a plump green dragon plush stuffed beneath his arm. He handed it to Lloyd, who was sitting on the floor, playing with his wooden blocks as he sucked on his pacifier. “Here. Next time you feel the impulse to bite someone, bite this instead.”

Lloyd eyed the plush with interest, reaching out for it with grabby hands and clutching it around its middle, pulling it close. Spitting out his pacifier, he began to babble to the dragon, blocks forgotten. Garmadon picked up the pacifier, eyeing it closely and sighing as he caught sight of the puncture holes.

When he glanced at Lloyd, the boy was chomping down on the wing of the dragon. Garmadon rolled his eyes, crouching down next to him. “Hey, what is it with you and biting things you like? C’mon, bud.” He gently pried the wing out of his mouth. “You’re going to hurt him- uh, it- hey, don’t you think your little dragon friend needs a name?”

Lloyd stared thoughtfully at the stuffed animal. “Buhbuh.”

“No, no, no, he needs a noble, dragon-ly name! Like Blaze, or Windracer, or-”

“Buhbuh,” Lloyd said firmly.

“..Buffy?”

“Buhbuh.”

Garmadon sighed. “The fierce and mighty Buhbuh? That’s what you want?”

Lloyd cheered, hugging the plush tight. “Buhbuh!”

The name wasn’t the only thing that stuck. Over the following weeks, Lloyd fell in love with that dragon. Everywhere the toddler went, Buhbuh wasn’t far behind. In his playroom, in the crib, in the car, at meals, even in the bathroom. Misako had spent twenty minutes one night trying to wrestle the toy away from him before he took his bath.

It had solved the biting issue, at least, although Misako often muttered that he had just traded one problem out for another. He dismissed her worries, telling her that Lloyd would grow out of his dragon phase eventually.

Although, that certainly wasn’t happening anytime soon. As Lloyd got older, he only got more and more intrigued by the creatures. Suddenly, everything had to have dragons- his pajamas, the shows on TV, his pull-ups, and his many, many toys. While his biting habits faded, as soon as he learned to walk, he was tottering around the house, roaring and flapping his arms like wings. Even as his collection of dragon toys and figurines grew, however, Buhbuh was always his favorite.

Garmadon should’ve known better than to think the carefree times would last forever, though. Ever since Lloyd had been born, he had been so much happier- and he was certain that the presence of his son was slowing the spread of the venom. But it wasn’t gone. It was a curse that the damned snake had forced him to bear forever.

He wanted to put it off as long as possible, though. He was happier here than he had ever been in his life, and he didn’t want to lose all this.

He knew if anyone could help him, it was his brother. Wu understood how much he loved his wife and child. He knew how badly he wanted this. He would do whatever he could to help. His teas and meditations had always been helpful in the past, and he hoped this time wouldn’t be any different.

“Do you have everything, dear?” Misako asked, helping him slip on his coat.

He lifted the duffel bag in his hand. “All in here. I’m ready.”

A sharp tug on his pant leg distracted him. He glanced down to see Lloyd, sniffing miserably. “Daddy, why do you have to go?”

Garmadon crouched down next to him. “It’s only for a few days, pumpkin. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Why?”

Garmadon sighed. “Daddy’s been feeling…” he glanced at Misako, at a loss, but she only shrugged. “… A bit under the weather lately. I’m going to pay a visit to your Uncle Wu so he can help me with my… impulse control.”

Lloyd blinked at him, and Garmadon smirked, realizing that every word he had just said had gone straight over his son’s head. He ruffled his hair, standing again. “Don’t worry about it too much. You’ll be fine. Your mother will take good care of you.”

As he turned towards the door, he stopped at the sound of sniffling. Turning back to Lloyd, he wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “Hey. It’ll be alright, okay? Daddy will be back soon. You can even call me tonight.” Glancing around, he spotted Buhbuh sitting on the end table and grabbed him, pressing him into Lloyd’s arms. “Buhbuh will take care of you when I’m gone, okay?”

Lloyd hugged Buhbuh tighter. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, Lloyd. Buhbuh is the best protector there is. And remember, I’m the one who bought him for you. Whenever you see him, you’ll know that I’ll always come back.”

---

“Lloyd, steady!” Jay cried. “We’re wobbling too much!”

Kai yelped, gripping onto Cole’s leg, where he was struggling to balance on Zane’s shoulder. On the nindriod’s other side was Jay, and on top of Cole, Sensei Wu balanced, unfazed. Below them all, Lloyd stood, trembling under all their weight.

“Uh, guys, are you sure this is a good idea-”

“Ahhh! Watch out, we’re going to fall!”

The ninja screamed as they fell to the ground, landing in a tangled pile of limbs. Lloyd quickly wriggled his way out from underneath them, and the others extracted themselves more slowly, groaning.

“You gotta find your balance, Lloyd,” Cole said, rubbing his shoulder where Kai had landed on it. “You have the strength to lift us, but you’re not focusing enough.”

“Well, maybe I’m trying!” Lloyd snapped. “I don’t see you down here lifting all that weight!”

Kai frowned. “Lloyd, Cole is only trying to help.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need help. You’re putting too much pressure on me! I could do way better on my own!”

Sensei Wu put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time for a break. Let’s get you a drink of water and rest for a bit, then we can try again.”

Lloyd begrudgingly shuffled after his uncle, grumbling under his breath. Kai watched him go with a furrowed brow.

“What’s got the kid acting so irritable lately?”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t know. But he’s starting to get on my nerves. It feels like he’s just being stubborn for the sake of it.”

Zane frowned. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe we are putting too much pressure on him. Supporting the weight of all of us is probably asking too much for a nine-year-old boy, green ninja or not.”

Cole shook his head. “This is the same kid who put a crack through Dareth’s floor. If he can do that, he can lift us. I know he can do it. But he just seems… distant.”

“We’ll keep an eye on it.” Kai waved his hand, turning back towards the training space. “But we don’t have time for his moodiness now. Lord Garmadon is out there somewhere, and he’s not going to wait around for us to sort out our issues.”

---

“Uh, come on boy, we gotta catch up with the ninja, I’m not gonna fall behind again- woah!”

Ultra let out a mighty roar, careening forward with a mighty flap of his wings and sending the reins shooting out of Lloyd’s hands. He only just managed to snag them before they hurtled over Ultra’s heads.

“Easy boy, easy! Look,” he sighed, letting a hand rest gently on the dragon’s off-white scales. “We’re never gonna win this race and save the dojo if you and me don’t learn to work together. Besides, I’m the green ninja. I’m meant to ride you, anyway. Imagine how impressed the others will be if we come back and I’m riding you like a pro! We can rub it in their faces what a natural I am with dragons, heh. What do you say?”

Flame’s head snorted, letting out a puff of smoke, which wasn’t the most reassuring answer.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Lloyd squinted, staring at the vehicles racing through the canyon below them. There was the familiar shape of the Ultra Sonic Raider, but above it-

The ship appeared to have undergone some design changes, but there was still no mistaking the vast, furling sails or the dragon figurehead. The Bounty was in the race.

His father was here.

Lloyd’s heart skipped a beat. His father was here- he could see the black figure now, helping some of the Serpentine to point a cannon at the Ultra Sonic Raider.

Ultra tensed beneath him, but Lloyd hesitated, holding the mighty dragon back.

His dad was trying to hurt his friends. Lloyd didn’t want to get in his father’s way, but…

He couldn’t let him do this.

Lloyd gritted his teeth, digging his hands into the reins. “Okay, Ultra. Let’s put a stop to this.”

Ultra roared, diving towards the Bounty so sharply that Lloyd had to grip onto the saddle for dear life to keep himself from flying off. “Get out of the way!” he yelled at his father. Garmadon lurched back from the cannon, eyes widening, but it was too late. Ultra was already slamming into the ship, sending both himself and the Bounty spiraling.

Snapping up the reins, Lloyd pulled back, steering Ultra up, narrowly avoiding crashing into the ground.

“Woooo! Nice going, Lloyd!”

Kai’s cry sent a flare of warmth through his chest, but it quickly dissipated as his gaze fell on his father, who was barking at the Serpentine as they hurried to get the ship going straight again. He had made the right choice- the only choice- but at his father’s expense.

A wave of panic suddenly hit him. He couldn’t mess this up. He had been given another chance to make his father proud of him, and he couldn’t let this one slip between his fingers.

“C’mon, Ultra, let’s show ‘em what we got!” With a jerk of the reins, the dragon was shooting through the air like a bullet. Lloyd steered him up, and Ultra did a graceful loop through the air, followed by a swift corkscrew.

Lloyd blinked, surprised at how easily his dragon was listening to him. Usually, Ultra was as stubborn as possible, but apparently he enjoyed putting on a show as much as Lloyd did.

“Quit fooling around, Lloyd!” Cole cried from the Raider. “We gotta win this race, and we need your help!”

Lloyd glanced back at the Bounty, but his father wasn’t even looking at him, just waving the Mega Weapon around as he yelled at the Serpentine. Lloyd sighed, guiding Ultra towards the guys. This obviously wasn’t working.

As the Raider sped over the rocky ground below them, it slowly shifted into a softer, lusher landscape- and then came the snow. Lloyd stuck his tongue out, letting a flake land on his tongue.

“Birchwood Forest!” Kai cried. “Oh, we’ll never get through all these trees to catch up!”

There was a roaring of an engine behind him, and Lloyd glanced back to see his father coming in the Bounty, not too far off. I still have a chance! I can still impress him!

“Let me find a shortcut,” he called to the ninja. “Ultra! Up, boy!”

Scanning the woods below, he quickly eyed out a path, then swooped down with Ultra, racing through the trees. “Follow me!”

The turns were sharp, and Lloyd barely avoided crashing into the trees on more than a couple of occasions. But he didn’t, Ultra’s movements swift and precise below him. Lloyd let out a whoop of exhilaration. He was finally getting the hang of this! Ultra was listening to him! Taming a dragon was no easy feat, his father would have to be proud of him now-

Suddenly, Ultra let out a pained cry, and before Lloyd could process anything, the dragon was being yanked backward and plummeting towards the ground. Lloyd screamed, clutching onto the saddle, and Ultra threw his wings around him, sheltering him as they hit the ground with an almighty crash.

---

Lloyd groaned, blinking stars from his eyes as something bumped against his cheek. When it finally came into focus, he saw Wisp’s head staring at him, grunting in concern.

“I- I’m fine, boy,” Lloyd huffed, grabbing at the dragon’s muzzle for support as he pushed himself to his feet. “What in Ninjago just happened? We were doing so well, now we’re going to lose the race!”

Ultra groaned, raising his left foot and shaking it, where chains clanked loudly.

“No, no, no-” Lloyd raced over, examining the cuff and finding long, curved bones secured tightly around Ultra’s ankle. “The Skulkin! They sabotaged us! Those scheming, no good boneheads!” Lloyd yanked desperately at the chains, trying to get them to budge. “Augh, now we’re never going to win the race, and my father will never-” Lloyd cried out as his hand scraped against the sharp edge of the bone. Immediately, Flame’s head was at his side, nosing him away from the cuff and whining softly as he gently licked Lloyd’s scratched hand.

“I… I just wanted to make him proud,” Lloyd sniffed, burying his face against Flame’s scales. The fire dragon felt comfortingly warm in the cold of the snowdrift.

Rocky’s head butted him softly, before carefully taking the edge of the cuff between his teeth and crunching down on it, shattering it into a dozen pieces. Lloyd sucked in his breath, giving Rocky’s muzzle a quick hug before clambering back onto Ultra’s back.

“If we hurry, we can still catch them now! C’mon, boy, we have a lot of ground to make up for!”

---

Lloyd didn’t win the race, but by the time the finish line came into view, he could see the ninja crowding around the golden winner’s cup, cheering. In front of them, Garmadon was yelling at the referee, insisting that he had won and that the ref had made a faulty call.

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat. His father was right here. Closer than he had been since the defeat of the Great Devourer. Part of Lloyd wanted to run up and hug him, but he knew he couldn’t. That wouldn’t last. He needed something more permanent.

His eyes strayed to the Bounty, resting a little way behind the Dark Lord. With his father out yelling at the ninja and the race staff and all the Serpentine left behind in the Glacier Barrens, the ship was empty.

If Lloyd took it back- his father wouldn’t be able to fly away again. He’d have to stay. They could talk, work things out. As soon as he could get his father to stop running and just listen, he knew he could get through to him.

Lloyd eyed his father warily, but Garmadon was too distracted to notice the giant dragon behind him, as were the ninja. Quietly, Lloyd instructed Ultra forward, and the dragon padded across the ground, climbing up onto the deck of the Bounty.

“That’s not even street legal!” Garmadon was yelling. “My ship was clearly-”

“Your ship?”

His father whipped around, and Lloyd froze as they stared at each other for a long moment.

Please. Please, please, please. Lloyd reached a hand out. “Dad-”

Police sirens sounded behind them, and suddenly two officers hopped out of the car. “Alright, Garmadon, you’re coming with us.”

“Wait!” Lloyd cried, slipping off of Ultra and landing on the ground mere feet from his father. “Dad, it doesn’t have to be like this. You can-”

A screeching of tires, and suddenly Skales was pulling up in his bus. “Look who needs who now!”

Garmadon scowled, turning to go. Lloyd’s brain screamed at him. This was his one chance to stop him. If he did nothing, who knew how long it would be until he got to see him again?

Lloyd lunged forward, grabbing Garmadon’s wrist. The man looked back in surprise. “What are you-”

“Dad. Please. Don’t go.”

Garmadon fell silent, staring at him for a moment. Time seemed to stand still.

Then Garmadon was yanking away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, son. We both know I can’t do that.” In two steps, he was aboard the Serpentine bus and speeding away.

No. Lloyd felt tears well in his eyes. There were others here, and Lloyd hadn’t cried in front of anyone in a long time, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. His father had been right here. He had touched him.

“Way to go, bud!” Kai whooped, running over to him, the other ninja close behind. “You got the Bounty back- hey, woah, what’s wrong?”

Lloyd quickly tried to cover his eyes, but Kai was already crouched down next to him, pulling his arms away and gently wiping at his tears with the sleeve of his gi.

Jay put a hand on his back. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Lloyd shook his head, sniffling. “I just… I thought… my father, I thought he would… I thought if I could make him proud, he would stop leaving…” Lloyd choked on a sob, burying his face in Kai’s gi. “Why does he keep leaving? Why does everyone leave? What did I do wrong?”

“Oh, bud,” Kai whispered, running hands through Lloyd’s hair gently. “This is what’s been upsetting you, hasn’t it?”

Lloyd whimpered miserably, and Kai hugged him tighter- his grip so firm, so protective, that it made Lloyd think maybe everything could be okay again, eventually.

“You look at me,” Kai demanded, tilting his chin up. “None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. All the people that left you were jerks who didn’t appreciate how amazing you were. They don’t deserve you. We don’t deserve you. But you’re our true family, Lloyd. We will never, ever do what they did.”

“You hear that?” Cole punched him lightly in the chest, his voice sounding suspiciously choked up. “You’re one of us, now, green bean. You can’t escape us, whether you like it or not.”

“Your father will never understand this, Lloyd.” Jay gestured at the group with his hands. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. You deserve a father who will be there for you, one whose love is not clouded by dreams of vengeance. But that’s how things are. So you’re stuck with us, instead.”

“I’m sorry he couldn’t be here, Lloyd,” Zane murmured. “But we are. And we love you. So if there’s ever something bothering you, talk to us about it. We want to do everything we can to make you feel wanted.”

Nya crouched down next to Kai. “You and me against the world, bud. Remember that? We’re not giving up on you. Ever. So your father can stuff it-”

Zane elbowed her, and she grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Now’s not the best time for that. But you get my point. I’ll fight stupid destiny for you, Lloyd Garmadon. We all will.”

Lloyd’s eyes welled up again, but this time the tears were happy as he collapsed against them. Five pairs of arms hugged him back, warm and strong and safe.

His father had left again. But that wasn’t what was important right now. His true home was here, with the ninja.

And he had hope it always would be.

---

Garmadon gazed down at the bundle in his arms. His posture was stiff and unnatural, his rough hands as gentle as possible as they supported the weight.

This was easily the most precious thing he had ever carried.

Lloyd stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Every curve and inch of him was perfect- and he was his. Garmadon could see himself in the curve of his son’s nose or the outline of his jaw, Misako in the shape of his eyes or the hue of his skin.

He still couldn’t believe it.

It had taken Misako hours to convince him he wasn’t going to hurt Lloyd, and now, here he was, carrying his son for the first time.

His son. He loved the way that sounded.

Garmadon shifted his grip slightly, and suddenly Lloyd began to fuss. Garmadon glanced to Misako for help, but she simply shook her head, smiling.

At a loss, Garmadon cradled Lloyd closer to his chest. “Shh, shh, Lloyd, it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

Lloyd stopped almost immediately at the sound of his voice, cooing in wonder as he reached a chubby little hand out. Garmadon bowed his head, closing his eyes and letting Lloyd trace his fingers gently across his face.

Garmadon felt the tension ease from his shoulders. This was a person. A living, breathing being, and he and Misako had created him.

Nothing in the world could’ve ever prepared him for the wonderful gift of fatherhood. This was one thing in his life he vowed not to mess up.

“You’re safe, little one,” he murmured. “I will always be here for you.”

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #ninjago lloyd #ninjago garmadon #and... there goes my fluff streak #XD #im sorry for those of you who like garmadad because i keep running him into the ground don't i #i do like him i swear #it's just... the angst is too tempting #maybe i'll write something fluffy for him one day #i actually cried writing this one oops #thanks for reading!#reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“I hate fighting with you.”

jungkook x reader (or oc) genre: fluff; angst word count: 3.7K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here is the resolution to the fight between Jungkook and Holly in, “You think I’d leave you if you falter?” Turns out, these two are pretty damn good at resolving conflicts. This features a little bit of Kid (over the phone). Parts of this are loosely based on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift. I hope you all enjoy, and as always, thanks for reading! :))

YEARS of compartmentalizing feelings were coming in handy as you worked on the conclusion of your essay. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to write when all you wanted to do was sprint to the dorm and figure things out with your boyfriend.

For about the thirtieth time since he walked out, after you asked him to leave, you checked your phone. You wanted to text or call him. Things got out of hand and you never meant to lay all of that on him in that moment. It should have come out in a proper conversation, where both of you could listen to each other calmly without emotions being so high.

Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since he left, and your anxiety was only intensifying. The more time that went by, the less focused you were on writing, your ability to keep the fight concealed in a box in your mind dwindling. Your feelings were spilling out throughout your mind and body, the sadness and disappointment flooding your thoughts.

Your phone started ringing and you reached for it instantly, breathing out with a huff when you saw it was not Jungkook but rather “The Queen”, your close friend, who was also Yoongi’s girlfriend.

Completely unsure of how to handle the fight, you resorted to texting the girl, knowing she usually handed out amazing advice, and also knowing that she and Yoongi had some difficult times early on in their relationship. Though the issues were different than hers and Yoongi’s, you thought she might be able to provide some insight as to how to handle conflict when both parties obviously love each other and want things to work.

Answering the phone, you greeted her with a sigh before saying, “Hello.”

“Hey, bubs,” she greeted, sympathy lacing her tone.

“I shouldn’t have asked him to leave, should I have?” You asked her, hearing her sigh into the phone.

“I mean, it’s complicated, you’re working on an essay. That’s important,” she reminded you.

“But now it looks like I’m prioritizing my assignment over Jungkook,” you whined, feeling like a complete asshole.

“And? What’s the issue with that?” She asked bluntly.

“I just don’t want to hurt him, I guess, I don’t know,” you explained.

“Jungkook understands deadlines, he’s not going to see it as you prioritizing something above him, it’s just sometimes things do rank higher in immediate importance. It was just shit timing, he gets that,” she told you, you humming in response.

“Yeah I guess,” you agreed, thinking about the situation.

“The kid may act like a selfish jerk sometimes but he’s not actually a selfish jerk,” she reminded you. “I mean but throwing a tantrum over the dishes? Really? Remind me to fucking punch him next time I see him.”

You let out a light laugh at the comment.

“Don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for taking care of yourself or your responsibilities,” she told you.

You groaned, your friend waiting patiently for your next words. “I know, you’re right. I just hate this feeling so much, we’re usually so in sync and now I just dumped all this stuff on him and he had no idea I had any of these feelings. I mean, you should have seen his face, dude, he was devastated.”

“No matter how in sync you two usually are, you’re still two individuals with different thoughts and emotions and that means communication isn’t always going to go easy,” she said, pausing for a moment as you both sat in silence. “Neither of you should have taken your stress out on each other, but it happens. And as for the deeper-rooted issues you laid out there, those do need to be addressed. Again, maybe shit timing, but it’s necessary to have those complicated conversations,” she pointed out.

“I just don’t want to lose him,” you admitted, tears forming in your eyes as your voice quavered. “I’m so scared I fucked it all up.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t,” she immediately negated. “Things may feel heavy right now but this doesn’t mark the end of anything. Jungkook is in this with you. He’s just going to be even more determined now to make sure you feel loved, and if he doesn’t, he’s not worth it to be completely honest,” she told you, you thinking about the words. “Look, I know he loves you. I mean, honestly, it’s a good thing that I actually adore you because I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with the guy since you two met where he didn’t bring you up,” she lightly laughed, you scoffing as you chuckled.

“Ok, same though, I can’t shut the fuck up about him either,” you admitted.

“Yeah, I know,” she laughed, “you two are annoying.”

“Says you, little miss, honey boy this, honey boy that,” you teased her, your friend gasping in feigned offense.

“Whatever, I can’t stand that dude,” she joked, both of you fully aware of how fond she was of Yoongi.

“Is he home?” You asked.

“No, he’ll probably be in the studio all night. I might head over there in a little bit and just sleep there,” she told you, but the information had your heart clenching. If Yoongi was pulling all-nighters in the studio, Jungkook’s current work stress was probably more intense than he was letting on.

“Look, finish your essay and then call him. And if you can’t focus on the essay, then maybe call him now. You don’t have to figure everything out right at this moment, but maybe reaching out and letting him know that you do want to figure it out as soon as possible will help both of you relax,” she told you, the words resonating with you as you realized that’s all you wanted in this moment. Just to give and receive assurance that everything would be ok soon.

“Thank you,” you pouted, tears forming in your eyes again. “I feel a lot better now. Like, still shit but at least better.”

“You know it’s not a problem,” she dismissed her role in helping you. “Everything will be just fine, let me know how it all goes, ok?”

“I will,” you told her. “Thank you, I love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied before the line went dead.

As soon as the call ended, you were tapping on your phone, preparing to call Jungkook, when your front door suddenly opened. Snapping your head in the direction of the intruder, startled by the sudden entrance, you found your boyfriend, his fluffy hair windswept and amess on top his pretty head.

“Sorry,” Jungkook muttered in apology for your frightened expression. His eyes were wide and doe-like as always, but you could see their reddened coloring and the puffiness from across the room. He came back, and that was all the assurance you needed to know that everything would be ok.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, preparing to stand up from your spot on the floor, your back against the sofa, but he held a hand out to halt you.

“No, no, don’t get up,” he told you. “Is your essay done?”

“Jungkook,” you repeated, but he ignored you, instead striding towards you and looking overtop you at your laptop screen. “I’m at the conclusion.”

“That’s good, right?” He asked, his eyes adorably innocent as they stared at you from above.

“I’m losing focus,” you whined pathetically, Jungkook frowning.

“Because of me?” He asked, the hurt and regret evident in his features.

“It’s not your fault,” you told him sincerely, Jungkook giving you a disbelieving look. “It’s not, baby, it’s not just on you.”

“Can I sit with you as you finish?” He suddenly asked, his expression hopeful but nervous, as if you just might turn him down. How could you ever?

“Yeah,” you barely spoke through a whisper, nodding a couple times. “Can we talk?”

“We will, I promise,” he assured you, bending down as he cradled your face in between your hands. “After you finish this, ok? For now, just know I love you and I’m here because I want to work through this.”

He left a kiss to your forehead, you pouting in response to his affection. Stepping away, he stretched out across the sofa, laying his head to the side of yours, placing his hand at the back of your head. As he massaged the spot gently, you leaned into the touch before taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Thank you for coming back,” you told him. “I want to work through this too.”

You felt his lips press to the top of your head, accompanied by a whispered, “I know, baby.” With that, you took one more deep breath, refocusing on the assignment.

You tapped the keys on your laptop, the thoughts flowing to you much easier in the presence of Jungkook, his hand staying at the back of your head to soothe you and remind you of his care for you. Time went by fairly quickly, for you at least, as you wrapped up the essay and went back through it, cleaning up sentences, fixing thoughts, and ensuring your citations were done correctly.

“Okay,” you said through an exhale, Jungkook sitting up to look over your shoulder at the screen.

“Is it done?” He asked, his tone sweet.

You hummed, looking toward him. “I don’t know, I think it’s as good as it’s gonna get,” you told him, Jungkook moving his gaze from the computer to you. “Would you mind reading it for me?”

Your boyfriend quickly sat up, crossing his legs underneath him as he held his hands out for you to give him the laptop. “How much time do you have left?” He asked as you placed the device into his hold.

“Twenty-one minutes,” you told him through a scrunched-up face, Jungkook smiling slightly.

“Ok, that’s plenty of time, you’re good,” he assured you just before he began reading. You watched him intently as he read through the essay, your lips occasionally quirking up as he’d nod his head, physically responding to your points.

Endearing. If you could only choose one word for Jungkook, which was just not enough words for the man sitting next to you, you thought you’d choose endearing. Your boyfriend was so gentle and kind and considerate and thoughtful, and observing him in that moment, you wondered how he could ever make you feel as though you had to be perfect to keep his love.

But maybe that was the issue. He was never messy, emotional, frenzied, rarely moody, and even less so selfish. As you stared at him, you began realizing that it wasn’t actually the way he praised you or very occasionally nagged you, but was rather entirely your perception of him that made you feel inadequate. And how could that be his fault?

Jungkook’s voice broke through your thoughts as he met your gaze with his bright orbs. “It’s really good, baby.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I had no clue what you were talking about in the beginning,” he smiled slightly, you letting out a light chuckle, “but by the end I feel like I could explain to someone else what you wrote about.”

“Are you sure?” You asked doubtfully.

“I’m sure,” he told you. “Turn it in.”

Sighing, you nodded. “Ok,” you agreed. “I don’t have time to change anything anyways,” you smiled, Jungkook giggling.

“It’s great,” he told you once more, handing you the laptop. He watched as you attached the file to the module, your pointer hovering over the submission button. “Do it,” he whispered encouragingly, you pressing the button with a giggle.

“Well, if I failed, I failed,” you looked to him, Jungkook rolling his eyes with a shake of his head.

“What was going on? You’re usually so quick with your essays. I mean, you’re an amazing writer,” he stumbled over his words, you simply shrugging.

“I don’t even know, I think I was just having some sort of mental block,” you told him with a frown.

“Our fight definitely couldn’t have helped,” he noted sadly.

“Can we talk now?” You asked, Jungkook nodding immediately.

“Come here,” he patted the cushion in front of him, you standing up just to plant yourself on top of the couch. You both sat across from each other, face to face, legs crossed underneath yourselves.

“You know if you didn’t get that essay done in time, I would love you just the same, right?” He asked you, you looking at him thoughtfully. “Or if you get it back and it’s not the score you’re hoping for?” You prepared to respond, but his next words cut you off before you could begin. “I don’t love you because I think you’re perfect, I love you because you’re you.”

Exhaling, you licked your bottom lip, directing your eyes to Jungkook’s knee that was bumping against your own. “I do know that,” you told him.

“Yeah?” He asked, sincerely curious.

“I think I was wrong,” you admitted, meeting his eyes, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I know you love me for me, as I am, but I’m still scared to show you me when I’m not at my best because I feel like I won’t be enough for you.”

“Baby-”

“Not because of how you treat me,” you quickly added, interrupting him. “But because I never see you be anything but this strong and collected person and I don’t want to be the one who’s always a mess while you’re totally fine.”

“I’m not always fine though,” he told you, his eyes sincere as he shook his head. “I handle my struggles pretty well, and I handle them alone, because I’ve never wanted to burden my members when they were going through their own shit,” he explained, you listening intently.

“It’s my fault,” he held his hand against his chest, “that you’ve never seen me in a vulnerable state. I’m so used to hiding my problems from other people that-” he paused, his eyes glistening with tears. “That I’ve hidden them from the one person I want to share them with.”

“You want to share them with me?” You asked, tears forming in your own eyes.

“I don’t want to burden you or worry you with my struggles, but at the same time, I want your help,” he told you, the admission tipping you over as you let out a quiet sob. Jungkook instinctively reached forward, placing his hands on your cheeks as he wiped tears away. “You’re gonna make me cry,” he told you through a giggle, his tears building up.

“I want to see them,” you pouted, immediately realizing how the words sounded. “Oh my god, that sounds so bad,” you whined, Jungkook’s smile spreading across his face as he laughed. “I just mean I want to be the person you can show that to,” you giggled.

“I know what you mean, baby,” he nodded. “I don’t want to hide any part of me from you anymore, ok?”

Nodding, you turned your head in his hold to leave a kiss to the side of his thumb. “I don’t either,” you whispered against his hand, Jungkook smiling in relief.

It was then that his tears fell, you looking at him in surprise as your crying was stopping due to the resolution. “Oh, baby,” you pouted, crawling forward to place yourself in his lap, Jungkook’s arms easily wrapping around you as he tucked his face into your neck.

“I hate fighting with you,” he cried against your skin, you cooing at his pure heart.

“Me too, baby,” you told him, running your hand soothingly over the back of his head. “Hey, we’re good at resolving things though,” you pointed out, Jungkook letting out a breathy laugh, tickling your neck.

Sniffling, he sat up straight, wiping his face carelessly with the back of his hand as he nodded. “We are pretty good at it,” he giggled. You watched as he resituated himself on the couch so he was reclined, holding his arms open for you to cuddle up next to him, which you did eagerly.

Looking up at his face, you saw the way his jawline slightly shined in the living room light, you pulling your sleeve over the palm of your hand to dab the tear residue from his face.

You both stayed in each other’s arms in silence for a little while, Jungkook’s breath becoming slower and more relaxed as you dragged your finger in patterns on his chest.

“Do you ever feel like you peaked at like, 11?” You asked, him, Jungkook pulling his chin into his neck to look down at you.

He looked at you thoughtfully, a small crease etched into the skin at the top of the bridge of his nose. “Yeah sometimes,” he agreed. “Maybe not 11, but sometime in childhood.”

“I wish you could have known me when I was a kid,” you told him. “When I was uninhibited, just being me with no apologies every day.”

“I wonder at what age we lose that sense of ourselves,” Jungkook thought out loud.

You hummed, still tracing invisible drawings across your boyfriend’s t-shirt covered chest. “I don’t know, I look at some people, like Tae and even his Peaches,” you both giggled fondly, “and I think that some people have managed to hold onto that part of themselves. Like even though they mature and grow up, they don’t lose that inner child. Even you,” you added.

“Do you think you’ve lost yours?” He asked, you puckering your lips in thought.

“Sometimes. I’m so controlled now, I used to be free. I wasn’t so concerned about concealing everything,” you explained, Jungkook nodding in understanding.

“She’s still in there,” he told you. “I’ve seen her, we’ve met a couple times. We’re acquaintances,” he smiled, you giggling at the comment. “She just needs to know it’s ok to show herself.”

“You’re really sweet,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “What were you like as a kid?”

“I was a bit of a brat,” he grinned.

Laughing, you pulled a face of feigned shock. “No,” you said sarcastically.

“Can you believe it?” He joked, wrapping his arm around your waist a little tighter. “No, I was a brat but I was a good kid. I had a nice childhood.” You watched him thoughtfully, noticing he had more to say. You waited patiently for him to continue, dragging your fingers over his abdomen. “I just sometimes think it got cut short.”

Jungkook moved away from home much earlier than most people ever even thought of living away from their parents. You had no doubt that with his long days of training, he felt that his childhood ended earlier than it should have.

“I’m sorry baby,” you told him, feeling sympathetic for the younger version of your boyfriend.

“No,” he quickly shook his head. “I wouldn’t change anything, but it’s interesting to think about,” he told you, staring at the ceiling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, my life could have been totally different. I’m happy with how it turned out, but, choosing a career as a kid, I don’t know, there’s a lot of opportunities that I never even got to consider.” You hummed in understanding, Jungkook letting out a scoff. “I sound ungrateful,” he pointed out, you quickly negating the comment.

“No, you really don’t. Everyone knows you’re grateful for what you have, but it’s ok to wonder about what your life would have been without all of this. And it doesn’t mean you wish things turned out differently, it’s just, like you said, interesting to think about.”

“I think the hyungs preserved as much of my childhood as they could,” he told you, and maybe even to himself. “That’s why I never wanted to burden them.”

Hearing him talk so fondly about his members brought tears to your eyes, and you could tell by the way Jungkook sniffled and coughed to clear his throat, he was becoming emotional as well.

“They’re amazing people,” you told him through a warm smile. “I love them a lot.”

The confession, which he already knew, made him look from the ceiling to you, your two teary sets of eyes meeting. You both giggled at each other and yourselves as Jungkook pulled a silly expression to lighten the mood.

“You know,” he started, the allusion in his tone piquing your interest. “I knew I was in love with you probably one month into knowing you,” he admitted, you smiling at the comment. “Which I don’t know if that’s early or too soon to tell, but I knew I felt it. But when we went and did karaoke that one night, that’s when I was so sure that I couldn’t not tell you.”

You remembered the date vividly. You went and did karaoke with Jungkook, his members, and their girlfriends, and well… Peaches. You had only met them all a few times before that, but somehow, you felt like you belonged with them.

“I didn’t know that,” you smiled brightly. “That’s why you confessed that night?”

At the end of the night, everyone went their separate ways, and as you and Jungkook were walking to your apartment, he told you he loved you.

“Yeah,” he giggled in slight embarrassment. “Watching you get along so well with everyone and seeing them treat you as their own friend, I just, I knew.”

Your eyes glistened again, Jungkook’s own bambi eyes looking at you with a sheen. You groaned in disgust of your cute moment, adding, “We’re really cute, aren’t we?”

Jungkook laughed at your comment and expression, nodding in agreement. “We’re really cute, baby.” Sighing, you crawled up his body so you were eye level with him. “Maybe even the cutest,” he added teasingly, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“You might be right,” you whispered, your lips barely grazing his own, Jungkook smiling before placing a hand at the back of your head, lifting his face toward yours to kiss you firmly.

The kiss was messy with smiles and giggles, forgiveness and acceptance His hand left your head to wrap around your lower back, pulling your body as flush with his as it could be.

“I love you,” you breathed out, mumbling against his mouth, Jungkook purposefully nudging your nose with his.

“I love you so much,” he replied, the words just as mumbled as yours.

And fuck, you really did love each other. And maybe he was right. Perhaps you were the cutest.

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