#contemplating going to sleep with it clutched in my hands. for comfort. because i’m normal

[vulpinesaint]

i sit with my saint sebastian medallion clutched in my hand like a lifeline because i’m normal

[butwhyduh]

Last night thing

Jason todd x reader

Summary: he stopped you from stealing a $25,000 watch but missed something else. Part 2 to Late night Thing.

Warning: kidnap, fighting, smut

As Jason pulled up his pants and contemplated his life choices of sleeping with a beautiful thief on a rooftop, he came to a conclusion. You stole his damn tie clip. He had said that he would break your hand if you tried to steal it and dammit, you had. Somehow it simultaneously made him mad and horny. How the fuck had you managed that?

Jason knew that he wouldn’t find you that night. So he went back to his safe house to lick his wounded pride and plan his next move. He needed to get that clip back. It was a gift from Alfred and he would literally kill for it. Though he seriously doubted that he’d need to do that. And Jason would never admit it but he didn’t want to kill you.

He planned to find you sometime during the next week. His tie clip was expensive but not extraordinarily expensive but you had to find someway to sell it without him finding it, which would take time. Jason just didn’t know that it would be the next day that he would find you.

He heard that Bane was throwing his weight around in the drug trade for some damn reason. Wasn’t his venom addition enough for one man? So Jason was snooping around, or investigating as the bats liked to say. He fully expected a boring night of listening in a warehouse for hours and learning very little but instead almost fell through the glass at the sight before him.

You were strapped to a chair with rope. The pretty dress you wore the night before was in tatters but you were covered. Your eyes were red and your nose had dried blood underneath it. You were shivering like a leaf.

“I’m not here to negotiate with you. I’m here for Cat Woman. You are her child and she will come or you will die,” Bane said casually. You gasped.

“She’s going to be mad. Why would she work with you after this?” You asked, braver than you felt. He turned and coldly looked at you before stalking over. His giant fingers wrapped around your throat and you thrashed in the chair.

Jason stood up and moved to jump into the fight despite the fact that he really didn’t want to fight the brute. But Bane let you go and you audibly gasped and sucked air through open lips. You trembled and heaved.

“If she does not care about you, I will move on to her next kitten,” he said and you gulped. You didn’t know if she would save you. Jason looked through the room for a strategy. 2 exits and the skylight he currently looked through. 3 goons that he could easily take out. Oh, and a 300 pound juiced up super soldier. That broke Batman’s back years ago. Fuck.

“Let me go and I’ll do anything you want,” you said and even Jason up high in the rafters could hear the waver in your voice. Bane turned and stared at you and your mind almost couldn’t comprehend the massive size of him. He was easily half a foot taller than Red Hood and almost 100 pounds heavily and Red Hood towered over you.

“What could I possible want from you,” he asked with an icy curiosity. He was watching you for a reaction. You wanted to shrink away but that would be a failure.

“Anything you could want. Information,” you suggested. “About Gotham.”

“I have my sources.”

“Uhhh,” you breathed. “Gems? Money?” He shook his head. Your heart hammered in your chest. He was a man, right? You could sell that maybe? “Me?” You breathed.

He laughed before looking you up and down. “I do not want you carnally, child,” he said. You almost sagged in relief and Jason’s hand released the gun he didn’t know he was holding. “No. We will wait for Cat Woman and if she doesn’t come in 2 days, you are dead.”

You hummed in fear. Bane sat crossed legged and closed his eyes. He threatened to kill you and then fucking meditated. You helplessly pulled at the ropes on your wrists.

Jason tried to piece together how you got there and how to get you out. He knew that he couldn’t exactly call Bruce. ‘Hey dad, do you want to fight the guy who broke your back over a thief he has tied up. Why? I don’t know! I just like fucking her on rooftops!’ Never saying that.

Nope. Instead he would attempt stealth. Against one of the best trained fighters in the world for a woman that robbed him. Yea, maybe Jason should have stayed 6 feet under because he’s a fucking idiot. He sighed before slowly moving towards them. Bane was sitting cross legged with his eyes closed in a meditation back to you.

You suddenly saw Jason out the corner of your eyes and your eyes widened before going back to normal. Bane didn’t seem to notice the slight change in your breathing. Jason snuck over to untie you. He slowly pulled the rope from around your wrists and you were almost completely untied when the end of the rope barely grazed the ground.

Bane snapped his head around as Jason drew his guns. You gasped as Bane launched himself towards Jason. You ripped your hand out of the rope as bullets flew. You scrambled to the floor but was quickly pulled up by the giant man. He clutched you by the shoulder and you whimpered in pain. Jason suddenly froze.

“This is far more interesting that I first thought. I looked for a cat and found a bat,” he laughed. You squirmed in pain. He sat you down but the hand stayed on your shoulder.

“She’s not important. Let her go,” Jason said. The metallic voice from his helmet sounded bored.

“If she is unimportant, she is better off dead,” he said roughly pulling you in his arms and one hand gently wrapped around your throat but didn’t tighten it. You grabbed at his fingers and sobbed pathetically. Your eyes were wide and terror was plain on your face.

“Let’s not. Put the lady down and we can talk,” Jason said and it was weird to see Red Hood negotiating. He was usually the muscle in the situation. It really showed you how fucked you really were.

“Okay I’m intrigued. I will hear your proposal,” he said sitting you down. You scampered behind Jason. Your whole body trembled.

“I know Gotham underground better than you ever will. Sorry but you’re scary as shit but not in a good way,” he said with a shrug. If you didn’t know any better, he seemed casual. “I can get you the venom you need. No cost for a while.”

“How long,” Bane asked. He was the kind so get all the facts before proceeding. He also had the weakness of being completely addicted to venom.

“A months worth.”

“6 months.”

“3 months.”

“Deal. If you break this deal I will crush her windpipe with my hand,” he said with no emotion. It was a promise, not a threat. Jason felt you move closer to him.

“Deal,” Jason agreed. Bane moved closer and you clung to Jason. You were clinging to Red Hood. How pathetic. Jason stood taller and stared at Bane. They shook hands.

Suddenly Bane slapped Jason violently across the face and you yelped. Jason went to the ground but quickly got up to a defensive crouch. You jumped in front of him with your heart beating so fast you would soon faint.

“For invading my space and my business,” Bane said before walking away. “Leave.” He didn’t turn to watch.

You noticed a little crack in the Red Hood helmet. How hard did Bane hit him? Jason stood up and pulled you out of the warehouse with him. He quickly grabbed you and shot his grappling hook out of the area. About half a mile away, he landed on a building. You clung to him and trembled.

“Hey, you’re safe,” he said. “You can let go.”

You pulled off but shivered like a leaf.

“Shit, you’re cold. Here. Here,” he wrapped his jacket around you and it helped your temperature but not your shivering. “Come here,” he pulled you in his arms and you clung. His heartbeat felt reassuring and he awkwardly patted your hair. You could tell Jason wasn’t used to providing comfort.

“He- he,” you started but stopped. “Can we go somewhere safe?”

“Come on downstairs. This is my place,” he said and you nodded. You followed him inside and it was far warmer but you couldn’t stop the shaking. His jacket was replaced by a blanket and Jason sat you on the couch. The helmet came off but domino stayed on. You practically climbed on his lap to be closer. Your eyes were still wide with horror.

You’d been arrested, harassed, even shot at. But never kidnapped like that. And by the giant Bane at that. Jason could feel the fear and adrenaline coming off of you. He rubbed your back softly. You looked up at him suddenly after a few minutes.

“You saved my life. You put yours in danger to save mine,” you breathed. He shrugged, a little uncomfortable under your gaze. “Thank you,” you added.

“Uh you’re welcome. It’s no biggie.”

“Yes it is,” you said before kissing him. Your pace was dizzying and rough. Jason was in shock at first. Your hands roamed his body before dropped down to his belt and he almost jolted up.

“Not today,” he said, stopping your hand. “I mean, normally I’d love to but not now. Give it a few days.”

“Why?” You said with your voice all breathy. Your lips were swollen and eyes dark and he almost gave in.

“You were just kidnapped. You need sleep. Not sex,” he said sliding away from you. “Are you hungry?”

“Wh- you don’t think I could want you?”

“I’m not in the mood. Almost getting killed by Bane really kills the urge,” he lied. If he thought you were in your right mind, he would have fucked you on the rooftop or against the first surface he found. You jumped in front of Bane for him. He found it all incredibly hot. “You need a shower anyways.”

It was cold and cruel but better than sleeping with a traumatized woman. You shook and nodded before using his shower. Jason felt twinges of guilt but ignored them. He knew it was better this way.

You came in nothing but his t shirt that hung like a dress. “Nothing else fit,” you said awkwardly. He could see the scars that covered your legs and bruises around your throat.

“We can lay in bed,” Jason said just as awkwardly. He might know what to do with a woman who wants to fuck him but not just one sleeping over. “For sleeping.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t try anything,” you said with a little smile and he smiled back. You both laid in the bed and it wasn’t long until you pressed your back against his chest and pulled his arms around you. He was strong and safe. You managed to sleep all night with the anticipated nightmares. They had time later to come up. When you weren’t cradled in his arms.

The next morning you woke up warm. The rise and fall of his chest was comforting. His hand held your waist loosely and you could seriously just stay in this moment. But as soon as you moved, you almost giggled like a teenager. He was hard and pressed against your ass.

“Ignore that,” he mumbled.

“Okay... how?” You said after a few seconds. “Because it’s pretty unforgettable for the man I like to sleep with to have his hard dick pressed against my ass. Have to say.”

“We only did it once in a rooftop. Was it that unforgettable?” He said and you could hear the smirk he wore.

“It was alright,” you said playfully but you couldn’t help but press back into him. Jason grabbed your hip to stop you.

“Trying to get me horny?”

“I think you already are.”

“That’s true,” he said before grinding against your ass. You pushed back to do your own rubbing. “And you’re not even wearing any panties,” he said bunching up the fabric of his shirt you wore. He slapped your ass soundly and you gasped.

“What was that for?”

“My tie clip. I hope you still have it,” he said before slapping your ass again. You reached behind you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants.

“I’ll get it back to you,” you said. His pants were pushed down. Jason hummed and rubbed his dick between your thighs. You sighed at the sensation and arched your back so he was sliding between your folds instead.

“You’d better,” he growled but it had no true heat. Not when he was so close to finally fucking you and had his lips leaving little marks on your shoulder and neck. You tried to press back onto him but he stopped your hips.

“Do you deserve it,” he asked running a finger along your hip, every once in a while dipping between your thighs to barely touch your clit. You jumped and grabbed at his wrist to hold him there but he just chuckled and moved away from where you needed him. His thrusting between your folds felt amazing but not enough and he was purposefully avoiding sliding in your hole. Jason quite liked the way your body panted and curved in desperation.

Finally feeling that you had been tortured enough, and he wanted in your wet heat, he pressed his hips forward and filled you. You whimpered and leaned your head back against him.

“Yes,” you breathed. Jason took his time slowly thrusting, letting you fill his full length. His free hand moved from pinching your nipple to circling your clit. You were practically clenching him from the start and he loved it. You were so receptive.

It didn’t take long for him to find a pattern that just got you a little more vocal and focused on that. “God, you’re fucking wet,” he breathed in your ear and you whimpered. You seemed to like what he had to say.

“Taking me so well. Acting like such a good girl,” he said and you breathed out a “Hood” in response. Oh yeah, you didn’t even know the name of the man that you let fuck you. You trusted him enough to sleep in his bed and you’d never even seen his eyes.

His finger circling your clit and cock angled to drag along your g spot had you seeing stars as you came around him. Jason grunted and held your hips tight before quickly pulling out to cum on your ass. He looked as the pretty white beads covered your skin. He wasn’t forgetting that image any time soon. He reached for a towel to clean you up.

Afterwards you turned in his arms and kissed him soundly before lying your head on his chest. You reached up to play with his hair with a little smile on your face. Jason could get used to this. As soon as he thought it, he had the urge to jump up and kick you out. He didn’t do permanent. You were just having fun.

“I need a shower,” he said roughly, getting up. Jason couldn’t help but notice the disappointment on your face that you quickly hid.

“I should get going before my walk of shame gets any later,” you said with an awkward laugh.

“Borough anything you need,” he said before disappearing into his bathroom. While in the shower he had time to think. Yeah, I’m totally not broken to be cool with fucking a woman but not being able to hold her. Not a sign of being fucked up at all, Jason thought. Probably got that from Bruce. Though my real dad probably did it too.

He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and immediately saw a note on the bed.

Had fun, Hood. We should do it again sometimes, (your number)

💕 Kitten

His tie clip was set underneath it. Jason smiled. Okay, this could be fun. He was young and sowing wild oats or whatever, right?

There was no way this could go wrong, right?

[seokmingiggles]

sleepytime herbal tea.

Prompt: "How about something warm? It will help you sleep."

Pairing: Xu Minghao x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, mutual crushes, roommate!au, college!au.

1.65k words

No warnings.

Sometimes, you believe there’s something unspoken between you and your roommate. Sometimes, he’ll do little things for you or say little things to you that will make your heart warm like it’s a teabag brewing in a toasty cup of fragrant tea.

Alternatively, maybe Minghao is your human equivalent of a cup of tea: warming, calming, and all-around comforting—particularly at 3 am when the rest of the world is asleep.

A/N: What started with Minghao shall end with Minghao. (Just kidding! I’ve already written a second piece for some members! ^^)

Back to the teacup masterlist.

•• "Oh, hey. What are you still doing awake?"

Minghao looks up from his novel to see you making your way into the kitchen. You're wearing the pair of slippers he got you for your birthday; the shuffling sound scampers across the apartment's wooden floor. Your hair is messy, going in every which direction, and your eyelids droop heavily. Your eyebrows furrow slightly.

"What time is it?" his expression is confused, lips gently pouting as he rubs his eyes with his free hand, the other one acting as a makeshift bookmark between the pages of his novel.

You glance at the clock on the microwave, "Just past three in the morning."

"No kidding," he mutters, standing from his spot on the sofa to stretch out his limbs after remaining in the same curled-up position for hours. The boy creases the top corner of his page, setting the book down on the couch's armrest. "What are you still doing awake?"

"I couldn't fall asleep," is your answer. You frown, "I was just lying there until my mouth got dry. But when I reached over for my glass of water, I realized it was empty."

Minghao hums, knowing the all-too-familiar feeling. "How about something warm? It will help you sleep," he says as he wades over to the kitchen, ending up by your side. He reaches up into the wooden cabinet above your head, "I like this one. You're welcome to try it tonight."

With a short hum, the boy presents his favourite herbal tea in the adorable little box: the brown bear clad in pyjamas and sat by a fireplace in its comfy armchair.

You set your empty glass on the kitchen counter and take the thin cardboard box in your hands. "Your sleepytime tea? I thought this one is off-limits."

Minghao shrugs, a gentle smile forming on his face in the dim lighting, "It normally is, but this seems like a special occasion."

"Us—both being awake at three in the morning with classes later today—is a special occasion?"

"Don't make me change my mind, (Y/N). Here," he grabs a pair of mugs from the dish-rack by the sink, "I'm going to have some too."

Minghao moves to fill the kettle with water and places it on its base, adjusting the setting on the side with a shrill beep at its programmed start.

You fiddle with the handle of the ceramic mug, trying to distract yourself from your roommate's delicate features in the faint light sourced only from the oven range hood and the moon outside the far window in the living room.

"What were you reading?" you ask him, still fixated on the countertop. "It must have been good if you lost track of time."

The boy nods with a hum. "One of my friends recommended it to me a little while ago—the one in my literature class. I haven't had the time to read it until tonight—or last night, I suppose—but I must be a third of the way in already. Maybe even half-way by now."

"What's it about?" you nonchalantly question, continuing the conversation while keeping your eyes low.

Minghao's ears begin to burn. "Ah, nothing in particular," he softly clears his throat. "Just a slowly-building love story between a couple of childhood friends. But," he adds quickly, "it's quite contemplative and poetic."

"A romance novel?" your eyes eventually meet his. "I wouldn't have taken you for someone who enjoys reading love stories, Hao," you can't help the playful smile that wiggles onto your lips.

The kettle's signal is high-pitched as the water reaches its desired temperature, giving Minghao a reason to pull his eyes from yours. He pours water into both of the mugs, allowing a few centimetres from the rim. You watch the rising steam as it tickles the bottom of your roommate's circular glasses when he leans over the counter to place the kettle back on its stand.

"It can be fun to read stories about a picture-perfect relationship sometimes," the boy continues. "Novels are the only forms of romances so pure and heartfelt. They're carefree, too," Minghao says in a hushed tone. "It makes me wonder why real-life isn't the same way."

You're now fiddling with the hem of your shirt when you whisper, "It could be."

Minghao looks up from his gaze on the teacups. He swears he sees a twinkle in your eye when you follow his movement to meet his stare.

"Relationships in real-life can be sincere and passionate too," you continue with a low voice to maintain the quiet three o'clock atmosphere. "Maybe not in the ideal way fiction can depict them to be, but that's what makes them real. It makes them human."

"Since when are you such a philosopher of romance," Minghao chuckles.

"At three in the morning, Hao, anything is possible."

"Anything, huh?" the boy smiles and nudges one of the mugs closer to you across the kitchen counter.

You softly thank him and take the cup in your hands. Your eyes focus on the teabag spinning in lazy circles, a solo slow dance on the surface of the hot water.

"Let's go sit down to drink our tea," you hear Minghao say as he begins to walk back to the couch.

You let him lead you, following behind in his shadow.

It's times like these where you aren't sure how close you should sit next to him. You sometimes wish you could curl up against his side and feel him hold you tightly in return, or even being able to rest your legs overtop his lap with his hand on your thigh.

Tonight, though, you take a seat at a respectful distance from the boy: about a couch cushion's length away.

Minghao rests his head on the sofa's backing, eyes trailing upwards to the speckled ceiling displaying the moving pictures of shadows from the foliage projected by the moon and streetlights outside.

"If you could have the perfect relationship, would you?"

Your eyes search for Minghao's once you hear his question, but he remains to look upwards and away from you.

You hesitate momentarily before saying, "No."

Minghao lowers his gaze and takes a sip of tea. He finally peers at you. "You wouldn't?"

You shake your head. "No. Because although disagreements and turmoil can be difficult to deal with, without either of them results in a relationship that won't grow," you take a small sip of your steaming tea. "If nothing else in life is perfect, then why should a relationship be that way?"

"Nothing's perfect, huh?" Minghao traces your facial features, trailing along the bridge of your nose and lingering at the dimple of your cupid's bow, but stopping himself before his gaze reaches the plush of your lips. He suddenly returns to your eyes, "But you have a point. Perhaps perfect relationships should stay within the pages of novels and works of fiction."

The wind rustles the tree branches nearby, and you find yourself bearing a small smile at Minghao's words. His gentle voice, combined with the warm mug of herbal tea in your hands, makes you lean deeper into the couch and pillows. Your eyelids suddenly feel heavier.

"I could lend you the book after I finish it if you'd like," the boy asks, turning his head to the side to gauge your reaction. But upon looking at you, he takes in the sight of your closed eyes with your head pressed against the couch backing, all while still sitting up.

Minghao's heart warms at the image. The boy drinks the remains from his cup before standing and moving to your side. He quietly places his mug on the table in front of him before slowly taking yours, still clutched between your hands, and setting your cup next to his on the coffee table. Your palms and fingers radiate the tea's warmth—his touch lingers.

"And you didn't even finish your tea," he whispers to no one, shaking his head with a smile.

He looks at you fondly before gently maneuvering your body to lie you down. Minghao gathers the blanket draped over the side of the couch and places it overtop of your body. He takes extra care to make sure it reaches all the way up to your chin but also without your toes peeking out from the bottom.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he speaks softly, carefully moving some stray hairs that have fallen onto your face.

Seeing you nuzzle into the soft blanket in your sleep nearly makes him coo at your cuteness.

An image pops into Minghao's head: he can picture himself leaning down, delicately kissing your forehead while his hand gingerly grazes the side of your face, thumb tracing the high of your cheekbone; he can feel your warmth radiate through his fingertips. He can feel your smile as it spreads across your cheeks. He can see your eyelashes flutter open and your eyes crinkling with your grin when you notice his proximity, your hand reaching up to thread into his hair when he leans in, and you close your eyes all over again–

But instead, Minghao decides he'll wait until you're awake so he can kiss you properly for the first time. He's not sure when it will happen—it could be this week or this month, perhaps when you're done with your semesters. It could be later today. It could be a year from now.

It may not ever happen for all the boy knows; what even are the odds that you return his feelings?

Minghao takes one last admiring look at you before he stands and retreats to his bedroom for a long-awaited sleep, collecting his novel from the edge of the couch on his way.

A pair of mugs remain on the coffee table—one entirely empty, one nearly full, but both belonging to hidden romantics. Buried feelings brew beneath the surface, steeping like the gradually darkening herbal tea.

••

[ketamineharry]

Cigarettes and Kush - Harry Lewis

Requested: Yes ~ Could I request where you and Harry have a huge argument and reader has a panic attack and freezy has to comfort her and Ik you don’t like fluff but could you maybe end it with Harry and reader make up but if you don’t like that you can change it x

You sat on the sofa in yours and Harry’s apartment, phone clutched in your hand. Immense worry was the only emotion that you could feel. Harry had been filming with the Sidemen, but it was late now. As you glanced down at the phone, you could see that you had phoned him at least five times without so much of a hint of a response. The time that you actually saw him, had only decreased the more that your relationship went on, you understood filming; as it was his way of making a living, but, he would stay after filming, having a drink or two with the lads. While you were sitting at home, patiently waiting for him.

You had rolled a joint for him and placed it on the kitchen counter, knowing that if he didn’t have one, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at a reasonable time; for his schedule anyway. Hastily, you scrawled a note on a piece of paper that you had found laying around, letting him know that you loved him. As the likelihood was, when he finally returned home, you would be curled up in bed fast asleep.

Reluctantly, you took yourself off to bed. Knowing, that if you stayed up, you’d only be more annoyed than worried. You couldn’t help but feel that what he was doing was slightly selfish, especially because he knew that the time you spent together was so important to you. You didn’t ask for much else. In fact anything else. Yet, he always seemed to prioritise partying with the lads over you.

You drifted off to sleep, only slightly stirring when you felt another weight clambering onto the bed. He was finally home. The time on the clock, stated that it was 3:24 in the morning. Which meant that he had been out of the house for more than twelve hours. At least he had tried to sneak into bed, without waking you up.

“I love you.” He whispered, as he snuggled up against you. His mind was a mixture of being too drunk and high to notice that you were awake, blankly staring at the ceiling as you contemplated what on Earth had happened to get you both into this state.

Instead of saying anything, you rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. He wasn’t going to take anything that you had to say seriously while he was in the state that he was, so you didn’t really have any other choice. You just hoped that he didn’t have a killer hangover in the morning, because you couldn’t deal with the arguments that would ensue just because you were trying to express how you felt.

-

When you woke up, Harry was already out of bed. Which was extremely unlike him. You walked out of the room and into the kitchen, where he was cooking some sort of eggs.

“Morning.” He beamed, as he looked up at you. “I know that I was out late with the boys last night, and I’m sorry. I just can’t say no to a drink.” He continued, a small chuckle fell from his lips as he did.

“Yeah I know.” You responded, not really having the energy to say anything else. The fact that he was so brazen about things, was what annoyed you the most.

“Look, what is the point of this?” You asked, slight annoyance laced your tone.

“Of what?”

“Of trying to make out that this is normal. That we’re a normal couple Harry. I hardly ever see you because you’re choosing the drink with the lads over me. We’ve not so much as said hello to each other in three weeks.” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air exasperatedly. “While you’re out enjoying yourself, I’m going out of my head with worry because I never know what’s happening with you. Yet, I’m the one rolling your joints to come home to so that you can have an easy night.”

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what else to say other than that.” He stated, almost defeatedly.

“Yeah, save it. I need a break from this whole situation. If, or, when you want to grow up and actually try and see if we can repair the damage that this has caused our relationship… I’ll be staying at Izzy and Cal’s house.” You told him, as you brushed past him and started to pack a bag.

“Y/N, please don’t do this.” Harry begged, as he stood at the doorway, watching you pack your belongings in a bag. A look of utter distraught all over his face. For both of your sakes, you had to ignore it and continue.

“I have to.” You whispered, as you swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. There was no way that you could cry in front of him, expect him to comfort you and still leave.

Once your bag was packed, you booked an Uber to Izzy and Cal’s apartment. It felt wrong, leaving him here on his own. But, if you didn’t do something drastic, you would be stuck in the same vicious circle and you weren’t sure how long you could do that for, before you started to hate him. Which is exactly what you didn’t want.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Harry said, as he clutched hold of your hand. The familiar sensation of warmth from his touch was there as always, but if you wavered now, it would just show him that you weren’t true to your word. Which is exactly the opposite of what you wanted.

“I don’t want to leave either, but it’s best for the both of us if I do.” You mumbled, in an attempt to comfort him.

Not knowing what else to say, to comfort either one of you, you left the apartment. Deciding that waiting for the Uber outside would be a lot easier for the both of you. As you closed the door, you took one last look at the man that you loved more than anything. You just hoped that he would do the right thing for the both of you.

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: The Rumble Of His Truck

Title: The Rumble of His Truck 1/1

Summary: Sy’s truck is big and it shakes the world. You miss him so much. 

Rating: Self indulgent fluff and a tinge of smut. Do you need a little longing and a little happiness and a little bit of rough naughtiness? This is for you.  ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Captain ‘Sy’ Syverson x YOU ( because you deserve some loving)

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

‘Wassa matter baby?’

His voice was rough and slurred with what sounded like the remnants of sleep.

You smiled, hearing him shifting and groaning, imagining that he must have been sleeping upright in his office chair when the ringing phone startled him out of an uncomfortable doze.

‘You awright?’

‘I’m fine,’ you lied. ‘I just wanted to hear your voice.’

The silence that followed made you feel uncomfortably exposed. Sy could read you like an open large print book and his lack of response told you that he didn’t believe a word you’d said.

And when he spoke, you jerked out of your own muse.

‘C’mon, baby. You wouldn’t be calling me at… 3am 'cus you wanted to hear my voice. Now, what’s the matter?’

That bastard.

‘Well,’ you continued, trying to inject some levity into the conversation, ‘I like your voice. It’s sexy.’

A beat passed and you took the moment to wriggle into the comfortable spot beneath your duvet.

‘Uh huh.’

You closed your eyes and revelled in the gravel in his voice. You loved the way he sounded just after waking. There was something so primal about his thicker than normal accent and the terseness of his words. As his brain hadn’t fully engaged with the world the moment he opened his eyes, he wanted you to get right to the point. That sexy voice now sounded incredulous.

‘I dunno,’ you began quietly, feeling a prickling of tears at the outer corners of your eyes and that familiar sensation of splotchy heat rushing up your neck.

Oh God, don’t cry. Don’t you cry!

Your throat convulsed and choked on the vague words you were going to use to assure him that you only wanted to hear his voice and maybe have a little phone sex. All you wanted was the fun easy stuff, not the darkness that slithered like an unchained beast in your gut, not the petty anger you felt about him always being away, not the surprising grief you experienced when the two of you parted, yet again.

You signed up for this life. You knew what you were getting into with a man who was never home. Eyes wide open and all of that rot, but yet you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling inexplicably angry about it. About all of it. 

Sy then made a noise that told you that he was thinking about something, that he was quietly considering his next words. He was assiduous with his words and when he spoke, people listened. You listened. It was one of the things you loved about him, and the thought of loving him made you pulse with heartache.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and soothing, pitched in a way you knew you didn’t deserve. You didn’t deserve his undaunted tenderness.

‘Baby. I miss you, you know that. I miss you all the time,’ he said, his tone reassuring.

‘I know,’ you answered, trying to hold back a girlish sob.

God, If I start crying, I’m going to waste the rest of this day with a headache.

‘You know I’d be right there with you, if I could. Right?’

You pressed your teeth into your lower lip and nodded, finally snuffling out a ‘Mmmhmm.’

‘I love you, baby.’

Your heart broke into pieces. There was nothing like his expression of love to wreck the whole of you.

‘I love you,’ you managed to squeak out. ‘I– I have to go.’

‘Babe,’ Sy said suddenly and you winced that you had aroused his suspicions. ‘Babe, wai–‘

You disconnected. And feeling sorry for yourself, you tossed the mobile aside then lay there staring into the dark.

He didn’t deserve to be treated like that, chided the voice in your head.

You blindly groped for the discarded mobile. One finger glanced against a cool rounded edge and you dragged it close, contemplating ringing him again, if only to apologise. Subjecting Sy to your own petulant whimsy really wasn’t fair. However, the childish part of you grumbled that /he/ should call back if he was that concerned. You flung the phone father away and groaned when you heard it thump against the carpeted floor.

Flipping onto your side and dragging the bedsheets around your face and shoulders, you resumed stewing over the hot miserable coal in your gut. 

It wasn’t long until sleep claimed you again.

**

Hours later, as you continued to doze lightly, blissfully floating just beneath the flimsy surface of sleep and uncaring about the outside world, something scratched at your attention. There was a noise in the distance and your consciousness reached up through the dreamy film to try to identify the audible intruder. Your brain followed it and rifled through its memory databanks, trying but failing to put a name to the object.

The noise drew closer and the sudden recognition of it slammed into place. It was the deep throated growl of a V8 Hemi engine that shattered the mid-morning silence. It roared up your driveway, husky and panting and unabashedly announcing its arrival.

You pushed yourself upright in bed as the room rattled around you.

No, you thought. It couldn’t be.

When the engine stopped, the whole world plunged back into silence, and with hands nervously clutching the duvet, you held your breath.

It couldn’t be.

You jumped at the  muffled noise of your front door slamming shut, and looked towards your closed bedroom door.

Heavy footsteps bounded up the stairs.

When the bedroom door opened, you tensed, waiting for it to bang nosily against the opposite wall and knock loose what was hanging there. But, it didn’t. Instead your unexpected visitor only pushed the door halfway open, and suddenly in rushed a great big slobbery and excited dog.

You scrambled out of bed in an instant, and threw your arms round the wriggling Alsatian.

‘Aika!’ you cried, voice loud and bright with delighted surprise just as the second figure came through the doorway.

You broke apart from the shaggy animal and looked up.

Sy.

He looked tired and road weary and even scruffier than the last time you’d seen him. Wearing a tan tee-shirt and dark jeans he smiled when you fell upon him like a ravenous predator. He swept you up in his strong arms and kissed you, opening your mouth with his eager tongue and dragging you even closer against his hot, sturdy body. He felt so good, so alive and smelling of the encroaching summer morning, that you couldn’t discern the differences between your melange of emotions.

You wasted no time stripping him out of his clothes and pulling him to bed. You didn’t bother to ask how or why he was there for when he pressed you onto your back and thrust hard into you, all rational thought slipped away. Sy pumped you full and didn’t stop his merciless onslaught until you were wailing and cumming on his thick veiny cock.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you gasped when he slid off of your hot thrumming body and lay at your side. ‘I’m sorry for being a jerk.’

You listened to his quick breathing and smiled when it finally slowed enough for him to speak clearly.

‘You were being a jerk,' he said with a fond chuckle.

You laughed happily and the knot of tension in your chest loosened and disappeared. How could you love this man any more?

‘What the hell are you doing here anyway! I thought you were… ‘

‘I just flew in last night. I was driving up here to surprise you. I had pulled into a rest stop to get in a nap when you called.’

You rolled onto one side and pushed against him. Sy lifted an arm and curved it around you drawing you in close. You put a hand on his belly and your cheek against his shoulder.

‘How long do I have you?’ you asked.

‘For a while,’ he answered vaguely and it was enough for you.

You were going to make the most of it.

-end

[manyfictionsmusings]

Pull Me Like A Ripcord

Summary:

This story takes place immediately after the events of X-Men Apocalypse, where Peter decides against going back to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, despite seeking his father’s attention prior. This fic will just be growing and “mutating” as I write but promising lots of Dad/son angst, hurt/comfort etc.

Chapter 1: AfterEffects

As naïve as it was, Peter had hoped Erik would somehow realize he was his son, now that idea seemed cold and stupid. Why would Erik magically know who he was? He wasn’t Charles, a mind reader, and this wasn’t a fantasy kingdom where the orphan got his father in the end of the story.

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest, or at least he would have if he could have moved his shattered knee, the pain, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the long day sent him easily to tears. He wasn’t used to losing, he wasn’t used to being physically injured. The finale of the Egyptian battle had seen the x-men triumph, but Peter himself had lost…lost another chance to connect with Erik, if only he’d been able to get the better of the Immortal it might have impressed his father enough to take note of him, but instead if it hadn’t been for Raven’s distractions, the Beast’s strength and his own father’s shift in loyalties, he would have been just another victim in the note book of Apocalypse.

Peter drew a shaky breath, trying to force the events to wash over him, normally things didn’t bother him, but the last few months he’d changed, the others here at the school, or what was left of the school…he didn’t want to call them family but that’s what they felt like to him. It scared him and it was too much to hope for, he’d been disappointed to many times to open up like that. Which was why he’d told Beast to take him to a regular hospital in Cairo and he’d make his own way home once he was healed.

Beast had had his reservations about it, leaving the scrawny, pale kid who’d been with them since he’d saved literally everyone at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters seemed a shitty way to repay him, but he’d finally consented to it, only after Peter had gotten angry and started yelling.

He felt lonely now, in the hospital bed, with an oxygen tube in his nose and his injured leg casted and hoisted by a sling, a thousand miles from anyone he knew, but the pain was reminding him of his failures as one of the x-men and the isolation served to remind him why he didn’t bother with people, especially his father.

They always left. Or were never there to begin with.

He deserved this.

“You don’t deserve any of this, Peter.”

Peter jolted, startled for only a second by the gentle voice, there was only one person it could be, to know what precisely he was thinking. He hurriedly wiped tears off his face before Charles came any closer.

“I told Beast I was fine. I don’t want anyone wasting any more time on me.”

“Beast didn’t tell your secret, but I was worried about you, Peter. You think I was going to just leave Egypt without you? I wouldn’t leave here without any of you.” Charles stepped closer, softly he took his hand and squeezed gently.  “You all mean so much to me. I owe you my life, Peter.”

He removed his hand and crossed his arms. “I didn’t do anything, if…if Erik hadn’t stepped in, we all would have been killed-including you.”

Charles glanced towards the monitors attached to the young man, before his eyes roamed across the physical state of Peter, in contemplation. “It was a group effort; it took all of us.” He finally spoke after a moment of hesitation. “I know you seek his attention and yet you’re afraid of it…Lehnsherr is coming back with us to New York, he’s going to help me rebuild the institution.”

Peter glanced up, his eyes reflecting a youthful hope the professor hadn’t seen for some time. “I thought he left.”

Charles shook his head. “It’s a way to…perhaps earn his attention, little by little anyway. What do you think? Will you return with me?”

Peter grimaced. “I’m not in great shape professor, encase you haven’t noticed. I might swing in when I’m up and around.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I know all your pains, I’m sorry. I put your life in such horrific danger-”

“I came along on the mission of my own free will, no one forced me,” Peter interrupted.

Charles gripped his shoulder suddenly with an assertive intention. “Let me oversee your recovery, Maximoff, please, it’s the least I can do. I won’t leave here until you agree to be transferred to a hospital in New York, preferably close to Salem Center. You don’t have to be bothered by anyone from the school. But knowing you aren’t in Egypt would put my mind at ease.”

Peter sighed, he was feeling it again, the warm sensation that made him relaxed and somehow extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Family was something he would never be able to hold on to. He was going to mess it up, he knew that. He could already feel the threads slipping between pale, desperate, grasping fingers. But in the meantime, Charles cared about him enough to hunt him down in one of many Cairo hospitals, and he’d checked in under an alias. The professor cared enough to come back, or had he never left in the first place? His caring nature was beyond consolation to Peter’s broken, cold body, so comforting in fact he felt tears welling up again!

He sniffled and hurriedly wiped his brow before their return, nodding. “I’ll come with you.”

Professor Xavier had kept his word, medically and financially he’d arranged for everything to be taken care of, transporting Peter from Cairo to New York. He’d also arranged for him to have his own private room in Sheeran Hospital—a private hospital in upstate New York, forty-five miles from the current disaster of Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

Over the next two weeks physically Peter’s injuries slowly healed but mentally he felt wrecked beyond compare. He started having reoccurring nightmares that he couldn’t run; his ability had been fractured when the monstrosity had snapped his leg like a twig under his boot. In the dream he was trying to run away from someone, his first thought was that it was Apocalypse but a couple nights later he realized it was just a shadowy figure, one he could never outrun. Each time he fell, immobilized as pain shot through his leg, the sound of his own bones crunching reverberated in his ears, just as it had that day.

The nurses had unfortunately taken note of his mood, though Peter hadn’t put much effort into hiding his grim attitude, he’d slipped in a snarky remark about getting some extra drugs for an overdose. The nurse didn’t find his dark humor amusing and Charles suspiciously showed up the very next day.

He didn’t say much at first, just sat near Peter’s bed, looking out the enormous rectangle window that looked west, on a glowing sunset. “You have a good view though,” he finally spoke.

Peter pursed his lips. “I do appreciate your hospitality Professor, but I’m fine, you don’t have to check in on me. Just... really bored here you know, I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place this long…it’s wearing on me, I feel weird being at this speed.”

Charles turned his chair to face him, hands in his pockets, yet concern on his features. “Must be very uncomfortable to be forced to slow down. How’s physical therapy going?”

Peter avoided the older man’s gaze for some reason and snorted. “I mean it’s slow, I’m not the patience type or a patient for that matter…”

Charles nodded. “But the sooner you’re hobbling around, the sooner I can get you out of here.”

“And take me where?” Maximoff snipped with his signature deep-set frown.

Charles chuckled, “You’d be surprised what several telekinetic mutants can accomplish when it comes to construction. The east wing is already rebuilt, for now we’re using it for sleeping quarters. It’s a little crowded but…”

“…Anything is better than the smell of hospital?” Peter finished, trying to keep his mind in constant motion—moving from thought to thought. He didn’t know how much the professor knew about what he was thinking but Xavier had already noted his inward conception about seeking Erik’s attention in Egypt, so his guess was he was an open book, but Peter’s thoughts could be about as fast as his movement when we wanted them to be. “Well sounds like I need to hit therapy harder, if you’re actually going to get me out of here.”

As much as Peter didn’t intend to be shambling around a cramped wing in the school, Charles’ visit served to kick him in the butt about getting out of Sheeran soon, regardless of where he went afterward. And if he was being honest, he had never planned to go back to the school, though he also wasn’t ready to face his reasoning for not returning there.

No one was going to miss him, well not the one person that mattered, because he couldn’t even see Peter for who he was. A new plan had quickly formulated—get his leg in good enough shape to slip off before Charles came back for him and circumvent the entire situation altogether.

The nightmares continued to plague him, as day after day he added a little weight to the tender broken leg, between tears and a lump that had formed on his lip from how many times he had bit it to deal with the pain, he started making it all the way through the routes the therapist had set up for him. Once he realized he could make it to the end of the routine he had to mentally stop himself from trying out his true speed. He continually checked himself, forced himself to be normal, move slowly. He embraced the pain wholly, promising himself a whole box of Lemonheads when he got out of here.

A week and two days after Charles’ visit, Peter decided he was going. He’d woke up from his worst nightmare by far, clutching his throat, covered in sweat, his heart was beating hard enough his chest ached. His leg was throbbing with shadow pain from Apocalypse breaking it, only in this dream he hadn’t been saved before the giant mutant had slit his throat and tossed him aside like trash. His father hadn’t even noticed or cared.

Peter swallowed painfully, still tracing his fingers across the smooth, blanched flesh of his neck as he slipped out of bed. His x-men costume had been lost somewhere in the shuffle, or maybe the professor had taken it, either way Charles had been kind enough to replace it with his current pajamas and a change of clothing. Not the usual silver tinted clothing but considering he still wasn’t up to his Quicksilver speed, it seemed fitting to pull on the dark blue jeans and faded orange hoodie. Peter sighed in comfort at the velvety worn state of both items as they contacted his skin, though he tried to ignore how billowy the clothes were on him, he’d lost a significant amount of weight since Egypt—which the nurses had been lecturing him over—but what could you expect when there was only hospital food and no snacks to be seen.

Next Peter attempted to calm his silvery hair, by brushing his fingers through it repeatedly, which only seemed to make it worse. Between the wild shock of hair and the dark rimmed eyes, his reflection looked ghostly, coupled with the dim hospital lighting.

Peter exhaled calmly before grabbing the only items that had made it back with him from Egypt, his googles and his earphones, he stuck one of the foreign crutches under each armpit and silently slipped out of Sheeran Hospital…

[pagingevilspawn]

Can you write a fix just full of jolex fluff or jo and Luna fluff Because I really need something from Thursday episode?

clair de lune

wc: 2.2k

pairing: none. Jo & Luna mother-daughter relationship.

summary: sweet little moment between jo and luna

rating: general audiences.

category: fluff.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff. (also, lots of time skips, but that's intentional)

AN: ik you requested this after 17x16 anon, but i hope this still works now! this is easily the fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i hope you enjoy! also, sorry my fics have been so short lately...but what can you do. (contemplated posting this in a couple days, but ultimately didn't. don't start thinking i'll start posting regularly now though haha)

____

“Welcome home Luna,” she says to the quiet apartment, reveling in the way it felt like a home. She sits on the floor, rocking the car seat back and forth while her little girl sleeps, her fist curled into the blanket Link had gifted her a few months prior. She uses her finger to trace the outline of Luna’s nose, giggling silently when it scrunches up in her sleep.

She glances around the apartment, large and spacious in the matter of there was no furniture in it. New things would be delivered soon, but for now she had herself, her little girl, a mattress, and a Pack ‘N Play, and wouldn't wish for anything else.

Luna squirms a bit in her seat, and Jo thinks she’s going to wake up, when she really just circles her hand around Jo’s finger that had fallen close to her chest.

She feels her heart clench, immediately scrabbling at her phone to capture the moment, breathing a sigh of relief when the picture is taken and her baby hadn’t moved.

With that, another photo is added to the album she had labeled under Luna, and she laughs to herself at the absurd amount of pictures she already had of her daughter.

After a few minutes had gone, she tries to remove her finger to get a snack, but settles back down when Luna’s grip around her finger just tightens.

She sighs, but it’s more of a promise to the words that she says next.

“I’ll never leave you, I promise.”

_____

She was driving frantically through the streets of Seattle, rain beating down against her windshield as she made a turn. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, nibbling on it until she could taste the copper on her tongue.

Pulling into the parking garage she stops the car haphazardly into the nearest space, snatching her purse so quickly from the passenger seat it nearly whips her in the face.

While in the elevator she pushes the top floor button so many times it nearly breaks, tapping her foot against the cool marble tile. Normally, she would marvel at the way that the elevator had such flooring (three months of living there and she still wasn’t used to such luxury) but tonight it was the furthest thing from her mind.

When the doors finally slide open, she’s out of them so quickly she nearly trips over her own feet, brushing multiple strands of dark hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ears and out of her eyes. She swings the door of her home open, not even caring to notice the sound it made when it banged against the wall, too focused on the cries coming from the nursery.

Before she even reaches the room, the nanny comes out, carrying a crying Luna in her arms, trying to calm her down with gentle words and hushes.

“Oh thank god,” she says, exhaustion plain on her features. “I've been trying to get her to quiet down for over thirty minutes now. I’ve tried feeding her, changing her, rocking her, but nothing’s worked. I called you as soon as I knew you would be off work. I’m so sorry Jo, it’s just that—”

“—Hey, hey,” she says gently, taking her daughter from the girl. “It’s okay, I’ve got it from here. Thank you, take thirty from my wallet,” she starts rocking Luna in her arms, the screaming cries coming slowly to a stop once she comes to the realization that she was in her mother’s arms.

The nanny lets out a sigh, “How—? I mean, I’ve tried everything, but—” she stops, tucking the money into her back pocket as she watches Luna’s cries settle down to soft whimpers.

Jo smiles gently, locking eyes with the younger woman, “Sometimes she just needs her Mom.”

____

They were currently in the middle of a very intense game of peek-a-boo, Luna giggling and clapping her hands like crazy every time Jo would reveal herself behind her hands, each grin from the little one bringing one to Jo’s face as well. She could listen to the sound of her daughter’s laugh all day.

After one more boo, Luna laughs so much she falls back onto the couch, squirming and kicking her legs into the air, and Jo scoops her up, blowing kisses on her belly and ticking her little feet. “Mama’s so silly isn’t she?” she teases snuggling her nose with Luna’s.

“Mama, Mama!” she babbles, clapping her chubby palms against Jo’s face.

Jo freezes, not even noticing a small tear had escaped her eyes until she sees it fall on the tiny girl’s onesie. She smiles immediately, her cheeks hurting from how wide she was grinning.

“Yeah baby girl, I’m your Mama,” she hugs her daughter close to her chest, placing tiny kisses on the tuft of hair on her head, letting her happy tears fall freely, her heart so full she felt that it could burst.

The happiness she felt in that moment was greater than one she had ever felt before, and she knew it was a moment she would ever be able to forget.

It was official, she was a mom.

____

“Mommy, mommy!” Luna squeals, running and attaching herself to her mom’s legs the second she walks through the door, latching herself on so tightly Jo doubted anyone would be able to pull her off.

She crouches down and takes her girl in her arms, brushing back her hair from her face, “Hi Lunes,” she places a kiss on her forehead. “I missed you, you know that?”

“I missed you too, Mommy!” the three year old grins, grabbing her mom’s hand and dragging her through Meredith’s house, into the playroom that had somehow held up over years and generations of kids passing through.

She pulls up a plethora of drawings, shoving them into her mom’s hands. “Look Mommy, I made pictures,” she uses her finger to point at the drawing, “That’s you, that’s me, and that’s Chewy!” she exclaims, stopping on a figure which Jo could only assume was their pet goldfish.

“It looks amazing baby,” she places another peck on her daughter’s temple, taking in the scent of her shampoo. Three days without seeing her daughter was torture, but now that she was back home she felt like she could breathe again.

“Make one with me Mommy, then we can be matching,” Luna reasons, already pulling crayons out of the box and displaying them on the table.

Jo looks up to Meredith in the doorway, who only grins. “Go ahead, all she’s been talking about for the past three days is how much she missed you.”

The brunette’s expression relaxes, “Thanks again Mer, I hope she was okay,” she says, using her green crayon to draw the grass in her picture.

Meredith only scoffs, “Are you kidding? She was perfect. She’s my favorite goddaughter for a reason,” she says as she picks up some stray toys that were scattered across the room and tucks them into the chest.

“Were you good for Auntie Mer, Lunes?” Meredith asks the girl, who only nods excitedly.

“Yeah! I ate all my food and I go to sleep early,” she picks up a brown crayon and starts to draw hair on her picture, tongue poking out of her mouth as she focuses.

“You did!” Jo beams, voice cheery and happy when she sees that Meredith had no objections to Luna’s words. “I’m so proud of you baby.”

A little while later, both Wilson’s are done with their picture, and Luna pouts when they put the two next to each other. “Your’s is better,” she whines.

“What!” Jo gasps dramatically, taking Luna and placing her in her lap, wrapping her arms around her . “I think yours is so much better than mine Lunes.”

“Really?”

Jo ruffles her hair, “Oh yeah,” she picks up the drawing and holds it up as if showing it in the light added extra flair. “This one’s going up on the fridge.”

____

Shaking her daughter gently, she brushes her hair out of her eyes, stopping briefly when she feels Luna’s forehead. “Wake up sweetie, you have to get up and I need to take you to daycare.”

Luna groans, “Mommy, my head hurts.” she winces, putting her hand to her head and squeezing her eyes tightly shut, her bottom lip trembling.

Jo’s face immediately twists into a frown, placing her lips to Luna’s forehead, pulling away when she feels the heat practically radiating off of her.

As if she could read her thoughts, Luna immediately rips the comforter off of her. “It’s too hot Mommy.”

Jo hums, concern pooling in the bottom of the stomach; even though all her daughter most likely had was a common case of the flu, the doctor in her couldn’t help but imagine the worst scenarios.

When Luna lets out a hacking cough, she immediately lets the girl bury her head in her chest. “Can I stay with you today Mommy? I don’t feel very good.”

Jo nods, “Of course baby, of course. I’m just going to call work and then I'll take care of you okay?” When Luna agrees she untangles herself from the girl’s hold, quickly rushing back to her room and calling into work, telling them that she wouldn’t be able to make it in that day. She prepares some saltines and medicine, carrying them back to the room where Luna was clutching to her stuffed bunny, another violent cough ripping through her.

She places the crackers down on the bedside table, eventually coaxing Luna into taking the medicine, which she tries to spit out not even seconds after she takes a sip.

“Let’s go to my room, okay? That way you can watch some TV,” Jo says softly, lifting her up and into her arms when she nods, grabbing the crackers for later.

When Luna finally settles into her bed, she curls up to her mom the second she lays down. Jo puts on Disney Jr, and a Puppy Dog Pals re-run plays, lulling Luna into a temporary state of peace.

The rest of the day is filled with lots of soup, crackers, blankets, ice packs, Disney Jr, and so many tissues the wastebasket had started to spill over, but when Luna gets up the next day, completely fine, Jo’s more than relieved.

And when a few days later, Jo wakes up with the same symptoms Luna did a few days prior, the little girl tries to take care of her mother the same way she did her.

_____

Wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks, Jo does a final comb through of her hair, letting it fall into uneven waves. It was too early to cry, there would be plenty of time for that later. “Lunes, ready to go?” she yells, stepping out of the bathroom and sliding on her shoes.

“Yeah Mommy. We need to go now or we’re gonna be late!” Luna stomps into her room, arms crossed over her chest, bottom lip puckered out in an adorable little pout.

Where Luna got her sense of urgency from, she wasn’t sure.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jo laughs to herself, grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder, taking Luna’s hand as they exit the house. “Wait, wait,” Jo says, stopping outside the door and rushing back inside to return with a blackboard saying ‘First Day of Kindergarten!’.

Luna sighs, but takes the board anyway and holds it up in front of their apartment door, smiling for the camera. When Jo had taken enough, she grabs Luna’s hand again, running to the car with her.

It only takes a few minutes before they arrive at the school, and both girls rush to the line for Mrs. Blake’s class, thankful that they hadn’t gone in yet. Luna makes conversation with the little girl in front of her, Kayla, and Jo talks to her mom, Christy, thankful that she wasn’t as stuck up as some of the other parent’s around them seemed. It was a private school, much different than the ones she had spent her childhood growing up in. She had promised herself ever since she was little that whatever children she had would have a different upbringing than her, and she took that to heart. Even if that meant paying for a ridiculously overpriced private school, with preppy uniforms, and parents that had jobs ranging from lawyers to actors.

When Mrs. Blacks comes out, she introduces herself and lets the parents say goodbye, she feels the pricks of tears in her eyes, trying to no avail to keep them from sliding down her cheeks.

She bends down to her daughter’s height, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting it rest on her rosy cheek. She sighs deeply, biting her bottom lip to stop it from wobbling.

“You be good, okay Lunes?”

The little girl nods. “I will. Don’t be sad Mommy.”

Jo laughs, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, releasing her only to rest her forehead against hers. “I love you baby.” she says, and she knows she’ll have to let her daughter go soon, off to start a new adventure, a new chapter in her life that has really only just begun.

“I love you too Mommy.”

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 3

Maul x Sith Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Drinking, fluff

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      Alas, all moments come to an end. This one, with your eyes lazily opening to the slightest appearance of red sunlight outside the viewport above your head. You stretched and realized you were in a bit of an entanglement of limbs with your master. Your legs intertwined behind you. His chest pressed firmly to your back and his arms wrapped around your stomach, your hands holding his around you.

    Still mostly asleep, he pulled you closer to him and grumbled something about a few more minutes and a small smile danced across your lips. However, not wanting this precarious position to warrant any kind of awkward conversation you slipped from his grasp and made your way to the door. Looking back for just a moment to see his red and black hand patting around where you once lay. Trying not to chuckle you strode off the ship, greeting Angel who had returned from his hunt. You began your morning strength training because at the end of the day, nothing had changed. At the same time everything had, you just didn't realize it yet.

 ~~~~~

      Cold air pricked at Maul's skin, now exposed due to your absence. His eyes opened just in time to see his bedroom door shut behind you. He refrained from getting up too quickly and instead rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose.

��   Why could he still smell your sweet earthy scent? Why did your hair tickle his cheek in such gentle way? He breathed a heavy sigh, trying as he might to push these intrusive thoughts from his mind. You were his apprentice, and a powerful one at that with the potential to go down in history as one of the strongest Sith lords in the galaxy, he couldn't risk that outcome. You had simply needed reassurances after experiencing a trauma that wasn’t conductive to your training. He still wished you were lying beside him though.

    He took the opportunity to glance out of the view port and watched you doing push-ups beside your Angel. He observed you when you stopped and looked at the beast who met your gaze, picking up his robe and walking over to a tree. You held up the robe in front of your body and when it fell you were nowhere in sight. The rancor started whining and sniffing the fallen robe before you popped out from the top of the tree exploding with laughter at the creature’s surprise. The ground shook as the semi-sentient being chased you around the camp. Still howling with laughter, you stayed just out of his grasp.

    Maul shook his head and smiled at your simplistic joy, feeling the power around you swell from the emotion. A prime example of what you had told him last night. He made his way to the kitchenette and readied some hot caf while searching for food, coming across some fresh bread, no doubt you had made the evening before trying to stave off sleep before succumbing in the chair. Astounded at how crisp and fluffy it was.

    Taking his time, he sauntered out of the ship with two cups of caf to find you perched in a tall tree, just out of the reach of your frustrated pet.

"If you're done playing with your little friend, we have work to attend to young one.”

"Of course Master, my apologies for my distraction." You called, pretending to faint off of your branch only to be caught in Angel's hand. "Thank you, cutie." You cooed before making your way over to your master, still a look of amusement on your face. The rancor, now bored, walked back over to his makeshift nest and closed his eyes.

Gratefully accepting the outstretched mug, you took a long heavenly swill and rolled your eyes.

"I honestly can't tell if your affections for the beast are genuine or a long-lasting joke."

"Eh, kinda both I guess. Well, it started out as a joke for sure but I am starting to love that monster. Like I said last night, he’s a good boy.”

"You do realize we can't take him with us, yes?"

"Yes, master I'm fully aware I can't smuggle a fully grown rancor under my bunk or inside a cabinet when we do leave this place." You chuckled. "Still, I have this... unrelenting feeling that I will need him before we disembark."

"Tis the will of the force..." Maul took another sip of the hot beverage. "Or you're bordering on the edge of insanity." He smirked quite pleased with himself. Forgetting for a moment that he was your master you bumped him with your hip, "ugh I'm wounded."

"You will be if we don't work on what you call forms with your saber," returning your bump.

"Fair enough." You sighed, downing the last of your caf.

    Hours went by and you hadn't even sparred. He continuously worked you through forms. Constantly having to stop you and roughly reposition your hips, arms or legs when you weren't taking the verbal ques as well as he liked. His brow creasing deeper the longer you went on. You made progress but it was painfully slow. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, an almost trademarked gesture at this point.

"That's enough, take a few minutes. I don't know who needs a break more, you or I."

You groaned and flopped onto the pressed ground, hard.

    Maul sat a few feet away from you, legs crossed under him silent for a few minutes before he spoke confounded.

"I don't understand. You can create lightning, touch the minds of beasts, sense the force in the planet amongst other talents I'm sure you have that I haven't seen yet. I've seen you other weapons, wielding that spear you made like you were born with it clutched in your grasp and your standard hand to hand combat is... graceful, fluid yet grounded, strong and sure but as soon as you pick up this blade in particular it's as if that all falls away. Why?"

"The crystal within this weapon is not mine. It belonged to the Jedi T'chooka D'oon and every time I ignite it, I can feel his presence. Watching me. A voiceless whisper constantly reminding me that I was unworthy of the teachings of the Jedi I didn't even want. Try as I might to scratch that itch, to stave the prickling I haven’t been able to push his soul completely out. Only pissing him off apparently."

Your master contemplated this newfound information.

"The crystal hasn't been tortured enough." The question in your eyes shone as you turned to him. Maul continued.

"When a Sith steals a saber from a jedi they must torture it until the presence leaves and the saber turns red. You seem to have done enough to change the pigment but not drive away the light force within. I'm afraid you have stolen the weapon of a rather powerful jedi, despite the fact that he fell to the Droid General Grievous."

"It doesn't feel right in my hands. Something does call to me from afar though.. A thought rings in my mind but I don't know if there's truth in it or wishful thinking."

    Maul uncrossed his legs and faced you. One knee bent, resting his arm on it, the other extended just barely brushing his foot to yours.

"What is this thought?"

You turned, laying on your side and propped your head on your hand but not pulling your foot away from his.

"Is it possible... to form a crystal of your own. Not find one in the jedi temples but to create one?"

"Hmmm, further proof you are indeed connected strongly with those who came before you. An almost archaic rite of passage for the Sith of old. They stopped and simply found it easier to corrupt a jedi's kyber but they did in fact used to make their own. If there's anywhere in the universe that the means to do still exist it will be in the temple on Malachor. Perhaps a crystal for you already exists there if you’re feeling a pull."

    You nodded in understanding. Looking to him with another unspoken question. He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Yes, we can go. I estimate that Savage won't return to normal for another few weeks. Besides, I told you we would get you some clothes of your own. You can't wear mine forever."

"True, but it's a shame. They look so much better on me." Maul chuckled at this as he stood up taking a moment to admire you. "That may be the case but I had them first and I can be very territorial." He extended his hand and helped you to your feet.

"Kiss your little friend over there good bye and meet me in the cockpit."

"But of course Master." You drawled while giving him an obnoxious bow.

    He watched you as you bid Angel farewell and the two of you turned to walk different directions. You towards the ship and him back to the forest. Eagerly you scrambled onto the ship and took the seat at your master's side within the cockpit. He punched in the coordinates to Corellia once you left the atmosphere so you could refuel and restock supplies. The stars stretched as the ship went into hyperspace and you threw your hands in the air as if you were on a rollercoaster. Maul simply gave you a side eye.

"Ugh." You groaned. "I miss Savage he always laughs at my jokes." This made Maul smile, happy you didn't seem to hold anything against his brother.

"Get comfortable, it's a long flight. We will be stuck in here for about two standard rotations."

"Alright, alright I hear you."

    You stood and made your way towards the common area in the middle of the ship. Rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat or something to do, boredom already getting the better of you just at the thought of being in a small space. You didn't hear your master leave the cockpit and stand in the doorway to watch you.

"If you're already bored it's going to be a miserable flight for you." You jumped, completely and utterly caught.

"How did you sneak up on me, no one can."

He smirked and opened the one drawer you hadn't yet, pulling out a deck of cards.

"I am the master am I not?" He sat and shuffled the cards nodding towards your usual seat.

"You might be my Master but I'm the master when it comes to sabacc. Deal at your own risk."

"I believe I'll take that risk."

    After both winning and losing a few hands in silence and with small talk Maul asked you, "so where did you learn to play."

"I watched adults play outside cantinas when I was a youngling. One of the patrons, an older man noted my interest and offered to teach me. It put food in my belly most nights. You?"

"My Master taught me also when I was young." He played a card. "It was the only time I can remember where I wasn't sleeping, training or learning some kind of lesson. Did your kin not worry about you hanging around old men outside a cantina or teach you the game themselves"

"I lost them before I was old enough to play. Although I'm sure they would've worried should they had been around during my cantina days." Now you played a card.

Maul leaned back in his chair not taking his eyes off of his hand. "How did they die?" You paused at this, causing Maul to take a quick glance at you. A painful look on your face lay just behind your eyes. It was not one that he had seen before. Snapping out of it you smirked. "Another time perhaps master." You laid down a winning hand looking quite pleased with yourself and sticking your tongue out playfully.

"You're a sore winner." He snarled but there was humor laced in his words. You simply shrugged.

"I'm a Sith. Aren't we supposed to be a sore everything?" He smiled and threw his hand down telling you to shuffle and deal while he grabbed a few glasses and a bottle of Cassandran Brandy.

 ~~~~~

      Countless rounds had been lost and won between the two of you. The more you drank the easier your face flushed and you could have sworn Maul eyed your form more than a few times. Your eyelids were starting to feel heavy as your master spoke up.

"Alright apprentice, you've lost the last five rounds in a row its painfully obvious it’s time to rest."

"One more round!" You protested "I'm not tired yet."

"Fine but let's make it interesting.." the brandy had given him inflated courage thinking back on the previous night when he could hold you. Wanting that feeling again.

"If I win.. you’ll share my bed with me again. If you win... I'll share my bed with you." He had hoped you were too drunk to catch that. You weren't but you pretended to be.

"You're on."

    Like the last five rounds you lost this one too, groaning in defeat. Maul just chuckled and stood as you did.

"Deals a deal and I'm exhausted." You told him. He very gently guided you back to his room so you wouldn't stumble. He tossed a clean tunic over your direction and made his way towards the fresher. Not moving until you heard the water running you grinned and smelled the new garb. It smelled like him still. You smiled. Once you were dressed you hopped under the covers and lay your head down.

    His bed was much more comfortable than yours was. You closed your eyes as you heard the water shut off.

 ~~~~~

      Maul stood in the doorway and observed you for just a second. He had thought you were asleep so you surprised him when you lifted your head and met his gaze.

"Are you coming? It's chilly up here in space and I swear you must run at a thousand degrees."

    He shook his head trying to contain a grin. "You're so impatient apprentice."

But still he made his way to the bed and lay next to you. Not wanting to initiate contact, fearing you might construe his intentions. To his inner delight you turned and draped yourself over him. Taking his arm and wrapping it around you. Knowing you couldn't see his face he smiled widely, holding you tightly. With his free hand he ran his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep. He wasn't far behind you.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame V

Author’s Note: Chapter 5, things take a turn for the dramatic and a bit angsty here. I really am having fun getting reacquainted with this story, and I have a lot planned for future chapters and an ending. Thanks for being such a wonderful audience, your feedback is always appreciated!

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2307

Warnings: Master/Servant dynamic, mentions of suicide attempt, blood, angst

Ivar was exhausted as he propelled his way forward through the city streets. He had opted to stay up on the walls with his warriors through the cold night. It had served to enliven the men into a frenzy to have his presence, but he had only done so out of avoidance.

As the days went by, it seemed his little nun had less to say to him. The truth of the priest's death weighed heavily on you, and you carried it around like a sickness. You had lost your desire to argue or even to spare a simple word. Ivar was disappointed. He had given up trying to teach you his language when you had refused to repeat everything he taught you. The only way he could spurn a reaction out of you was to address you as Ólaug, but even that enjoyment had waned.

Thoughts of revenge against Lagertha were never far from his mind, nor was Kattegat. The heathen army was not destined to stay in York, but while Ubbe and Hvitserk were fixated on settling in on Saxon farmlands, Ivar had other ambitions. He was torn by the enticing idea to travel and become a conqueror, or return to Norway and have his revenge for his mother's death. His brothers looked to have abandoned that notion, leaving him alone and frustrated with his hatred. They would say it was because they did not want to fight with Bjorn, but Ivar knew it was that they didn't love their mother as much as he had.

Ivar did not like feeling so lost. It made him feel like a boy again, only now Floki wasn't there to give him guidance. He was certain he was fated to cross paths with the rangy lunatic one day, but what madness would lead them back together was not foretold. Without Helga, Floki had become as empty as a horn with no mead. Ragnar had vanished for ten years, yet Ivar could not recall his mother ever being heartsick over his absence. Not all love was meant to last.

The concept of love and marriage was something he had been considering more often as of late. As a leader to his people and a son of Ragnar, it would be expected of him to have a wife and heir. Ubbe was already married, and Hvitserk likely had fathered a brood of children he didn't know about. Where did that leave him? Even if he took a wife, it wouldn't be long before the people would speak about the lack of an heir. Ivar did not consider himself to be nurturing, but for his own children, he would have tried. Now it seemed impossible that they could ever exist.

"Ivar."

He was broken out of his dour thoughts by Hvitserk. It took half of his own stride for his brother to catch up to him. Even with the braces and crutch, his mobility was limited, but he chose to take the muscles he had built as a victory. Though his legs were useless, they no longer hung from his waist like gnarled tree branches. They almost appeared normal, except that they couldn't bear his weight. 

"You have news," Ivar guessed to Hvitserk, who had slowed to match his pace.

"Our scouting party has returned with word that the Saxons have made camp south of here. They don't appear to have a plan of attack yet. Maybe now is the best time to negotiate for land when we have the advantage."

Hvitserk's tone was pleading, and Ivar was sure he could get him to grovel with the right persuasion. 

"Yes, we have the advantage. So why compromise our position for negotiations that will end in rejection," Ivar said, and he delighted as Hvitserk's face fell. "The Christians do not want us here, brother. If we want land then we'll take it."

"At least let me or Ubbe go. We don't have to give up our position behind the walls, but we can send one of us to negotiate, as a son of Ragnar."

"And risk losing a brother to the enemy? No, that would be foolish and I would appear ill-advised," He said, rounding the corner towards his room with Hvitserk following. 

His intention hadn't been to return to his chamber, but with Hvitserk's desperation and his lethargy, fate had brought him back to the familiar door. Thoughts of sleep were welcome, even if he detested retiring during daylight. 

"This decision should be made with all three of us. We need to sit down with Ubbe first before anything is final," Hvitserk said, not abandoning his cause.

Ivar let out a sigh before casting a long look at his brother. This was important to him, and to Ubbe. He didn't want to continue to have strife with his brothers, even if they didn't share the same aspirations for the army. "I agree."

"Really?" Hvitserk's mouth hung half opened as if awaiting another argument. "Well...then let's do that."

"Yes, fine." Ivar waved his hand, hoping to banish him from his sight. 

Opening the door to his room, he had hoped Hvitserk would take the hint to leave, but instead, they were met with a startling sight. The air stung with the smell of copper, and there was Ólaug, on your knees weeping. The stone floor before you had a puddle of blood, enough to fill a large pitcher, and you were clutching your left wrist. A gash had been cut there, and lying on the ground next to the blood was the weapon. It was a broken piece of a clay plate.

Ivar threw his crutch to the side and dropped to the ground in a heap of twisted bones and metal. His braces were heavy, but he managed to crawl to you quicker than he would have walked. Ignoring any proper thoughts of decency, he pulled you to him to inspect the damage.

"Get a healer, now," He shouted to Hvitserk who had stuck to the doorway, disturbed by what he had witnessed. The order got him moving, and he disappeared to fetch a healer while Ivar tried to stanch the bleeding with his larger hand over yours.

"You stupid Christian, look what you've done," Ivar hissed. He was sitting in your blood, the warmth seeping through his trousers. Your back was held tight to his chest while he tried to keep from jostling you around.

"Forgive me," You uttered over again, and Ivar knew the words were not meant for him.

This was the closest you had been together since the first night you had spoken. You were still devoted to your weak God, and Ivar wasn't certain you had even taken heed of his proximity. To take one's own life was cowardice, and he couldn't understand what had driven you to act on such an impulse. You were pitiful, in need of comfort, and he was enraged. After the courtesy, he had shown you this was how you chose to escape him. His hand clenched tight on your arm, his nails biting into flesh until you whimpered.

Just as he contemplated finishing the work you had started, and it would have been simple to take the clay shard to your throat, Hvitserk returned with a healer.

"You need to move, Prince. I must see what I'm dealing with," said Audhild. She was their most senior healer, a broad woman with wiry blonde hair and shrewd green eyes. With skillful hands, she tended to battle wounds, not Christian thralls. If she had any grievances about being summoned, she hid them behind a stern face of practicality. 

Ivar passed you over to Audhild. You had grown cold and quiet, ceasing your own utterances to your God. Hvitserk was at his side with a hand and his crutch to lift him off the floor. The first thing Ivar sought once he got back on his feet was the bucket of tepid, clean water to wash up. He had been covered in the blood of his enemies before, but when his hands hit the water and darkened it to a murk, he felt a strange sadness.

"What happened to her hair?" Hvitserk questioned, coming to stand at Ivar's side.

"She did that to herself," mumbled Ivar. He wasn't in the mood to entertain all of Hvitserk's questions. "Just more Christian nonsense."

"It could have been worse," Hvitserk intoned in a low voice. "At least she didn't keep this hidden and try to kill you in your sleep."

Ivar looked at the jagged piece of clay in Hvitserk's hand before resuming his wash up. He couldn't make out his own reflection through the filth of the water, but he could feel the frown on his face. The thought had never crossed his mind, and he was certain it hadn't crossed his nun's either. 

"No, she would never risk the wrath of her God by murdering me," He said, drying his hands on a rag.

"You sound confident." Hvitserk's tone lacked the same strength. 

"Yes, here we are," He quipped, tossing the sodden rag at his brother. "This isn't my blood that was spilled."

Hvitserk set the rag aside, along with the makeshift knife. He seemed prepared to argue further but was interrupted by Audhild. She had far less blood on her hands and appeared satisfied with her work. 

"The cut was not deep enough to be fatal. A part of her must have wanted to live," said the healer.

"No, it was fear of her God. Sinners go to Hell." It was utter nonsense that kept you alive, he was certain of it.

Audhild's eyes crinkled to a squint, unsure what to make of this information. "Well, her wound will heal, but she'll need to eat and drink to replenish what she lost."

Ivar peered passed Audhild to his thrall. You were whiter than your old virginal robes, and your head was bowed. Except for the rise and fall of your chest, you were still like a statue. He had no kind thoughts towards you at that moment.

"Take her to the kitchen to be fed. She can remain there with the other thralls," said Ivar, turning away. 

Hvitserk perked up at the remark and came forward. "You aren't keeping her?"

"No, I have no use for a cowardly slave."

While Hvitserk looked alarmed by his callousness, Audhild appeared thoughtful. "Excuse me my Prince, but before you make that decision, might I inquire about her usefulness? If she was a nun prior to this, then she should have skills to aid me. They tend to their sick and dying, not to goats and pigs."

"Fine then, you take her," Ivar huffed. "Just get her away from me."

Audhild said nothing more, taking her dismissal as she went to collect you from the floor. 

You startled from the healer's touch on your shoulder but stood up when you understood you were being ordered away. Ivar fought the need to watch you depart but surrendered to the urge at the last moment. You were looking back at him also, curiosity alight in your sad eyes. And there was fear also. You broke the gaze that lingered between you both, following Audhild out of the room.

"Why did you do that?" Hvitserk asked the moment they were alone. 

"I already told you," Ivar bit back, in no mood to have to explain his rationale to his slow-witted brother. "Go and fetch Ubbe. I want to hear what plan you think you have to negotiate with the Saxons."

Hvitserk took on a concerned frown. He must have known there was little hope for their plan of a sit down with the Saxons now. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as Ivar assumed.

He trudged to the door, halting once he got to the entryway to get the last word in. "I have seen these nuns do this before. You shouldn't have been so quick to release her, brother. Something must have happened to make her act on impulse like that."

Maybe something had occurred to spurn such a reaction from you, but at the moment Ivar could not see through his fury to consider such possibilities. You had tried to use death as a means to escape him after he had shared parts of himself with you. He told you of his parents, and you had spoken in kind of your own. By granting you those stories, he had allowed you to know him. It was more than he had given to another in years, and this was how he was rewarded. The Gods were not smiling down on him today.

"I'm not like you, father," He said aloud, with the hope that his words would reach Ragnar in Valhalla. "I can't befriend a Christian."

He staggered over to the abandoned washbasin. It would need emptying by another thrall now. The broken clay shard remained atop the soiled cloth, and Ivar felt it in his hand. His rage had peaked, and he squeezed the piece of clay until it drew blood from his palm. When the sting of the blade ceased, he pitched it across the room, shattering it to pieces.

The silence in the room made it impossible to ignore that he was alone once again. Ivar collapsed onto his pallet of furs, braces still intact on his legs, and the exhaustion returning along with this new hurt squeezing his chest. He was tired of being let down by others. No one ever remained at his side. 

Hvitserk was wrong. He couldn't keep you after knowing you would rather die than be his thrall. Lying on his side, Ivar could see the dark stain of your blood on his floor, and he turned away. Yes, he was better off without you tearing everything he had built apart.

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[kpoppwriter]

The Pleasures of Life | pt. 9

Genre: demon/angel au (Demon!Seungcheol x Angel!reader)

Words: 1.4k+

Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of sexual assault, manipulation, some stockholm syndrome-ish content, blood, violence, swearing/language

A/N: so I spent some time thinking about this part because I had to decide on some world-building type things (that’ll make more sense later) but lol yeah come yell at me about this part later you’ll wanna✌️ 

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | pt.6 | pt.7 | pt.8 | pt.9 | pt.10 | epilogue

You woke up in a cold sweat. You immediately sat up when your eyes opened suddenly. You were disorientated and couldn’t remember where you were. The silk sheets beneath you were soft against your skin. The room was dark. You couldn’t tell what time it was. 

“Y/N?”

In the doorway stood Seungcheol wearing some pajama pants and a t-shirt. The light from the room behind him made the edge of his silhouette glow a warm gold. The faint murmur of a tv echoed into the bedroom. The memory of you running to Seungcheol’s home came back to your mind. You were at his place.   

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine.”

You brought your knees up to your chest and rested your forehead on them. You smoothed your hair back, a long sigh escaping your lips. The bed dipped beside you, a hand coming up to gingerly rub your back. 

“I know you’re not okay,” Seungcheol whispered, “You wouldn’t have come here if you were okay.” 

“I’m scared.”

Your voice was barely audible but it was just loud enough for Seungcheol to hear. His heart hurt seeing you so afraid, so scared for your life. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. 

“I promised I would protect you and I don’t go back on my promises,” he reassured you

“But Joshua-”

“Forget about Joshua. I said I’d keep you safe and I mean it. I won’t let him harm you. I’d have to be dead for him to be able to even come close to you.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” you smiled slightly, gently hitting his chest

Your head rested against Seungcheol’s chest, his warmth comforting you. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as his arms tightened around you. You pulled back slightly so you could get a good look at his face. He always looked at you with such kindness and love. His eyes made you feel at home. His hand cupped your cheek. You smiled as you pushed your face further into his hand.

“Home,” you whispered, “I’m home.”

You weren’t sure what time it was when you woke up. You were so out of it and Seungcheol had this thing about keeping his curtains closed in the bedroom. It really played tricks on your mind. You sat up but your head was pounding, making you dizzy. You slowly stood up once the wave of nausea wore off. You could hear the low murmurs of voices through the closed bedroom door. Hesitantly, you opened the door, unsure of who would be on the other side.   

“All I’m saying is- oh! You’re up.”

You recognized the guys standing in Seungcheol’s kitchen immediately. Mingyu, Woozi, Jun, Minghao, Vernon, and Wonwoo all stared at you and you stared back with a confused expression. Yes, they were Seungcheol’s friends and it would make sense that they were there but the way they looked at you make you feel...pitied.

“I was just telling the guys about your...situation,” Seungcheol said from in the kitchen

“My situation?” 

“We want to help you, Y/N,” Minghao interjected

“Yeah! You’re one of us and we protect our own,” Mingyu stated

“You’re making it seem like I’m in a lot of danger,” you chuckled nervously 

The room was quiet a moment, all eyes shifting away from you.

“Wait, am I actually in a lot of danger?” 

All eyes shifted to Vernon. He looked over at Seungcheol, wordlessly getting approval to share the information he knew. 

“Seungkwan told me this morning that any angel that spots you is to report it to Joshua immediately.”

“So you’re telling me that if anyone sees me, Joshua will zap over and, what...take me away?” you stammered

“Hey,” Seungcheol quickly walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “You know I’m not going to let that happen. We’re coming up with a plan now to keep you safe, okay?”

You let out a long sigh before nodding. Seungcheol’s lips curved up into a small smile, his lips pecking your forehead reassuringly. 

“Now about this plan-”

“Are you sure it’s safe to trust them?” 

“Cheol, you know them. Plus Jeonghan is so against Joshua that he’d kill the others before they had a chance to report back to Joshua.” 

4 months into hiding from Joshua and you were honestly surprised that you hadn’t been caught. Yes, you and Seungcheol ended up having to move a few times but you were still safe. Still with Seungcheol, which was all that really mattered. Finally, after much convincing, you were able to invite Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Jeonghan over. Seungcheol insisted that it was a bad idea but you knew them. You knew they wouldn’t betray you like that. 

A knock rang through your home. You happily walked over to the door but before you could open it, Seungcheol checked the peep hole to make sure it was really them. After you got the okay from him, you opened the door.

“Y/N!” Seokmin exclaimed excitedly “It’s been too long!” 

“I know I know!”

You hugged the boys as they entered your home. Like usual, they were bundles of energy. They just had so much to tell you since it had been forever since they saw you last (an over-exaggeration that Soonyoung and Seokmin frequently repeated throughout the evening). Jeonghan and Seungkwan were more curious about your wellbeing and how you were holding up in hiding. 

“Has he caught up to you yet?” Jeonghan asked

“Not here but it’s only a matter of time,” you sighed, “I haven’t actually run into Joshua though. Just his minions.” 

“Be lucky you haven’t run into him,” Seungkwan warned

The rest of the night was great. You were happy to see your friends again. It made your situation feel just a little bit more normal. Eventually the boys had to leave much to your dismay. You knew they had to get back to their homes, their lives now in danger from being in contact with you. 

After cleaning up your living room and doing the dishes, with Seungcheol’s help of course, you were very tired and ready to go to bed right then. You waddled into the bedroom, flopping on the bed without even changing into pajamas. Seungcheol laughed when he walked into the bedroom after you.

“At least get those clothes off before you pass out,” he chuckled

“Too tired. Must sleep,” you yawned

Seungcheol shook his head as he pulled you up off of the bed to help you change (more like do it for you but he’d never complain about much of a baby you could be when you were tired). After getting into pajamas, you slipped under the covers and fell asleep.

~~~

A loud crash, like glass breaking, rang out throughout your home. You bolted up out of bed startled by the noise. Seungcheol wasn’t in bed with you. You figured he must’ve made the noise and got up to check on him.

“Cheol, are you-”

“Hello Y/N.”

Your words were caught in your throat as you saw the scene unfolding before you. Seungcheol was being restrained by two men with a knife held to his throat. Holding said knife was, of course, Joshua. 

“Don’t hurt him.”

Your voice was stern but clearly wavering, scared of what Joshua would do to Seungcheol. 

“I wouldn’t hurt it,” Joshua smirked, “That’s not why I’m here.”

“You’re here for me,” you interjected, “So take the knife away from his throat.”

Joshua contemplated for a moment before moving the knife from Seungcheol’s throat. Joshua clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“You tainted a perfectly good angel,” he whispered, “How dare you.”

Joshua sliced the side of Seungcheol’s face. You let out a yell as Seungcheol winced in pain. Drops of blood fell onto the floor. Your mind went blank as you watched the red liquid pool at Seungcheol’s feet. 

“Joshua please,” you sobbed, “Stop hurting him. You want me right? You can have me just...just stop hurting him.”

Joshua eyed you like you were prey, his toy to play with. He moved towards you, stopping when he was right in front of you. His fingers played with a stand of your hair. He gingerly smoothed it back into place. You swore he could hear how hard your heart was beating. It was the only thing you could hear. 

“Y/N,” Joshua whispered, “You should’ve just behaved like every other good angel.”

Joshua thrusted the knife into your abdomen full force. Your name rang in your ears, Seungcheol yelling for you when he saw the knife enter your body. You collapsed to the floor clutching at your stomach. Joshua took the blade out of you, your blood now pooling on the floor. You heard Seungcheol. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying anymore but you heard him. He was the last thing you heard as you drifted off into the darkness. 

[rosy-cheekx]

from the fluff prompts! 17: “come here, i need to hug you”

hehe this is not fluff. I wish I could say I was sorry but I'm not. (CW canon-typical body horror, Stranger content. There’s fluff at the end.)

-

Familiar Faces

Tim, Sasha, 1.5k

The woman in front of him was blonde, tall, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. She was swearing a smart blazer, had pursed lips as she clutched files to her chest. Her hands were…wrong, somehow. He couldn't pinpoint what was off but Tim couldn't stop staring at them.

“Tim, you’re not quite looking yourself.” Sasha smiled at him, sweeping her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Maybe you should take the day off.”

Tim didn’t respond, not daring to take his eyes off her.

“You—?” He tried, though his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. The words came from his lips muffled, as if something was covering them. Without thinking about it, he raised a hand to his lips. His fingertips came away slick, skin that was not his own stifling the sensation on his face. Tim’s vision tunneled, zeroing in on the face of the woman who was Sasha, wasn’t Sasha? He wasn’t sure anymore.  Looking down, Tim saw his hands were slick tendon and bone, skin peeled away in neat strips, fingernails embedded in the fat that had once been underneath.

Tim felt his stomach churn. Eyes back on the woman that couldn’t be Sasha, Sasha wouldn’t do this, he saw a grin peeling her face apart, wider than a normal smile should be. The files in her hand were a mirror and she turned it to him, raising it so his shoulders aligned with her frame in the reflection.

Tim’s vision swam as he focused on what he saw in the mirror, something in him unable to look away. He was sure he was going to be sick, but there was something in him that forced him to look, see what had been done to him. To Danny. The stitches were clumsy, close together but clearly amateur, reminding him of his brief stint into embroidery. They were uneven around his jaw; Danny’s face had always been rounder than his. Blood was smeared down his chin, but it was impossible to tell whose it had been, once upon a time, especially since there was no other skin to compare it to. Of all the things, Tim was struck by how much tanner Danny’s face was than he had remembered.

“Tim?” The woman who Was Not Sasha asked from behind the mirror, and Tim watched his lips, Danny’s lips move in his reflection, straining against some of the stitches with each word. “You look quite peaky. Maybe some time off will do you some good, get you feeling like yourself again.”

Tim balled his raw hands into fists, forcing all his energy into moving his lips, tearing the stitches apart. Slowly, gummily, he parted his lips. “Fuck. You.”

--

“Tim. Tim, wake up.”

His eyes were open now, peering up at a bleary ceiling and about a third of Sasha’s face, dark curly hair hanging over most of it. He exhaled sharply and inelegantly shuffled into a seated position, checking his hands for a moment before rubbing them over his face. They came away wet but, as Tim was sure to check, for a different reason. The pair sat in silence for a moment, neither sure how to approach the situation.

“Are…you okay?” Sasha asked eventually, hand hovering between them, like cautioning a wounded animal. “You looked like you needed help.”

Tim bit back a breath, sucking on his lower lip as he contemplated what to say next. His eyes followed her hand, and yes, they looked normal now. The dream came back to him piecemeal, the woman who called herself Sasha and his hands and the mirror, all fragmented images whirling away too fast to form a comprehensive picture. Sasha’s eyes were big and brown, studying his face like a practiced therapist. Her hands had looked wrong because they had been missing her vitiligo, the pale spot that curved around her wrist and looked just like Germany. Her hair was in unbound curls, mussed from sleep and other bedtime activities, and she was tall but curvy; round and warm. Not the thin, angular woman from the dream, mirror held in front of her with such menace.

Tim was staring. Sasha’s brow was wrinkling. She was worried. He processed these facts in slow motion like his mind was moving through molasses, tongue thick with the taste of Danny’s blood on his lips.

Danny. Tim threw a hand to his mouth, feeling the smooth seam of his lips and skin that was his, the five o’clock shadow he really should have shaved this morning tickling his fingertips. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“I…I had a bad dream.” No shit, Sherlock. He fished for words, fingertips tracing the edges of his jawline, his temple, finding no clumsy seams to be torn off.

“You weren’t you. You were blonde a-and horrible and your voice was like…sandpaper.” Tim realized his hands were shaking when he felt the cool fingers of Sasha pressing on his own gently, steadying them.

“I was…me. But my skin was missing. A-and you were teasing me about something. You showed me a mirror. And I was…” Tim chewed on his lip. Biting it had always been a nervous habit but the reminder that they were his lips was comforting enough as well.

“They had put Danny’s face on mine.” The last words were a whisper, barely able to say it out loud before he felt a shudder rip through him and felt the wind knocked out of him once more. “I-I couldn’t look away.” He pulled his hand from underneath Sasha’s to wrap around the back of his neck. “It was...” He swallowed thickly. “It was hideous.”

Sasha, saint that she was, listened dutifully as Tim haltingly put together the information from his dream, nodding in silence but eyes full of tender patience and compassion. When he was done, the silent tears halted to sniffles and deliberately careful breaths, she drew a knee to her chest and pursed her lips.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. That sounds awful.” Hand out in a quick search of approval, she gently began to rub his back, slow circles in time with her breathes. “His anniversary is coming up, isn’t it?” Her voice was almost a whisper. He nodded.

“You know I’m me. I’m Sasha James, your best friend, the one you can count on to get you out of a scrape. I like Thai food and purple and sweets and you think I have a spot in the shape of Thailand on my back, which is why you think I like it so much.” She paused for a moment, eyeing him. “Helping or hurting?”

Tim nodded, barely eking out a whisper of ‘helping,’ and she continued. “Your name is Timothy Stoker. You work seven and a half feet away from me, but somehow you always find an excuse to scooch your chair closer. You like to be touched constantly except when you’re angry. You drink iced coffee year-round and think heist movies are the superior film.” She wrinkled her nose good-naturedly. “You like to be kissed in the spot between your eyebrows. I like to pretend your snoring bothers me. You like when I bring you a snack from the café because you like being remembered. I like to braid your hair when it gets shaggy. You’re allergic to peanuts. I’m allergic to red food dye.”

Her hand had slowed as she had rattled off facts about them both, a heavy warm weight resting behind his lungs. He focused on her words and breathing into her hand, letting the smoothness of her voice wash over his anxieties; the disturbing imagery not gone but filed away in a smaller, more manageable package.

“I think…I think we know each other too well,” he mumbled, managing a small smile.

“You take that back,” Sasha grinned, pressing a kiss to his temple. “No such thing. Now, what do you need from me? Tea? A distraction?”

“Come here,” Tim asked softly, eyes meeting hers. “I need to hug you.” I need to remember what’s real and solid; I need to feel you in my arms and know the you I saw back there was an imagination, a figment, a neuron gone fritzy. I need to know that they didn’t take you like they did him.

He didn’t say of that, but Sasha seemed to get the message. She pulled him gently into her, burying her face into his neck. Tim inhaled the scent of her shampoo, a soft pine scent mixed with lavender, and that was Sasha. He knew her from that smell. They balanced precariously between the pillows and their seated arrangement for who-knows-how-long, just taking in the silence and touch of someone else, grounding Tim to reality in waves until he felt firmly centered once more.

Sasha fell back to sleep eventually, still tangled in each other but more comfortable now. Instead of sleep, Tim studied Sasha’s face in the slow-rising daylight, the splashes of pink against her dark skin, the mole under her ear, the way her hair curled back on itself when it got long in a confusing pattern, the way her jaw rounded against her throat. This was his Sasha. He was sure of it. He would never forget her face again.

[revengeisourlullaby]

Hi I just read “everything happens for a reason” (loved it btw) I was wondering if you could make a sequel to it? Y/N is still try to get over her break up with Thor and Loki reassures her that she is more than enough for him. It would be more vanilla though. (Sorry that this is so long🥺)

it’s not long at all, don’t worry! i was actually contemplating about making a sequel to it. so i already have smth in the works! i’ll have it done probably by the end of the week :))

edit: I’m so sorry for this being so late!! I know I said a week and then my life went up in chaos. Forgive me for my untimely posting. Regardless, here is the sequel to the Loki fic, Everything Happens For a Reason. Hope you enjoy! 

Warnings: None. Just fluffy Loki

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2.3K

You awoke to the pitter-patter of the New York rain falling against the window yet again. You thought the worst of it happened yesterday while you were running away from your problems. Speaking of problems, the last thing you wanted was to go back home. Even though it wouldn’t be until later this evening, you felt that your apartment was forever tainted with the betrayal you witnessed. Going back in there would be like playing a broken record. Forever stuck in the limbo of what was.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you rolled over to feel for Loki, but instead, you were met with room temperature sheets, another body vacant from the bed. Your stomach sank. Had Loki lied? It wouldn’t be beside him but with you, he was so transparent. It felt like cigarettes were being put out all over your skin, your nerves were fired up in all the wrong ways. You sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets up to your chest along with your knees. You felt your body become lethargic.

Am I worth anything to anybody? Am I really that disposable?

Hot, stinging tears began to fall from your eyes. Self-doubt and deprecating thoughts filling your brain. Perpetual questions of wondering your worth not only in romantic fashion but just in life came to be the spearhead of your worries. Everything felt intrusive and counterfeit. Maybe he saw you as easy and knew you would give up easily to him in your state of vulnerability. You just wanted somebody to be appreciative of you.

Maybe he and his brother weren’t cut from that different of a cloth. Sliding out of the bed you went to put on your clothes from the night before in hopes of getting out of the hotel without too much trouble. But when you bent over to pick your jeans up from the floor they were damp and cold and it made you feel even worse. Your hoodie was in a similar condition and to top it off, you couldn’t find your underwear to save your life. You groaned out loud and felt trapped in this opulent room and everywhere you looked was a painful reminder of everything bitter and vile.

You climbed back in bed and decided to just wait for your clothes to finish drying up. Unsure of when that would be because the rain outside was creating a thin layer of humidity in the room. Sighing you curled into the fetal position and held onto an extra pillow hoping that it would provide you with some semblance of comfort. Your tears started up again and there was a pain beginning to build in your stomach. You wanted to scream. You wanted to release yourself of all the negative energy that was boiling within you. Clutching the extra pillow to your face you let out a wail that you had been holding in for far too long. All the pent-up energy from yesterday of trying to hold your own against the perfidy Thor presented you with and now you were struggling with the concept of Loki using you and your vulnerability for a cheap fuck. You were curled up in a hotel room, naked and crying about everything. You felt pathetic. You just wanted to sleep forever. 

With the last sniffle leaving your body you took a deep breath and shuddered into your body. Your breathing labored and shallow, you tried to calm yourself down in hopes of falling back asleep. But those hopes were dilapidated when you heard the hotel room door click open. You thought about faking sleep but the idea of faking anything took up too much space to even think about carrying out. So you opted to just lie still and wait for anything to be said to you. Maybe it was just one of the housekeeping people and they would leave upon seeing someone still in the room.

“Y/N, you up yet?”

Housekeeping would’ve been too easy wouldn’t it?

Sighing you meekly responded to Loki, tears and sorrow welling up in your eyes and throat once more.

“Yeah, been up for a little while.”

He caught on to it immediately. Your position in the bed, the lack of tone in your voice. He knew he should’ve waited but he thought a surprise of something would lift your spirits even more. Time was simply not on his side and you arose long before he anticipated. Making his best judgment at the situation he was debating which road of sentiment he should walk down. He didn’t want to make things worse for you.

Loki set down a bag, the crinkling catching your attention and you looked over your shoulder to see where he was. 

He went to get food? He hadn’t skipped at all?

“Surprise.”

Instantly you were filled with regret, upset with yourself for jumping to conclusions about the situation at hand. You couldn’t help it though, your ability to have trust within someone else was smeared, and regardless of Loki’s reassuring words the night prior, the pain had yet to subside. Upon seeing your face, Loki saw the residual puffiness in your face and how the tip of your nose was heated and slightly swollen from your crying before he walked in. 

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

Was all you could muster, wordwise. You sat yourself up in the bed and wiped the residue of tears from your face trying to make yourself appear as normal as possible. Wrapping the sheet tightly around you, you finally faced him. Loki stepping lightly to the edge of the bed. 

“Did you think I left...for good?”

You rolled your heads towards him, cynicism clear on your face. A bit of sarcasm was thrown into the mix but it was all a guise to somewhat shield him from the pain and embarrassment you were feeling. Looking at the wall in front of you, a dry response left your lips.

“Yes. What else was I supposed to think? My mind was running through all the possible reasons as to why you left. And the one that kept nagging was the idea that my vulnerability yesterday was used to an advantage other than my own.”

Sadness no longer colored your emotions but rather numbness. You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted to trust Loki and you believed that you could but time was definitely needed. With another sigh, you continued.

“And then you walk in here with bags of stuff and I look like a fool for being so dramatic in nature.”

“Well that’s nothing new for us now is it?”

Loki’s quip back at you had your eyes narrowing into thin slits but again was quickly washed away because something about him made the circumstances seem not so perilous. You bowed your head, feeling that you had said enough. In place, Loki’s voice filled the silence.

“My intention was for you to still be asleep by the time I returned. You seemed so peaceful. The last thing I wanted was to wake you from that state of rest. I figured I’d be back in time to properly surprise you with some gifts.”

You smiled a bit, feeling the angst start to fade away, but quickly to feel it fade into guilt. But you weren’t allowed to stew in it for too long, for Loki standing up from the bed caught your attention distracting you from your thoughts.

“Before it gets cold, I got us some breakfast. And..”

His sentence trailing off into a strain as he bent over to the side of the desk in the front of a room to pull out yet another bag.

“I picked you up some clothes to wear for today. Figured wearing the ones from this past evening was morally and aesthetically dull and trudging back to your apartment would be in poor judgment. It’s not much but enough for the day and for our date this evening.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline completely forgetting about what you agreed to with Loki during your session of pillow talk while you were drifting in and out of sleep. 

He really meant that? Wow, okay.”

“Oh come now, you hadn’t forgotten already had you?”

Loki was mocking you now. Fully aware that by your initial reaction you had forgotten. 

“Look, in my defense, I was drifting off to sleep.”

“Mhmm, sure Y/N.”

Setting the bag in between the two of you on the bed, Loki looked at you, eyes urging you to dig in the bag.

“You happen to have another shirt I can throw on before I start eating? My hoodie is still damp and-”

Loki reached into the bag full of clothes and pulled out an oversized graphic tee cutting your sentence off and holding it out in front of your face.

“Thank you.”

You were genuinely surprised and grateful. It was such a simple act but the fact that Loki went out of his way to get you clothes and food following a night of such intensity made you feel warm and finally appreciated. Something you hadn’t felt with previous relationships, especially with your last. Taking the shirt from him, you looked for the tag and pulled it out with your teeth.

“Animal.”

Loki side-eyed you, his comment made obviously in somewhat of jest. You chuckled and wormed your way into the shirt. Once pulling it over your head you finally dug into the paper bag that was still surprisingly warm despite the time that had gone by. The smell of a breakfast sandwich filling your nose and your stomach growled in response, eager to be fed. Loki made a sarcastic remark but you couldn’t be bothered with responding the second you placed the sandwich to your lips. 

The satisfaction of the food also gnawing away the ritual morning agitation you were always burdened with. Nothing but soft smacks and soft moans of enjoying your food filled the space. A sign that obviously, the food was worthwhile. Loki had looked at you eyebrow raised and chuckled to himself watching you be completely lost in the sandwich.

“If I would’ve known you’d be tearing the sandwich up like that I would’ve purchased three.”

Your eyes rolled and simultaneously you were thinking about how he got all this stuff in the first place. Mouth still full with food, your speech a little muffled.

“Speaking of purchase, how’d you buy all this anyway.”

“Mischief always finds its way, darling.”

“I think the word is pronounced thievery, Loki.”

“Same difference.”

It’s almost as if all the trauma that you suffered through yesterday had never happened. Being with Loki and the playful banter that was his character made everything feel at ease. You felt happy, actually and most importantly you didn’t feel guilty for it. Was the timing a little brisk? Perhaps, but in the end, what really mattered was your happiness and right now it felt that you had found it. 

Finishing up with your sandwich you balled up the wrapping and threw it back into the bag. Standing up from the bed you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Turning on the light you saw a plethora of toiletry products that you hadn’t brought. A toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash, lotion, a few makeup products that you knew were picked up in pure confusion, and some leave in for your hair. Your eyes widened and you let out a belly laugh.

“Jesus Loki, did you raid the fuckin Walgreens on the corner.”

“Hey if you don’t want it, with the flick of my wrist it will vanish. Choose your next words wisely.”

You knew he was playing and you decided one last epigram would satisfy your bratty nature. Peeking your head out from the bathroom, you bowed in a dramatic courtesy.

“Thank you my king for so valiantly stealing all the toiletries from our nearest corner store. My gratitude is eternal. Like that?”

“You’re impossible.”

Walking back to Loki, you stood between his legs and raked your fingers through his slicked-back hair. A softness took over your features, appearing small and doe-like to Loki as he looked up at you.

“Thank you, Loki, really. I know we bust each other’s balls but I really appreciate you. I can already foresee how tightly I’m going to be wrapped around your finger. You already have me falling for you at a speed that is impractical to calculate.”

“My Y/N.”

Hearing the adoration layered in his tone made your heart warm and the possession of your name falling from his mouth made your body shiver. Realizing how quickly you could get used to this.

“Now you’ll finally see what it’s like to be on the receiving end. Ever since we stumbled upon each other I was enamored with you. I couldn’t bear to see you with another and that another being none other than my brother was like a fiery blade that I had no power of removing. When I fell for you I knew I was irrevocably destined to be yours. Regardless of the circumstance. And now, if you are willing to take my hand in this journey I would like to make you mine.”

You pressed your lips together in a firm smile before showing your teeth, feeling overwhelmed with reverence for the man in front of you.

“I’d be more than happy to accompany you. Even more so for this evening.”

Loki lightly smiled and then leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. The air light and emanating the tender yet sardonic romance that was beginning to brew between your long-lost lover.

[commanderserwin]

magic pill!

↦ pairing(s): eren yaeger x reader

↦ word count: 2k

↦ anon request: 

Summary for skittish Eren and Reader: Hange’s experiments went wrong on Eren after he took the pills given to him which caused him to turn 15cm tall, but retained his human form and ends up completely nude as a predicament. Next Eren felt nervous and scared with his current form and frantically tried to ask Hange, Mikasa, Armin, and Reader on when he’s going to change back, but no luck. Later at night Reader stayed with Eren to comfort him until the next morning where he turned back to normal.

↦ author’s note(s): is this skittish enough for you?? teehee here we go!! had so much fun with this! although i don’t know if you wanted literally 15 centimeter eren or 15 meter eren, assuming that the cm is just a typo? but i went ahead chose for myself, and voila! here you have a 15 meter tall eren! thanks for the request, i hope you like it!

magic pill - two

╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍

"Hange... how," Eren nervously asked, looking at the pill and at Hange holding it with a wide smile, "How sure are you that it's going to work?"

"Well," Hange chirped, holding the pill between her fingers, "That's what we don't know since we are experimenting. And you are our test subject." 

Eren looked around, his anxious eyes setting on Mikasa, Armin, Hange, and yours as he looked back again at the pill. He has mused at how much he is nervous of the experiments but anything to help the cause of humanity. He still have no idea what this pill was supposed to be for, but he heard the words between the lines of 'titan,' 'big,' 'small,' and 'unsure,' that he really is unsure of what's supposed to happen. 

Mikasa and Armin looked at Eren anxiously as well, setting a tense silence between you all. Mikasa looked nervous, as she fiddled with her scarf while Armin is almost close to puking, thinking of what the pill is. Hange looked fairly proud of her work, as she should as most of her experiments have greatly added to the titan and human histories. You... well, you were also nervous and proud since you were here to witness the use of the pill, so you gave soft pats on Eren's shoulder. 

"Hange worked hard on it," you boasted, looking at the section commander who is smiling in thanks for your comment, "I'm sure it's safe. Right, Section Commander?"

"Of course," Hange squealed, adjusting her glasses. She handed Eren the pill and he took it with trembling fingers as he twirled it around his hand. "Go on, we'll be here." 

Eren looked around once more as he walked a couple of steps away from all of you. He looked at the menacing pill, and swallowed it. You nodded and smiled softly, clutching your clipboard and pen for any drastic changes to him, as Hange assigned you to take notes. Hange pushed you all back, backing up with her arms at a safe length, and called on to Moblit to 'Hurry up, Moblit! Come here quick!' with Moblit's faded voice replying, 'No, wait!'

"What?!" Eren yelled, holding on to his throat, he looked nervously at Hange, "Did I take the correct pill?"

Moblit finally entered, panting and bent over as he handed Hange a similar pill. "This... take this, not that." 

Hange shrieked, and pinched Moblit on the arm, "What do you mean not that? Eren's already swallowed i!"

You smiled apologetically, and slowly looked up at Eren. He's... turning into a gigantic, Eren. Still human, very much so as he shouted loudly, covering his privates as his clothes broke from the seams. All of you looked up, silent, and in shock. There he was. Eren. Huge. Nude. Going crazy out of his damn mind. 

"Oh,oh," Hange repeated, nervously chuckling as Moblit sighed deeply, and they both said it, "Shit."

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

They all left the both of you and Eren alone. Running back to the laboratory for help of others and science. You scribbled notes on your clipboard, uneasily, being left alone with huge Eren, and he's stark naked. 

You sighed embarrassingly, looking up quick with a blush on your cheeks to examine Eren for not too long for him to be uneasy as well. Eren chuckled nervously, and cleared his throat in attempt to converse. "How long until you finish, uhm, writing?" 

"In a minute," you answered nonchalantly as you scribbled, but the truth is you are shaking in embarrassment, tips of your ears red.

"Like you haven't seen me naked." 

"Oh?!" 

"No!" Eren hurriedly sputtered, holding out one arm as he clucthed his privates, "No! What I mean, is you know, my titan form is naked, so it's not like you haven't seen-"

You were properly blushing. Full-on. You fiddled with your pen and clipboard, trying to keep your eyes on your hands.

"-me naked? Right? Oh! Oh!" 

Eren chuckled, "I shouldn't really wave my hand around."

"Yeah," you agreed, chuckling as well, looking up for a second and back down again. 

"You think," he began, his voice shy, "Do you think you could turn around for me so that I could sit down without..."

"Of course!" You blurted, turning around quickly, and covering your eyes with the clipboard. "Just tell me if you're okay. Or if I should just face away, because, you know." 

"Can you move a few steps to the left?" 

"Sure." 

"More?" 

"Okay." 

"Just a little bit?" 

"Oh, yeah!" 

"Okay, that's fine," Eren sheepishly said. 

You felt the ground shake underneath your feet as Eren moved around, sitting down on the ground, his knee right at your face. Even when, he's sitting down, you still looked so small. He lifted his index finger, comparing the size of his finger and you behind your back. He smiled, joking with himself, "My index finger is still bigger than you."

He doesn't know why he said that when you stayed quiet. He wants to beat himself up for it. He rubbed his hands over his face, contemplating still. He cleared his throat, placing his hands on his private. "You can turn around now."

You did slowly, chuckling seeing how closer and yet so far away he still is. You stood infront his big toe, comparing the size of his toe to your clipboard. "Your toe is still bigger than my clipboard."

Both of you laughed, thankful that each of you are trying to make things a little bearable. He's grateful you joined him at his silly joke, and laughed even harder, sure that everybody from within the raidus could hear it, "Let me take a note of that, then." 

Eren nodded, chuckling as he watched you playfully do so. The sun was already starting to set, watching the orange skies grace the horizon. "When do you think they'll be back?"

"Soon, I hope," you yawned, taking off of your jacket in the summer heat, waiting when they'll be back. "How's the weather up there?" 

He laughed, yawning as well. It was pretty stressful day. Eren thought it was just going to be an another easy experiment day, the usual with his Section Commander, experimenting with his titan form and writing notes. But he didn't imagine in a thousand years that this is what will hapepen. He could still feel the horror of feeling his clothes shrink and break, and his limbs elongate as he felt himself grow taller, and taller, and taller, until he's at the level of the trees. He watched you scribble rapidly on your clipboard, while the rest shouted and repeated asked Hange what happened, as she also didn't know. 

Eren watched you yawn again, and you looked up at him hesistantly, avoiding looking at his crotch, "Do you want me to go and find them?"

"No!" He said, shaking his head, eyes wide. He's actually scared of this whole situation, and he didn't want to be all alone. "No, actually, can you stay with me? Until this is over?" 

You looked up, nodding, walking towards his lower leg to pat him gently. "I'll stay with you, don't worry." 

He smiled, thankful. "The night's settling in," he commented, tilting his head towards the low sunset, "Do you want to sleep in first? I'll keep watch." 

"That'd be nice," you nodded, putting away your clipboard and pen next to your jacket. "Although, you can sleep in too? We're fine right here so no need to keep watch. But if you... prefer?" 

"It's okay," he replied. You turned around quickly, stepping away again and feeling the ground quake under his large body. 

Eren manuevered around, hiding his junk while he tried to find a pefect way to lay down. He laid down on his side, his knees to his chest, trying to hide his privates, and his arm was sprawled on the ground , while his other arm was tucked beneath his cheek for added comfort. He watched you turn around a few seconds later to face him, and he watched with his large green eyes as how you gingerly lay down beside him. 

You picked a perfect spot, laying down below his sprawled arm and beside his neck. You looked up quickly, tucking your hair behind your ear, surprised that Eren was also looking at you. "Good night, I guess?" 

He needed, mouthing a little 'Good night,' watching you look away, and folding your knees upward, while you kept your hands under your cheek. He closed his eyes as he saw you settle in, trying to fade away the sounds of the ground, but everything was too loud, probably from his bigger ears as well. He opened his eyes slightly, keeping focused on the tree ahead, waiting for the others to come. He peaked down at you, smiling gently when he saw you scratch your legs, face, and swat awat your hair to keep it out of your face. It continued in intervals, and he chuckled soflty not to scare you. 

"Can't sleep?" 

You turned around, laying on your back with your hands clasped behind your head. "I could feel you inhale and exhale through your nose," you mused, scrunching up your nose as you smiled, "It feels like I'm somewhere in the air with all the wind." 

Eren laughed, his chest shaking as he laid down on his side, still looking at you. He blew softly, laughing again when he saw your hair just swoop past your face. He chuckled even deeper when you looked up, with an incredulous look on your face. 

"I might just get myself blown if you do that again," you joked, fixing your hair, as you looked up at the stars. You listened to his chest rumble in steady beats, feeling the flow of it as it lull you into a sleep you tried to fight. You feel your eyes closing, and you sighed deeply to mask the yawn that was supposed to be. 

"Just go to sleep," he whispered against your whole body, making you stare at his green eyes. 

You yawned loudly, covering your mouth. You nodded, turning again, but facing him. You looked at his bare neck, as you curled up again, slowly listening to his steady breaths, as it lulled you once more, your body welcoming the rest. 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

In the morning, you woke up to someone breathing heavily down your cheek. You whipped your head in question, surprised that Eren has turned into his normal self, but still naked. His naked body covered yours, creating a shadow over you. You moved quietly, careful not to touch his arm above your head, as you stretched to get your jacket from behind it. Eren stirred in his sleep slightly, his face twitching, and once he steadied, you reached out and covered his privates with your jacket. You also grabbed your clipboard and scribbled quickly to not awaken him. 

Eren stirred again, and this time he yawned loudly, scratching his cheek as he surveyed his surroundings. He saw you scribbling and you looked up sheepishly, quickly fixing your hair and clothes. "Good morning." 

"Good morning," he repeated, adjusting the jacket covering him, blush appearing on his cheeks, "Reporting again?"

"Yes," you gently said, as you finished up. He watched you finish your work, and you yawned again. You looked over at the horizon, the sun rising. 

"Glad to see I'm back now," he sighed, relief flooding his face. He turned to you as you sat on your knees, "I'm sorry for all the naked-."

"No!" You blushed, waving your hands, "It's okay." 

Eren perked up, blushing as well, wanting to comment some more but then he heard and saw the hurried bodies of people running towards the both of you. He propped himself up on his elbows, his back on the grass, as he tilted his head to get a better view. You inclined your head over, watching the people gather quickly. Both of you watched them ran, screaming 'We've got it! Don't you worry!'

Both of you laughed, waiting for them to come closer to just see Eren back to normal. 

[sulkybbarnes]

“They laugh until laughing makes them kiss. They kiss until kissing makes them laugh.” — Sarah Ruhl (The Clean House)

Eddie was sat on the floor when Buck walked in, his back resting against the couch and legs stretched in front of him. A worrying look in his eyes. Buck had knocked first, more to announce his arrival than anything else, then waltzed into the Diaz household as if he lived there. Buck reasoned that he was there often enough the place felt like his own. First he deposited the dinner he picked up on his way on the kitchen table, then walked into the living room in search of Eddie. He did not expect to find him sat on the floor with a pained expression on his face.

“Hey,” Buck started jokingly upon seeing Eddie “You know that’s not how you’re meant to use couches right?” 

But then Eddie had looked up at him, troubled expression clearing into something only less pained, and any dredge of humor drained out of Buck’s voice. Eddie didn’t look injured or panicked, so Buck eliminated the possibility of any immediate danger. Eddie wouldn’t be sat with his back to a couch, staring into space, if something was wrong with him or Chris. In fact, Buck knew that Chris was currently sleeping peacefully in his bedroom, because Chris had called him before going to bed and made Buck promise that he’ll stop by earlier tomorrow.

“Real funny, Buck.” Eddie said with an eye roll, making no attempt at moving. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Thought you’d be a bit later.” 

Buck examined the space -the little table pushed to the side to make space in front of the couch, the cushion by Eddie’s side- and decided to tread carefully.

“You alright?” Buck asked as he moved closer, opting to do the logical thing and take his place on the floor to Eddie’s left, back against the couch, shoulder almost brushing Eddie’s. “What’s going on, Eddie?”

“Just making some life altering decisions.” Eddie shrugged. The movement causing his shoulder to momentarily press against Buck’s. Upon closer inspection, the look on his face was more resigned than anything. A little tired.

“Oh. Nothing big then.” Buck smiled, and it had the intended effect of making Eddie look at him and smile back, if only for a few moments before Eddie turned to stare back ahead. “Wanna share with the class?”

Eddie hummed his assent. And then, “It’s why I asked you to come over.”

“Thought you just wanted my pleasant company,” Buck joked, trying not to let worry bleed into his voice. This whole thing was starting to feel really serious all of a sudden. 

“That too,” Eddie smiled again, and this time the expression he gave Buck made something clench in his chest. “I want to talk to you. It’s nothing bad, don’t look worried.” He said, catching Buck’s clouding expression. “Let’s have dinner first.” 

Eddie hauled himself up without waiting for Buck’s response. Offering his hand to Buck to help him off the floor. 

“I’ll get us plates and beer,” Eddie offered, hand still loosely clasped with Buck’s. “You choose something to watch?”

Buck nodded silently, his expression puzzled. Part of him hated that Eddie was drawing this -whatever this was- out, while the other part felt the need to hold onto their comforting routine for a little longer. He could sense something big threatening to crash over them. 

Eddie nodded back and released Buck to head to the kitchen. Buck stood staring after him dumbfounded. His hand tingled where Eddie held it a moment ago.

-----

Dinner was a quiet and unusually tense affair. 

They both made attempts at normal conversation throughout the meal, talking about Chris’s day at school, their shift the night before, Maddie and Chim’s list of baby names, but Buck could see that Eddie was on edge although he hid it well, and that put Buck on edge too. His mind spiraled with worst case scenarios on why Eddie wanted to talk to him. Maybe he needed help with something simple, but because he’s Eddie, he was overthinking it. Which would be the easiest thing to deal with. Buck would help Eddie without a second thought. But Eddie knew that, and so that scenario didn’t explain the look on his face when Buck first walked in. 

Or maybe, Buck’s treacherous brain provided, he started fighting again. Maybe he had decided to take Chris and move back to Texas. Maybe he figured out that Buck is in love with him and wanted to tell him thanks, but no thanks. and gently ask Buck to give him some space. That last possibility hurt almost as much as the idea of Eddie and Chris moving away. Buck let his fork clatter down to his plate.

“Okay, I really can’t take this much longer, Eddie,” Buck said, voice trembling only a little. “We’re done with dinner. What’s going on?”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, expression contemplative, before he put his fork down too and sighed. He gave Buck a look that could only be described as soft, something warm and liquid in his eyes, but still so worried and sad. So unlike Eddie.

“Come on, we’ll talk over washing the dishes. I need something to do with my hands if we’re doing this now. Grab the beers, Buck.” That last command was given as Eddie gathered the plates and walked to the kitchen sink. 

Buck almost groaned with frustration -it was a close thing- but bit it down and followed Eddie. 

Buck offered his help with the dishes but Eddie declined, on account of there being a total of two dishes to wash, so Buck stood with his back to the kitchen counter with a beer clutched in his hand and eyes boring into the side of Eddie’s face, willing him to just start talking. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about where I’m at right now personally. Where I’ve been. What I want in life?” Eddie glanced sideways at Buck, no doubt noticing his confused expression. Buck still had no idea where this was going. “The whole thing with Anna put a lot of things into perspective.”

Ah, Anna. Chris’s gorgeous English teacher, who Eddie dated for two long excruciating months before they broke it off. Two months of Buck having to grit his teeth through it, fake smiles, and pretend not to be hurt when Eddie chose date night with Anna over going out with the team or over having a drink with Buck. They didn’t get serious enough for Eddie to even “introduce” her to Chris, but she had made Eddie smile at his texts and ask Buck what to wear to a date, and that had been more than enough to break Buck’s heart.

“I thought it was what I wanted, you know?” Eddie continued, unaware of Buck’s spiraling thoughts. “And in a way, it really was for a little while. She is an amazing woman, and she was kind and beautiful but. It didn’t feel right, Buck. Not in the way that I was expecting it to.” Eddie’s smile was self-deprecating, even with half of his face hidden away from Buck’s view as he finished drying the last of the cutlery. “I had to think a lot on why that was. Why I couldn’t let her into my life the way she wanted me to. Why it sometimes felt off. It was good with her, but it never felt enough.”

Eddie paused, reaching for a towel to dry off his hands. Eyes resolutely fixed on what he was doing.

Buck put his beer down and brought both arms up to cross over his chest. There was something burning low in his stomach. Anxiety or anticipation or a mixture of both. A twisted sense of hope poking at his stubborn heart. 

When Eddie looked at him, Buck nodded in encouragement for him to go on. 

“Did you figure out why?”

Eddie smiled at him, the same look on his face from earlier. Warm. Contemplative. Soft.

“Yes, I did.” Eddie sighed, now turning to mirror Buck’s position, so that they stood side to side, shoulders nearly brushing. “I figured out that I had already let someone else into mine and my son’s life. Into my heart. And that there wasn’t space for anyone else in there.”

And God. God! If this meant what Buck thought it meant.. He wasn’t above crying with relief.

“And who’s that, Eddie?” Buck asked, the crack in his voice more pronounced now. He thought that the entire world could probably hear his thundering heartbeat at that moment.

“You’re not dense, Buck,” Eddie sighed, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. He still looked worried but he also looked lighter. 

“I want to hear it.” Buck insisted. He couldn’t take any chances, not with this.

Eddie looked at him with determination in his eyes. His voice was still gentle when he spoke.

“I have feelings for you, Buck.” Eddie started carefully, then shook his head with a small laugh. “Strong feelings.” Eddie announced in a steady voice, and now he was fully looking at Buck, watching his reaction.

Buck felt dizzy with emotion. And Buck, with all of his loud personality and inability to stay still usually, was currently at a loss for words.  He couldn’t think. Could do nothing but blink rapidly at Eddie, feeling the telltale start of a smile slowly pulling at his lips.

“I’m not telling you this because I expect something in return, Buck,” Eddie went on, “I know that you’re my best friend, and I know you love Chris more than anything. So I know that this won’t make you turn away from us,” and here Eddie’s voice betrayed that he wasn’t as confident about this part as he would like Buck to believe. “But I needed you to hear it. You are my best friend, and for the past four months, the only person I’ve wanted to talk to about all of this was you.” Eddie let out a long breath, his hand rubbing at his eyes as if he was all of a sudden very tired. “So. You can take your time thinking about it. Take your space too. And whatever you decide, Buck, I will follow your lead.”

“There’s nothing to decide,” Buck finally found his voice, and it came out tinged with a smile. He turned so that he was facing Eddie, and nudged at his shoulder until Eddie turned to face him. “I made my decision a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to get here, Eddie.”

Buck’s palm found its way to the side of Eddie’s jaw, cradling Eddie’s face as if it were something precious. His other hand came up to rest upon Eddie’s shoulder, his finger trailing from there to the side of Eddie’s neck. The moment felt so fragile around them. The entire world holding its breath while they stared at each other.

“Buck?” Eddie said in a measured voice. Hope was creeping into his warm brown eyes, and he was starting to smile too in something akin to disbelief. Buck knew his expression must have looked the same.

“You’re not dense, Eddie,” Buck grinned, repeating Eddie’s phrase from before, and relishing the exasperated smile it got him. And that smile was what finally snapped Buck into action. It was so achingly familiar, so beautiful and tender and fond, that Buck found himself surging forward without a second thought. His lips finally brushing against Eddie’s. His breath hitching when Eddie brought his hands to Buck’s waist and pushed them closer together, all the while kissing Buck back senseless. 

They kissed for long moments, unaware of anything else around them. Their breaths mingling whenever one stopped to breath and the other peppered kisses along lips and cheeks and jawline.

“Buck,” Eddie breathed out, and Buck thought he could die happy just hearing Eddie say his name like that for the rest of his life. “Are you sure about this?”

Buck has never been more sure about anything in his life, but he knew that Eddie needed the reassurance. Needed to hear it too, because he -just like Buck himself- had known too much loss and pain to take anything for granted.

“I want this. I want to be with you. To be your best friend and your boyfriend, if that’s what you want too” Buck said, eyes boring into Eddie’s and then fluttering shut as Eddie’s thumb brushed gently against the side of his face. “You and Chris mean the world to me, Eddie. You must know that. I’m all in.”

Buck loved them both so much, his heart ached with it, and he knew that that love was written all over his face for Eddie to see. 

“I want that too, Buck.” Eddie rested his forehead against Buck’s temple and laughed with what sounded like pure relief, and Buck found himself laughing along with him. The kisses they traded sloppy and more teeth than lips with how hard they were both smiling. 

“I want you, and I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” Buck murmured, once they had laughed until they started kissing again.

“Everything, Buck,” Eddie answered against Buck’s lips, smiling into the kiss. “I want to give you everything.”

Note: This is my first ever fic in this fandom, and my first fic in general in a very very long time so please be gentle! Comments, reblogs, and tags are so appreciated <3

Read on Ao3

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

This Night

Summary: After the Winchesters rescue her from the clutches of some no name demon, she has trouble facing the dark alone. Dean decides to try and help her take her mind off the memories that haunt her dreams. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5.7K+

Warnings: Language, descriptions of torture, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, post traumatic stress, angst all around

Square Filled: Road Trip

Author’s Note: Written for @spngenrebingo . This fic was inspired by Luke Bryan’s “I Don’t Want This Night To End”, it doesn’t have exactly the same feeling but it gave me the idea so...I love comforting Dean with all my soul. Also, not sorry about the another plus size reader but I can never find any when I look so this is my furthered contribution to the collection of them. xo Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The tip of the angel blade poked between the buttons of her blouse and with a small flick of the demon’s wrist, it popped the seam holding them in place. Her blouse fell open further revealing her chest to the demon.

“You know, I never quite understood why the Winchester ever kept you around.” He seethed, running the blade over the swell of her left breast and breaking the skin. Warm blood trickled down her abdomen. At this point, her body had become almost numb to the pain he was inflicting on her. This had nothing on the punches to her jaw or the kicks to her ribs. Each breath she took felt like someone was shoving a hot poker in her chest. It didn’t even compare to the other cuts that littered her body between her fingers, on her neck, face and body. The one across her stomach would still trickle blood if she moved too quickly.

“You’re not a good hunter. And they certainly don’t keep you around to look at.” He gestured non committedly at her plump figure that hung from the shackles raising her arms above her head. The chains were holding up most of her weight, only her toes had contact with the ground. 

“Fuck you.” She spit down at his feet, the blood mixed with her saliva splashing against the dirty concrete. Her words were weaker than she was hoping, her body too far into survival mode to care about talking. 

“Oh, hit a nerve there on that one didn’t I, princess? So who is it? Which one are you holding a torch for?” The demon stepped up close to her, their chest nearly touching as he searched her face. The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to read her expression. “Maybe it’s Sammy boy and those freakishly long legs?” He paused to gauge her reaction before continuing. “Or maybe it’s the brooding and pensive martyr, Dean-o?” 

She couldn’t help the way her eye averted from the demon, giving her away completely. “Ah, it is Dean. Should’ve guessed it sooner I suppose. Girls like you always want what they can never have.” She cried out when he gripped a chunk of her hair and forced her head back to open up her neck to him. He sniffed against her sweat and blood soaked skin before nuzzling his nose against her pulse. A grimace crossed her face as a chill ran up her spine. 

“You’ve seen the sluts that Dean takes home from the bars and fucks in seedy motel after seedy motel. How could you ever think he would even look twice at you?” The demon’s voice was barely above a whisper as he poked the tip of the angel blade into the hollow of her cheek. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes to prepare herself.

“So why waste your time protecting those idiots. Tell me where they are and what they are up to and I’ll let you waltz right out that door.” It was a tempting offer, but she doubted that the demon would hold up his end of the bargain. No, she would die protecting the Winchesters. After all, it was like he had said, she had nothing else to offer them except to maybe give them a little more time to finish the trials. That would be her gift to the men that she called family. The two idiots that she loved. 

“Yeah right, I do that and you kill me anyway. I’ll bid the Winchesters some time so your ass rots in Hell forever.” It took everything in her to muster up the false bravado now on display for this no name demon. 

“Have it your way.” He growled before swiping the blade across her cheekbone. The sound of her shrieks reverberated off the solid walls. 

 Y/n sat up straight in her bed, her chest heaving with every breath and her sweat soaked pajamas clinging to her clammy skin. It took her a second to take in her surroundings and determine she was still in her bedroom of the bunker and not back in the hands of that demon. She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths to calm her racing heart. 

Why she thought tonight would be any different from the rest, she wasn’t exactly sure. The same nightmare had plagued her every night since she had been saved by the Winchesters, and every night she woke up in a cold sweat. This time she could only hope that her body was exhausted enough that she wouldn’t dream at all. She had been wrong. 

Climbing out of her bed, she stripped herself of her soaked pajamas and grabbed her robe and a change of clothes. The bunker was quiet as she made her way to the showers. Sam and Dean had gone to bed before she had and even though she didn’t check her phone, she was sure that it was still the middle of the night. 

She started one of the showers, turning the water as hot as she could stand it and stepped under the spray. The steam in the air and the heat of the water against her skin helped to relax her tense muscles. She took her time in washing away the sweat from her skin but didn’t bother with her hair this time. When the water began to run cold, she decided it was time to get out. Grabbing a clean towel, she patted her body dry before wrapping it around her torso. She padded over to the sinks and wiped away the steam from the mirror. Her hair was tossed over one shoulder as she leaned forward to inspect her face. The large scar on her cheek was still an angry red color. Being a hunter, scars weren't anything new, but this one was refusing to fade and only served as a constant reminder of those few days she was held captive. The demon’s words were still fresh in her mind as if he was still standing next to her and whispering them in her ear. 

“How could you even think he would ever look twice at you?”

~

Dean appeared almost instantly at the rear door, pulling it open as it squeaked in protest. He held out his hand for her but she resisted. Instead she opted to drag herself out of the impala. The frown on his face at her refusal didn’t go unnoticed by the hunter. 

“Dean, I’m fine.” She got out through her gritted teeth as she tried to hide the grimace on her face. She used the door to haul herself to her feet, but even she wasn’t strong enough to hide the whimper that fell from her mouth as she tried to stand up straight. 

“Oh, yeah, you’re perfect.” He mocked. “Please quit being stubborn and let us help you to your room.” Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as she contemplated his offer. On the one hand she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep for a few days. On the other, every fiber in her being was trying to pull away from both the Winchesters. It was irrational, she knew that, because deep down she trusted these men more than anything, but the words of the demon were still too fresh in her mind. That was kind of the whole point though, was to sow the seeds of doubt in her mind. She just hated how well it had worked. 

Y/n nodded, her movement slight as she threw her arm over Dean’s shoulder so he could help her inside. Careful not to put too much of her weight on him, she let him guide her to her room. It was easier for her to move with his help, though she wouldn’t admit it. 

“Sammy, can you grab the first aid kit from the infirmary?” Dean looked over his shoulder at his little brother, who nodded and headed the opposite way without a word. Dean helped her sit down on the edge of her bed, his jaw ticking as he noticed her flinch again. 

Y/n kicked off her shoes, letting them fall wherever in her room as she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to pull the kinks from her still stiff muscles. Her head perked up as she heard Sam coming back down the hall. She watched as he handed the kit off to Dean, who nodded ever so slightly before closing the door behind Sam as he once again retreated. Her eyebrows scrunched as Dean turned back around.

“Take your shirt off, kid.” Dean indicated as he set the kit on the bed next to her. 

“Excuse me?” His words had caught her off guard and she blinked her eyes as she tried to focus herself. 

“Come on, your shirt is stained in blood. I know you are covered in cuts, just let me stitch you up.” Dean didn’t even look at her as he began taking items out of the kit. Alcohol, gauze, thread and a needle. All of it screaming at her as his words sunk in. 

“I’ve stiched myself up before, I’ve got this.” She tried waving him off and reached for the alcohol. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, halting her movements.

“Damn it Y/n, stop being so stubborn. You can barely move. I’m doing this, end of story.” His tone left her no room for argument. Normally, Dean didn’t phase her, she wasn’t one to back down from him. But now, she would do anything to keep him from raising his voice more than he already had. She knew that there was no way he could know what his words would do to her, so she couldn’t blame him for just being Dean.

“Fine.” Her voice was barely audible as her shaky fingers undid the last few buttons the demon hadn’t popped on her blouse. She pulled the ruined material from her body, pieces of the fabric sticking to her injuries where the blood had begun to dry. Now, in just her flimsy bra, whose material left little to the imagination, she felt more exposed than ever. 

As she finished taking off the offending fabric, Dean grabbed a towel from the kit and wet it down in the sink that sat in her room. He squatted down in front of her, dabbing the cool towel against the wound on her breast. She flinched from his touch, her body going rigid. His gaze was set on his task as heat crept up her cheeks and she was thankful that he was refusing to make eye contact with her. 

In all the times she pictured Dean getting her out of her shirt, this certainly was not one of them. Right now, she felt nothing but shame. Shame at the rolls that sat on her abdomen, shame at bruises forming under her ribs and the second gash on her flabby stomach. But mostly, shame that she ever let a demon get the jump on her in the first place. She was a poor excuse for a hunter, and now the Winchesters felt like they had to nurse her back to health. 

Dean moved on to the one on her stomach, cleaning away the blood on it as well. “These two aren’t too deep. I should be able to clean them up with some alcohol and let them heal.” He set the towel down and traded it for alcohol soaked gauze. Y/n hissed when it touched her open wound.

“‘M sorry.” Dean frowned, actually looking up at her this time. She didn’t respond to him, her eyes flitting away from him as the tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. Really, she wanted to ease his guilt by telling him it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t make her mouth form the words, not when she didn’t really believe them herself. That only made her feel guilty too. 

When she first stumbled upon the Winchesters, she had heard the stories, she knew what kind of fate followed them and those associated. Beside her better judgement though, she fell for those stupid loveable boys. They became too much like family for her to walk away, and that had become her undoing this time. So while it wasn’t actually Dean’s fault, she couldn’t help thinking how she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for those damned Winchesters. And sure, as a hunter she wasn’t naive to the fact that her life would consist of nothing but blood and death, but she had never experienced anything on this scale. She couldn’t help wishing that the demon had just finished the job. 

Dean stood up and grabbed the towel again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he pursed them. This time, he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, his fingers turning her head so he could see the gash on her cheek. 

“This one is pretty deep though, I’m going to have to stitch it up.” He commented as he cleaned away the dried blood. Y/n closed her eyes, she had figured as much, but that didn’t make the affirmation any easier. When the demon had but the blade against her skin, she had known it was worse than the others. In his rage, he had done some real damage, and now she was going to have to live with that reminder on her face everyday for the rest of her life. 

“This is gonna sting.” He added, touching the gauze to her cheek before she could react. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as he disinfected the wound. This wouldn’t even be the worst of it. 

“We don’t have anything to numb it either, unfortunately.” Dean added once he exchanged the gauze for the needle. 

“Mm, on my desk.” Y/n got out, her hand waving towards the wooden piece of furniture. Dean furrowed his brow and looked over, seeing what she was insinuating sitting there in the corner. He got up to fetch the whiskey and handed it over to her. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle and she tipped it back, taking as much as she couldn handle into her mouth and swallowing. The burn down her throat was harsh, but the instant numbness that spread through her body was welcomed. Having an empty stomach certainly helped as well. She took another long pull before offering it to Dean. He took it without word and copied her actions, handing the bottle back to her.

With one last drink from the bottle, she shook her head and let out a long breath. “Okay, I’m ready.” Dean nodded and sat back down. Y/n closed her eyes in anticipation. She tried counting in her head as she waited for Dean to start, anything to focus her mind away from what was to come. 

A grunt forced its way up her throat and out her nose as the needle pierced her skin. Her tongue was caught between her teeth now as she fought everything in her to not scream. It would only serve to mess Dean up, and she would end up more mangled than she already was. Instead, her hand flew to Dean’s thigh, her fingers squeezing into the jean clad limb. 

With all her strength put behind the action, she knew she had to be hurting him, but the hunter never even acknowledged that she had touched him. Dean took all that she had to give him without even a blink of his eye. 

The tears in her eyes spilled over the corners and ran down the inside of her cheeks. Dean’s thumb came up and brushed away the one on the cheek he was working on. 

“I’m done, kid. You can let go of me now.” There was a hint of amusement behind his soft tone as he kept her jaw cradled in his hand. Her eyes flew open, heat once more brandishing her cheeks as she let go of him like she had been electrocuted. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Dean smiled at her, their eyes locking together for a moment before he cleared his throat and began to clean up. “Uh, you’ll have to keep that dry for a few days, so uh… just be careful when you take a shower.” He rambled on as he tossed the bloody gauze before moving to rinse the towel out in the sink. 

“Thanks, Dean.” 

Dean turned back to her, his own eyes gleaming in the low light of her room. “Anyday, kid.” 

~

It wasn’t news to her that Dean was out of her league and no matter the torch she held for the hunter, she had resigned to that fact a long time ago. But there was something about having her own thoughts reaffirmed out loud by a total stranger that managed to break her. Now she has this hideous thing on her face and all hope she ever had was lost in the wind. 

With a sigh, she rubbed in some of her scar diminishing cream and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Once she could get some control over these nightmares, she was out of here anyway. There was no reason for her to stick around. If she was being honest with herself, she was just scared of being picked up again for more information on the Winchester because she knew in her heart that she would do the same thing. She would defend them with her life, but she wasn’t sure that her heart could handle being rescued again. It was these moments in the quietest hours of the nights that she wishes she had never been saved at all. Though she was quick to swallow them down deep and hide them away for another night. 

Y/n ran a comb through her hair and tossed it into a heap on top of her head before getting dressed. As she exited the bathroom, she ran straight into a solid form. Dean’s hands flew out to steady her. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled, not meeting his eye. He frowned at her as he took in the scene in front of him. There was humid air falling from the room behind her and he caught the distinctive scent of her body wash. Her favorite old concert tee was tucked into the front of her high waisted jeans. 

“It’s fine. Did you just take a shower?” He let his hands fall from her shoulders. She glanced behind her and chuckled a little. 

“Oh yeah, sorry if I woke you.” the apology slipped past her lips before she could think twice about it. It was a bad habit that she had developed since she had been saved by the boys, though she wasn’t exactly sure where it had originated from. 

“You didn’t, it just… it’s two am Y/n/n.” Dean’s tongue pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I was a little gross, didn’t feel like waiting ‘till morning. No biggie.” Y/n made a move to side step Dean but he put himself back in her way. Her eyes scrunched closed as her body tensed and Dean instantly felt like an asshole, he should have known his movement would have triggered her. 

“Listen, I have a proposition for you. Meet me at Baby in ten?” Dean lowered his shoulders and took a step out of her personal space. 

“Dean, I-” 

“Please?” He interrupted her train of thought. With a sigh, she nodded her head and went for her room. She slipped on socks and a pair of shoes and grabbed her flannel. Once she was satisfied that she had what she needed for whatever it was that Dean had planned, she made her way down to the garage. To her surprise, he was already there, loading that old green cooler into the back seat. 

Dean smiled when he noticed she had entered the garage. “Hop in, sweetheart.” 

“Where are we going?” Her curiosity peaked as she climbed in the passenger seat.

“For a drive.” Dean shrugged his shoulders and pulled the impala out into the night. He stuck in her favorite cassette tape and turned it down to a reasonable level.

“I know that, but where to?” 

“Will you just trust me?” Dean turned to her and smiled for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. 

“I trust you with my life.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. She could see out of the corner of her eye the way Dean’s jaw ticked and she wished she could take it back. 

These last few weeks had been hard on the Winchesters too. Both of them felt overwhelmingly guilty for her capture and she knew that. Once Dean had stitched her up, he could barely look at her. She assumed it was because of how mangled and frail she looked after a week of being in the demon’s capture. Really, it was the guilt he felt in his heart every time he saw the way she grimaced when she moved or the scar across her face. Sam wasn’t any better either. It took Y/n snapping at him to ‘shut up already’ when he had apologized to her for the thousandth time. None of it was their fault, really and she knew that, but what she wanted more than anything was to just move on and they were not making that easy for her.

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, only the purr of the impala’s engine and the soft lull of the cassette playing to keep them company. Y/n’s gaze was fixed out the window, watching the passing landscape and counting the stars. She had never taken a good look at the countryside of Kansas on their many trips away from the bunker. The plains spanned out from the two lane highway, a beautiful piece of undisturbed Earth. Right now, she could imagine herself laying down in the middle of one of the fields, the plush greenery underneath her body a perfect cushion as she closes her eyes and succumbs to the darkness. 

The soft click of the song changing caught her attention. The soft melody was instantly recognizable. Dean’s eyes flickered to her as she leaned to turn the song up, a ghost of a smile passing her lips. He couldn’t help the smile that now graced his own features as she mumbled along to the lyrics. It was the first time since they had brought her home that he had noticed the tension dissipate from her shoulders. 

Dean came in on the chorus, his voice only a fraction of a decibel louder than her own, but it got her attention. Her head snapped to him, her eyebrows raised on her forehead before both of them put their all into the song. 

By the time the song faded, Y/n was giggling in the seat next to Dean. The sound gripped his heart in it’s fist, it was the most amazing thing he had heard in a long time. Even under its iron grip, it was like music to his ears. He wanted to spend all night just making her laugh. That’s when he got the perfect idea. Really, he had no plan other than to just drive when he shoved her into the passenger side of the impala, but now he understood where they had been headed the whole time. 

It was someplace he had discovered not long after they had found the bunker. He had needed a moment to cool off and went on a drive much like tonight and stumbled upon the deserted clearing. Actually, he hadn’t been back since. Life had become hectic, leaving little time for leisure and eventually the place had slipped his mind. Now, he knew it could be exactly what Y/n needed just like it had been for him all those years ago. 

As he turned down the gravel road, he noticed her interest peaked at his change of course. Her eyes were even more focused on her surroundings, darting back and forth as they passed under a canopy of trees. When the foliage cleared, the lake made its appearance, the moonlight bouncing over the soft waves on the surface. 

Dean pulled the impala as close to the dock as he could and put her in park. “Come on, kid.” He leaned over with a smile and patted Y/n’s knee before climbing out of the car. The warm late summer air had a tinge of humidity. Sounds of insects and the water rolling onto the shore hit both of them as they walked towards the small wooden dock that extended into the water. 

“What are we doing here?” She asked him as she followed behind him. The old wood creaked under their weight, causing the water to splash around its base. 

“We,” He smirked as he began to shrug off his flannel. “Are going for a swim.” Dean toed off his boots, pushing them away with his discarded flannel. 

“We’re what?” She couldn’t help the rise in her voice as she watched him continue to strip. First his t-shirt before he moved on to his belt. Y/n swallowed, the action caught in her throat as he shimmied his jeans down his thighs. He stood back up, now only in his dark briefs. 

“Swimming. That’s a lake, people do that in lakes.” Sarcasm was heavy in his words as he stepped to the edge of the dock. Dean winked before turning his back to her and diving into the dark water. Running to the edge she peered into the abyss, unable to make out anything in the night. A scream of his name was on the tip of her lips just as his head broke the surface. 

Dean shook the water from his head, his grin wider than a kid in a candy store. “Come on, kid. Jump in!” He hollered to her as the gentle waves around him splashed upon his face. She could tell from her vantage he was standing on the sand below, but the water was almost veiling the entire spanse of his broad shoulders and that meant that she would need to be on her toes to keep her own head above water. 

“You are insane, Winchester! I am not getting in that water!” 

“Chicken.” He taunted her.

“Uh yeah, you’re right. I have this thing about jumping into bodies of water that I can't see the bottom of.” She wasn’t lying to him, but she also wasn’t telling him the whole truth. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to strip down into her bra and underwear in front of Dean. And she certainly wasn’t jumping into the water in them. 

“If you don’t jump, I’m just going to have to come up there and pull you in, clothes and all.” He jested. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her smile fell, knowing full well that he would. Dean cocked an eyebrow before moving to the edge of the pier. He reached up, the muscles in his arms rippling as he began to tug himself up. “Ah! Okay, okay!” Dean halted his movements but didn’t back off. 

“I hate you so much.” Her chide remark lost on a triumphant Dean. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as she turned away from him and began to undress. Her fingers were shaky as she tossed the items aside. It was too late to go back now that she was only in her bra and panties, but for some reason the idea of taking the plunge somehow scared her even more. 

���I’m waiting.” Dean sang out from below her. 

“Alright, hold your horses.” She barked and moved back to the edge. Screwing her eyes shut she leapt from dock, the cool water surrounding her as she slipped under the surface. The water was just cool enough to be refreshing, but it was also able to clear some of the fuzziness in her head before she broke back above the gentle waves. She wiped the water from her face and blinked a few times, finding Dean just inches in front of her. 

“Holy..” She breathed out. Somehow Dean knew exactly what she needed. It was like a light switched had been flipped in her head. Something about the way the dark water enveloped her body was comforting in a way she never remembered it ever being. Maybe it had something to do with the night sky above her, or even the solitude of the moment.

“I know.” Dean smirked, that air of arrogance once again crossing his features. As much as she loved the hunter wading in front of her, he could be such a smug man. She hated it and loved it at the same time. It was all a part of the Dean Winchester charm. 

“Alright,” She rolled her eyes at him. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction. Dean flicked the water between them at her face, surprising her. She retaliated, giving a bit more force behind her action and sending water cascading over his face. Dean threw his head back and chuckled.

“Oh, kid you do not want to start.” 

“Hey! You splashed me first.” She defended as Dean pursed his lips. A smirk appeared on her lips as she figured she had won this fight, only for Dean to use both hands to splash her. The force of the wave sending her underwater for a second. 

“Winchester!” She spit the water from her mouth once she breached the surface again. Dean was laughing again and she grit her teeth. He asked for this. Y/n leapt onto the tall hunter, putting all her force into dunking him under the water. Dean flailed under her for a moment before his hands found her waist and he pulled her under along with him. After a beat, he brought both of them back to surface. Dean shook the water from his hair as she wiped it from her face. Both of them bust out laughing again as they got their bearings in the water. Dean still had his hands around her waist and on instinct her arms had gone around his neck. 

For a moment, Dean’s plan had worked wonders. All of the memories and worries haunting her mind had slipped away. It was just the two of them giggling like children in the cool water. That is until she realised their proximity to each other. Even in the light from the moon, she could make out the mixture of gold and emerald in his iris’ and the sheer number of freckles that adorn his cheeks and nose. Dean was gazing right back at her, taking in the barely visible flush in her cheeks and the way the water dripped from the edges of her lashes and the tip of her nose. It took her clearing her throat and glancing away to break him from his trance. 

Tightening his grip around her waist, Dean’s hands slid up her back to push her body as close to his as he could. He nuzzled his nose against hers as she gasped, the noise sharp in the quiet night. 

“Dean.” Her breath fanned over his face and Dean closed his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?” Dean didn’t respond with words, instead choosing to show her. He knew that she was fully aware of his intentions, but that she was more worried about why. Why he chose her, or more importantly to him, why he would keep choosing her. Dean’s lips brushed against her own, the pressure almost non existent. He still wanted to give her the option to stop him. When she didn’t, he pulled away and kissed her again with a little more force. Then again, and again, and again, until she was meeting him in the middle. Her blunt fingernails were now digging into the skin at the base of his skull as she pulled him to herself, all hesitation floating away with the waves. Y/n tilted her head back and opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth and move against her own. There was something about the way he tasted to her, there was not one thing she could pinn down, all of it intoxicatingly Dean Winchester. 

As she began to slip out of his grasp, Dean’s hands flew to the back of her thighs, encouraging her to wrap them around his waist. Too drunk on his mouth against her own, her body complied of its own accord. Her whole body clung to him like he was her life line, which she supposed he was. Even with everything she went through and all the doubts in her head, she knew with all her heart that if she let go of Dean, she would drown. 

Dean pulled his lips from hers, his chest heaving as he fought for air. “Damn, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Honestly?” She nodded. “After we finally found you, you were so broken. I couldn’t help but feel guilty about that. Guilty about not protecting you. And you had changed, rightfully so. You weren’t the same girl I had stupidly fallen in love with. I didn’t know how to help you, hell I can’t even help myself out of that hole half the time.”

“So what changed?”

“You did. You bouncing your head to the beat of the music in Baby. It was you trying to drown me in a lake and laughing like the world was no longer on your shoulders. I’m sorry but I couldn’t keep this feeling in any longer.” He ran his hand over her wet locks. 

“Don’t be. Thank you Dean, for all of this. I don’t want this night to end.” Her words lowered into a soft whisper as she made her confession. 

“It doesn’t have to, kid. I’m here now.” Dean’s lips were soft but demanding as he stole her breath away one last time, pouring all his emotions and promises into his movements. He would be damned (again) if he ever let her go again. 

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfics​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​

[songbird-wings]

These Bad Dreams Feel More Than True - A Clone Wars Fic

These Bad Dreams Feel More Than True - On AO3

Summary: After an alarming nightmare, a young Padawan needs some comfort.

There was something comforting about her quarters back on the Resolute. After days of sleeping outside on the dirt and rocks of the planet below, the thin cot and blanket felt like a dream to Ahsoka. She was exhausted. Her muscles burned and ached even as she took the simple step to climb into her bed. Raising her arm to place her saber under her pillow caused her to flinch as the muscles in her shoulder screamed, but once her head hit the pillow and her eyes fluttered shut, the pain and the soreness melted away. 

“Alright men, squadron A will take the south and squadron B and C will take the north and west. Ahsoka and I have the east. Is that clear?” Her Masters' familiar, commanding voice instructed the troops. 

“Yes sir!” Came a resounding response. She looked up and Rex who gave her a smile before putting on his helmet. 

“Good luck, kid.” He told her. She grinned back. But it felt wrong. Her face was...heavy.

“Come on Ahsoka, we have a lot of ground to cover.” Anakin called for her. She shook off the strange feeling and followed her Master.

“I’m coming!” She yelled back, but her voice was muffled, as if it were coming from the inside of her skull. But Anakin seemed to have heard her, so she kept moving on. The planet they were on seemed strange. She swears her and Anakin have walked in a circle about three times but somehow they still reach their destination. They stood side by side atop a cliff overlooking a Seperatist base. It was heavily guarded. Ahsoka tried to focus on the droid pattern but her vision was blurry. She rubbed her eyes, but the haze only intensified. 

“Master I-” 

“Stay low!” He interrupted her with a hushed warning. She felt his hand on her shoulder and he pushed her down just as a searchlight scanned their location. Still, Ahsoka's vision would not focus. She blinked rapidly and shook her head. 

“Snap out of it, snips.” He seemed to scold her. “Focus!” 

“I’m trying but- '' Then he was gone. She couldn’t see well, but she heard Anakin slide down the cliff and moments later, the smell of burning metal and blaster fire filled her senses. 

She had to follow him. Someone needed to watch his back. Through hazy vision Ahsoka felt her way to the edge of the cliff, and configured her feet in front of her in case she would lose the balance. Then, she pushed off. It wasn’t as steep as she was expecting, however it was still coated in large rocks and slick mud, her foot caught on the rocks and she felt her body tumble over itself all the way to the bottom of the cliff. She felt every twig, and every rock poke and bruise herself on the way down. 

She closed her eyes, only for a moment, trying to subside the pain. But, the sounds of blasters and the yells of the troops forced them open again. This time, the world was suddenly clearer, and she was standing up. Confusion rattled her mind as her eyes adjusted. Her hand held her lightsaber, glowing a vibrant green. Ahsoka looked around and saw she was inside the compound. The compound that was filled with droids. An alarm blared in her mind and she quickly turned and deflected the blaster aimed for her head, taking out the droid that fired it.  

“Ahsoka, get over here!” Anakin's voice instructed, somehow louder than the battle around her. He was nowhere insight. All she saw were the scraps of droids and the horrifying sight of her fallen soldiers. 

“Ahsoka!” His voice echoed, her eyes frantically scanned the battlefield for her Master, but a cloud of dust was forming from all the fighting and she felt as though she were going blind again. 

“Anakin!” She shouted back, dodging more enemy fire. The dust stung her eyes. There was her name again. “Anakin, where are you?” As loud as her Master's voice was, she seemed to only be whispering no matter how hard she yelled, now her throat ached. 

“Ahsoka!” Finally. She let out a breath of relief when he stepped into her view. The dust surrounded them, and she could only see Anakin, as the dust thickened. 

“Anakin, where were you-” The red light was too quick to stop. He didn’t deflect it in time. She couldn't move, she could only watch. The blast went through his chest. Through his armor. Through his heart. He stood still a moment after it hit him, Ahsoka trying all her might to move her now paralyzed legs. And then he fell onto his back, his lightsaber dropped from his hand and rolled away. Her legs finally moved.  

“No!” Ahsoka wailed. Her voice now louder than a whisper. Loud enough to have stopped the battle outside the plume of dust, everything around her seemed to fall silent. Except for the sounds of her footsteps as she sprinted over to Anakin's side. She slid in the dirt, scraping her knees. “Master!” She whimpered, grasping his hand and hovering the other hand over the wound. 

“A-Ahsoka…” His voice was weak and she could sense his pain. Ahsoka was filled with agony as she felt the tears, warm, fall on her cheeks. 

“I’m here Master. I’m here, Anakin.” She responded between sobs. The cloud of dust seemed to be closing in around her, darkening and looming. “Don’t go.” She cried squeezing his hand as tight as she could. “Please.” Then his hand became heavy in hers, and the cloud engulfed her, filling her throat, suffocating her until-

She sat up gasping for air and coughing out the particles which were not really there. Her hand was still clutching her neck as she tried to steady her heart. Adrenaline course through her body and there was only one thing she could think of to do. Ahsoka got to her feet, exited her room, walking quickly down the corridor past a few concerned troopers, and knocked on Anakin's door. There was no answer for a few moments and she contemplated just going back to bed to try and forget the whole dream...vision?

She waited still. He probably wasn’t even in his quarters. He was the general, he was busy with other important tasks. She should go. 

“Snips?” His door opened and Anakin was standing on the other side in his sleep tunic and trousers. His hair was slightly tossed and eyes squinted at the bright lights from the hallway. He was sleeping and she had woken him up. But seeing him, alive, sleepy but alive, was enough to ground Ahsoka. She let out a breath she’d been holding since she had woken up. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t need anything. I shouldn't have woken you up, I’m fine.” Ahsoka explained. The words cascading from her mouth before she even processed them. She wasn’t fine. The image of him and the shot were still present and fresh in her mind, and every time she spoke she expected the dust to choke her. But she had to tell him she was fine. “I’m heading back to bed.” She pointed down the corridor and spun on her heels. She only made it five steps before he called after her. 

“Ahsoka.” She stopped walking and looked behind her shoulder. He had stepped out of his quarters now. “Do you want to talk about your dream?” 

“How did you know?” She turned to face him now. He only motioned into his room. 

Anakin's room was larger than hers. As was expected for the general's quarters. He also had more clutter than her. A work table on the far left of the room was littered in scrapes and caused the room to smell faintly of engine oil. His robes and armor were discarded on the floor and she noticed his lightsaber, just as he’d taught her, was beneath his pillow. She watched as Anakin switched on a lamp hung on the wall above his cot. The light coated the room in a calming orange. Anakin sat at the top of his cot and patted the space next to him for Ahsoka to sit. Once next to him Anakin let out a sigh. 

“I’m no stranger to bad dreams myself.” He admits. “To answer your question of how I knew; I could sense it off of you.” She lowered her eyes. “So, what happened?” 

Ahsoka felt something catch in her throat and her eyes sting. She closed them again, an attempt to hold back the tears, but that only caused the vision of her Master dying to flash again before her.

 “You died!” She exclaimed, letting the tears finally escape. She felt so embarrassed. It was just a dream and here she was, literally crying about it to her Master. What would he think of her?

“Come here.” Anakin said gently and suddenly arms were around her and she was pulled close to his side. 

“You were there, and- and the blaster fire hit your chest, and I couldn't move or say anything and then the dust-” She rambled and only paused because her lungs ran out of breath. She wiped at her eyes and nose, clearing her face. “You must think I’m acting like a child.” She sniffled. A short laugh escaped from Anakin.

“You still are a child, Ahsoka.” That didn’t make her feel any better. “But I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s normal for padawans to have dreams or visions of such things.” He told her calmly.

“It is?” 

He nodded. “I had vivid dreams of Obi-Wan getting hurt or dying while I was a Padawan. It took me a while to get over them. You’re not the only one, Snips.” Anakin said looking down at her. 

“How did you get over them?” Ahsoka asked, she felt her breathing steady and the warmth from Anakin's hug calmed the excessive beating of her heart. 

“Well, I realized my fear of losing him was causing the dreams in the first place.” Anakin explained. “I began trusting my Master more, and I trained harder so I could prevent anything happening to him. Attachment is frowned upon, Ahsoka. But, trust is not.” That statement repeated in her mind. 

“I do trust you, Master.” Ahsoka yawned, looking up at Anakin. She could sense the fatigue radiating from him and she felt herself crashing from the loss of adrenaline as well. She slowly placed her head onto his shoulder, waiting for him to tell her to go back to her quarters, but he never did. Instead he shifted slightly and she felt the blanket be pulled around her as her eyes drooped and grew heavy. 

“I know you do, snips. But I’m not going anywhere.” She heard Anakin whisper seconds before she drifted off. 

<<<>>>

Obi-Wan knocked. One tap, two taps, three. He waited. Four taps, five. No answer. He knew Anakin was in there, he was probably over-sleeping after a long mission again. Obi-Wan opened the door to a warmly lit room. There was a small snore coming from the cot and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, stepping inside. 

“Anakin I-” He freezes. There was the young one, nestled under Anakin's arm and laying next to him, sound asleep. Next to her, Obi-Wan's former apprentice snored softly, head leaning against the wall behind him, but deep in a slumber. A memory of years ago played in the Masters mind, of a young boy who would sneak into Obi-Wan’s quarters late at night and make a bed from his own pillows and blankets so he could sleep peacefully next to him. But, that was a long time ago. Now, that boy was a man and he had his own apprentice to comfort after a restless night.

Obi-Wan leaned down and pulled the corner of the blanket over Anakin's shoulder. He didn’t want him getting cold, as these large ships tend to make one feel. Reaching up he switched the lamp off and headed for the door. He turned and glanced at them once more before closing the door behind him. He wouldn’t wake them, not this time.