#his expression in the first panel really made me laugh out loud

[luxiaosh]

episode eleven spoiler ! ! poor sho, just let him finish his work

[heartofroses112]

Our Own Choices First Draft — Fox and Bly confronting Cody

Bly and Fox shared one last, long look before Bly activated the panel. The doors slid open on near silent tracks. There, across the room, standing by the thick transparisteel window and gazing out into the ever-changing space outside of their ship, stood the Commander. Cody. His helmet was off, nowhere to be seen in the large room.

The way he held himself, arms clasped behind his back and stance strong, was so obviously Cody. Bly didn’t know how he had never seen it before. Well, he had seen it. He’d just thought it impossible. Fox had found reports, had heard it directly from the slimeball Emperor himself of Cody’s death. But here he was, standing before them, fighting alongside them and their brothers for fourteen long years without so much as a hint to his identity.

Bly and Fox made their way across the room, footsteps muffled but just loud enough as to give their movement away. Bly rubbed his arms, wishing for the warmth of his armor. Space was cold. But the plastoid was constricting. It wouldn’t allow him to drag Cody into the bone-crushing hug he had been yearning for since the dramatic asshole had whipped off his helmet and insulted Palpatine in so many colorful ways that he must have spent years coming up with them.

Bly stepped up to Cody’s left side, staring out into space along with him. Fox stopped on Cody’s right, and for several long moments, the three of them stood in silence.

Finally, Bly could not take anymore. “Why?” he said.

“There’re a dozen answers to that question. All depends on what you’re asking.”

Bly choked on a laugh. He’d forgotten how snarky Cody chose to be when it was just their batch. And Rex, but, well, he was practically a part of their batch at this point. He had been, at least. “You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“Then you know my answer.”

“Cody.” Fox cut in, sharp and straight to the point. Out of the corner of his eye, Bly watched the full-body shudder that wracked through Cody. Bly ignored the tight pang in his chest at the hidden motion. “We thought you were dead.”

“And so did I.”

Bly frowned. “We’ve been here for the past two years at least. That’s plenty of time when you could’ve told us. Hell, what about your own men from the 212th? They’ve been here since the beginning, and they’ve been mourning their commander this whole time.”

“Until I arrived on that planet and saw your faces, I was convinced you were both dead.” Cody still hadn’t looked at them. “After the Order went out… I looked for you. But Rex was killed when they turned on Tano. Wolffe was confirmed MIA almost immediately. Fox, you, you were always at the Chancellor’s side, I couldn’t risk that you would ever join me.”

His voice was flat and without any inflection. “So that left you, Bly. But a week later, all I found were reports that you ate your blaster.”

Fox sucked in a breath.

“And I thought about… I thought that maybe… I wondered if you made the only right choice left.” His whispered words should have died at their ears. Instead, they ricocheted around the cold, steel room. “Bly, you were the one I wanted to see most. Because you…” Cody sighed, eyes falling shut even as his head tilted backward. “You were the only one who could understand.”

“Understand what?” Bly thought he knew. There was really only one thing Cody could have meant by that. But how could Bly have never known before now?

Cody’s eyes opened, gaze locked on the rivets along the outer wall. “You loved your general. And I lov—” He cut himself off, tearing his eyes away to instead stare at the ground. “I love—” He tried again.

“Oh, Cody.” Bly’s heart was in his throat, breaking into pieces for the pain that was still so clearly etched across his brother’s face. There was a reason Cody wore his helmet more than the rest of them; he’d never been able to hide his true feelings when he was just so damn expressive. It’s how Wolffe had known if he had pushed Cody too far when they were still just cadets. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Rex told me to wait,” he said simply. “He thought it would be funny if you all saw me and… If you guessed. It wasn’t hard, apparently.” He loosed a breath from between his teeth. “Course, then the Order went out.”

“Cody, I’m so sorry.” Again, Cody shuddered at the sound of his name. Bly longed to drag his brother into his arms. But Cody wasn’t ready for that yet, not after so many years with no more contact than the mission required.

“It can’t be changed.”

“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” Fox murmured, stepping slightly closer to Cody. “And you’ve kept this inside for so long.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Bly asked, suddenly so full of rage at the self-imposed exile his brother placed himself in. “We’ve been here for years now, Cody. And it’s not just us. What about everyone from the 212th? They’ve been mourning their commander, their brother for so long and you’ve just been here the whole kriffing time?”

“I will not expect you to understand my actions.”

“Damnit, Codes, we want to talk to you, not the karking Commander! We’ve been around him enough.” Fox glowered at the side of Cody’s head. But Cody still didn’t look at either of them.

“He’s all that’s left.” Cody’s voice was devoid of emotion. He returned to looking out the viewport, the light of distant stars reflecting on his face. “Cody died the day he shot down his General and felt no remorse.”

“It was the chips,” Fox tried.

“I was still the one to follow the Order. And then my brothers were dying around me, and my batchmates were gone, and there was no one left to understand how I felt, and there was so much riding on my fucking shoulders. So, you do not get to come in here and lecture me. There is nothing else I have wanted more than to look at my brothers without a karking helmet between us, to actually be with them and not just be the karking Commander!”

Cody’s chest heaved, his fists clenched tight against his thighs. Fox and Bly exchanged a look, the same expression of worry and hurt flashing between them. Cody turned and paced several steps away from them. “You have no idea,” he started, voice low and tightly controlled, “how hard it has been this past decade, to see you, my closest brothers, and not be able to lessen your grief, to not hold you close and feel safe.”

“No one is making you do this.” Bly felt as if he were pleading, begging a brother to step back, step off the ledge.

Cody sighed, eyes still squeezed shut. “I know. But… I don’t deserve… I can’t… How can I be happy, Bly, when I killed him? I love, I loved, I loved him, and he loved me too. How can I ever forgive myself when the last thought he probably ever had was of how the men he trusted with his life were now the ones taking it?”

Bly stared at his brother. He had so much pent-up… self-hatred. Disgust with himself. Loathing of his actions that had not been his own actions at all. There was a distinct prickling at the back of Bly’s eyes as he watched Cody desperately try to hold the pieces of himself together.

“Cody.” Fox took a step toward Cody.

Cody’s shoulders shook. “Stop,” he bit out.

“Cody,” Fox said again.

Cody turned his head away, eyes still shut. His scar, the scar that was oh so distinctive, the scar that marked him as Cody, the scar Bly had searched for in vain on every brother he met, caught the faint light from above. “Stop it.”

“Let yourself be you again, Cody,” Bly said, closing the distance between them. The pair of them were once more in reach of their lost brother. “Doing this… hiding yourself away in repentance, it’s only letting Palpatine win.”

Cody flinched, but still, he didn’t look at them.

Fox pushed on. “I didn’t know your General well. None of us did, there… there wasn’t time. But I know he fought for our individuality, our sense of self that so much of the Republic tried to wash away. You’ve always been Cody, our Cody. But you never seemed so much like yourself, so confident in who you were and what you fought for, than after you joined Kenobi.”

“He’s dead now,” Cody whispered with a tremble in his voice.

“So, carry on his legacy.” Bly searched his brother’s face, familiar lines that meant upset and anger and stress, tightness in his jaw that meant stubbornness and fear. “Cody, won’t you look at us?”

“The helmet’s gone, Cody,” Fox murmured. “Let us see you. Look at us, please.”

Perhaps it was the ‘please.’ Fox never said it before, not unless the world was ending, or a brother was dying. Slowly, so slowly, Cody turned his head, entire body still trembling. His eyes slid open, and then it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough, gaze flickering between Bly and Fox and never staying still for more than a moment.

“Won’t it be so much more powerful,” Fox said, “when Palpatine is brought down by Cody and Fox and Bly, not just the Commander and his nameless clones?”

“Kenobi and… and Aayla.” Bly stopped, suddenly unable to speak beyond the burning in his throat. He dragged in a breath and continued. “They loved us, Cody. They loved us for who we are. Don’t erase that. Live as Cody, and do it for him. Do it for us, for all the brothers you have rescued. Please, we… we need you. We need Cody far more than we have ever needed the Commander.”

Cody heaved a broken sob, teeth tight against the sound in an attempt to keep it inside. He looked at the wall again, hands clenched around the edges of his armor. Bly fell silent, just watching his brother. If Cody was to come back to them… it would have to be on his own terms. Cajoling and pushing had never worked to make Cody see sense. He always was too stubborn for his own good.

“The Commander is all I know anymore.”

Bly’s heart threatened to break in two. His vision grew blurry. He blinked, hard.

Fox looked similarly affected. But he swallowed. Then he raised his chin and stared Cody down. “If that’s true, if… if you don’t know how to be Cody anymore, then why did you reveal yourself to Palpatine? Why now, after so many years of hiding your face?”

Cody looked at Fox, brow furrowed. “He was threatening you,” Cody said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Fox froze in place. “He scares the shit out of you, Fox, and nothing does that. No one is allowed to do that.” Cody shrugged, eyes still dancing over Fox’s face. “I thought I’d give him a new target to hate.”

Fox still wasn’t moving. Cody sighed and looked away, fingers still digging into his armor. “I… I should go. There’s a lot to do, now that I’ve karked everything up and—”

“Cody,” Fox breathed. “Oh, Cody, Cody, Cody.” He reached out, hands shaking as he brushed the side of Cody’s plastoid-covered arms. Cody stiffened but did not move as Fox dragged him in, crushing him against his chest. Fox was still repeating Cody’s name, burying his face against Cody’s hair, hands tight around his back.

Cody gasped, eyes wide and body trembling like a leaf in a storm. He crumbled into Fox’s hold, pressing his face against Fox’s neck as they clung to each other. “Cody, Cody, my Cody,” Fox continued to whisper like a prayer.

Bly surged forward, sweeping both his brothers into his arms. Bly and Fox squeezed Cody between them, hard plastoid hampering them only slightly. Bly’s forehead rest against the back of Cody’s neck, and his skin felt hot and feverish, a sign of the long, long years without a touch of comfort and love.

Bly couldn’t hold back the tears that trickled down his cheeks, melting down Cody’s neck and into the blacks under his armor. Cody continued to tremble, hands clutching desperately at Fox even as he pressed back into Bly.

“We’re here, Cody. We’re here, we’re here,” Bly murmured. “We have you. Let go, Cody, we have you.”

And so, Cody let go, the grief and anger and hatred that had been building up for over a decade with no outlet finally pouring from him in devastating waves. Cody did not cry, of that Bly was sure. But he trembled and shook and shattered beneath their hands, dry sobs and broken apologies, apologies that Bly meant to return but just could not find the words.

Bly had failed Cody for years, had failed him the day Bly had faked his death and ran from the Empire. But he would not fail him any longer. Cody would never feel alone again, would never feel the same lack of choice and want. Bly would make sure of it. Fox would as well, and the remainder of the 212th, and the 501st, and every brother in between.

For the first time in many, many years, Bly thought of the Jedi, of his Jedi, with only solid resolve. I promise, Aayla. And General Kenobi, if you can hear me. I won’t let him down. I’ll keep him safe. And we’ll avenge you. Palpatine will suffer for all he’s done, to you and to Cody and to everyone else. But for now, Bly kept his batchmates close and held them as if nothing else in the galaxy mattered. Nothing else ever would.

pt 1 | pt 2

[porcelainseashore]

A Party of Two

First snow / Fake relationship / Ugly sweater || Leon Secret Santa || Gift for @sillydicejelly as part of the @leonsecretsanta event

Summary: It’s not every day that you bump into the one and only Agent Kennedy alone at the office. And it’s certainly not every day that you invite a stranger to your family’s Christmas party. The question is, can you convince Leon to celebrate his most hated holiday with you?

Time flies. Before you knew it, nearly another year had gone by, along with its series of missions done and dusted. It was a week before Christmas, and a particularly unassuming mid-December morning when you stepped into the office elevator, engrossed with your phone and the multitude of messages coming in from your family group chat. The screen lit up with a loud ping each time a new one was sent.

“Aunt Gretchen won’t be able to make it this time.”

“Damn, that’s a shame /s”

“Language!”

“Yes, mooooommmm…”

“Anyway, don’t forget the dessert!”

“And the dress code!”

“Hey! Could you hold the doors for a sec—” A deep baritone voice rang out in the distance, interrupting your reverie.

Oops. You shook your head from your thoughts, glancing up at an all-too-familiar face and a pair of cerulean blue eyes piercing through dirty blonde curtain bangs. He made a run for it as you slammed your hand against the closing elevator.

“Agent Kennedy,” you greeted politely with a simple nod.

“Uh-uh,” he wagged his finger cheekily, somehow managing to slide through the doors gracefully without breaking out into a sweat. “It’s just Leon.”

“Leon,” you acknowledged. 

It was refreshing how he didn’t have a stick up his ass like the rest of the goons who worked in the DSO, regardless if he was the golden boy or not. However, since you were in different departments, you hardly interacted with each other outside of the required formalities. It didn’t help as well that you considered yourself more of a wallflower than anything. Surely he wouldn’t—

As if right on cue, he uttered your name, followed by, “Angela’s PA, right?”

“How did you—” “You think I wouldn’t know who the amazing PA of the head honcho is?” he rebutted, his lips curling up in a smile as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

You were at a loss for words. “Um,” was about all you could manage.

“Come on, don’t die on me now,” he laughed, shrugging as he continued, “I’m just good with names, faces, you know, all that jazz.” He fanned his hands to illustrate his point before pausing abruptly and dropping them down to his sides, as if he had remembered that he was in a security division, not a children’s playground.

Clearing his throat sheepishly, he turned to the control panel. “Second top floor, right?” Without waiting for you to answer, he punched the button and the lift started to move.

The silence in the space was awkward and deafening, so much so that you felt an innate desire to make small talk to pass the time.

“So, you doing anything for Christmas?”

For a split second, you spotted a wince in Leon’s expression before he masked it, and you instantly regretted the words you had blurted out.

“N-nah, not really,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze as he forced out a cordial smile. “Not my thing.”

Pursing your lips, you recalled the way your colleagues often heaped praises and compliments onto the man before you, only to gossip about his personal life in hushed whispers behind his back. That was the double-edged sword of being something akin to a celebrity hero in the office. It usually went along the lines of:

“Poor Leon, that guy’s a loner. No partner, no kids, no family.”

“No wonder he’s a workaholic!”

“I heard he’s pretty good friends with the bottle, if you know what I mean.”

“With the kinda shit they put him through? I’d be damaged goods myself.”

You had heard it all. And though you were never consulted for your opinion of him, you found their talk a little mean-spirited.

Without thinking, you stated, “We’re having a small celebration at my parents’ house. It’s only about an hour and a half’s drive away. You’re welcome to join if you want?”

Your hand flew to your mouth, shocked that you had actually uttered the first thing that came to your mind. Leon just stared at you, seemingly having trouble finding the right words to say.

Scrambling to come up with an excuse or to backtrack, or both, you sputtered, “Well, uh, you see, we have this thing where, uh, it’s not great to spend the holidays alone. You know? So, well, sorry, forget what—”

At this, Leon chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “Thanks, really, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’ll be alright.” On my own.

You had no idea what possessed you to do what you did next, but you whipped out a sticky note from your bag and scribbled down your number with a ballpoint pen.

“Here,” you thrust it into his hands. He looked just as surprised as you. “Just… think about it, okay?”

Ding.

The doors opened and you hastily made your exit, mentally cussing at yourself for being so bold and assuming toward an almost-stranger.

“What’s the dress code?” you heard his voice call out from behind you.

Spinning around, you caught a glimpse of his lopsided grin as you smiled back. “Ugly Christmas sweater, of course.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

“No promises.”

That was the last text you received from him on the day of the Christmas Eve party. Leon appeared to have cold feet, which didn’t take you by surprise, seeing as he had been hesitant to begin with.

You sighed.

Perhaps it would take him a couple more years to come round to it. What on earth were you thinking anyway, inviting him to a family-do like that? Not to mention, you had already written in the group chat about bringing a plus one. Jumping the gun much? Well, at least you still had an afternoon’s worth of errands to run and distract yourself with. You could worry about the explanation later.

Soon, the gifts were wrapped up and ready to go, and the spiced ginger Yule log you had baked sat pretty on the counter. After loading all of the goodies into the backseat of your car, you started the engine and embarked on the long drive to your parents’ house.

In the meantime, Leon had been lounging on his living room couch, complete with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand as he swirled the melting ice in it lazily. Such a let-down, he thought. You didn’t deserve that, and as a matter-of-fact, you didn’t deserve any of this. He peered at the liquor bottle he had just cracked open, mocking him as he gulped down the remnants of the liquid from his chilled glass.

Smacking it onto the table, he was about to pour himself another shot when his phone buzzed. He saw your name flash up on his screen. Normally, he wouldn’t bother to check or answer it during his drinking sessions, but this time, curiosity got the better of him. It was a message with an attachment. Hmm, interesting.

Upon opening it, he saw a selfie of you posing in your horrendous-looking sweater and a mouth-watering dessert behind you. You were holding a present in one hand and making a funny face. The message read, “Come to the dark side, we have cake…”

He burst out laughing—he had to admit, it was rather cute of you to try, especially when no one else had before. Fiddling with the device in his hand, he hesitated, wondering if he should spend another night drowning himself in alcohol at home, alone, or whether he should take a chance on you and celebrate the holiday he hated the most with a bunch of strangers.

“Ahh, what the hell,” he mumbled before pocketing his phone and coming to his decision.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was half past seven in the evening when you reached your parents’ house. Most of the guests had arrived by then and the celebrations were underway. The hallway was bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights and a large fir tree stood by the corner, decked out in festive garlands and ornaments as presents were tucked beneath its coniferous branches. The delicious smell of stuffed turkey, rib roast, baked ham, mince pies, and eggnog wafted through the air. Your family had prepared a feast and you were surrounded by your close ones. All was in its rightful place, but there was just one thing missing—Leon.

“So… I’m looking forward to seeing this plus one you’ve been talking about,” your mom nudged you as she sauntered over with a plate full of food.

Sensing your unease, your older sister came to the rescue, which you were ever thankful for. “Mom, stop, give it a break already.”

“I’m just curious! It’d be nice to meet this mystery person, hmm?”

You shifted between your feet uncomfortably. At this rate, you were pretty sure that Leon had bailed on tonight’s plans, so you might as well come clean about it. “Well, um, he—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the doorbell rang. Wait, could that be him? Your heart leaped in its cage.

“I’ll get it!” your younger brother yelled as he ran toward the door and you chased after him.

Yanking it open, both of you were greeted by the devil himself. The corners of his eyes crinkled, deep blue set against his pale skin, flushed from the cold.

“Sorry for being late,” he said, extending his arms toward you as you froze up in astonishment. Your younger brother stealthily gave you a push forward and you stumbled—quite literally—into Leon’s awaiting arms.

“Oof, hey!” he laughed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry,” you stammered while you held onto him to find your footing. 

Once you had regained your balance, the scratchy material of his outfit caused you to have a proper look. From the porch lights, you could just about make out the knitted design. There was a figure of who you assumed was meant to be Jesus, sitting on a reindeer and riding it into an explosion of stars with an assortment of ill-matching Christmas trees in the background.

Noticing the perturbed expression on your face, Leon asked with a tinge of anxiety in his voice, “Ugly sweater, right?”

That was when you started giggling, realizing that his sweater definitely outclassed yours in whatever imaginary competition you had in mind. “God, that’s terrible! Okay, you win.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the prize?” he smirked.

At this point, your parents had come to the door to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing Leon standing outside in the cold, they ushered him in quickly, asking him to make himself at home. 

As Leon settled in and went through the customary round of introductions, the topic that you had been dreading came up—naturally, from your nosey mom of course. “How well do you two know each other?” she pried. “Are you two…”

Leon glanced between you and your mom as she trailed off purposefully, and while you nearly choked on your saliva, he didn’t seem fazed at all. Instead, he responded with a disarming smile, “Yes, we are.”

Your mom emitted a contented hum, turning to your dad with a knowing look, and your eyes shot up to meet his in panic. However, he placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, mouthing the words, “Relax, I got this,” as he gave you a brazen wink. 

You had no idea what sort of game he was playing or where he was going with this, but he had a way about him that made you want to place your trust in him. And so, you eased up, allowing him to take the lead in the conversation while showing him to the dining table. Your dad served him a plate and Leon poured out the wine he had brought as a gesture of appreciation. 

Dinner went on without a hitch, filled with warm-hearted chatter and a never ending supply of food and beverages, in which all of you ate and drank until you were stuffed. Although your family could use a lesson in minding their own business, they were relatively easy-going and laid-back, so much so that Leon appeared to be enjoying the company. He seemed brighter and lighter than when you usually saw him in the office, away from all the scrutiny and judgment that could be found there. It was as if he was getting energized by the banter and a social environment which expected nothing from him, but to just be himself.

Your parents took to him and so did your siblings, being none the wiser to the fact that you and Leon were still practically strangers. Well, strangers was too harsh a word. It was more like: not quite friends yet not quite strangers. Occasionally, you would sneak a peek at each other from across the room, sharing shy smiles and furtive glances.

You were pleasantly surprised by how smooth Leon could be when he wanted to, considering that your earlier exchanges with the man had been stilted at best. It was never like how it was in the movies, where couples would hit it off instantly at ditzy meet cutes. Hold on a minute—couple? You mentally berated yourself for thinking about you and Leon on romantic terms. It must be the holiday season making people feel lonely, you figured. How many times had you received drunken, emotionally-wrought texts from exes, only to have them fumble with excuses for sending it out the next day? Anyway, this was nothing. What you had with Leon would only last for tonight, like a trick of the light. You went back to rearranging the gifts under the tree for the umpteenth time.

It was getting late. As your family had a tradition of only opening their presents on Christmas Day itself, they wanted to head to bed soon.

“Leon, you’re very welcome to take the bed in the guest room if you like,” your father offered.

“It’s a long drive back after all,” your mother hinted with a wily grin on her face. Your sister sighed and rolled her eyes while your brother suppressed an obvious laugh.

You saw a slight blush creep up Leon’s neck, but he relented. “Well, if you insist. I can’t thank you enough for all your hospitality.”

Your parents waved off his comment as everyone helped to clear up the dishes. When the remaining chores were finished, you brought Leon to his room, giving him a fresh set of towels, toiletries, and spare clothes from your dad as the rest went to sleep.

“You didn’t have to lie about us, you know?” you mentioned, touching his arm gently. “I mean, I appreciate it.”

“I know.” He brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, causing it to tingle. “It’ll be our little secret.”

You scoffed at his quip, shaking your head in mock disbelief before pulling away. “Well, I’ll get ready for bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Mm-hmm.”

After you cleaned up and changed into your pajamas, you went outside to sit on the old wooden swing by the porch. It was draped with fluffy cushions and a thick fleece blanket, which you snuggled under to get comfy. This was your favorite time of the night, when the world was quiet and through the darkness you could spot faint glimmers of light from the street. The air was frosty and you could see your breath condense into puffs of mist.

“Is this a party of one?”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even heard the front door creak open. Leon was standing beside the swing, motioning to the empty spot beside you. “Mind if I join you?”

Scooting over to give him some room, you jested, “Sure, as long as you don’t steal the whole blanket.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked as he sat down, wrapping his body with the covers.

You trembled as the chilled air hit your skin and he raised an eyebrow. “Cold?”

“No—” But your body betrayed you as you shivered uncontrollably again.

“C’mere,” he muttered, shifting his position as he opened his arms so that you could scuttle in between them.

You gulped nervously but gave in, moving closer as you leaned your head against his chest, catching a whiff of his musky cologne. In response, he snaked an arm around your shoulders in the form of a semi-embrace. His chin rested on the top of your head, and the warmth radiated from his body to yours and back again as you heard his heart beating—maybe a little faster? If someone had told you that you would end the night cuddling with Agent Leon Scott Kennedy, you would have said they were out of their mind, but yet here you were.

“Your Yule log was delicious,” his voice cut through the tense silence and you could hear it reverberating through his chest.

“I knew it’d sway you over to the dark side,” you teased. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t miss out on that?”

His fingers stroked through your hair absentmindedly. “I’m glad I didn’t miss out on all of this.”

You peered up at him inquisitively as he continued, “I haven’t… done something like this in a long time. I kinda forgot how nice it can be…”

Reaching out, you took his hand in yours and squeezed it. “I’m happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy that you’re here too.”

It came out as a barely-heard whisper, but before he could speak any further, a crystallized snowflake fell onto your cheek. You thought it might have been a fluke at first, but soon, more and more feathery flakes landed on your clothes and hair, littering the floorboards of the front porch in a myriad of geometric shapes.

“It’s snowing,” you gasped.

“First snow of the year.” Leon looked up, similarly in awe at the blinding yet beautiful scenery before him.

You stuck out your tongue to taste the fluffy, sticky ice which fizzled and melted on it. Then, a sudden thought struck you. 

“What time is it?” you asked.

Leon untangled his arm from underneath the layers, squinting at the clock face of his leather-strapped wrist watch. “Just past midnight—”

You jolted up, taking him by surprise. “It’s Christmas?”

Grinning at you, his hands encircled your wrists, the palms of which still laid on his chest. “Uh-huh, so, about my prize…” he tapered off suggestively.

“We’ll unwrap the gifts later with the rest of my family,” you scolded playfully.

“No, I mean, the prize I get for wearing the ugliest sweater in town,” he snickered.

Your heart was in your mouth as your mind raced, simultaneously attempting to come to terms with what he was implying and second-guessing yourself. 

“What kind of prize…” you began, but didn’t manage to complete the sentence as you found yourself drifting toward him on your own accord, closing the gap as you licked your lips and watched with bated breath.

His gaze dropped to your lips as he caressed your cheek with his knuckles. Cupping your face in his hands, he tilted his head, nudging his nose against yours as he planted a tender kiss along your parted lips. You stayed like this for a while, tentatively exploring, soft kisses and skin upon skin, tasting each other until the both of you were satisfied.

When you finally broke away, there was a fond look in his eyes, as though he were seeing you for you, just like you did with him. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, voice half-dazed and husky.

“Merry Christmas, Leon,” you smiled.

Dividers by @saradika

[sunmoonline]

Chapter 2 The System

After slowing down, Noah suddenly felt a little embarrassed. “What the hell! You scared me!”

The plushie feebly rose up from the ground and hid behind a flower, comically hiding his chubby body behind a thin stem cautiously poking his head out to peep at him. Its voice was a little lost and aggrieved. 【Dear Host, please don't get so surprised when you are the one who used violence against the system.】

Sheepishly scratching the back of his head, he let out a reluctant laugh and crouched beside the little flower, "Hahaha right, ah, sorry for that little guy."

Seemingly appeased, it floated out from behind the stem and puffed out its chest as if to say No-sweat!-I'll-be-the-bigger person. 【It's alright, Dear Host! I also apologize for accidentally surprising the host. It took a long time to build the system, so it was only now that I got activated. Then I will formally welcome dear Host again.】

【Mr. Noah. Welcome to the Beastmen Continent. I am Druid System 001. But you may call me 001】

"Noah! What are you doing dawdling there? Come on." The pink bunny's loud whining came from the front, attracting the attention of everyone at the party to look their way. When they heard that Noah was dragging his feet, while the males didn't feel any dissatisfaction, the females looked at him with unkind expressions.

The males in the party all had partners already. Only their partners are allowed to ride on a male beastman's back so the females could only walk to the place agreed upon for the exchange. When had these pampered females ever had to walk so far without any assistance? Everyone was tired and when they heard him lazing all their frustrations were directed at him.

This woman was originally Noah’s toxic friend.  She never leaves any opportunity to shame Noah, just like now. Something that could be said quietly, was loudly announced to everyone portraying Noah in a bad light.

Noah was too lazy to respond to this childish provocation. After all, he was a man. Squabbling with little girls over such insignificant problems was unsightly. "Ah! it's nothing. I was just a little tired, sorry." Apologizing before others could even say a sentence, really makes people feel stifled.

Noah hugged the little system plushie in his arms and smiled softly at the sudden twisted expressions on the bunny's face. For some reason, although the smile was still pure, it made him look quite sly. As a person who has read a considerable amount of novels of course he knew what a system was.

It’s just that the surprise came too quickly. After a little ecstasy, he thought of the anti-golden finger novels he had read before, “Are you real? Where is your badge? ID card? Certificate? Is there a Host Helpline Channel? Is there a complaint channel?” 

Druid System 001: 【……】 It felt offended that the host didn’t believe the system.

The unique voice of the 001 was a little less nonchalant than before,【Of course, I am authentic! Host, please believe in the system! Please look!】 With that, a blue translucent panel appeared in front of his eyes with a System Identification Certificate and an Inter-dentinal work permit. Both of the documents bore the stamp of the Time and Space Administration Bureau. The information that caught his eyes was:

System status: Novice

Host: Noah, Blue Star

Local god signature: Ragher, The Beast God 

So the little thing was working with the Beast God ah. The most important thing was that there really was a complaint button in the lower right corner!

When Noah tried to reach out and click on it, 001 was stupefied for a second and started to cry: 【What did 001 do wrong? Why Host? Why? Why do you want to report 001? Tell 001 Host? 001 will change!】

Distract him and he won’t want to complain.

If this system was reported, it would be locked for many years!

He is its first-ever host. It didn’t want to be screwed up right away!

Noah took back his hand and listened to the mournful voice of the system like a heartbroken girlfriend trying to keep her scumbag boyfriend from leaving. He immediately hugged the little plushie and caressed the top of the plushies tophat, coxing softly “No- no, I was just a little curious. Don't cry little doll.”

The 001 breathed a sigh of relief and sniffed quietly, speaking in a low voice, 【Dear Host, 001 will issue you tasks. As long as the host is able to complete these tasks, corresponding abilities, system coins, and rewards will be issued after assessment. Attributes mainly comprised of constitution, memory, spiritual power, beauty, life expectancy, talents, and others. The host also has a talent panel with talents such as martial arts, cooking, drawing, carving, playing musical instruments, acting, and computer skills, among others, Host can use system points to buy these talents. These talents would need to be practiced so that he could fully grasp them. There is also the system mall, although the quantity is small, the items in the system mall get refreshed every 7 days.】

【As the host completes the tasks, he will be able to become a Great Druid, avert the crisis looming over the Beastkin, and lead them to greatness~】

However, after listening to all this, Noah didn't even so much as blink his eyes. Maybe it was because 001 was still a novice, it left out many details in its explanation but Noah already got the gust of it. with how idiotic the female lead and her partners were there is no way that the fate of the Beastkin will be secure. So the Beast God must have requested for assistance from the Time and Space Administration Bureau resulting in his transmigration.

"So, what happens if I fail a task?" Although Noah didn't think that he would fail the tasks assigned by 001, he still asked out of curiosity.

【If the host fails to complete the tasks, then a punishment mission will be issued according to the situation. But the host doesn't need to worry about this! all the tasks issued by 001 are simple, and according to 001's calculations, the probability of the host failing the mission is almost less than 10%. Don't worry dear host! 001 believes in the host !】

Looking at the little plate doctor in his arms, waving its hands and saying that it believed in him, although he didn't believe in the little rascal at all, Noah still felt a little cute inside.

[not-that-dillinger]

Clu grinned like a Cheshire cat, delighted to play with the prey it caught.

Ed was a good actor. A friend dragged him into it in high school, and he continued through college. And then that acting became a survival tactic when he had been appointed to the board of directors. Mackey had appointed him with the hopes that he had his father's mind for business, since Edward Dillinger Senior himself couldn't be appointed. Mackey would never see Ed for who he was, but Ed knew how to impersonate his father; he'd survived under his father's cold, controlling thumb, so he knew that cruelty intimately. The persona that Ed carefully crafted for the board meetings wasn't quite an impersonation of his father (even if Mackey deserved it, Ed couldn't quite bring himself to expose everyone else to what he had been exposed to, growing up), but it made it easier to deal with the board. It was both armor and life-saver, and helped him to compartmentalize everything he felt.

It took every bit of Ed's will to not shrink back from Clu and instead square his shoulders, lift his chin, straighten his spine, and fix his expression to something cold as he shifted fluidly first into the boardroom persona, and then into something that would have reminded another program also by the name of Clu of the MCP's champion, or Flynn of the man who had stolen his games in all but appearance.

Like the board room persona, though, it's all fake bravado.

Clu opened his mouth to say something, but Ed beat him to it.

"So you're Clu," Ed said.

Clu's mouth twitched in irritation.

Good. If Ed was going to die, he was going to do as much damage to Clu as he possibly could.

"Disappointing," Ed continued. "I expected... more."

The guard with the staff rammed the end of it into Ed's gut.

Ed clenched his jaw, refusing to make a sound, even as he reflexively doubled over, winded and gasping for breath.

Clu chuckled, eyes glinting with malice. "You're feisty, aren't you?" he mused. "I couldn't have Tron by my side, but you'll do nicely. Better than Tron, even. I will enjoy watching you tear Flynn apart when he comes, thinking he can save you.

Ed laughed. "You think you can use me as bait?" he asked. "You think he'll come rushing to save me? The son of the man he put in jail for stealing his games? Well, sorry to disappoint, but you're sorely mistaken."

Ed never met Flynn, so he couldn't know for certain, but he certainly didn't expect Flynn to come save him. He hoped Flynn wouldn't. He didn't need Flynn. And while he appreciated Ark's help, he could certainly save himself... he just needed to stall long enough that the code would wear off so he could access the Grid's code and delete Clu.

That thought was easier to focus on than whatever horror was implied by the fact that Clu aparently expected Ed to work for him.

Clu chuckled. Either disbelieving or uncaring. "We'll see about that," he said. He gestured towards the giant test-tube, and the guards shoved him inside.

The soldier with the purple insignia tapped something on a control panel, and Ed raised his disc over his head, suddenly not in control of his body.

He could feel... the machine... attempting to extract his code from his disc. The room seemed to spin, and Ed was overcome with vertigo. and there was a sharp pain to the top of Ed's head, like something was drilling into his skull. He could feel code inside his head, as it was overwritten on his disc, read the lines, and this was very not good, but Ed couldn't do anything about it, couldn't fight it. Distantly, he knew he was screaming in agony from the code invading his mind, but he didn't really have much situational awareness beyond the code whispering in his mind.

Fight for Clu.

Enforce perfection.

Serve Clu.

Perfection is freedom.

Obey Clu.

The whispers got louder, until they reached a crescendo so loud they drowned out any other thoughts

And them the pain faded to a dull ache. He could still feel the code inside his head, still hear it whispering, but no more was being written onto his disc.

The test-tube vanished, and Ed dropped to the floor.

He stood up, and stood perfectly still, awaiting Clu's orders, and emitting a low growl.

"Now... Who do you fight for?" Clu asked.

"I fight for Clu," Ed responded automatically.

"Good. Now... Appropriate their functions."

Ed turned to the guard and held her head with both hands. Orange cracks radiated out in her shell from where Ed held her as he drew out her functions and integrated them with his rectification code. The soldier crumbled into orange cubes.

The cubes of the other four soldiers soon mixed with hers, scattered across the rectification room's floor.

Faintly, Ed could hear muffled screaming in the back of his head, like some distant part of his subconscious was horrified at what he had done. Ed ignored that voice. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Clu's will.

Ed turned back to Clu, awaiting his next instructions.

The door opened, and another program entered. Ed turned to him, ready to attack.

"Dyson," Clu said.

"Your escort to the arena is waiting, sir." Dyson reported.

"Good," Clu said. "It's time to introduce the Grid to it's new enforcer." He turned to Ed. "Come."

Ed followed Clu out of the building and toward the arena.

[From "Send me ⚓️ for our muses to be shipwrecked together"

...Not sure who should approach who, and this got really long, so leaving it at this...

—@not-that-dillinger]

Ultimately, how Ed ended up on the Grid was trivial. An anomaly he noticed, and couldn't stop thinking about, and, on a whim, went to go investigate.

It didn't take him long to find Flynn's creepy basement lab. It took him less time to find the digital world (he was without a doubt inside the computer, because that was most certainly the digitization laser he shot himself with).

It took them even less time to find him.

All he knew was that one moment he was standing in a dusty arcade, the next... he was still standing in the arcade, except as if it existed in a different dimension. In a different world.

And then two... programs? in glowing orange suits approached him, arrested him (for what, he wasn't certain), and put him on one of those ships from Flynn's game that he was never allowed to play as a kid. Space Paranoids, if he remembered correctly.

In any case, they put him on the ship, with several other programs. He'd already had a stressful day (thanks, Mackey), and was barely keeping it together when one of the other programs mentioned that they were all going to 'derezz.' Ed wasn't certain what that word meant, but from the context, he was convinced the guards were taking them to their deaths.

He was claustrophobic from the number of people programs on the ship, and he may have shot himself with a high-powered laser, but he certainly didn't want to die.

He couldn't breathe, he could barely form a thought from how his mind was reeling.

And then suddenly Ed could feel the lines code that made up the ship, and their restraints that held his feet in place. He had no idea what he did, but the next moment, their restraints were gone.

The woman next to him instantly attacked the guards with a staff he had no idea where she got it from. The ship descended into chaos as the other programs joined in the melee, and then in altitude when one of the programs destroyed the ship's pilot with the disc on their back.

Ed didn't have a disc, or a staff, and he certainly didn't know anything about piloting... anything, really, but nobody had yet realized that their ship was about to crash. So he carefully skirted the edge of their cabin to the controls.

A joystick. Really Flynn? Murder on his wrist. Joy of joys.

Ed... tried to keep them flying, but he had never been good at video games, and he really didn't have time to do much but pull up and lessen the impact when they crashed into the mountainside.

The next thing he knew, he was face down in the snowy, barren wasteland outside the city. When he rolled over to see his surroundings, the recognizer was a fair distance away (he see it clearly: blessedly, his glasses weren't broken in the crash). He must have been thrown out one of the broken windows in the crash. His ears rang, and Ed was certain he was both bleeding and concussed.

There was someone else lying in the snow, thankfully a distance away, but Ed had no idea what happened to the rest of the programs on the ship.

He knew he should get moving, in case any of the guards survived, but Ed needed a moment to recover before he attempted anything else.

((Ooooh, awesome, thank you so very much!))

Living on the Grid was hazardous nowadays, especially for a Renegade. Ark specialized in causing trouble for the Occupation, but knew that it was going to catch up with her one of these cycles.

She had been pulling another one of her self-assigned missions, when the sky had lit up in a way she hadn't seen in countless cycles.

A User was rezzing into the Grid.

Unfortunately, the beam of light distracted her long enough for the Occupation to catch up to her.

Badly outnumbered, Ark decided to save her strength for better odds.

She was loaded into a Recognizer, along with quite a few other programs.

A short time later, someone was loaded in next to her, someone with strange clothes she had never seen before. Was he the User? Or just a program with a quirky style? Was odd fashion a good enough reason for him to be arrested?

As she analyzed him, all of a sudden, him, her, and everyone else was free.

She took advantage of the surprise and chaos, and immediately leapt into action. Fortunately, they hadn't searched her too well in the confusion over the beacon, so her staff had remained with her.

Bolstered by the knowledge that there was likely a User among them, she fought hard, joined in by all the other prisoners on the ship.

The battle didn't last long before everything exploded.

Ark was flung out of the Recognizer and away from it, falling into the snow.

She wasn't out long, the cold stinging and bringing her back conscious, her circuits coming back online.

Using her staff to help, she pulled herself up and started looking around for any survivors.

She saw someone in the snow and started making her way towards them, using her staff as a walking stick while she still got her bearings.

[michelle-is-writing]

Sneaking in, Steve Harrington

Word count: 1.5k~

Sneaking into his girlfriend's room was nothing new for Steve. However, since they hit the one year mark in their relationship, Steve gained the key to (Y/n)'s shared house with her parents along with a cute anniversary card and kiss on the cheek. Still, there were some nights that he wanted to head over to her place without alerting (Y/n)'s parents to his presence by accidentally waking them up. So, instead of using the front door, he stacked chairs and tables against the wall beneath his girlfriend's bedroom window and climbed up.

Finding the window to be unlocked, Steve opened the panel of glass as quietly as he could before stepping in and lightly stumbling on a pair of stray shoes (Y/n) had lazily tossed across the room earlier. Instantly, Steve jerked his head toward her bed and sighed in relief upon seeing his girlfriend still asleep, her head nuzzled deep into her pillow as she lied on her side toward the window. Steve smiled at the sight, his heart beating for her and only her in that moment.

Walking toward her bed, Steve got onto his knees once he reached the side of her bed and leaned over to face her. "Hey, (Y/n)," He whispered, reaching up to brush a stray hair out of her face. His pajama pants rubbed against the harsh carpet floors of her bedroom as he rested his upper body against the top of her bed, leaning his head on his other hand as he gazed at his sleeping beauty. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Waking up from her sleep, (Y/n) immediately became startled at the dark silhouette in front of her, causing her to do the first thing that came to her mind: throw her fist forward at the dark shadow. Of course, Steve was lucky enough to throw himself back in response, but he wasn't fortunate enough to miss (Y/n)'s fist entirely. Instead of punching him in the cheek, her punch landed on his nose, earning a small crack as soon as her hand came into contact with Steve's face.

"Oh!" Steve groaned out in a mix of pain and surprise, covering the middle of his face with both of his hands as he landed on his bottom with a thud. Within a short second, (Y/n) recognized that pained groan and quickly reached over to turn her lamp on, the light from it brightening up her room through the vast darkness that took over it. Once her eyes landed on her boyfriend who was holding his nose in pain, (Y/n) gasped.

"Steve!" She shrieked, clambering out of her bed as her sheets tangled around her feet. Crawling toward him, (Y/n) fought him to remove his hands from his face before assessing the damage on his nose. To her horror, blood began seeping from his nostrils as the skin turned red and inflamed, no doubt about his nose and cheek area turning purple within the next hour.

"Why did you sneak in, honey?" (Y/n) asked him, her voice now filled with concern and worry rather than panic. Pushing his hair back, (Y/n) rested her hands on the sides of his face to make him stare at her. "Why didn't you just come through the front door? I gave you a key!"

At her flustered face, Steve smiled again. "You're so cute," He told her, causing her to roll her eyes, but blush nonetheless. "I didn't want to wake your parents up," He added on. "It's almost two in the morning, and I doubt they want me opening your loud front door with the old and noisy hinges."

"Which you still have to help my dad fix, by the way," (Y/n) reminded him, standing up with him following her.

"I know," Steve assured her, walking alongside her as they headed to her bathroom across the hall. "And don't worry - I will be the best son-in-law to your dad ever."

His words made (Y/n) shake her head and smile, the term 'son-in-law' making her heart beat ten times faster than usual. Steve alone already caused her heart to do that just by being near her, but with the idea of being married to Steve one day clouding her mind, (Y/n) could barely think about anything else at all.

"My parents aren't even home tonight, Steve," She reminded him, as she pulled the toilet seat lid down for him to sit on. "I told you that when you called about going on a date tomorrow morning for breakfast," (Y/n) added, pointing toward the toilet lid for him to sit down on. "So, again, why did you come through my window?"

With him seated and low enough for (Y/n) to clean off the blood around his nose and mouth, Steve realized what she was saying was the truth. He completely forgot what she was saying to him over the payphone speaker because he was too engrossed in his thoughts about giving her the gift he had gotten for her at the mall earlier. "Because coming through the window is much more... romantic?" He proposed, arching an eyebrow at her.

Pulling back from touching his now clean nose to feel if it's broken, (Y/n) stared down at him with pursed lips and a hand on her hip. "Is that your final answer?" She asked, unable to resist the smirk that rose to her lips in response to her boyfriend's goofiness.

Thankful his comment made her smile, Steve wrapped his arms around her hips and pulled her closer between his parted legs, his arms remaining firm in his hold around her. "I do have to say I'm a bit proud knowing my girl can take care of herself," He confessed, forgetting about his broken nose until (Y/n) touched it again, feeling the curve of the bone. He had broken his nose yet again, but thankfully, this time it wasn't because he was defending a group of twelve-year-olds.

"But, for the people who really need to get beat up," Steve tugs his girlfriend closer to him, effectively pushing his chest against her stomach and his chin on her chest. "That's my job," He adds, making her giggle and lightly slap his shoulder.

"Oh hush!" She said to him right before pushing his nose back in place, causing Steve to shut his eyes and go stiff in his movements as the numbing pain rushed through him. Holding her breath, (Y/n) didn't move either until Steve did a few seconds later, letting her release a thankful sigh.

"Thank you, baby," Steve told her, rising up from the toilet lid to once again stand a few inches taller than (Y/n). Still holding her tightly against him, the red-and-blue-faced boy smiled down at her as his eyes scanned over her gorgeous face. For having just woken up, she was utterly beautiful without anything covering her perfect face, and not to mention she was sexy as hell dressed in only his t-shirt and her panties.

Watching his eyes never leave her face, (Y/n) returned his bliss-filled stare with a giggle soon falling from her lips. "What?" She couldn't help but ask as he continued to gaze down upon her, his facial expression never changing in the slightest. Without answering her questions, Steve jerked (Y/n) up into his arms and carried her back into her room, her legs stuck around his waist the entire time.

"Oh, I don't know if we'll make it to breakfast tomorrow," Steve told her, gently tossing her down onto her messy bed before hovering over her and pressing his lips to hers in a passionate and heavy kiss. The meaning behind his seemingly innocent words made her let out a laugh without the worry of waking her parents. However, once her lips parted from his, she remembered something.

"Wait, wait, Steve, your nose!" (Y/n) reminded him, quickly trying to sit up to go and get a bag of frozen peas for him. "We need to put ice on it so it doesn't swell!"

Just as (Y/n) began to slide out from beneath Steve, he wrapped his arms around her once again and pulled her close, her back pressed up against his chest. "I need you more though," He simply muttered before attaching his lips to her neck and sucking on the skin, leaving purple spots there that would definitely match the area around his nose in the morning. Although (Y/n) wanted to try and reduce the swelling of his nose as much as she could, she couldn't help but lose that thought as other thoughts began arising to her minds while a warm hand began roaming underneath her shirt and over her soft skin.

The next morning, they did end up going to breakfast with (Y/n) wearing a turtleneck in the middle of summer and Steve smirking the entire time, trying his hardest to ignore the pain it caused his nose.

[ayamturd]

late│technoblade

summary: three times you said i love you, and the one time technoblade says it back

prompt: “I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to”

warnings: fluff and major angst, blood and death descriptions, dsmp spoilers

pairing: in-game romantic!technoblade

a/n: this is my entry for @burntcilantro​‘s 500 writing event!! much love and congratulatory to min, they’re an amazing writer and an even better person (they’re so nice, give them the support they deserve)

also i separated some of the dsmp events and spaced them out (so there’s more time between for plot purposes lol)

wc: (2.0k) - m.list

“Why are you so stupid?”

You were sat on top of a chest, holding one leg with your arms while the other was currently being wrapped by Technoblade. While you giggled at his insult, you winced once he tightened the gauze on your ankle with a glare. 

“It’s not funny, y/n.” He leaned down to bite off the rest of the wrapping, finishing the fold as you huffed at his seriousness.

“I told you to watch the house, not climb onto the roof and play a fun game of risk. What were you thinking?”

His stare was heavy and made you feel little as he looked down at you. The tone of the room changed as you lost the humor in the situation, his concern overpowered by the anger laced in his voice.

“I just wanted to help,” you stated, turning your face away, discouraged, with your arms crossed. “You’ve been getting the all the resources lately and haven’t let me even step off the damn property.”

Looking down, you fiddled with your fingers as to avoid his gaze. “I wanted to try and fix the wood panelings that have been leaking, that’s all.” 

The silence was harsh, and you swallowed deeply at how uncomfortably stiff the air became. Technoblade opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it shut with no words to voice.

With a shaky breath, you gripped the edge of the wood and slowly lowered yourself onto your foot; you didn’t plan on staying here just so he couldn’t say anything more. Technoblade was quick to steady his arms around you in case you fell, but you immediately pushed his hand away aggressively and stood with all your weight on your healthy foot.

Arms out to balance, as you tried to take the first step on your bad foot, you crumpled into your self with a yelp from the pain and collapsed. Ready as always, Techno caught you from behind and guided you to the nearest chair. 

You flinched from the small movement but sighed once sitting again. Techno crouched in front of you to check how you physically were, but your eyes were closed shut as you tried to collect your breathing. 

“Y/n,” Techno call out. Calming yourself down, you opened your eyes to meet his; he was much more sincere before, his face soft as he spoke gently to you. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Looking down, Technoblade paused as to gather his thoughts before explaining himself further. 

“I know I’ve been overbearing since the attempted execution,” you reached a hand towards his cheek when he mentioned the recent event, which he leaned into as he continued with closed eyes, “but please know it’s from a place of concern. I just- I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t let anything happen to you. I-I…”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You spoke for him as you pulled him into your chest, hugging his large frame as best as you could. He relaxed into your hold with a sigh of relief. 

“I love you, Techno.” You kissed the top of his head, and he only burrowed himself deeper into the hug.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

Technoblade was hunched over on the front lawn, hands on his head while trembling from the overwhelming pain of the voices. He whimpered at your words, indicating he heard you to some extent.

He had come home, alone, and fell to his knees at the sight of you when you opened the door. Immediately, you had rushed over to him and skid to your own knees to comfort him, but he grunted from your attempts to touch him; even when under the influence, he was still conscious enough to fear for your own safety relative to the blind rage of the voices. 

You had tried talking to him, attempted to get him to give you any context to what was causing his anger, which he answered with snarling growls in return. “Tommy… left… betrayed. Chose government.” 

While broken into murmured words, you understood instantly and tried to bring him back in spite needing to quench your own anger from Tommy’s departure. You rested your palms into the snow, lowering your head as much as possible to meet his bowed head. 

You peered up at him despite his own eyes screwed shut from the unbearable chaos that roared within his head, and called out to him as softly as you could. It was a stretch, but you hoped you could soothe him down by talking.

“Hey bubs, just listen to my voice, alright? You hear me now yes? You can understand what I’m saying?” Patiently waiting, you watched him closely until he gave the smallest nod, fists still pushed against his skull and twisting from the ache. 

“That’s good, that’s really good, love. You hear my voice, now listen to my words.” Slowly, you leaned close enough to whisper to him directly. 

“I’m here, okay? I’m so sorry about Tommy, I know how much you cared for him. I still care for him too, and I know it hurts right now, but rest assured I’m still here. I’m here Techno, and I’m never leaving you.”

With clenched teeth, he let out a sob at your declaration and pushed his head against you. You took his permission to touch him promptly, gripping him with as much strength as you could carry so he felt stable and secure. 

You squeezed him, desperate to ground him from slipping further, and rocked the both of you. He released a shuttered breath, and you kissed his skin gently.

“I love you, you know? I will always be here and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

He clutched you with his entire being, your words and presence more than he could ever ask and want. 

“Why do you have to be too reckless for your own good?”

You grinned widely at his words, smile almost sadistic as you glanced at him with your arms propped on the axe you carried above your shoulders. 

“What ever could you mean?” Despite the roll of his eyes, he did nothing to hide his own amusement to your eagerness to the upcoming destruction you were to bring. He chuckled, his deep laughter making you smile more softly to how genuine he was as you walked besides him. Hand raised to wave his rocket launcher, he focused ahead proud. 

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Turning to look at you again, you stared at him adoringly and smirked slightly while bashful to his confident manner. “We are indeed.”

It became relatively silent as you walked through the layered snow, feet crunching from your steady pace. You continued to take random glances at him, Technoblade doing the same until you both heard a loud groan. 

“My god, you two are insufferable, I can’t deal with this right now.” Dream sneered at you specifically, as if you were the cause for his own discomfort, and walked through you both.

“I’ll meet you guys there instead, but hurry.” Swiftly, he pulled out an ender pearl and threw it a few yards ahead towards the portal, his figure disappearing altogether. 

You stared in disbelief from his actions until a cough interrupted your thoughts once more. “You know what,” Phil avoided looking at you both, his hands tapping together awkwardly as he walked ahead as well but turned to address you while moving backwards. 

“I’ll see you guys there too, just, be sure to be quick?” You both nodded wordlessly, and he took his leave in fast haste. 

Standing there alone, you risked another glance at him and met his eyes, laughing loudly at the circumstances. 

Technoblade held a hand to his face, body shaking from his laughter while you were endlessly giggling, holding your stomach from the pain. Eventually, your fits faded with large smiles, and you faced him with a shake of your head. 

“I didn’t realize we’d be one of those couples.” Technoblade sighed, though you could tell it was for play, and nodded. “A shame really, I never thought this day would come.” 

You giggled again, and chose to move closer, tilting your head upwards at him with a sweet beam while leaning onto your axe. He gave you a small smile in return, however his faded immediately after. 

Lifting his open hand, he cupped your cheek and bent down to kiss your forehead, touching yours together after with his eyes closed. “Promise me you’ll be safe? I trust you to protect yourself, but for me, stay safe when things start to go bad?”

While you knew it was impossible to guarantee you’d stay away from the majority of the danger, you knew better than to leave his concern unanswered and open. 

“I promise,” you murmured, “for you, I promise.”

He pulled you against his chest this time, engulfing you completely and holding the back of your head earnestly to his heart. 

“I love you,” you voiced, your words muffled into his armor and coat. He hummed while looking ahead, his eyes trained on the glowing portal that called towards him. This was a war he refused to leave with mercy, the price of your peaceful lives together on the line. 

“No…”

There was too much blood. The thick liquid stained every surface and soaked through his coat that he pushed against your wound. 

Internally panicking from your tight expressions of discomfort, Technoblade desperately searched through his inventory for something, anything, that could heal or at the very least help you. He was forced to face the reality that he used all his potions during the midst of battle and combat. He couldn’t do anything. 

“Why, why why,” he snarled, his eyes clouding with an outset of tears he couldn’t care for. “Why are you so stupid.” His voice caught in his throat from his conflicted emotions and he tightened his hold on the fabric pushed against your stomach; the pain had faded at this point, and you were numb to the constant pressure he tried to hold. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I lied.” Your voice was light and strained, but Technoblade refused to accept the situation for what it was. He turned to a perched crow, screaming at it to get Phil and scaring it away with a slash of his sword, before tucking his head down in an almost silent plea. 

“Why do you have to be too reckless for your own good?” he whispered. Though he tried to be delicate, he couldn’t help how tight he held your hand. 

“I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to.” You gave a tired grin as your eyes began to droop, hand tightening on his, however incredibly weak in comparison. 

“I asked you to be safe,” he cried, body stricken with grief as he abandoned his hold on your stomach and instead shakily held your face, your own blood smearing against your skin from his callous fingers. “I needed you safe.”

You placed a hand over his, using all your strength to relish in his touch and kissing the inner of his palm. “Yet you needed my love more.” 

He choked out a sob from your admittance, and pulled you into his chest, your body limp, as he rocked you slightly. “I’ll always be there for you, and love you more than I could for my own safety.”

The ruins echoed the wails of a tormented heart on the broken landscape of a haunted battlefield that called for death and devastation. The smoke and clouds of destruction reigned above, and despite the final end to the corrupted nation that was built on nothing but lies and deceit after a helpless man’s death, Technoblade couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I love you,” he uttered, the words he struggled for oh so long to express finally free from its cage. “I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”

His words fell on deaf ears, and he screamed in agony at the truth that laid before him.

He was too late.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Cassian Andor X Reader: Rescue Mission

Stay on the ship.

That's what Cassian said just before he left, taking Jyn with him and leaving you to sulk in the hull. You would be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by it. Not only had he left you with K-2 he left you with literally nothing to do. K-2 hadn't been happy about it either. You could tell that from the moment Cassian hadn’t taken the blaster away from Jyn. You know, the girl that you shouldn't be trusting this quickly. The droid had started to complain but was stopped by Cassian's strong hand gesture of “zip it”. So now you had to hear K-2 rant about how absurd his owner had acted.

“He let her keep it. Give a blaster to the girl, what a grand idea. It's not like she could use it against you.”

Normally you would have laughed at his sarcastic quips, but you were not in the mood right now. You were still trying to understand why Cassian hadn't taken you. It wasn't like K-2 needed help to guard the ship, you'd even argue that due to him being a droid he was more capable than any of you at such a task.

It was possible that Cassian had thought it better to leave the ship with someone he trusted. After all, “killing” a droid would be a considerably easy task if you were really desperate, something you were sure people around here could be described as. And even though you were sure K-2 would have put up a fight, maybe even gotten a message to you and Cassian through the commlink, it might not be enough. By the time you and Cassian made it back he would already be dead, and your ship would be long gone. You looked up at the droid still muttering words of outrage.

You hadn't expected to like him so much.

When you had first seen K-2 you had been afraid. He was far larger than any other droid you had met, and he was fighting for the other side, or at least that's what he had been programmed to do. It wasn't until he saved you on a mission that you decided to trust him completely. He became a sort of family member to you and even though some would just consider him a hunk of metal the thought of losing him made your heart hurt.

You were sure Cassian felt the same about the droid, even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone. You could see it in the way he spoke to him, the way you would treat an annoying friend who you can't help but love.

“He wants to keep us safe.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you had even processed them completely. K-2 stopped speaking and turned to face you. The lights that made up his eyes met your own and you smiled up at him.

“I’m not saying that I think what he did was right. Far from it actually. I just think there is a good reason behind it.”

The droid just kept looking at you and even though his expression did not change you could almost imagen that he was smirking down at you.

“What is it?”

“You always defend him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what I said.”

You gave the droid an annoyed face.

“All I'm saying is that he loves you and doesn't want anyone to hurt you. That's probably why he went alone with her, because he thinks he can handle her by himself if he needs to.”

K-2 stared at you for a moment before turning back to the panel he had been messing with. You fiddled with your hands impatiently, repeating your words over in your head. Like that would make them true.

“You don't have to be jealous.”

You stopped moving your hands, your head rising from its prior position to rest on the wall behind you.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” you said, closing your eyes.

“He loves you too. Possibly more than he loves me.”

Even though you knew K-2 didn't mean it in the way you were thinking it you couldn’t help but blush.

“Don't say that.”

“Why not?”

“You'll just give me false hope K. And it's not like I need any more of that.” you muttered, opening your eyes.

The droid was about to respond when you heard a loud explosion coming from the town.

“So much from blending in.”

“Come on.” you said racing from your chair towards the weapons cabinet.

You grabbed a blaster for yourself and ran out of the ship.

“Where are you going?” K-2 questioned.

“I’m going to save our idiot. Are you coming?”

The droid stood at the door of the ship for a moment, before stepping out and closing the hatch behind him.

“Took you long enough.” you yelled at him before racing towards the town once more.

Even from far away you could hear the sound of blasters firing. You picked up the pace, heart hammering in your chest.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

You had barely made it to your destination when you saw him, blaster in one hand taking down troopers left and right. Even though the situation was less than ideal, just seeing him made you relax a little. It wasn't until you heard a shot pass near your ear that you realized you had just been standing there, in the middle of a fire zone. You sprang into action, shooting the enemies near you and clearing a path towards Cassian. He hadn’t seen you yet and maybe that was for the best. You didn't want to risk him losing focus.

Your eyes scanned the area looking from Jyn.

She had four troopers surrounding her but seemed to be handling it just fine. She was kicking their asses and you couldn’t help but grin. That's when you saw the fifth one coming from behind her. She wouldn't see him in time. You raised your blaster, took aim and fired, hitting the enemy in the head. Jyn’s head turned backwards at the sound of the body hitting the ground. Then her head shot your way, her eyes meeting yours and she nodded a silent “thanks” which you answered with your own small nod of “welcome”. The two of you raced towards Cassian, who upon seeing you gave a scowl.

“I thought I to-”

“Shut up Cassian!” you yelled, turning your back to him and shooting another trooper in the head.

When you turned back Jyn was smiling and Cassian had a shocked expression on his face. You looked around, searching for your next target. Just as you turned to the side you heard a blaster fire.

Your eyes went wide once you saw the KX-series droid fall to the ground, letting out a little squeak of pain as you looked down at the droid.

“Did you know that wasn't me?”

The familiar voice made you raise your head, small tears falling from your eyes as you realized that it hadn't been your droid Jyn had shot. You rushed towards him, arms wrapping around his waist, considering that was where you could reach. K-2 gave your head a small pet before you let go of him.

“What are you two doing here?” Cassian questioned, the annoyance clear in his tone.

K-2 stepped forward grabbing a grenade from one of the troopers and chucking it at the upcoming soldiers.

“There were a lot of explosions for two people blending in.”

You laughed at his comment, glad to not have lost either of your boys. Jyn was about to say something when you heard a voice coming from behind you.

“Where are you taking these prisoners?” A stormtrooper questioned.

You looked at Cassian, a confused expression on your face.

“These are prisoners.” K-2 responded

“Yes. Where are you taking them?”

“I am... taking them... to imprison them... in prison.”

You had to pinch yourself in the arm to hold back the grin that threatened to creep onto your face.

“He's taking us to…”

Cassian had tried to speak, in order to maintain this charade up and avoid exposure but it was met with a harsh slap to the face. Delivered by none other than K-2 himself.

“Quiet! And there's a fresh one if you mouth off again.”

If you hadn't been so shocked by what had just happened, you were sure you would have doubled over from the sheer force of your laughter. K-2 seemed to be enjoying his part in this whole act a bit too much. Then again you couldn't blame him. If you had been given the chance to slap Cassian in his pretty face without him being able to retaliate you would have taken it too.

For a moment it seemed to have worked but then the moment was gone and there were guards dragging you away from K-2. You had wanted to reach for him, fearing what would happen to him once they realized he had been reprogrammed.

You had just turned to look at Cassian when a voice spoke, loud enough to be heard over the troopers.

“Let them pass in peace” the stranger spoke, getting up from his position on the stairs and moving towards the troopers.

It took you only a second to realize he was blind.

You thought about yelling to him that it was okay and that you were handling it, but the thought dispersed when he began to move. The moment the troopers holding you fell to the ground Cassian grabbed your hand and pulled you to cover, Jyn and K-2 running alongside you two. You all watched in awe as the stranger took down one stormtrooper after another, seeming to rely purely on instinct. There were more troopers on the way, but they were quickly taken care of by another man. He relied on his weapon instead of instinct and it became apparent a moment later that the two strangers knew each other. The four of you stepped out of your hiding place. Cassian still held your hand and despite all that you had just gone through, the feeling of his hand on yours made your mind go blank. You tuned out everything for a moment just feeling the weight of Cassian's hand which, unlike the feeling of your restraints, was rather pleasant.

You missed the part where K-2 had unbound the three of you and made his way to the ship, upon Cassian order. It wasn't until you felt two pairs of hands pushing you down that you fully snapped out of your daze. You were surrounded again, not by troopers this time, but by what you believed to be soldiers of some kind. Jyn had tried to stop them, revealing the importance of who she was but it only seemed to make matters worse because now you had a sack over your head and where being dragged to Maker knows where.

“We really can't catch a break today.” You said to yourself.

They had put you all into a cell, except for Jyn who they had dragged to someplace else. You guessed it was to see Saw Gererra. The two strangers, who you had learned were called Chirrut and Baze, sat a bit farther away from the door. As for Cassian he stood so close to the door that you were sure that if, for some reason, it opened he would fall through the gap.

“Don’t worry she’ll be fine.” you assured

“What makes you think I'm worried about her?”

“Oh, I don't know. Just the way you’re practically trying to pry the door open with your teeth.”

“If you didn't notice we are stuck in a cell.” he gritted out.

You hated when he did that.

The way he would speak to you like you were an idiot. It made your blood boil.

“I’m not stupid Cassian.” you snapped back, clenching your fists at your side.

“I never said that.”

“Don't have to say it to believe it.” you murmured

“What's that even supposed to mean?” he questioned, turning to face you.

“You know what it means, Cassian.”

You were being a bit of a bitch and you knew it, but you couldn't help it. You were annoyed at the constant fighting you had done all day, your muscles hurt from carrying your blaster and if you were being honest, you were still angry at Cassian for not taking you with him. And now the patronizing comments had gotten your last nerve.

You knew he didn't mean them in that way, you knew he was just as tired and annoyed as you, but in your state of mind you didn't really care. Your mind kept going back to your memories of him, all of them glowing with the bright light that surrounded Cassian every time you saw him. The glow you couldn't get rid of no matter how hard you tried. That glow that made you want to be always with him, the one that made you worry every time that he left on a mission without you and that made your heart clench every time you saw him come back safely. That stupid light that made you want to kiss him and tell him you loved him. And of all the things that infernal glow brought with it, the one you hated the most was the fear that he didn't see you the same way. It surrounded you constantly and sometimes made you act like a complete fool.

“Don't worry lover boy, I'll leave you to it. Good luck rescuing your precious princess.” you sneered, turning to join the others on the further side of the cell.

You had barely turned around when a large hand warped around your wrist, pulling you back toward where you came from.

Before you could even blink your back was pressed up against the wall, Cassian’s arms caging you there. You knew he was strong, but it still surprised you just how strong he could be when he wanted to. Your eyes met his and the look on his face startled you. It was different from the ones you’ve received before. It was full of anger, but there was something else mixed in there. Something you could quite place.

“Cass what-”

“Just be quiet. Will you for once just…be quiet.” he pleaded, eyes staring straight through you.

Your hands were placed on his chest. It had been an automatic move the moment he caged you. They had been put there to ground yourself.

It wasn't really working because you could feel his breathing beneath your fingertips and that was very distracting.

“That stunt you pulled, leaving the ship and coming into town. I was so kriffing worried when I saw you and then... you told me to shut up? That… it… you never talk like that. You never give orders, never bite back like that. You just looked so serious. And I got it because that's exactly what I would have said if it had been the other way around. I would have told you to shut your mouth if I came to rescue you and you started complaining.”

He was talking fast. Like he was afraid that something would happen, and he wouldn't be able to finish what he wanted to say. You knew the feeling, so you stayed quiet and just let him talk to you.

“Because that's what you do right? You save my ass. That is your job. And you're damn good at it. I don't know what…. I don't…”

He took a deep breath, as if saying this next part physically pained him. You held your breath, fear bubbling in your stomach and threatening to spill over.

“I don't know what I would do if I lost you. I don't even want to think about it. But when I saw you there, in the middle of those troopers, it was all I could think about. You’re well...kriff...you're everything to me, okay? This life it's not great. Maker. I don't know if I can even call it good. But seeing you every day, hearing that stupid laugh you make when K says some sarcastic crap or seeing that smile you always have plastered on you face the moment I land on base. That right there, it makes me want to keep fighting. It gives me the strength to keep going because if there's a chance, no matter how slim, that we pull this off and get to actually live. No running, no constant fighting. Then I'm going to do everything I can to get that for you.”

Cassian's breathing is heavy against your own, his eyes full of fear.

You know that look. The look of someone who's been holding all their feelings in for far too long. There are tears in your eyes and your fingers are curling around the fabric of his jacket, trying to keep you from falling to the ground as you process everything that just happened. The bubble of fear and hesitation that has always been there, deep inside of you, seems to just pop. Leaving you to bask in the beautiful glow that is Cassian.

Your fingers move from his chest to his hair, pulling him down in desperation to kiss your lips. He lets out a sigh once your mouths make contact with each other. His hands move from the wall to your waist, holding you flush to his body as if he fears that if he doesn't hold on tight enough, you’ll disappear from his arms.

But that will never happen.

You part your lips, resting your forehead on his chest as he kisses your hair. Your hands make soothing motions on his back. He shifts slightly, cupping your face with his hands and forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I love you.” he whispers

“I love you too.” you mutter back

“How about we get out of here?” he questions, and you smile up at him.

“Sounds like a good start.”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[thebadbatch]

Thunder - Tech x Gn!Reader

Plot: Tech protects the reader from a storm that they're terrified of. 

Warnings: Thunder, fear, descriptions of anxiety and a panic attack. Fluff accompanies it!

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

One, two, three.

You were currently lounging aboard the Havoc Marauder, swinging in the co-pilot seat as Tech lay beside you fiddling beneath the control panel. These were the afternoons you were used to, some of the batch scattered around the ship whilst others went out for supplies. You and Tech currently remain on the ship, occasionally handing him the necessary tools to complete his job. 

"What's something you're scared of?" You aimlessly asked, spinning a little in the chair leaning back whilst occasionally gazing over in Tech's direction. 

"Scared of?" He responded, placing his hand out for the next tool he required. Once you placed it into his hand and he began to work again, he spoke. "I suppose in any circumstance I'd be afraid of losing my brothers and you." Smiling lightly at his answer you cuddled back up on the chair humming at his response. "Why do you ask?" 

"No reason, just a little bored and curious." He chuckled at your answer, finally completing his task and sitting up to face you. 

"Well I think this is the most entertaining activity but each to their own interests I suppose." He stood and brushed his hands against one another to brush any dust off of them. "May I return the question?" Nodding softly you began to think, 

"I get really scared of storms." He tilted his head, grabbing his datapad in his hands and returning to the seat before the main controls. "They're terrifying don't you think?" He shook his head, ensuring all the systems were online on the attack shuttle. 

"No, I don't think that." You mustered a simple 'ah' as his blunt answer responded. "Only because I was created on a planet with constant storms, I grew used to it and to find comfort in them." He took a gentle breath in, examining your expression. "But I understand why many may be afraid of them, they're sudden and can spark anxiety." 

Before you could reply, Hunter and Echo walked in with a crate of supplies, placing it down in the cockpit. 

"Here we go, everything we need." With a smile you got out of the chair, giving each of them a warm hug before opening it. 

"You boys go and relax, I've got this!" They nodded and both ruffled your hair as you carried the various supplies to their locations, sorting through them and finally reaching the fuel. Lifting it up, you turned to Tech who still remained seated in the pilot's chair. "Hey Tech? Should I fuel up now or keep it stored?" He moved to face your voice, gazing down at his data pad before moving to view the controls. 

"The Marauder could do with some fuel now, this will do nicely." He paused as he stood, walking over to you. "I'll help you fuel it." Nodding you soon followed after him, walking down the ramp and allowing your eyes to roll over the scenery. Darker clouds rolled over the sky, the various loads of nature shaking against the wind that began to kick up the dust against the floor. "Okay, here. Place the fuel against this and it should do it manually." With a soft nod, you did as instructed and allowed the fuel to roll into the ship, fuelling its systems for the next chaotic missions to come. 

"Thanks Tech!" You spoke as you removed the empty fuel canister with him shutting the area closed and checking his datapad with a satisfactory nod. 

"Not a problem, we should return to the ship and signal for the others to return - it's getting rather dark." Once he activated his comm system, he spoke into it signalling for Crosshair and Wrecker to return to the ship - none of the bad batch had a clue what could happen on this planet as this was the first time you had all stopped here for supplies. He gently gestured toward the ship, a soft smile against his lips. "Come, let's get in." You followed his instructions and returned into the ship with Tech closely behind you as you put away the crate that you all had used. Crosshair and Wrecker had soon followed, Wrecker being the first to greet everybody and picking you up into a hug which you always adored. He was always so warm and kind, something you definitely needed a lot of the time. You were known to be anxious, Tech knew the details of your anxiety but it never got into your way of missions which was good. But even if it did, Tech assured you he would always be there to help which in all honesty gave you a great amount of comfort. 

"Did you have fun?" You asked, exchanging stares with both Wrecker and Crosshair who walked into the cockpit after you. Wrecker laughed lightly and nodded, Crosshairs voice speaking instead of his own.

"Just some basic training while we can." He mumbled, offering you a gentle gaze before heading toward the bunks clearly already worn out. Wrecker ruffled your hair softly before moving in a similar direction, leaving you with Tech, Echo and Hunter. Yawning gently, you moved back toward the copilot seat and watched as the darkened clouds rolled overhead and covered what was left of the already darkening sky. 

"Do you think it'll rain?" You questioned nobody in particular, watching the darkness of the clouds thicken made your chest grow tighter as you spoke.

"Looks that way, it's probably a storm." Echo replied, fiddling with something before looking at your worried gaze. "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be fine." He offered you a small smile before gently pushing an overtired Hunter toward the bunks for some sleep. Tech ran his eyes over the system once again before ensuring that everything was off in preparation for whatever weather was about to occur.

"We better turn in for the night too then." His voice filled the empty air as he stood, beginning to walk to the bunks alongside you. "We will be collecting a mission tomorrow so ensure you get plenty of sleep, y/n." With a smile you arrived at your bunk and removed your armour so you were in your blacks with Tech doing the same.

"Alright, sweet dreams Tech!" Nodding gently he got into his bunk, switching off any lights that were left on via his datapad.

"Goodnight y/n." With that, the Havoc Marauder fell silent, everybody on board within a deep and calming slumber and everything was okay. Tomorrow would go just as you all planned it to go, simply and swiftly.

You were awakened suddenly by a loud boom and the ship violently shaking against the ground. Rain was hitting against the ship heavily and the room lit up when a clash of lightning filled the sky. The first impression you had in your half- awake state was that you were under attack, but as soon as you heard the rumble of thunder and clash of lightning accompanied with the heavy rain your suspicions were confirmed. It was a storm and you were absolutely terrified. Taking in a sharp breath, you hid beneath the covers that give you nightly comfort and protection from whatever your anxiety mustered up. Tears automatically welled in your eyes and your breathing seemed to escape you leaving your chest feeling tight as you gasped for air. 

"Hey, is everything okay?" The blanket was softly removed from your face revealing Tech stood beside your bunk. Upon seeing your terrified self, he crouched down and sat you up so you could lean against him whilst he rubbed your back. "Breathe, Mesh'la." His gentle words helped ground you, but the louder rumble of the thunder reversed whatever good he did. "Breathe with me." His instructions were simple and clear, but everything felt like it was too much to face. He took a deep breath in which you were able to replicate though jaggedly and exhale. You both repeated these slow motions until you were finally in control of your own breathing again but the crying didn't subside. Ever so gently, Tech picked you up and held you in his arms with your blanket still wrapped around you. He had brought you both into the cockpit, sitting you upon his lap and hugging you closely as you both watched the storm unfold before you. Streaks of white lit up the  sky along with the rain hammering against the window, dripping down to make various smudged patterns of mist.

"It's loud." You whispered against him softly, his hand gently rubbing your cheek in an act of comfort. His gaze was filled with softness when his eyes met your own, face filled with concern.

"I know cyar'ika, I know…" Tech's voice continued to soothe you but it didn't prevent you from jumping slightly in fear again as another bang filled the sky with thunder. "One, two, three." You watched as he counted, another bang following the numbers. Softly moving your eyes to gaze at him, you gently held onto his blacks as he continued. "One, two, three, four, five…" Another followed which made you gasp lightly, but his hand against your back soothed you almost immediately.

"W-what are you counting?" Your voice asked, hiding against him whilst gazing out of the window before you both. You watched a smile form against his face as his hand continued to rub soft circles against your back.

"You can count the storm to see how far away it is or how near." He paused for a moment allowing the rain to fill the new silence, "It's getting further away see?" Nodding softly you clung to your blanket and watched as the sky lit up, the fear from earlier growing less and less as time went by. "... Five, six, seven." Another clap of thunder was heard, but further away now - the ship no longer shaking whenever the clouds clashed among each other. A smile soon crept onto your face as you watched feeling safe within Tech's arms, the storm no longer causing your chest to tighten in fear. Yawning again you cuddled back up to Tech who happily held you into his arms, the rain starting to soothe you asleep again with your eyes fluttering shut.

"One, two, three..." You whispered, no thunder following it which made both of you smile. Tech drew in a gentle breath as you both watched the trees before the ship wave against the harsh wind.

"Sleep, Mesh'la - I will protect you." A soft hum from you was all it took to allow sleep to overtake your mind and body, Tech holding you and protecting you from the storm outside. Everything was alright, things were safe now.

Once morning had arrived, the storm had long gone as the sunshine took its place. The rest of the batch had wandered in and couldn't help but melt at the sight of you both huddled together in your blanket with Tech's protective hold of you. Opening your eyes you meet Techs awake and gentle ones, a sleepy smile soon on your face.

"Thank you for last night, you really helped me." His fingertips brushed some stray hairs away from your eyes, a chuckle leaving his lips.

"I love helping you, it wasn't a bother." You paused in thought for a brief moment before speaking,

"You remembered I don't like storms?" He nodded with a light smile as he gazed before him,

"Of course I did, I realized the storm coming may have affected your anxiety and I couldn't just leave you alone."  He grinned as he faced you, "But it shouldn't be such a shock that I listened to you - I always listen to my Mesh'la." Standing, you moved to kiss his cheeks in thanks.

"Sure you do, Teccie." You couldn't help but laugh as he stood with you trying to defend himself before you spoke again, "I'm just teasing, you always listen to me - thank you." He smiled at your response as you both cleaned up the blankets to prepare for the day you all had ahead. Everything would run smoothly especially after such a lovely nights rest.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) The Awkward Chronicles

(Author’s Note:  Here is some wild Bad Batch content for you.  I’m still not entirely sure why I did this, but I was sitting here laughing and blushing at this madness.  I’m one of those people who gets embarrassed so easily, so this fic was a ride for me.

-We all have ideas on what it’d be like to live and fight with the Bad Batch.  These are some short examples of the less glamorous things that can happen when you dwell with five males on a tiny ship-

Warnings:  Some awkward situations, embarrassment, some crude humor, potty humor)

Link to The Sequel

   You were walking down the hall, minding your own business, when it happened.  The lights went out.  As a matter of fact, it seemed that power in the entire ship was down.  You were left stranded in the pitch black, feeling around for the wall for only a few seconds before a low hum sounded and the emergency lights came on.

   The hall was cast in an eerie red light.

   “Tech!” Hunter’s growl made you jump.  That’s when you remembered; the last time you’d seen the Sergeant was when he excused himself to the refresher to take a shower.  A loud bang sounded on the door just a few feet away from you.  “Tech, what’s going on?”

   Before you could respond, the door slid open, and a very disgruntled Hunter emerged. It was quite a sight.  His long hair was damp and full of suds, some of which was falling into his eyes, and he wore a towel around his waist.  He was trying to blink the soap from his eyes, and he must not have seen you there because he marched straight into you.

   You yelped, hands shooting up instinctively to try and cushion the blow.  They landed on his broad chest, and you shrunk away awkwardly.  The dampness of his skin and the proximity was enough to make your face flare up.  Embarrassment quickly took its toll.  You were glad that the emergency lights were dim.

   “__________?” Hunter asked in disbelief, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes.  His grumpy demeanor was replaced with surprise.

   “Um, yeah, it’s me,” you replied.  “Sorry.”

   “I’m the one who ran into you,” he said in amusement.  He was right, but something about the situation just made you feel like you should apologize.  Maybe it was the way you were trying so very hard to meet his eyes and not let your attention wander.  

   Funny enough, Hunter didn’t seem at all bothered by the situation.  He continued to stand there unabashedly, eyes flickering past you.   “Where’s Tech?  Do you know what’s going on?”

   “He was making repairs in the cockpit,” you said. 

  “Would’ve been nice if he at least waited until no one was using the shower,” he mumbled.

   “Yeah, very true.  Here, I’ll just…”  You glanced at the floor, biting your lip.  “I’ll, um, tell him to hurry up with the power.”

   “Thanks,” Hunter nodded.  He gathered up his damp hair which had started to drip more suds down his shoulder, and turned to head back into the refresher.  You spun around and hurried toward the cockpit, ready to face-palm.

   That image won’t stay burned into your mind or anything.  Nope.

- - - -

   You glared at the empty roll.  It sat there tauntingly as your brain desperately thought of options to solve your current predicament.

   If you really wanted to, you could pull your bottoms up just enough to shimmy out of the refresher and grab a new roll of toilet paper in the supply closet.  It was a small ship, though, so there were a few things that could make the plan go awry.  Someone could easily walk by and witness the unfortunate situation.  Or worse, someone could be waiting for you to exit the refresher and slip in after you walk out the door.

   Your best bet would be to see if someone could bring you a roll.  Wrecker was the most ideal choice.  He was likely the one who left you with an empty roll in the first place, and he was the most relaxed of the group about things like that.  Not to mention you’d rescued him from the same situation a few times already.  You could count on him cracking a joke and then just moving on.

   Speaking of which, you heard his heavy footsteps going down the hall right then.  Relief washed over you as you grinned and gave the refresher door a knock.  “Wrecker!  Can I ask a favor?”

   “Sorry, ________!  I’m moving something for Hunter,” he grunted.  “Crosshair’s here though!  He can help you out.”

   Your smile faded.

   Crosshair was not a bad guy, but to say that you weren’t exactly eager to ask him to get you toilet paper was an understatement.  How could you bring yourself to ask the man and have him know your awkward situation?

  “What do you need?” Crosshair’s smooth voice was muffled through the refresher door.  You took a deep breath as you decided to take the plunge.

  “I, uh, I need someone to grab toilet paper from the closet.”

  It was dead silent on the other end for a minute, and you were inwardly cringing.  Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest, and your face practically burned with shame.

   “Isn’t there any under the sink?”

   “Already checked,” you said.  “Someone forgot to restock it.”

   “That would be Wrecker.”  He sighed in annoyance.  “Give me a minute.”  It felt like forever before you heard him knock on the door again.  “I’m...I’m just going to leave it here.”

   “Thanks,” you called through the door.

   His footsteps faded away, and you cracked the door open just enough to snatch up the roll.

   In hindsight, Crosshair had been pretty cool about the whole thing.  You weren’t sure what to expect, but your wildest imagination had envisioned his tone being laced with disgust, or at the very least irritation toward you.  Or maybe a snide comment.  Even so, it didn’t do much to derail the embarrassment that had set in when you joined the others in the cockpit.  You had a hard time looking Crosshair’s way for a while.

- - - - 

   Where could they be?  You rested your hands on your hips, frustrated.  You had searched every inch of your bunk for your boots to no avail.  Hunter and Wrecker were waiting for you outside the ship to join them for a supply run.  The only thing you could think of was that perhaps during the last crash-landing, they slid up to the front.

  With a sigh, you typed up a quick message to Tech on your holopad.  He was already up there working on one of the panels: maybe he could check.

   Three dots appeared on the screen, which meant he was typing up a response.  Then, they disappeared.  They reappeared once more.  Confused, you were about to head up to the cockpit anyway before a ping sounded on your device, alerting you of his response.

   I take it you were asking about your boots.  If that’s the case, then yes, they’re here up front.

   Your brows furrowed.  “What…?  I did ask about boots.  What does he think I wrote?”   You scrolled up to see your original message, covering your mouth in shock.

   It read: Tech, have you seen my booty?

   You quickly typed up a response.  Oh my gosh.  Yes, I meant to say boots.

   That explained his hesitant reply before.  Your face heated up at the thought of the brainiac reading your typo and short-circuiting for a moment, being unsure of how to go about it.  You choked back a laugh on your way up front to fetch your boots.

   Tech was kneeling down beside the panel when you arrived.  

   “Heyy,” you greeted.  He paused his work to lift his helmet.  There was a hint of amusement in his gaze, and you could see the way he was fighting a smile.

   “Hello, ________.”

   “About earlier,” you grimaced.

   He finally cracked a smile, chuckling.  “No worries.  These things tend to happen.  I set your boots over there.”  He nodded in the direction of the co-pilot seat.  Face flushed, you grabbed your boots off the chair and pulled them on before heading out to join Hunter and Wrecker.

- - - -

   “Alright,” Hunter shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Who was that?”

   Everyone in the cockpit exchanged looks, some accusatory.  Under normal circumstances, you’d think the whole thing was childish.  But for someone with Hunter’s abilities, you sort of understood why every time someone passed gas, it became a game of “who did it?”

   It was almost always Wrecker.  Sometimes he’d admit it proudly, and other times he’d try and deny it.  This time, it seemed, he was out for blood.

   “It was __________,” he said.  “I heard it.”

   All eyes turned to you, including Hunter’s vexed expression.  You glared at the largest Bad Batcher with your heart thumping in embarrassment.  “Was not!”

   The corner of his mouth twitched.  A hint of a smile, though he quickly hid it.  “Come on, _________.  It’s bad enough that you disturbed Hunter’s ‘advanced senses.’”  He quoted the phrase that he’d heard Tech throw around before.  “But don’t try and cover it up.”

   “It wasn’t me.”  You replied in disbelief.  Turning to Hunter, your eyes took on a more pleading look.  “You’ve got to believe me.”

   “You’re being awfully defensive,” Echo noted.

   “Yeah, awfully defensive,” Wrecker repeated, nodding furiously.  “Own up, ________.  That one was really bad.”

   You sighed.  “This is silly.  It wasn’t me, and you know it.”

   “Maybe it was,” Crosshair shrugged.  “And maybe it wasn’t.”

   “Either way,” Hunter interrupted, shooting each of you a look.  “I’ll ask all of you one more time.  Try and hold off until we land, so I can leave.”

   The cockpit fell into silence once more, and you turned around to take a seat in one of the passenger chairs, brooding over the situation.  Wrecker shot you a cheeky grin, and you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that crept its way onto your features at his childishness.

- - - -

   “__________, could you fetch me another wrench?” Tech asked, grunting as he pulled out a few wires from the opening in the wall.  “I’m going to need it in a minute.”

   Your eyes caught something shiny on the tool kit he had laid out on the floor of the cockpit.  Kneeling down to pick it up, you shrugged.  “You mean like this?”  Tech glanced your way and shook his head.

   “A smaller one.”

   “Oh alright,” you sighed.  “Be right back.”  You moseyed your way out of the cockpit, taking your time because it was a slow day and there was no rush.  It was unusual for the ship to be so quiet.  That was most likely because Wrecker wasn’t on board.  He went with Hunter and Crosshair to see the planet a little.

   On your way back to the rest of Tech’s tools, you saw Echo making his way up front.

   “How go the repairs?” he asked.

   “Pretty good,” you said with a nod.  Both of you had paused to converse for a moment in the hall. “I’m grabbing some more tools for Tech.  Apparently the toolkit he brought up front doesn’t have the wrench he needs.”

   Echo chuckled.  “Well, good luck to you.  I’ve got my own repairs to make, or else I’d help.”

   “Well, thanks anyway.”  You smiled.

   “__________!” Tech called.  “If I am to proceed, I will need that wrench.”

   “One second!” you called back.  Shrugging, you mumbled, “duty calls.”  Echo and you both stepped aside so the other could pass by first.  A few chuckles floated into the air, and before you knew it both of you were taking a step forward at the same time.

   “Wow, okay, I’m sorry,” you said, feeling a little shy at the awkward close proximity.  Both of you sidestepped, bringing your chests together again.  Echo fidgeted a little with the contact.  Heat flooded your cheeks at how you were so close you nearly kissed.  Your friend rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.  

   “Ah, sorry,” he mumbled.  “Why don’t you just go ahead?”  This time, he managed to take a step back and over against the wall, lighthearted laughter leaving his lips as you walked past.

   “Sorry,” you told him again over your shoulder.  As you walked away, you felt that familiar twinge of embarrassment.  Poor Echo looked somewhere between amused and a little embarrassed himself.  You were a little relieved to hear another laugh from him down the hall.

[wandsandwheezes]

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely​ and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’ 

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush  into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.” 

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference. 

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother. 

So why was that feeling still there? 

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in. 

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George. 

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear. 

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs. 

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes. 

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?” 

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.” 

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George. 

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.” 

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.” 

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.” 

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty. 

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck. 

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half. 

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him. 

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride. 

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother. 

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?” 

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong? 

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal. 

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused. 

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor. 

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband. 

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?” 

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around. 

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet. 

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this. 

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist. 

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?” 

— 

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees. 

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car. 

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.” 

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.” 

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands. 

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat. 

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this. 

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him. 

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly. 

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her. 

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye. 

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again. 

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him. 

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt. 

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there. 

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away. 

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more. 

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.” 

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.” 

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle. 

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit. 

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you. 

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin. 

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone. 

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could. 

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident. 

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?” 

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin. 

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary. 

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling. 

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.” 

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.” 

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?” 

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N //  so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley​

[imagineabrighterworld]

{Four Hundred Thousand Yen} Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Tamaki had a lot of questions in life, but the list was reordered the moment he was chosen for the date auction of 3-A.

Why me?

Why was my name in the bid?

Why did no one look surprised?

Was this rigged?

His last question was answered fairly quickly, the class did in fact rig the polls. It was a tie between him and Mirio, but after some convincing from Mirio and Nejire, the class had filled the ballot box almost entirely with Tamaki’s name.

“Why would you do this to me?” He mumbles into his desk as he bowed his head to keep from seeing his traitorous best friend. Mirio was standing next to his desk with a huge smile on his face. Tamaki couldn't see it, but he could hear it in his friend’s voice.

“It’ll be fun! Don't sweat it, you're gonna be great!”

“I-I can't even- go on stage..” Tamaki lifts his head to show his lips were trembling as he was on the verge of a breakdown. The thought of being on stage for people to bid on- what if no one wanted him? What if it was just silence and he wasn't picked at all? How embarrassing would it be when he left the stage without a single bid? “What if no one picks me? I-I would be humiliated.”

Mirio pats him on the back. “Trust me, there are plenty of girls and guys waiting to bid on you, I did a poll!”

Tamaki’s face burns red. “You what?” He squeaks out.

“Well not an official poll, but I asked around the school and everyone was pretty excited to hear you might be in the auction.” Mirio rubs his chin. “I’d say you had a good seventy percent of the students I asked.”

The wheels in Tamaki’s mind stutter as he focuses on the thirty percent that must have said no. He groans and stands up from his seat. “I'm going to the workshop..”

“3-H?” Mirio asks.

“Yeah..” Tamaki slides out of the classroom with his head ducked low. His face was still a bright pink when he entered the third year’s workshop. It was enormous compared to the first year’s space. It had gear and tech that the first years were not yet trusted with.

He walks around the empty room, looking at the half built suits and the observation window that separated the testing room from the rest of the space. It was a special glass that was essentially bomb-proof, nothing could break the glass, which made it essential for testing costumes that needed to undergo massive damage.

“Tamaki!”

He turns around to find you dragging a massive robot by a thick metal chain. You were covered in scuff marks and grease, but you had a light in your eyes that made him smile. His thoughts were briefly distracted by the date auction and instead directed towards you. You were one of his friends since his second year when he needed an update in his costume. He still got shy around you, but talking with you became easier the more he visited you.

It was a small miracle that you didn't mind his silent days. You both would listen to your radio while you worked. You didn't push him, and it was greatly appreciated. Sometimes he needed a break and you were there to take it with him.

“Whatcha doing here Tama-chan?” You release your grip of the chain, unbothered by the loud boom as the heavy chain falls to the ground. It was startling sometimes to remember that your quirk was strength based. You lifted gear so easily, it looked weightless to him. “Got a problem on your mind? You look like a shrimp.” You brush your gloved hand over his flushed cheek.

Tamaki rubs his face while looking to the ground. “Iwasvotedinforthedatingauction..” He whispers quickly.

“What was that?” You tilt your head. “You lost me at I.”

He takes a deep breath and speaks a tad bit louder. “I.. Was voted in for the dating auction..”

“Oh. … Oh.”

You both stand in silence, listening to the ticking of the clock in the room.

You're the first to break the quiet. “Mirio was behind it wasn't he?”

“And Nejire.” He adds softly. His best friends other than you, both ratted him out. They knew he had trouble with the spotlight, with his.. His self image.. He couldn't do it. “I think I'm going to call in sick. Mirio is more popular than me anyway, he’ll definitely get bids.”

“I think you should do it.”

He startles. “What?”

You smile down at him. With your work boots you were a good few inches taller than him. “You're really sweet Tama-chan, you're underestimating yourself again.” You tap him on the forehead. “Think of this as a mission. The goal is to get to the finish line. Don't think about how much you earn, think of getting to the end of the auction.”

“But I can't handle crowds-”

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Tamaki.”

He looks you in the eyes, his heartbeat racing as he sees your normally nonchalant expression turn serious.

“You're Suneater, an amazing hero that always gets the job done. This is just another job. And you're going to rock it.”

He gulps.

Just a job. Not a game, not an auction, just a job. Another mission that needed finishing.

He nods his head reluctantly. “Okay.”

“Good.” You pull him in for a side hug, completely forgetting you were covered in grease. “Now help me figure out what the hell I'm doing.”

-

The day of the auction was hectic. It was a festival, which meant that the class was divided into doing different jobs, a sixth went to preparing the auction with the other classes while the rest went on to handle food stands and games.

Mirio was in charge of the money earned during the bids while Nejire was the announcer.

Which left Tamaki alone behind the stage with the other “volunteers”. Some of the students actually did want to participate, but he could see from some of the faces that some where plucked forcefully by their classmates.

At least I’m not the only one. He thinks to himself.

He mourns quietly as the students file in line. The first to go were the first years, then the second, then the third years. Which meant he was the first of his year to go onstage.

So far the highest bid was for Todoroki of 1-A who got fifty-one thousand yen.

I'll be lucky if I get one hundred yen.

Tamaki fiddles with the cuffs of his suit. It was black with gold sun cufflinks. If it were a different occasion, he would have liked the suit. It was comfortable and completely black, allowing him to blend in rather than stand out. But in this situation he would have no choice but to stand out.

He squeezes his eyes shut as he hears his name called out.

“Next up, Tamaki Amajiki from Class 3-A!” Nejire cheers from beyond the stage.

With a small pat on his shoulder from the boy  behind him, Tamaki steps through the curtain and walks on stage.

Faces. So many faces.

The crowd was bigger than he thought, it was full of people-

“Remember, keep your head up, eyes to the sky, it'll be over before you know it. Trust me.”

Your words ring in his head as he walks down the catwalk, his eyes on a distant tree as he tries to keep from folding over in shame as numbers are called out.

Ten thousand yen. Thirteen thousand yen. Fifteen thousand yen. Thirty thousand yen.

He stops at the end of the stage and keeps his hands clenched at his sides. He felt like he was going to collapse-

“Two-hundred thousand yen!” A familiar voice chimes from the crowd of people.

Tamaki’s gaze snaps to Nejire who had floated off the stage and was staring at Mirio with a look of wonder. Who- What? What! Who would bid that much!

No it had to be a mistake!

“Four-hundred thousand yen!” It was the same person. “You're twisting my arm here Nejire!”

Tamaki scans the crowd for the voice.

No, it has to be a joke-!

You stand in the center of the crowd with one of the bidding panels in your hand. You were grinning widely. “Neji, I could go on forever, just give him to me.”

The crowd parts around you as they whisper the number incredulously.

Four-hundred thousand yen.

Tamaki didn't even expect to get a percent of that!

Nejire lands on the stage with a small thump. Her smile was nearly identical to yours. “Any other bidders? Going once. Going twice?” The crowd was talking but no new bid came up. “Tamaki Amajiki, sold for four-hundred thousand yen!”

-  

After the auction, Tamaki finds you with Mirio, a thick stack of yen in hand.

He runs to you. “Wait!”

You look back at him just as Mirio tucks the cash into the metal box full of bids. “Yeah?”

He stands across from you, frazzled and in desperate need of a good cry. He almost ran off stage just to keep from collapsing in fear.

“How could you- why did you-” He stumbles over his words. “Why did you bid on me? Why so much?”

You smile as you zip your wallet shut. “That’s easy Tama-chan. I knew you wouldn't feel comfortable going on a date with a stranger, so I paid an amount I knew no one would be able to beat.”

“But, it's your money..” He squeezes his hands into fists. “You can't just waste it on me, I’m not worth that much..”

You step away from Mirio and stand in front of Tamaki, fixing his crooked tie from running. “I'm an engineer. I know how much each part costs and the cost of the overall product. You're worth more than I could ever buy Tama-chan.” You press a small kiss on the tip of his nose. “And I couldn’t pass up the chance of getting dinner with you in that suit.”

Finally, Tamaki collapses in a fit of pink.

You look at Mirio.

He laughs. “He's all yours!”

His plan went just as expected.

[creativeashproductions]

What's a Knife Between Onscreen Family // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Filming an emotionally wrought scene on the set of your current role as a regular goes very wrong very fast. Expecting the scene to be the most taxing of the day you find yourself in the ER getting a transfusion. It’s all fun and games until someone’s holding a sharp knife incorrectly, guess it’s just something in common with co-star Jared Padalecki.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fear, injuries, hospital, needles, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.5k (including lyrics)

A/N: I watched a part of a panel from a Supernatural con and found it hilarious that Jensen accidently stabbed Jared. So I had to write that for a Charlie Gillespie fic. Link to the video talking about the stabbing is right below this message.

Jensen Ackles Accidentally Stabbed Jared Padalecki during filming From 1:00-6:00

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

It had to be one of the most emotionally taxing scenes in your entire career as an actress on a physically demanding show. The scene had been incredibly mentally draining the daughter of a Winchester. It had been once season recurring, one series regular and now filming the third season. As the teenage Winchester, it threw a wrench in all the plans and the reckless character gave no shits.

“Okay, this is our last scene for the day!” Robert Singer, the director of his episode, called out from off stage. Standing at the top of the stairs in the Bunker, you jumped in close with a scrunched nose at the squishy sound.

Over the railing, both Jared and Jensen nodded their support from the ground level with concerned expressions. Ever since you joined the cast in season 13, they had become fathers to you. The sight of you drenched in stage blood was enough to churn their stomachs.

“I gave you the barebones of the scene so work with it. Briar’s traumatized after fighting for her life and has been gone for a while.” Robert explained, “Cas couldn’t find her. I want this to be a tribute like Dean in season 10 episode 14: The Executioner’s Song.”

Taking a deep breath in your emotions channelled into a hurricane in your chest, clenching your fingers on the knife.

“Action!”

Pacing the floor plan of the Bunker is two brothers bonded by sorrow, pain, sacrifice and love. Each throwing out locations on where Briar could be, Jack and Cas had been little help. Sam’s heart clenched tight bypassing images straight to torture. The kind of torture he had endured over the years.

Dean’s mouth opened to suggest another place when the Bunker door creaked open. The red converse appeared before the soggy jeans as the teen slowly made her way down the steps. Briar Winchester shook like a leaf staring off in the distance as the blood congealed on her face and hands.

“Briar.” Dean slowly spoke, moving towards the girl. His green eyes lit up in fury as the seventeen-year-old flinched back. Dean’s hand gently took the stained knife from the young girl.

“I-I didn’t mean to do it.” The meek voice appeared so unlike the usual confidence Briar talked with. In exhaustion, Briar’s knees collapsed, sending the teen right into Dean’s arms.

The stoic man gripped the youngest Winchester as his waist bearing her weight against his while Sam circled to be behind Dean. The choked sob echoed by another escaped the family huddle; one from Briar and the other from Dean.

“Dad.” Briar choked clenching her arms around the green-eyed adult’s shoulders, craving the safety of her father.

Ever since Dean could remember he had had a strict rule of always practising safe sex, he didn’t want a kid. Not in a world that had it out for Winchesters and not one where he might hold his child’s dead body in his arms. That all changed when Cas delivered Dean to a county jail where Briar was held just for a minor assault charge on a wealthy bully.

Dean never let himself want a future with the picket fence and the dog in the backyard but when Briar changed that. Dean would do anything for his family no matter the cost. Example: Selling his soul for Sam.

“Sh.” Dean spoke kissing the crown of her hair he savoured having his child safe in his arms, “I’ll help you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. We’ll heat some soup and toast.”

On autopilot, Dean helped Briar down the hall to the bathroom where she would freshen up and later burn the unsalvageable clothing. As Dean returned to Sam’s side, Castiel came with a sombre expression and an explanation.

“Dean. Sam.” Cas greeted them, flicking his blue gaze between the two brothers. The faint sound of the shower only picked up by the trained heightened sense of hearing from years of watching over their backs.

“Cas what the hell happened?” Dean demanded, “Why the hell is my little girl bruised and coated in blood?”

END FILMING SCENE

“Cut!” Robert called out to the large room with a big smile on his face, “I’ll watch it back. See if we need more takes.”

Jared and Jensen wiped the tears that fell from their cheeks just thinking on how wrought that scene felt. As fathers seeing a young adult in such a state severely agonized them. The duo jogged to see your back against the cold wall—a pinched expression marring your young face.

“How are you feeling after that?” Jensen asked, coming closer to squeeze your shoulders unfazed by the sticky fake blood. It was already all over his clothes from hugging you in character.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to have sharp objects.” You spoke glancing down at your knee that had been punctured by the knife. The dark jeans soaked in stage blood now concealed the real blood.

 “Jensen, did you really stab another person.” Jared deadpanned his best friend referencing back a few years. Jared shoved one hand through his hair, receiving a nasty glare from the hairstylist on call.

The glare on Jensen’s face blistered the taller actor, “I didn’t stab you. You walked into the knife.”

The two bickered as they guided you back to the main stage where Robert had reached a final verdict. He had watched the replay twice along with his crew finding the raw emotion to be perfect. The little detail the three had added was well played. Dean unexpectedly consoling his daughter in tears; no threats to kill or push her to tell him what happened. The first time Briar referring to Dean as her father. Lastly, Sam’s unsure actions in consoling a young girl sucked into life like he was in his youth.

“We got a one-take winner!” Robert called out sending the entire crowd into loud applause and cheers. Jared taking most of your weight as you hobbled to the costume trailer.

The lovely costume designers helped remove the sticky shirt, jewellery and the red converse that had once been white. Only the jeans remained on your body to not mess with the wound. As much as you’d love to shower the blood off, it was near impossible, moving your knee stung and it was best to avoid aggravating it.

“Someone needs to ban Jensen from knives. Just wait till his wife finds out about this, she adores Y/N.” Martha chuckled from her sketches she designed on her breaks for a future in fashion design. Often in your free time, you would be her guinea pig with her designs using refurbished material.

Normally the banter would continue but not when your leg was bleeding, and Jared was taking you to the ER. To make time faster, Jared had scooped you into his arms to the black car their driver waited in.

“Towels are in place. Sorry, you got hurt, Kid.” Clif spoke, opening the door to the backseat where Jensen sat patiently. Unlike usual, he had seated himself in the front so you could stretch in the back.

A weak chuckle met air in the packed car from the blood loss that wasn’t overly bad but enough that Jared took the towel. His pressure on the wound caused a yelp that had Jensen flinching in guilt.

“The knife must have been sharp to cut a mouse in half,” Clif muttered turning towards the hospital close to set. Coincidently the drive took you passed the set your boyfriend currently filmed at.

“Might as well call me butter.” You retorted wincing at the throbbing pain, “You aren’t allowed any more sharp objects, Mr. Ackles.”

“Danneel already threatened to hide all the knives in the house.” The on-screen father laughed as the tension decreased in the small car. Despite the dizziness, it didn’t hide the guilt in Jensen’s green eyes.

Time flew by as you found yourself in a bed for observation and pictures for the knee. It came as a shock when the doctor requested one blood transfusion for the blood loss. The hope of being in and out had evaporated like water beads on a blistering summer day.

Julie and the Phantoms Set

Charlie adored his life as an actor where he was free to visit places, he might not have had the opportunity to do. He made friends with everyone he spoke to and even met the love of his life as an actor as well.

That being said today had been the longest one with a full schedule and barely time for lunch or snacks. Even a nap was unachievable, and he desperately wanted one for being awake for hours by now.

“Charlie! Did you know you’ve got missed calls?” Jeremy inquired, staring at the phone that went black once more. Charlie’s eyebrows came together at the mention. His family had the rough outline of times he would be unavailable to talk.

Stepping back from the craft table’s supper options, he lifted the phone from the table, bringing it to life. His lock screen showing multiple missed calls and voicemails from you, his family and two unknown numbers.

His jaw dropped further when Meghan called for the first time out of the group, “Megs?”

“Finally! Where have you been?” Meghan demanded pacing in the studio she had been using when she got the call. The pretty and successful young woman had gotten terrified at learning about Y/N.

“Filming? It’s the longest day of filming the show. It’s on the family schedule.” Charlie spoke, settling into one of the empty tables. His eyes watching the people entering and exiting the tent set up for food.

“Jesus. Mom called me when you didn’t pick up. Y/N’s in the hospital.” Meghan revealed sending the Canadian actor into a stiff posture. His hazel eyes blow wide and panic flooding his entire system.

“What?!” Charlie didn’t mean to shout nor turn paler than a piece of white paper, but it happened. The volume contracting looks from everyone in the vicinity. Owen even dropped the donut back in the box by the volume.

“She got stabbed with a knife. I sent the address earlier, and I haven’t gotten a lot of info.” Meghan told her older brother, “I know she’s getting a blood transfusion, but nothing else was released.”

Charlie couldn’t tell you what happened between Meghan telling him and reaching the hospital frantically. Nor could he figure out how Owen was in the back of the Uber with him guiding him through exercises; all thanks to Owen’s therapist for his anxiety.

His sneakers squeaked on the polished white floor in his mission to the receptionist transferring information from a chart to digital. Charlie’s painting brought him attention from the kind nurse acknowledging his presence.

“Just let me finish this one sentence.” The nurse hummed saving the information before turning their full attention to the frazzled male, “How can I help you?”

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in? She was stabbed and needed a transfusion.” Charlie demanded deflating as Owen placed a hand on his shoulder. The Canadian’s eyes bright with panic and a deep fear

The nurse’s eyes softened, “I can’t give out information on patients unless your immediate family members.”

“I’m here-“

“Husband! He’s her husband, they eloped so she hasn’t changed her last name or updated her information.” Owen blurted out, rubbing the pad of his index finger on the black jeans he had worn for his role. The two hadn’t even bothered changing into their street clothing.

The nurse nodded their head-turning back to the computer to enter the name for the patient for the information. It took seconds before the nurse wrote on the miscellaneous sticky note of the ward and room number.

“My name is Riley. If you need any help, you can come back here, and I’ll do my best to give you answers.” Nurse Riley informed the duo with a kind smile nodding in the direction of your hospital room.

Owen’s long legs ate up the distance Charlie made in his sprint to the stairwell, “Shouldn’t we take the elevator?”

“My girlfriend is in a hospital bed. I can’t wait for an elevator.” Charlie rebuked the suggestion on the second flight. Owen’s sigh was the last sound made as the duo slammed into the door to the floor level.

Charlie and Owen appeared in the doorway of your hospital room panting from the exertion meeting the gaze of two actors. Charlie’s heart stuttered at the sight of the high volume of blood in your clothing and your hair.

The sharp gasp brought your attention to the shaking Canadian actor solely focused on scanning for wounds. His eyes barely staying on the two adult males you had been starring with for a few years. Schedule conflicts often led to no introduction to each other’s co-stars.

“What the hell?” Charlie choked stumbling to the chair beside your hospital bed next to the pole holding a blood bag, “Did you get mugged? Are you okay?”

“Char, take a breath, man.” Owen’s blue eyes shadowed with the worry as Charlie’s breathing shuddered. Owen could barely look at you covered in blood.

“Whoa! Charlie. I’m fine. This is stage blood. We had an intense scene, and there was a minor accident.” Your voice soothed the man gently taking Charlie’s hand to comfort him, “I lost a bit of blood. The doctor decided to give me a blood transfusion to bring my levels back up a bit before stitching it up.”

“How do you get stabbed accidently?” Owen questioned glancing at the two men standing silently in the corner. Due to contracts on the Supernatural set details of scenes and storylines was off-limits.

“Well, during filming, I took a knife from her, and she walked into the blade?” Jensen trailed off, shoving his elbow into Jared’s side at the scoff. It happened every time it was brought up.

“I-“Charlie blinked, shaking his head as he took a deep sigh in pushing that to the back burner to focus solely on you. His hand rubbed his face while he settled on squeezing your one hand in both of his.

The touch of your skin grounding him back to earth with the shattering visions of walking into the world without you. It would be both ways, the second his calloused warm skin brushed your hands; it was like the pain faded. Only a sense of content settled in your weary bones.

“Okay Miss Y/L/N.” Dr. Clancy walked into the room only halting to grab a pair of medical gloves, “I see your entourage grew. I’m Doctor Jim Clancy, and you must be Miss Y/L/N’s husband.”

Three pairs of eyes widened at the doctor’s words aimed towards the brunette actor turning a blushing mess. The words mouthed by Charlie to go with it gave barely any insight, but you did it. The moment you had a free minute with Charlie, you would interrogate him in the new title you had.

“Yeah, my husband.” You spoke flicking an expression to Jensen and Jared that caught on from the years together. They had taken you under their wing on your first day on set, and then you became family with their immediate family.

“I can confirm that my initial observation is that the wound doesn’t have anything that shouldn’t be in there. We stopped the bleeding, the x-ray came clean, we’ll set you up with IV fluid, and tetanus shot to be safe.”

“Nurse Gellar here will cut the rest of the jeans off, get you in a gown for a few hours of observation. Just a precaution for blood transfusions. We’ll have some scrubs you can wear when you can leave.” Dr. Clancy motioned to the tall redhead with a quiet demeanour.

Charlie’s lips lingered on your temple at the fear that flared in your expressive eyes, he would give anything to take your place. He softly sang your couple song as a whimper fell from your lips as the jean tugged the dried blood from the wound. The painful pressure felt as you guessed it had started to bleed again, the feel of liquid rolling down your skin, confirming it.

“I’ll sing anything.” Charlie whispered going through his mental catalogue of songs on your shared playlist, “Oh!”

I’m booking myself a one-way flight

 I gotta see the color in your eyes

 And telling myself I’m gonna be alright

 Without you baby is a waste of time

The tears falling no longer came from the pain but the sheer amount of love you had for the man there. Eyes glittering with pure adoration as his voice came off absolutely heart-melting. So, lost in each other neither of you noticed Owen had been filming from the moment Charlie had said ‘oh’.

Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed

 It got washed away in a summer rain

 You can’t undo a fall like this

 ’Cause love don’t know what distance is

 Yeah, I know it’s crazy

Charlie’s hand slowly slid up your arms to cup your tear-streaked tacky cheeks in his warm grip. The hospital faded as it became just you and Charlie. Completely oblivious at the audience in the room.

“He loves her,” Jensen whispered to Jared out of the camera frame that the blonde-haired kid’s phone. It was such a pure moment it felt disrespectful to see this exchange but also honoured to see it firsthand.

“I’ve only seen the look in your eyes for Danneel,” Jared replied, cupping his hands over his face listening to the near inaudible wet chuckle you gave.

“As I have between you and Gen. They have the real kind of love.” 

But I don’t want “good”, and I don’t want “good enough.”

 I want “can’t sleep, can’t breathe without your love”

 Front porch and one more kiss, it doesn’t make sense to anybody else

“Charlie.” You sobbed at the best part of your life serenading you in such a romantic moment at the odd setting—his hazel gaze greener in what would come to be a very dear memory to reminisce about.

The calloused thumb caressing your cheek wiping a teardrop away he continued to see as the doctor finished suturing the wound. 

Nothing mattered other than the couple currently in a bubble.

Who cares if you’re all I think about,

 I’ve searched the world and I know now,

 It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind.

 Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy

 Are you with me baby? Let’s be crazy

Charlie’s voice faded with the rest of the song bringing you back to reality with the nurse cleaning up around the wound. That’s how the rest of the day went on waiting for the blood transfusion and IV fluids to finish. You stuffed the tetanus shot while Charlie sang between different genres.

“Thank you.” You softly spoke with Charlie being the only one left in the room with you.

Owen had headed back to their set to finish a scene while giving the updates on you while Jared and Jensen grabbed food. J2 had been very clear they would get Martha to grab some clothing for when they came back. Jensen was determined to deliver you to your home as the first action to make it up to you.

“For what?” Charlie questioned as your index and thumb picked at the cuticles of the opposite hand. Your eyes were hidden from your boyfriend’s gaze.

“For dropping everything to be here.” The words were quiet in the room only filled with breathing and the heart machine you had to be hooked up to.

“My girl-“

“Don’t you mean wife?” You teased brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead taking in the man you had the honor of loving. Of waking up next to in the apartment, you’d been renting ever since you landed the role on Supernatural; overtime Charlie’s things had just accumulated there.

“It was the only way they’d let me in.” Charlie spoke sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, “It’s a little early to call you, but I’m excited to make you my last girlfriend and then my only wife.”

The chuckle fell from your lips, “So, you want to marry me?”

“In front of all our family and friends. Tucked away from the media to celebrate the love we have for each other.” Charlie spoke, “There’s no one else I’d like by my side for the rest of my life.”

A new flood of tears welled at the sincerity in his voice and the warmth laden in his eyes of kaleidoscope colours. Sometimes, depending on his emotion or his clothing, his eyes would be greener, or when he was happy, they had a blue tinge in the green in sadness or your favourite; brown with the swirls of green.

“How did I get so lucky to have the absolute honour to fall in love with you?” Your words created a swell of emotion in the Canadian’s heart.

“The same way whatever deities there are took pity on a boy from Dieppe by bringing him an angel.” Charlie words preceded the kiss on your lips with a grin as you chased his lips after. With one last peck, he leaned back with a fond expression.

“Seriously how do you get stabbed accidently?” Charlie chortled with that gorgeous smile lighting up the room more than the white lights.

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[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 22 - Sci Fi

New part is here! Just a few more in this world. Just realized that it's been about 1 year since I've started this story. Wow.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

____________________________

The school was greatly relieved to hear that I had made a Connection and was no longer a danger to myself and others. They immediately rescinded my suspension and "encouraged" me to resume training with my new partner as soon as possible. I found the quick 180 amusing, but didn't argue.

It took multiple video calls with Alaira’s father to reassure him that everything was okay, and a few more to prevent him from throwing a parade for Liam to thank him for matching his daughter. His tears of joy at the news was a complicated moment for me.

I had felt a deep sense of joy, but it was an emotion that didn’t belong to me... it belonged to Alaira. Watching him celebrate his daughter’s recovery felt hypocritical, knowing that in the world that I hadn’t taken over, his daughter hadn’t had a good end. She had died alone and afraid, her mind fragmented.

But there was no way to tell him that.

The mission completion status on my communication device had risen quickly from 1% to 42%. Liam and I spent every waking moment together, talking, joking, and learning about each other. We practiced making the connection with the Mech, powering and controlling it now a smooth, painless process. It was natural, coming as easily to me as breathing. Working with him felt less like learning with a new partner as gaining back a missing part of me.

I was happy.

But not everyone was glad to hear we had matched.

Shortly after our match was made public, Liam and I were walking down the hallway after class, and were forced to stop by a young, angry woman blocking our path.

“It’s a lie!” Princess Ilene glared at Liam as she faced us down. “William can’t be a real Connector! He’s always been just a useless waste. He's a stain on the royal family!”

Liam seemed unfazed by his sister’s cruel words, as if he were used to it. The lack of reaction and the implications behind it made me even angrier. I stepped forward, hiding him partly behind me, and smiled pleasantly. My expression and pleasant tone obviously confused the princess, who took a step back.

“Ilene, Ilene, there’s just so much wrong with what you said… I don’t even know where to begin!” I shrugged. “ But, correcting idiocy IS my calling in life, so let me give it a shot:”

Ilene’s face was red with rage, but I ignored her incoherent sputtering, holding up a finger.

“First, Liam is capable of making the connection. He just had a strong barrier. Obviously it isn't impossible, or he and I wouldn’t be matched. “ I held up a second finger. “Secondly, and more importantly: even if he COULDN’T make the connection, he still wouldn’t be useless. He’s a kind, wonderful person, and that’s more than you can say about most Guardians or Connectors… present company included.”

“ How dare…” Princess Ilene took a step back. “What are you trying to say?”

I blinked, shocked “Oh, was I not being obvious enough? I don’t like you. I think Liam is a much better human being than you, and find it pitiful that you try to derive your self worth from putting him down.”

Liam stepped forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s ok…”

“No, its not. You don’t deserve for people to call you trash.” I felt emotional, as if something deep inside me was trying to break free.

“It’s always been like this.” He shrugged, “I’m used to being alone.”

____________________________

“Friends, family?”

The man in front of me was smiling at my question, but the expression was so sad it made me want to cry.

“None.” He twisted his hands in his lap, looking away. “I’m supposed to be alone.”

“Why?”

“Supposedly that’s my fate.”

____________________________

“You are not trash.” I tightened my grip on Liam’s hand. “ and you’re not alone anymore.”

“I know.” He smiled, “Thanks.”

Princess Ilene spoke up, obviously tired of being ignored. “How dare you trample on Chris’s kindness and reject him for this tr…” She started to say the word “trash” but seeing my face, nervously trailed off and started again. “You don’t even know if you two have a high enough resonance match to ward off your mental degradation…!”

“We do. It’s gone.”

She paused, thrown by my matter of fact tone. “… But what if you’re a higher match with Chris…”

“Don’t care. I hate him.”

“… But…”

“You do bring up a good point, though.” I turned to Liam. “We should see what our resonance match rate is.”

He looked nervous. “What if it isn’t very high?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re already partners. I’m just curious.” I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s really high, and I’d love to use that to shut people up.”

He chuckled at that. “If it means that much to you to rub it into people’s faces...”

“It does.”

We walked towards the match center, leaving Princess Ilene stunned into silence behind.

____________________________

Liam got more anxious the closer we got to the match center. “You promise you won’t break our partnership if our match score is low?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” I didn’t feel insulted at his questioning. I could feel his insecurity, the need for me to say out loud what he thought he knew. “Low or high, we’re partners. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” He sighed, grinning. “I like being stuck with you.”

Finally, we were facing the machine that had failed us both so many times. Irrationally, I felt a little nervous, the many prior failures of the past few weeks too fresh and painful to completely forget.

Liam stepped away from me, reaching out and placed his hands on the panel first.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

I rubbed my forehead tiredly as the robotic rejection echoed loudly around the room; “I forgot your barrier is still around since it doesn’t effect me anymore.”

“Honestly, I had forgotten too.” He responded with a happy smile.

A crowd was starting to gather, curious at our actions. As more and more people realized what we were doing, I began hearing the whispering between them.

“Didn’t she go crazy?”

“...thought she couldn’t match?”

“He has a barrier? ...never could match.”

“I heard they already formed a connection.”

“Heard her dad is a general, spread the rumor of her matching so she wouldn’t get kicked out.”

“Isn’t she matched up with Chris?”

“Why are they here?”

I grabbed Liam’s hand again, feeling relieved when I felt his warm skin against my own. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He stared straight at me, ignoring the hostile words and gazes of the crowd. “You’re beside me, and that’s all that matters.”

I squeezed his hand in my own. A strong desire welled up within me to be worthy of the trust he gave me. I wanted to show everyone what Liam could do, the bond we had... but of course it couldn't be too easy.

“We just have to figure out how to get your barrier down enough for the machine to read you." I glanced down at my hand that was still holding his. "I mean, I’m touching you now, right? There’s no barrier between us?”

He stared down at our clasped hands, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yes, I feel you. I mean, no, there’s no barrier.”

“Good!" I gestured to the pad with my free hand. "Then why don't you try again while we're still touching each other?”

He placed his hand back on the machine.

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The machine's voice repeated itself calmly.

His hand fell away, frustrated. I could feel his anxiety, and worried deep down that I had made a wrong choice. I did this to reassure him that we are a good match. To shut up everyone saying that it's a made up story to justify the removal of my suspension. To prove to everyone that Liam isn't useless, even by their own stupid standards.

But none of this will happen if he can't use the machine.

I thought it over, and grinned as I came up with a plan. “Hmm… Well, there’s one other thing we can try…”

I leaned in and kissed him, grabbing his free hand with my own and placing it on the pad together. His breath caught in his chest and he froze in shock very briefly before kissing back. In that moment I almost forgot why I had kissed him in the first place, but the robotic voice quickly reminded me.

“Resonance match detected…. Scanning…. Resonance Frequency Match...100%.”

The voice had barely faded before there were shouts of shock from the crowd. The room descended into chaos at the announcement. I broke away from Liam, who was still distracted, and stared at him.

“Did that machine just say… we are a 100 PERCENT match? I didn’t even think that was possible!”

Liam blinked. “I’m sorry, I dinwhat did you say?”

“We’re a perfect match, Liam.” I laughed. “I knew this was a great idea!”

Definitely didn't completely doubt the plan halfway through... yep.

“So… no one can separate us then?” His body relaxed, and he reached out, pulling me against himself and hugging me tightly. I felt the trembling of his muscles and knew that the anxiety he had shown was only the tip of the iceberg. His true fears and insecurities were still well hidden, even from me.

I hugged him back, waiting for him to back away. The crowd’s murmuring were now a loud roar, as everyone discussed a match rate that most thought impossible to achieve. And there, in the back of the crowd, I saw a solitary figure standing there, watching us with a blank stare.

Chris.

I shuddered, holding Liam tighter. The first thing I had done when Liam and I announced our match was to report to the authorities Chris holding me in his room. I suspected him of drugging me as well, remembering the prick of the needle before falling unconscious.

I was laughed at.

“Why would a student with a crystal clear reputation go out of his way to kidnap a general’s daughter? He already had a match, a better one than his resonance with you if I recall. If anyone had motive to kidnap someone, it would be you to him!”

The words were cutting, made worse by the pity on their faces.

“It’s obvious: your mind was breaking down due to the strain without a Connector, and came up with this fantastical plot of being kidnapped.”

And despite my objections, the claim was dropped. I hadn’t seen Chris since the day we parted in his room.

Until now.

His gaze held mine. He was expressionless, watching us with a detached, almost clinical air. I would have almost thought he was bored, or at least uncaring about the situation in front of him… if not for his eyes…

His eyes were burning with rage.

I looked away first feeling an odd sense of familiarity, as if something similar had happened before.

____________________________

A few days later Liam and I had our first mock battle. Suspended together in the Connection chamber within the Mech, the constant physical and mental connection with Liam made operating the Mech much easier than it ever had been alone.

I fought with a sword, having abandoned the dual guns completely. I breathed a sigh of relief at the speed I could move at as I ducked under the enemy Mech’s attack. Turning with the spin of my dodge, I used the momentum and I swung around to slash the torso of our opponent with the sword.

“Nice hit!” Liam’s voice in my headset was excited. He was cheering me on along the way, spurring me to show off with more complex moves when possible, hoping to impress him.

I pressed the attack, slamming the Mech with the shoulder of ours, and kicking it to the ground before it could recover its balance. The movements were smooth, and my head was clear of any pain. The prior drain and discomfort of controlling the giant robot was completely gone.

As our opponent fell to the ground, I pressed the tip of the sword into the Mech’s neck. The referee called out our victory, and the crowd around the arena cheered, but it was just noise to me. All that mattered was Liam’s excited babbling in my ear.

“That was awesome! I’ve always wondered what it felt like to win a Mech fight, and it’s so much cooler than I ever imagined! This is great! When can we fight again?”

“Glad you had fun, Liam.” I laughed at the innocent delight in his voice. After the stress and pain I had experienced since waking up in this world, the uncertainty of who I was and why I was here, there was something simple and healing about being by Liam’s side.

I feel happy.

I was nervous about admitting it, even to myself, as if the simple acknowledgement of the positive emotion would be enough to destroy it. But I couldn’t deny it. I WAS happy.

After we had undocked and changed, Liam and I relaxed in the fighter’s lounge. Liam as always, had a container that he pulled out of a bag, opening it to reveal a slice of cake. I took it from him with a murmur of thanks, and after the first bite sighed with joy.

“I've been meaning to ask you: Where do you get this cake? It's obviously not from the school shop, it’s way too good!”

Liam smiled at the question. “I made it myself.” Usually more quiet and shy, he seemed very confident when it came to matters such as food. The change in his attitude was something I loved to see.

“Really? You made it? This is too delicious… if only I could have this all the time.” I took another bite, savoring it. As I swallowed, I looked up at him and joked. "Yep, I think the only solution would be for me to just marry you.”

“…” There was a strange silence in the room. I ate some more cake, unconcerned at first, but as the awkward stillness stretched on I paused in my actions, turning towards Liam again with a questioning look.

His face was bright red, and he stared at me with a look of shock and joy.

“Liam?”

He nodded, and blushing more, pulled out his communication device, dialing a number.

“Who are you calling…?”

Alaira’s father, General Gladus showed up on the holographic projection from his device. He stared at Liam, confused for a moment, before barking out with a frown. “Who is this?”

Liam sat up straight, staring at the man with a solemn expression. “General Gladus, my name is William. I am the third born of the Royal family, and a first year student at the academy, and a Level S Connector.”

General Gladus grinned. “I know who you are, son. You’re the wonderful young man who matched with my daughter. I’ve been wanting to talk with you and thank you…”

“Your daughter has asked me to marry her and I have agreed.”

“What?”

“What?”

My father and I asked in unison.

“I was very happy to receive your daughter’s offer of marriage. I will do my very best to support her in all her endeavors.”

“She proposed?”

I silently mouthed an echoing question as my father burst out loudly. “I proposed?”

Liam nodded. “I wanted to let you know so that you could arrange for military leave and be present for our wedding. I know the paperwork can take weeks to months. ”

“…” General Gladus looked stunned. Slowly, his hologram turned towed me. “Alaira, is this true?”

"Yeah, military leave paperwork is notoriously slow..."

He interrupted. "No I mean about the engagement!"

I glanced over at Liam’s excited face.

____________________________

“I don’t believe it’s real.” He whispered, staring down at our hands that were clasped together. “I thought that I was always going to be alone. I thought my fate… my role… ”

I fiddled with the silver band in my hand, trying it on his finger. “Screw fate. We’re getting married now.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, the smile lighting up his face, making the whole room brighter. “Screw fate. I’m your husband!”

____________________________

I shrugged. “What can I say? We’re a destined couple.” I briefly explained about our 100% resonance match.

“… Did you say 100% match?” At my nod, General Gladus opened up his arms. “Welcome to family! When's the wedding?”

After a few more minutes of discussion, Liam hung up, still looking happy.

“Should we notify your parents?”

His face froze. When his gaze finally rose to met mine I shrunk back from the dull look I saw there.

“No reason to.” He reached out, tucking back my hair. “A family without love is just blood related acquaintances. You’re my real family, wife.”

I hugged him again. “That’s right. I’m your family.” I hadn’t really meant to propose… it was just a joke. But the second he called me wife, my heart had felt a sense of recognition. It was happy, but also hurt, a deep remembered pain. A panicked feeling rose up within me, as fear, despair and sadness came in waves, before leaving quickly, overwhelming me without warning or reason. I desperately wanted to remember something, to tear open the fog clouding my brain and peer at what was hidden behind it. But I couldn't.

You must accept your fate. A metallic voice rang in my head, cold, dispassionate, filled with undeniable.

“No.” I whispered, tears filling my eyes even if I wasn’t sure why they were there.

Liam noticed my distress. “Alaira?”

“I'm fine." I think we should go back to practice.” I pulled him to his feet. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

“You’re right, let’s continue working hard so we can save the world like you wanted. But on our next break, we have a wedding to plan!” For the first time, Liam was more excited than me to get to practice. He grabbed my hand and raced forward.

____________________________

Later that night, I went back to my dorm room, still thinking over my last conversation with Liam. He was energetically talking about wedding plans, making lists and drawings with the hologram on his communicator, storing them in special file with my name on it.

When I asked him why he was so excited, he paused, staring down at his hands. “Have you ever felt a desire that was so strong, it seemed to be beyond anything you’ve experienced before?” He glanced up. “I feel this, Alaira. Deep in my soul. I want to be by your side. I want to marry you, but even if you didn’t want that, I’d be your minion or your sidekick. Being by you… helping you… it’s such an integral part of myself, I couldn’t separate from it if I tried.”

“Liam…”

“I think I believe in reincarnation and soul mates.” He smiled. “I’m so happy right now that I think this has to be a hallucination, it can’t be real.”

“I don’t believe it’s real.” I felt the memory of the young man’s whisper in my head again, and pushing it back, I leaned forward to kiss Liam gently.

“It’s real.”

Now alone in my room, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered by the connection with Liam, the emotions and memories that accompanied every moment with him.

“Who am I?” I leaned against the wall and whispered to myself.

“That is the question isn’t it?”

At the unexpected answer I straightened up, falling into a defensive stance. Recognizing the intruder did not make relax, however. If anything it made me more tense.

“Chris. What are you doing here?” I kept my voice calm, trying to hide my inner tension.

“I’m getting tired, Bel.” He sat down on my bed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just… so tired of all this.”

“What did you call me?” The name resonated with me, much more than “Alaira” ever had.

He ignored me. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to give up right away. It promised me…”

The room fell into silence. I stood as still as a statue, barely daring to breathe. I was desperate to hear more, terrified to let him continue speaking. Chris’s voice was different, his tone filled with years of regret. His eyes when they stared at me, seemed to look right through me, as if seeing through my skin to something deeper and more profound.

“Why can’t you just accept your fate, Bel?” He sighed, the sound seeming to drag on too long. “Everything depends on it.”

“What do you…?”

“The lower realms you treasure… the friends you’ve made… even…” He hesitated. “Even his existence depends on everyone having their role and playing their part.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Chris.”

“MY NAME ISN’T CHRIS!” He yelled, the sound startling in the otherwise silent room. “Just like yours isn’t Alaira. Just like his… it wasn’t supposed to be…”

“Liam?”

”THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HIS NAME!” Chris, or whoever he was, stood up, his face red with rage. “He corrupted it! He refused his role, and ended up tricking you to do the same.” He stepped closer. “Why do you always force me to be the one who has to carry the weight of the realms on my shoulders? Why does he get to be the only one who is happy? I don’t want to play these games anymore, Bel.”

“I’m not playing games!” I shouted back, frustrated. “I don’t remember anything!”

“And you won’t. Not until it’s over. But it will be soon. Because I’m going to end it.” He walked towards the door, preparing to leave, only stopping when I grabbed his arm.

“No. You aren’t leaving until you explain what you meant.”

His eyes lit up briefly at our contact, and I pulled my hand away quickly. “You made a bet, Bel, and these are rules you can’t escape. All it takes is one failed mission. One failure before you can finish the task of piecing together your soul.”

“Piecing together…?” His words struck a chord within me, but I shook my head. “I may not understand anything going on, but I’ll tell you this: I won’t fail my mission.”

The light is his eyes dimmed. “You started this. Just remember that, when you regret everything. You. Started. This.”

He left through room, slamming the door behind him. I stood in place, staring blankly, my mind racing.

Realms, real names, missions and bets… I don’t understand any of it.

But I knew one thing, as certainly as if it were imprinted on my soul.

I would not accept my fate.

Even if I couldn’t remember what that fate was.

Even if I had to destroy fate itself to escape it.