#i wanna get COOKED not stay raw forever
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hivepixels · 4 months ago
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hs twitter is also a lot younger so its funnier seeing these teens joining in, its like that gif of the guy arriving to a dumpster fire except the room is now dark and moldy and dusty and only has like two old people in teh corner going "hey remember when..." back and forth
the bright side is making content with new memes. caliborn would call himself a sigma male
HCKJC I SUPPOSE IT IS FUNNY TO SEE HOW THE CHARACTERS HOLD UP IN MODERN INTERNET CULTURE
also these kiddos are super creatively skilled too it's crazy impressive to see them juggling between different specialized programs
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purple-babygirl · 3 years ago
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Bestie bestie, thoughts- daddy! Bucky and little reader cooking together is making my heart melt fr💖 ugh! Like imagine her getting him like a chef hat 🥺 one of those white floppy ones 😭😭 or like they both get matching aprons. Ugh.
Pairing: Chubby!Pâtissier!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 1,404
Warnings: ddlg dynamics, it's all fluff.
A/N: I don't know what you did but i was looking up matching aprons after i saw your ask and boom 💥 pastry chef Bucky thots 💥 attacked me and for that I thank you:"💜💜💜 So here we are. I'm sorry if I took too long and made you feel like I was ignoring your ask, I definitely wasn't💜💜💜 It was just really cute it got my mind going so thank you so very much🥺💜💜 Please enjoy xx.
Pie credit.
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heavenly sweet
“Daddy.” She turned around, giving Bucky her back, and he could only smile bigger when he saw the way she was bouncing on her ankles in excitement.
Bucky bow-tied her apron for her, lightly patting her back, “there you go, lil chef,” before pawing at her sides until she giggled.
“Thank you, daddy.” She beamed, letting Bucky help her up on the kitchen counter.
It was a special day for her today. She and Daddy were wearing their matching aprons for the first time, and Bucky was showing her how to make one of her favourites, blueberry pie.
Bucky didn’t get the chance to tell her yet, but the matching aprons gesture had him even crazier in love with her. The way she closely watched his reaction as he'd opened his gift and the way she was over the moon when he’d showed his content with it would forever be engraved in his mind next to all of the other precious memories starring her beautiful eyes.
“Okay, so we have our flour over there,” Bucky pointed to the half-full bag, “eggs and butter too,” he checked, walking closer to her, “and my sugar right here.” Bucky planted his hands on the counter, trapping her between them as he dropped his head to kiss, kitten-lick, and nibble on her jaw.
“Dada!” She squeal-giggled, her hands on Bucky’s round belly as he stood over her.
“Look at you, bonbon! You look like a real chef already! You doing the baking today? Hmm?” Bucky joked, peppering kisses on her face, his hands holding her waist.
“No, jus’ helping daddy,” she giggled more, hiding her face in Bucky’s chest, making him chuckle.
“The best help daddy could get, bonbon.” He kissed the top of her head with a satisfied smile.
~
There was nothing she loved more than watching Daddy work. With his hair pulled back into a small bun, his apron around his full torso, different smudges covering it, and his forearms having the littlest smear of flour on them, Bucky looked like art to her. The way he went about everything he was doing to make her feel included and the way he stole kiss after kiss from her when she was focused. Not to forget how sweet his kisses always were. It was all so perfect. She cherished every moment she got to spend with him, each one better than the last as Daddy made her the best treats that ever existed.
“Now, what do we do, bonbon?” Bucky quizzed playfully, wiping a hand down his apron so he could put the hair that escaped the bun back behind his ear.
“We put in our blueberries!” She replied, her hands eagerly reaching for the bowl of macerated fruit.
“Oh my god,” Bucky looked at her, faking shock and shaking his head.
“Did I say something wrong, daddy?” her voice went small so fast, immediately searching her mind, trying to remember if something went in before the berries.
“I might wanna slow down with teaching you or else next thing I know you’ll be taking over daddy’s bakery, bonbon!” Bucky chuckled, teasingly pecking her cheek.
She laughed with him when he tapped her nose, internally sighing in relief.
He was such a charmer and she was head over heels for him, “’m so proud of you, bonbon.” Bucky kissed her forehead.
“Daddy, can I put them in?” she patted her eyelashes, her hands in place on Bucky’s tummy and he couldn’t help but peck her lips.
“You sure can, lil chef," he said and she grinned at the name he'd started to use, wanting to earn it.
“Here, lemme help you, baby.” Bucky smiled, taking the bowl and holding it for her while she used a spatula to scoop the contents out and into their pie pan.
She was so happy they were doing this together. She was always at her most peaceful state of mind when Bucky would take her to the kitchen with him. Watching him work so passionately was her little self’s own version of bliss. Bucky had the softest aura about him. He was the kindest, most beautiful and most loving Daddy she could’ve ever dreamed of having, and her little heart vowed to appreciate every second with him, every second of him.
“Wait, dada, leave some. Wanna taste.” She stopped Bucky’s hand from slopping the bowl further so the rest of the fruits would fall out.
Bucky, of course, listened to her at once, giving her the bowl to hold on her apron-covered lap as he grabbed her a spoon.
She loved having a taste of the leftovers. Sometimes Bucky would catch her licking cake dough off the bowl in the bakery kitchen and no matter how many times he’d tell her it wasn’t healthy, because the eggs in the batter were raw, she’d still be licking that dough the second he’d turn his back. Bucky loved her too much to be stern with her, so he’d just make sure he was always there, moving the bowl to the sink after being done with it and laughing at her cute pout when she’d see it fill with water as Daddy rinsed it.
Bucky shook the pan to evenly distribute the berries on the surface, adoringly grinning at her attempts to catch a berry that wouldn’t roll and slide off the spoon. She eventually managed to scoop some, moaning when she slid the spoon in her mouth. Bucky’s food always tasted so good she was in love.
“Good, baby?” Bucky licked his lips, wiping his palms on his apron again.
“So good, dada.” She nodded, indulging herself with another spoon of pie filling.
“Give daddy a taste, bonbon,” he asked lowly and she held her spoon up for him, trying not to spill.
Bucky smiled gently, taking the spoon and bowl from her and setting them aside.
She didn’t have time to be confused before he was kissing her, his tongue sliding in to taste hers. Her eyes closed as a surprised moan got out only to be swallowed by Bucky.
She tasted like her with a hint of blueberries, so sweet; so delicious. Bucky’s hands cradled her face as he deepened the kiss, not able to get enough of her flavor, her soft lips or the tiny sounds leaving them. Her smaller hands settled on his chubby tummy, before sliding to his sides to hold him close, slightly clutching his apron.
Their mouths parted, the need for oxygen kind of forcing Bucky away though he still gave her lips a couple of short kisses as he tried to take his breath, his forehead resting on hers.
“So good indeed,” Bucky chuckled breathlessly and her face felt hot, her nose shyly nuzzling Daddy’s cheek to hide.
“Hey, look at me,” Bucky’s voice was so velvety and soft as his fingers brought her face back to his, “I love you, bonbon,” Bucky said, his blue eyes enchanting hers and she could only see, hear, smell and feel him.
Bucky was gorgeous. His tall frame towering over hers, making her feel safe. His pink lips wearing a tender smile that was only designed for her. His cologne surrounding her and filling her chest with warmth. His belly soft and full under her palms. His hair a little out of place as a few strands had slipped out of the bun and refused to stay behind his ear. He was flawless and he was her Daddy.
“I love you, daddy,” she returned with a timid smile.
Her hand went up to slide Bucky’s soft hair back behind his ear, stealing his heart all over again when she cupped his cheek and pressed a tiny kiss to his lips.
With her hand still holding the side of his face and her face tilted upwards, she then started telling Daddy what they had to do next, talking about covering the filling using the remaining pie dough and such, wanting Bucky to be proud of her. And he was, though he wasn’t hearing a word she was saying, he was the proudest.
As he watched her lips move and her hands gesture, Bucky could only think he’d gone to heaven because that must’ve been the only correct name for what he was experiencing in her angelic presence.
Of all the sweet things he's ever tasted, she was his one, true addiction and Bucky was gladly hooked.
~~
Tags: @harrysthiccthighss, @tinystudentfirepurse, @lavendercitizen
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bitchassbucky · 4 years ago
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.raw
Word count: 1.3k
Warning/s: this chapter is pretty tame ngl. very toxic relationship dynamics, bit spicy, references to sex, dark!bucky x dark! reader, obsessive/manipulative tendencies, cyber and irl stalking (usage of tracking device), food and eating were mentioned several times
A/N: thank you @unsaltedalmonds for the idea of IT!Bucky wearing this shirt lmfao
follow the CTRL series:
i - .exe
ii - .avi
iii - .raw
iv - .png
v - .zip
CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard
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The lunch rush is starting to pick up when you came into the restaurant Bucky had told you. The chitter-chatter of the patrons along with the live acoustic band drones on as you sit by the bar waiting for him.
It’s nice. The mood is casual and the atmosphere is light. Maybe if the al-fresco dining area isn’t too crowded, you’d pick a sunny spot.
Catching your reflection on a glassy surface, you fix your appearance, hoping that it isn’t too much or too little.
“You look great, don’t worry.” A voice behind you perks up and you turn—Bucky.
A genuine smile finds itself on your lips, “thanks, Bucky. How long have you been here?” You let your eyes gaze upon his form. Black bomber jacket, zipped up all the way, tight skinny jeans, and scruffy boots. He swapped his dress shirt with something casual and it’s somehow driving you nuts already.
He gestures backward to a free table a few feet away, “long enough to get a seat for us.”
Bucky then sees your eyes flick outside by the restaurant’s patio, “unless you wanna go al-fresco?”
“Oh my gosh,” you almost even give yourself an eye roll for that, “no—no, it’s okay. We can stay here.”
“C’mon, it’s okay. I’m sure someone would be willing to switch with us.”
Before you could protest further, Bucky already flagged down the hostess. Giving his best smile and a minuscule head tilt, he speaks, “Do you think we could get a seat out there? I think fresh air would do us good.”
Like any other woman—hell, even men—wouldn’t be able to resist Bucky and his charm, “yeah! Of course, anything for you and your girlfriend.” The hostess looks at you and beams, prompting you to smile back.
Do you even try to dismiss that claim when you caught how Bucky reacted?
Peals of laughter slip past your lips as Bucky unzips his jacket, revealing a tasteful shirt underneath, “Bucky, oh my god!”
He throws an apologetic look around as you keep laughing, your hands hitting the table repeatedly.
“Can you keep it down?” Even he was chuckling a bunch, “in my defense, I need to do my laundry.”
You calmed yourself down only to laugh again, happy tears springing to the sides of your eyes.
Bucky wants to relive this is forever. Making you laugh and cry from laughing too much.
Is this what love feels like?
Your presence to him is like ecstasy.
He never wants to leave your light.
Everything about you is addicting.
And the way you didn’t even try to dismiss when the hostess called you his girlfriend—you want him as much as he wants you.
Lunch turned into afternoon snacks and snacks turned to dinner.
You and Bucky almost went and turned every food place upside down, the waistbands of your pants getting snug as the sun sets by the avenue.
“I’m so full, oh my god.” You jokingly rubbed your tummy, sipping boba as you walked side by side.
“Says the person drinking boba tea?” Bucky smirks, his hair fashioned into a low bun, showing off his side profile, much to the delight of people passing by.
He’s a walking Greek statue and you’re with him.
Bucky makes you feel loved. Enough. Seen. Validated.
Is this what love feels like?
You in his presence feel like a warm hug.
Bucky changed you forever.
A rather rushing pedestrian knocked shoulders with Bucky, causing him to stumble back and you to hold him steady, “you good?”
He seemed pissed, the crease between his eyebrows prominent, “yeah. Sorry, I’m okay.”
And then there it was: the tug of something unknown yet strangely familiar. The sound of the traffic ceases as you and Bucky both gaze upon each other’s eyes, only drifting to the other’s lips.
The moment has never been this perfect. Fuck all your romantic comedies starring Kate Hudson, this is your story now.
“Can I kiss you?” Bucky asks tenderly. His hand brushing your hair away from your face.
“Yes.”
Without a moment’s notice, your lips met.
Hand in hand, you walked the streets feeling like you’re on the clouds. Sweet smiles, bashful giggles. Normally, you would protest against stealing kisses but not when it’s him.
“This is my place,” Bucky says, pointing towards a mid-rise apartment complex. The neighborhood wasn’t new to you; you often find yourself walking these very streets early in the mornings.
You haven’t had the moment to appreciate his art pieces when Bucky suddenly pinned you against the door, shutting it roughly as soon as you stepped into his apartment threshold.
His lips finding yours, nibbling. The kiss was anything but sweet—all teeth and tongues.
“You have no idea how much I’ve waited to do that.”
“Like a month?” You quipped, tugging the collar of his tee. Your arms draping past his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips.
“Yeah, sure, let’s say a month.”
Having you in his studio apartment was meant to be. You in his space was written in the stars. He can almost see you waking up on his bed with him cooking you breakfast. Making you a cup of coffee now that he knows how you like it: with cream and two sugars.
You took a seat on his large office chair and a vision of you riding him suddenly floods his brain. Hey, now’s not the time.
Him shaking his head into resetting sent the wrong message, “oh. I can’t sit there, or…?” You pull yourself up, metaphorically hitting yourself in the head for making such a presumption.
Maybe he’s that kind of person who doesn’t like someone all up in their space. Then why would he take you here?
“No, no, it’s fine. I just—don’t you think it’s a bit late?” Bucky forces a smile, rubbing his palm across his nape. The warm feeling was suddenly pulled out of him. Now he’s just standing in his house with an acquaintance.
You suddenly felt small, minuscule, and very, very stupid. “Oh. Yeah, uh, I should probably get going.”
“What about a drink?” Bucky’s internally panicking now, he didn’t mean to insinuate the intent of leaving.
You shook your head, straightening your posture as you gathered your thoughts. “I can call a ride, it’s no worries. Got tons of stuff to do anyway.”
“I’m sorry.” Is all Bucky said. He wasn’t really sure why he’s apologizing or what it is for.
The door clicked closed and Bucky bolts to his workspace, closing down the applications that will implicate him.
He closes all applications but one, a tracking dot. He installed one on your work phone just in case you needed his help and can’t reach out. You’d never know who’s a sick fuck in these days.
Bucky shoots you a text but instead, he got a phone call.
Hey.
Hey.
The sound of the road was muffled on your end, but nonetheless, the car was moving in the right direction.
I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to...intrude. I just—I really like you, Bucky. I’m sorry I was too forward.
I… Bucky tries to play with time as he chooses his next words carefully, I like you too but I think we’re going too fast.
Your end was quiet, save from the ambient noises.
I guess so. Let’s keep things professional and friendly first, okay?
Okay.
I gotta go, I’m at my place.
The line went dead without as much as a goodbye.
Liar. Why would you lie to him? You have at least fifteen minutes more to go.
Why would you lie to him? Didn't you just say that you liked him? The way you said it was so casual—like it didn’t bother you that you were lying to him. Raised like a liar, die like a thief.
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tundrainafrica · 3 years ago
Text
Title: How many colors can you see in the dark?
Summary:
"Darkness wasn’t pitch black. Darkness wasn’t nothing. It was a slew of shadows, lines and glimmers. It was a dark blue, a light blue in places and if she searched for it, a subtle shade of green.
Eyes were just constantly looking for something to see."
After the war, Hange and Levi start living together and Hangs notices something might be a little off about Levi.
Link: AO3
Note:
I know this is two weeks late but...happy birthday Shaila! Based on the prompt you sent ;)
Levi had always approached housemaking like it was a delicate art, a dance to master
Or maybe it was something he had mastered already.
Despite his small stature and his generally aloof demeanor, he navigated the kitchen with silent confidence, running his hands over each task quickly, efficiently and more notably, elegantly.
Elegant enough to catch Hange’s busy eyes for at least a few minutes a day.
Turning something as mundane as managing a house into an art was an admirable skill that Hange learned over the years, could never be replicated without the natural proclivity. And as long as it was Levi was involved, Hange seemed to be completely capable of giving her full attention.
And before she even realized it herself, she had mastered the subtle art of just observing.
She mastered it so well that when inconsistencies started to appear, Hange spotted them almost immediately.
There was a plate that Levi had settled on the counter with a louder than usual clatter and that was enough to ring alarm bells inside her. Then when the angry clatters, the awkward rhythm as Levi reorganized utensils became commonplace, Hange found herself watching every move more closely then listening even when she had know idea what she was searching for in the first place.
She surreptitiously kept her guard up, she followed his movements. She snuck glances when she was sure Levi wasn’t looking. Over time, acts as mundane as turning on the stove had Hange looking up, ears perked up, interest piqued.
Maybe she was just a little nervous that Levi might burn himself.
Levi knew the stove from the back of his hand, he knew everything inside and out from the vacuum cleaners, to the dishwashers, to the mops. She had never needed to be nervous before.
But the clicking of the stove as he turned the knob was just a tad slow. The plates continued to clatter instead of settling softly on the counter.
And when Hange observed the way he set the table, she couldn’t help but notice, the spoon was just a little closer to the plate than the spoon.
Something, a fastidious Levi would have never allowed.
It could have been the long observations, or just the broken dish that had started it all. It could have been Levi’s careful movements or Hange’s penchant for overthinking. For a while, she had even blamed herself for being overly zealous about how the house should be run.
Then understanding came out of nowhere one morning, as an abrupt yet taut curse from just a few feet away.
Fuck.
Hange’s reaction was almost immediate. “Levi? You okay?”
He wasn’t okay. Hange had stood up instinctively at the sound, her eyes following Levi’s hands. The latter had dropped the peeler onto the kitchen counter with a louder clack than usual.
“Let me take a look,” Hange said. Her pace quickened as she made more sense of the situation.
Out of instinct, Levi held his hand close to him, another clumsy mistake, considering the red streaks that pooled out of that tiny knick that started to leak into the white shirt underneath. “Fucking hell,” Levi let out another curse, that time as a hushed whisper. He pulled away even before Hange could get close.
“Let me take a look,” Hange repeated, that time more firmly. Instinctively her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed.
Somehow, that combination of everything had been enough to have Levi just a little more obedient.
He didn’t pull away further. But he didn’t make it any easier either.
It was Hange who carefully unwrapped his fingers, exposing the raw skin underneath. She ran her hand over it as gently as she could, but still not gentle enough to prevent a soft, hesitant and begrudging whimper.
“I’ll get the bandages,” Hange turned towards the cupboard, pulling out the materials one by one.
The process of bandaging was slow and the air between the two remained unbearably silent. Hange had more than enough thinking space to notice it then, when it was right at her fingertips.
Levi’s hands have always been rough, they have always been crusty to the touch. But something seemed a little different about the scrapes, the raw red that seemed to climb up his wrists, settling in his palms.
Levi had always been careful, he’d never been clumsy, let alone accident prone.
But his hands seemed to tell a different story. Hange ran her hands over his palms as she worked, ignoring the winces, the way he tensed up at each slight touch.
Then she started to ignore the passage of time, only painfully aware of the questions, then the ardent curiosity that seemed to manifest as some heavy weight in the silent kitchen.
She had to let it out somehow, or risk having that weight crush her.
Are you okay? Even if she did ask that, would Levi ever respond with a straight answer? Her own experience with him said no.
She took a deep breath. “Levi…” Hange started, hands running through the bruising once again. “Did you fall somewhere?”
***
Levi never answered that question. And any attempt at pushing and prodding after that, came up empty.
He was quiet, and it turned out, keeping mum could have been as much of his talent as being careful. He could ignore Hange if he tried and he would mumble something to himself, and walk away.
He always found a way to feign or at the most even force himself into a state of deep concentration, enough to even convince Hange to leave her questions for another day.
Hange was never one to stay quiet forever. And the universe was only tempting Hange to push the issue.
Suddenly everything was a catalyst.
The broken plate was the first catalyst. Then accidents seemed to pop up more frequently, an awkward clatter worse than an awkward clatter or a broken rhythmThere were rhythm. There were broken platess, a bleeding cutss and crushed fruits. Strange accidents had become a common sight.
I’m fine. Levi had said the first time she asked.
Hange gave it a week. One week became two weeks when Levi insisted that he was fine.
Two weeks became three when Levi insisted he was just tired.
One month in, Hange’s own habits of observation have graduated to levels of almost accurate predictions.
Hange didn’t notice it for herself immediately. In fact, she noticed it in slow motion, in the way she tensed up as she started to make sense of her observations.
They were in the moment Levi’s eyes twitched, the split second long blink, and the way his hand hovered over the plate, the way his hands gripped for something so tightly Hange could have sworn he had to have been gripping something.
Something a little more tangible than air.
Hange didn’t have to squint or furrow her brows to see that nothing had been between his two finger tips. Yet, for a second, Levi still held the air in between them like it was a lifeline.
When Hange looked up, narrowing her eyes at Levi’s, she noted the flash of confusion. As quickly as he pulled back, it melted away to something more subtle.
That dumbfounded expression didn’t fall away for any longer. It stayed long enough for Hange to see everything about the way Levi had blinked rapidly for a few seconds longer, the awkward way he stepped back then the way he gripped the counter as he bent down to grab the plate.
He didn’t go quickly for the broken plate, he started to feel the ground and Hange was sure she could have been much quicker. She rushed next to him.
Levi had a headstart but despite that, Hange was moving alarmingly faster. “Levi… I’ll handle this,” Hange said, noting the awkward and aimless movements of his hands.
Levi didn’t even protest but something inside Hange had wished he did. He pulled back, reached above him for some support from the counter.
When Hange focused on the obvious signs, she was quick to conclud, Levi had never been that slow.
He had never approached cleaning with such painful hesitation.
The first time, Hange did stomach it but she never really was the type to sit back and observe. She always observed but after observing, Hange would act in the most logical, calculated manner.
“We’re going to the doctor.” Hange brought it up out over an uncharacteristic silence.
“No.”
That brusque response had Hange jumping in her seat. When Hange thought about it for a second longer, after ‘I’m fines,” and “I’m just tired,” a firm ‘no’ seemed almost ominous.
Levi wasn’t making things any better with the rash way at which he stood up, then teetered, his eyes hovering wildly over the table. He blinked hard, then he widened his eyes in some look of confusion or surprise.
When Hange bent over to look into it, he looked away. “I’m fine.”
“You know I can help with the laundry right? Or cooking.”
“Why do you wanna help so suddenly? Don’t you have work to do?”
“I do,” Hange admitted. “But even if you’ve always wanted to do it yourself... I thought I wanna help with house chores more.”
“That’s new,” Levi glanced at her accusingly.
Glanced. That’s what it should have been
Hange squinted, then her eyes scanned over his expression while aiming to recall every other moment he had made eye contact before.
Levi wasn’t glancing. His eyes could have been staring at nothing. Either that, or he could have been staring at something which Hange couldn’t see.
There was a blunt grey in his sharp blue eyes and before Hange even felt the damp tension in the room, the way it weighed on her lips, forced her jaw back, she took one deep breath. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Doing everything on your own?”
“I’ve always done everything on my own,” Levi said. He pulled his chair back then walked slowly away.
He didn't finish his breakfast that day.
***
It was like a switch just turned on inside Hange.
The stronger the indignance, the more motivated Hange became. Soon, even the small things back home were pulling out the researcher from inside her.
Despite her chaotic personality, Hange always seemed to put some systematic process into something as complex as solving a problem and subsequently, getting into the bottom of someone as stoic as Levi Ackerman.
Define the problem.
Levi was just a little too clumsy.
Form a hypothesis.
That part was a little more complex. With a little more observation, a little more analysis, she noticed the small details.
The small details weren’t in Levi, in fact they were in the little changes in his surroundings. The spices and the groceries have always been arranged neatly but when Hange observed Levi’s movements, she noticed, he liked to hover his hand over everything before allowing it to land, on top of one cap, then he would grip the one right next to it.
The salt shaker was just a little smaller than the pepper shaker just an inch away. When Levi was done with the salt he put it in its usual spot.
In the exact same place.
Levi was meticulous. He always did it that way. But there was something unsettling about the way he gripped it hard before letting go, before hovering his hand over the jar right next to it.
“Here,” Levi said, dropping the plate gently on the counter.
Scrambled eggs with salt.
“Thank you,” Hange said as she pulled it towards herself. Most days, she had a book next to her, or a few documents to review before she left for the office. That day in particular, the documents were just for show. She watched carefully as he cleaned up, as he positioned the bowl right next to the plates, and when he set it, he let his hand hover, he let it gently fly over the other utensils.
As if he was memorizing where everything was.
But Hange couldn’t be too sure. She needed to experiment.
There was only one window to move and that was when Levi was in the shower.
So Hange called the office, mentioning something to Armin about being late, and about an urgent health concern.
She never called days off so Armin didn’t pry.
She opened the salt shaker and poured the contents into a bowl. She opened the pepper shaker and poured the contents inside. A few hand motions later, the salt was where it wasn’t supposed to be and the pepper wasn’t where it was supposed to be.
Then Hange lined them up. She could never be too sure if that was the exact sample place but it was worth a try.
The next morning, the experiment turned out to be very much worth it when Hange was served an omelette sprinkled with a little too much of something else on top.
“Levi, I asked for salt in the omelette right?”
“You always ask for salt,” Levi answered matter-of-factly as he picked at his own breakfast. “Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing… I just thought you put in a little too much.” Hange made a loud show of pushing the plate in front of him and it looked like Levi had been ready to make a show of something too.
He narrowed his eyes on the plate then nodded. “Sorry, I’ll put less salt next time,” he muttered, only proving himself what Hange already suspected.
“It’s fine, put as much salt as you want,” Hange didn’t even notice herself, not until she pulled the plate back towards her that her voice had deadened to smatterings of sound. She sliced the omellete into smaller places, mixing the black pepper with the gooey yellow just underneath then wondering for a second how Levi managed to so cleanly crack the eggs even when he could barely tell the difference between white and black.
The only way to ever find out is to ask. But there were more pressing things to ask at that moment.
Levi, are you blind? If Hange just went with her first instinct, maybe that’s what she would have asked.
This is pepper. That had been her second choice but with such a fragile moment right between them, that was no time for proving her own conjecture correct.
She went for an in between, a curious in between and she decided, it was up to Levi to take it for what he sees the question to be. “Levi? How much can you see right now?”
“I can see just fine,” Levi answered, once again straightforward and firm.
At that moment, he met her gaze with blank eyes, or at least, he attempted to meet her gaze. The moment Hange avoided his eyes, he didn’t follow.
She started to make sense of everything at once.
The strong denial, the lack of confusion, her omelette with a little too much pepper instead of salt and one strong inference later, Hange started on a new endeavor--- convincing Levi to see a doctor.
***
The disease wasn’t anything new and Hange was confident, she could have pronounced it and memorized it if she had put her heart into studying it.
As Levi put it, there were more pressing things to study than the sudden onset of failing eyesight. The doctors at least had been nice enough to put a prognosis on it.
The rules were simple, old people usually got it, Levi had just been terribly unlucky he experienced it decades earlier. It wasn’t common but it wasn’t unheard of either, even in the small island of Eldia. If Hange requested the documentation from Marley, if she made a quick visit to Marley, maybe she would have figured it out for herself.
Levi had shot down that idea though before Hange could have entertained it any further.
Even in the silence, in the bedroom, at two in the morning, even when Hange had so carefully padded towards the desk, Levi had seemed to have sensed it.
His voice rough, his eyes half open, he spoke up seemingly from out of nowhere. “No need.”
Whatever had hinted him to it seemed to have work, maybe even if it was just Hange’s own tense demeanor which she couldn’t so easily brush away.
In fact, Hange had been thinking about it. She had a half written letter for a leave to go to Marley. She had papers on whatever the doctors had even documented about the failing eyesight of elders, all scattered across the table.
But fading eyesight of elders was something not many people endeavored to cure. Levi's case was just too rare, and there were no other studies which made it worth white.
It was as if Levi had known that too.. “Hange, go back to sleep.”
He had chosen a convenient moment to say it. That exact moment where Hange had ran her eyes over the last few paragraphs of one of the files from the library.
No known cure.
“I’m reading something.” Hange disturbed the papers enough to release some loud rustle in the room.
“You wanna read it to me?” Levi asked. That was the first time he had ever asked her to read anything to him.
To Hange’s surprised, it sent some painful pang through her chest that seemed to settle in her stomach.
Suddenly, she was in no mood to read again.
“Actually, you’re right. I think this can wait until morning.”
***
Hange’s work in the office started to die down just a bit, and suddenly her mind was everywhere.
She allowed herself to ponder what the hell Levi was busying himself with while she was away. Did he get bored? More importantly, was he safe?
And a few times she did call home, only to get some form of ‘go back to work’ in a more and more annoyed tone with every call. The few times she stopped herself from calling, she busied herself with something else.
Piles and piles of paperwork, some of them were actual work and some of them were something that Hange would have classified as personal, hidden amongst a small pile of papers slightly obscured by the one Jean had left a while back.
Luckily, no one really asked Hange to clean up. No one among her subordinates seemed to have even made sense of the pile of paperwork and that was one thing Hange took advantage of.
After one call with Levi, where the latter had put down the phone a little too roughly, Hange quickly went through one of the letters she had written only that morning, to another doctor she had heard about through her network.
The few doctors in Eldia had deemed it incurable but Hange still managed to grip on to whatever hope came with a second opinion. The few researchers that had come back bore bad news but Hange was unfazed, there were still many other doctors, some in Marley, some in the Middle East, some in Hizuru.
Others had come back with nothing but affirmation that whatever research that had reached Eldia were the latest.
But Hange wasn’t giving up just yet. There were a few more she hadn’t sent yet.
She bent over, chin leaning on one hand. She knew the best way to write a letter and if she just let loose, she was confident she could make it sound as professional as the many other letters she had written before.
Somehow, the nth letter was harder. Somehow, writing that same letter when she had received too many rejections already was harder.
Was it worth it to still try? Hange took a deep breath, pressed the pen to paper and wrote out the first few words. It was like a script, when Hange gave into self discipline and to the mechanisms that kept working the past few years, she found it was easy enough to stay productive and efficient.
Doctor Wilken,
I hope you’re doing well.
My name is Hange Zoe from Paradis. I’m writing to you to inquire about a case…
Hange had gone halfway through, before the door to her office creaked open. The sound echoed, breaking whatever trance she didn’t even know she had been in and Hange jumped her seat.
“Did I scare you?” Armin asked, another wad of documents held close to his chest.
Hange eyed the documents and instinctively patted the empty space to the side of her desk. “Leave it on my desk.”
“This can wait until tomorrow.” Armin dropped the documents on the side and looked up at her expectantly.
“If it’s urgent, I could get started tonight,” Hange offered.
“The grocery closes at seven,” Armin volunteered.
At that point, she had been painfully aware that a lot may have changed about her work habits. How long had she been writing letters back and forth. More importantly, how long had she been frequenting the grocery on the way home?
Since the doctors had given her Levi’s diagnosis? Hell, maybe even before that.
“You notice I’ve been going to the market more often?” Hange said.
“Connie noticed it first. Then Mikasa,” Armin explained. He put his hands up in defense. “We weren’t stalking you or anything, but we used to see Levi in the market more… and when we started seeing you there, we got curious.”
Hange forced a smile. “I just thought I should pull my weight at home. I think I’ve been spending too much time working. Not too much time helping out.”
“Levi isn’t the type to get lonely though and I’m sure he does enjoy cleaning,” Armin said.
“He sure does,” Hange said. She kept whatever tone to herself, instead feigning some preoccupation as she shuffled mindlessly through the papers. “Still, we’re living together and taking care of the house is a team job.”
Armin nodded. “You know, you don’t have to work overtime anymore. Jean, Mikasa and I… The queen… Connie… we can handle most of the work. You should spend more time at home--- I don’t even think you ever got rest as commander.”
Hange sighed. “I’m gonna have to think about that. There is a lot I feel like I haven’t done yet. Gimme some time to think about that.”
“If you need anything else, just let me know,” Armin said. He bowed lightly and walked quietly out the room, leaving Hange to ponder that offer.
There were things she hadn’t done. There was a lot of work she still had to deal with but she didn't need the time to consider them.
It was an easy decision to make.
Soon enough Hange had stopped working overtime and she had started to spend a little more time cracking open books and reports from each doctor and writing letters in between.
Surprisingly, she didn’t feel at all guilty about shortening work hours.
***
The door of their home opened up to the living room and just behind it was the kitchen.
By evening Hange would find Levi either working at the kitchen, sitting at the dining table or lounging by the sofa.
On the rare days that he wasn’t, he could be in the laundry room.
That was her first thought.
There was something about the eerie silence though that had Hange walking ahead more quickly.
“Levi?” she called out.
There was no reply. The beating of her heart only turned wilder. Hange dropped her bag by the sofa and raced towards the laundry room, just beyond that, was the bedroom.
She didn’t have to go any further though. Levi was slumped on the wall of the living room. A pile of clothes lay toppled over and scattered on the floor right next to him.
“Hange…” It wasn’t a question. Maybe more of a statement. But to Hange it had just been a lifeless name and the blank expression on Levi’s face wasn’t helping it either.
“Hey, I’m here.” Hange bent over and started to pick up the clothes, resting them on one hand.
“Did they get dirty?” Levi pulled at one of the sweaters then held it close to himself.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll put them back in the closet.”
“No, but I need to know, do I need to wash them again.”
“You don’t have to. I’m not as much of a clean freak as you are,” Hange folded the clothes once again and piled them all in. Levi had done his part but Hange couldn’t help but note, in the span of her folding ten, Levi had only folded two.
His was still neater and most likely, if Hange hadn’t caught him, if that accident--- whatever that had been--- that left him slumped on the wall, didn’t happen. He still would have managed to fold everything.
She carried the laundry basket with one arm and lumbered over to their bedroom. Listening closely, she made out the hesitant and clumsy steps of her partner right behind.
“Levi, what happened?” she asked.
“I fell over, the basket fell over, I hit my head on the wall.” He kept his voice soft, his answers straightforward.
“I’ll get some ice. Just lay in bed,” Hange ordered.
That accident must have hurt. For once, Levi was completely obedient, not even attempting to reorganize the clothes on the basket and putting it inside the closet. He didn’t even answer, or crane his neck when Hange entered the room.
She dropped the ice pack on his outstretched palm, guiding his fingers to the top, where it was easiest to hold. “In the morning, if it still hurts, you have to tell me. We’re going to have to take you to the doctor.”
Levi had experienced worse. Explosions, man eating monsters and war. Regardless, just a strong smack to the right part of the head was enough to kill. Hange had worked long enough with army medics to know.
He gripped the ice pack only lightly and once again, Hange was tempted to run her fingers over his and grip his hands guiding them over it. It wasn’t a physical issue. Levi was still strong, she was sure of that.
Still, Levi was stronger than that, he always had been. Hell, he was dubbed humanity’s strongest for a reason.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.
“No. I’m not,” Levi admitted.
“We should see a doctor tomorrow then?”
Levi turned to his side, his front to the window. “It’s not that. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“But something else hurts right? Something you can’t explain?” Hange suggested.
Levi didn’t respond after that and Hange didn’t prod further. She started to reorganize the clothes one on top of the other, noting then how Levi had managed to fold them neatly into piles.
Hers and his, divided like they’ve always been. Staring for longer than usual, not having to consider the day in front or any other things, she started to note that there was a slight difference.
There were small stains on the white, some white on the red and just colors where she didn’t remember having them been before. “Levi, maybe we should get two hampers, a light and a dark one? So you don’t mix them up?” Hange suggested.
Silence.
Hange turned back to the hamper, the clothes still untouched, clumsily folded on top of one another. She brought it back to the bed and held Levi’s left hand towards her.
“You want me to teach you how to tell the lights from the darks?” Hange asked.
Levi had been holding the ice pack to his head for the past few seconds and he turned to Hange, eyes half open.
“Sit up.” She pulled lightly at Levi and it turned out, she didn’t have to pull for long. That order was enough to get him to a sitting position.
“I’ll teach you the lights from the darks,” Hange said. She pulled out one of Levi’s sweaters, a pure white with a few colored spots from washings. “This one is your white sweater…” She started. She guided Levi’s fingers through it, pressing his fingers closer on the areas where the threads bunched together, making up some intricate design.
As she guided his fingers through, as she felt his fingers pinch at it, she started to notice it herself. The seams, the hems, the collar, they all gave the sweater a unique character, and the color was starting to seem almost negligible.
“I can still tell the whites from the darks,” Levi said.
“How much can you see?”
Levi nodded and gave her a wry smile, the first in a long time. “Just enough to pick up some colors.”
“I think you may have mixed some of the lights and darks together. ,” Hange said.
Levi seemed deep in thought for a second. “It’s dim in the laundry room. When it’s darker, I can’t see as much, maybe that’s it,” he explained. He pinched at the hems as he spoke, running his hand quickly over it, as if trying to distract himself. “I just have to do better at figuring it out.”
“But now...” Hange said. “If you can’t tell the whites from the darks…”
“I can. It’s just harder to tell at times.” Levi hummed. “Let me try to explain it… When in a room, I don’t see anything. But in a well lit room, like now…” He paused for a second longer.
Hange was starting to get impatient. “Like now?”
Levi fell back on the bed and stared up ahead at the ceiling. “Hange, tell me, how many colors can you see in the dark?”
***
She did the laundry again that night, particularly for the more dirtied bundle.
In the dim laundry room, she closed her eyes for a moment, just for long enough to understand it herself. Her eyes would naturally search for light and in the darkness, they still seem to find it.Yet, Hange was sure that that was the closest thing she could get to total darkness.
Once she finished, she retired to the bedroom, turned on the lights of the room once again. Unlike before, it did nothing to wake Levi or even have him stirring, half asleep. His own condition had actually made him a better sleeper over time.
Hange put whatever dried up clothes back in the closet and just to answer the burning question for herself, she didn’t turn off the lights. She fell back on the bed, just like Levi had done hours ago. She closed her eyes tightly and the lights above stayed within range for just a second longer and the longer Hange made sense of herself, the clearer it started to become.
Darkness wasn’t pitch black. Darkness wasn’t nothing. It was a slew of shadows, lines and glimmers. It was a dark blue, a light blue in places and if she searched for it, a subtle shade of green.
Eyes were just constantly looking for something to see.
How many colors can you see in the dark? The darkness was endless and Hange was sure, if she looked hard enough, she may even see every shade in the spectrum.
That should be the same for Levi right? Hange thought to herself. She turned to a sleeping Levi, tracing the lines under his eyes, the tense jaw and when she stared for a little too long, she was cruelly reminded, the difference was right there.
She could open her eyes when she grew tired from searching for colors. Levi couldn’t.
An attempt at an awkward apology, Hange turned towards Levi, pulled herself closer, pressed her forehead on his, found rhythm in his breathing, picked out the moment the rhythm broke. Then there was a light brush on her cheeks, light yet ticklish enough for Hange to just ponder for a second how long Levi’s eyelashes really were.
She let out that laugh that tickled at her throat and she pressed her lips against his.
“You can stop now. I’m awake,” Levi’s lips pulled up into a smile. “Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing,” Hange answered almost instinctively.
“You never laugh at nothing.”
Hange sighed then she turned on her back. “I was just thinking about something.”
“About…”
“You know, there are things the eyes can’t see right? But are still very much there?” As soon as it came out of her mouth, all to a dead response, Hange realized, it wasn’t funny at all.
It had never been funny. It was just a glimmer of hope and she just hadn’t felt a glimmer of hope in a while.
***
There were colors in total darkness. There were colors the eyes couldn’t see but they were colors that the ears, the nose, the tongue, the skin had no problems making.
Getting Levi acquainted with them was a daunting task.
It took weeks to get Levi familar with the hems of each sweater, the collars of his shirts and the areas were seams split wide enough to make a noticeable dent just between his fingers.
Soon enough, Hange realized, Levi didn’t need the dent, or he didn’t need the areas were the strings awkwardly bunched up together. Sometimes the areas were the threads lined up perfectly were enough of a hint.
How Levi could have figured it out, Hange could never tell but progress was still progress.
The work at the kitchen continued, the cleaning continued and most days, Hange could pretend it was just like before. If she avoided looking closely at how Levi’s hands hovered lightly over surfaces, how he pressed his hand against the wall before he made a turn, she could pretend he was just slightly clumsier than usual.
And most days it did work. Levi was always improving, getting used to whatever view he had every morning. Sometimes, she could even pretend he wasn’t struggling at all.
A ripple in whatever progress they set for themselves came as a knock on the door and a surprise visit.
It was a lazy Saturday morning, Hange was lounging on the couch, Levi was preparing lunch when they first knocked on the door.
“Is this a bad time?” Armin asked.
It wasn’t and Hange didn’t think it ever would be. The cadets always had a special place in her heart. She didn’t need too much to reassure Armin. She let the wide smile play at her lips, she then let her head cock to the side.
“You wanna stay for lunch?” Hange asked. She turned to Levi who was looking up at them too, his eyes wide with surprise.
“We can make a little more,” Levi volunteered.
Armin shook his head. “No thank you. Mikasa and I will be visiting Eren’s grava after this. We just wanted to drop some things over.” He dropped the plastic bag on the coffee table and turned to Levi. “It’s been a while. We don’t see you go out as much anymore.”
“Hange offered to help with groceries so there’s no need to,” Levi explained, his expression completely deadpan, enough of a reminder for Hange that they never did tell anyone about.
“I noticed you’ve been sending a lot of mail… to doctors I think? And I saw you’ve been reading a lot of medical books so when these were sent over to the office, I thought you’d want them as soon as possible. They arrived at the office this morning.”
“From where?”
“It was sent with a letter apparently, from the medical society of Marley,” Armin explained.
“Yeah, I requested that.” Hange settled on the sofa and ran her hands through the package. The medical society of Marley was one of the most technologically advanced yet somehow, had been the most difficult to contact.
She unwrapped the packaging to find books. A quick look at the cover and Hange found they were case studies. She ran her eyes over the cover, then quickly through the pages. She took a deep breath.
Nothing at all about a cure, yet many pages about management, symptoms and cases. Then she ran her hand over the letter. She ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter with one flick.
Hange had always been a quick reader but she only needed one second to realize, she didn’t need to read the rest of the letter.
Her eyes had only been searching for one word, cure.
No cure. That was the only answer she found..
“You okay?” MIkasa asked. Suddenly, she was right next to Hange.
Hange only needed to feel the hand on her shoulder and to see the surprised look on MIkasa’s face to accept it as truth. She was trembling, she was shaken. And for just a moment, Hange was feeling hopeless.
“I’m fine. Just a bit disappointed with the research I was doing.” “If I may ask… what research?” Armin asked hesitantly.
Hange managed a shrug and an almost uninvested expression. “Something about being able to see colors in the dark.”
And it looked like that had been enough. Mikasa and Armin didn’t prod more deeply than that.
Apparently, the disease would progress. Maybe over months, maybe over years but eventually, the subject would become completely blind.
The literature called him a subject but the word subject had always felt cold and calculating. Hange didn’t like the word patient either. He was Levi and he would always be Levi.
Tired of the negativity, the coldness, Hange put away the books, somewhere where even Levi wouldn’t find it to somewhere even she would need a chair to reach.
To hell with it, she wouldn’t be missing it for a long time. She was in a new stage of the process, the grieving process, the denial process, the acceptance process, one of those.
Either way, one thing was sure, it still fucking hurt like a bitch. And in her own way, she knew she had to find a way to shake it off. She opened the door then before leaving she let out a final greeting. “Just going out for a bit!” She said loud enough that Levi should hear.
And she slammed the door behind her. To clear her head, Hange went out to the streets and made the calming journey around the block.
They lived in a quiet residential area within what used to be walled Sinna, conducive for walks any time of the day. And Hange had learned over the years, keeping to some steady rhythm when she walked, keeping her breaths relaxed, she could easily take back whatever control she had lost.
Hange then tried another trick.
The end of the block led down to a downward slope and right in front of her was blue sky, framed by buildings on both sides. Out of instinct, or maybe just out of a burning curiosity Hange hadn’t tapped into yet, she closed her eyes.
Blue. Her view behind closed eyes was a light blond for just a split second.
Light blue but it never turned a dark blue. Then she started to search for contours between the light and the dark, then shapes, some of the perfectly geometric, other almost incomprehensible blobs.
Then Hange took a deep breath. The early autumn air around her seemed to tickle at her nostrils, the rustle of the leaves seemed to brush at her ears. Her lips were dry and they tasted a little bit like metal.
“Excuse me.” Of all things, it had been a passerby just behind her who had pulled her out of her trance.
“Sorry about that,” Hange responded almost instinctively. She moved to the side of the sidewalk, stood by and watched.
And having just fallen out of the last trance, suddenly Hange was finding anything to focus on. “What’s that big bag?” Hange asked, biting her lip soon after. Who the hell asks that out of nowhere?
“It’s a guitar,” the stranger asked matter-of-factly. If she had been at least a little offended by Hange, she didn’t show it.
In fact, the conversation seemed to flow a little more easily after that. It turned out there was a shop only a few minutes away, long enough for that instrument to draw Hange in.
She was out for an hour longer than she had expected. That one hour though was long enough to pick out a guitar, pick out some easy sheet music and guidebooks.
Hange came home late that evening but with two hands full with impulse purchases, brimming with newfound excitement.
***
Even in the deepest blackness, there were colors that shone clearly.
You just have to look for it. Hange whispered to herself, an attempt at self motivation.
One bout of serendipity and Hange found a new way to pass the time, that same time she had used up messaging every researcher and eye doctor in the international network.
In the evenings, she was reading tabs and sometimes, she was trying out the different chords, allowing her fingers to slowly get used to the soft nylon of the guitar, and the riffs which were unnatural to the touch.
One week into it, she was making music but admittedly, she was a little sloppy. A day or so after that, Hange decided to pick the sound for herself when she closed her eyes.
When she graduated from awkwardly pressing riffs and hearing unnecessary splats as she strummed, she opened up the lyrics.
And she only had to sing it once to feel the almost consoling burn in her throat, the rush in her cheeks and just her chest full, brimming with some cross between excitement and relief.
Eyes closed, hands moving, she seemed to see more colors, some colors she swore she had never seen before.
“Hey, can you sing that song?”
“Which song?”
“The one you sing on the balcony.”
Hange let out that wry smile. She looked away in instinct as she felt the blood rush up her cheeks, only reminded a second later, Levi wouldn’t have seen it. “You can hear it? I could have sworn I closed the door.”
“I still heard you, perfectly clear,” Levi retorted.
Hange cocked her head to the side, suddenly feeling like a five year old stealing from a cookie jar. Then she wondered, why the hell she had been hiding it in the first place. In her decades of managing squads and armies, somehow, she wondered how she made a mistake out of a stupid yet simple decision.
“I wanted it to be perfect before I let you listen,” Hange admitted. “But now that I think about it, maybe you would have enjoyed the process… of me learning?”
“I wouldn’t know if you don’t let me listen.”
Levi rarely made eye contact with Hange those days. There was no reason too when there was nothing to connect with. At that moment, he seemed to have deliberately met her gaze with his own unseeing one, an expectant look on his face.
Even before Levi had voiced the request, Hange was sure, she could never say no. She padded to one end of the room, taking the guitar hanging that sat on one of the shelves, and pulled it close to her.
“It’s an easy song,” Hange warned.
“Music is still music,” Levi said. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing.”
Hange played the opening chords, slowing down just a bit as she felt the bed shake, then a warm body pressed on her back. Levi had lain on the bed, pressed his forehead to her back, or that was the quickest guess she could make as she concentrated on coordinating her still very amateur fingers.
The opening chorus passed peacefully. To Hange, that was enough of an achievement.
“What’s the song?” Levi asked.
“Ir’s called ‘You are my sunshine.’ There was someone who met me at the music store and she recommended that since it’s easy to learn. Is it too mushy for you?” Hange asked, stifling a nervous laugh.
“It sounds just fine to me,” Levi said.
Hange saw that as a cue to continue. She strummed again, opening with a few chords then the first verse.
Even laying on the bed, seemingly unmoving, Hange seemed to sense investment, attentiveness from Levi. Maybe Levi was just waiting for his own chance to speak.
“Please don’t take my sunshine away,” Levi let it out as a whisper but Hange couldn’t help but pick out the remnants of a melody that seemed to die at his throat.
“Maybe if we sing that line enough times, it might just work.” A shoddy attempt to lighten the mood. It was only after the second verse did Hange realize how depressing the song actually had been. She turned to Levi, an apologetic smile on her face.
“I still see the sun you know,” Levi said. When you open the windows in the morning, or the curtains, I still see the white, sometimes I see yellow. When the sun rises, I still know that it’s morning.” Levi was surprisingly talkative or Hange suspected, there was something about how she was carrying herself that Levi could have sensed from his place in bed.
Hange pushed the guitar right under the bed, and lay in bed next to him. “You told me before, you still see other colors. But it still hurts right?”
“It does,” Levi admitted.
“Then you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t. What I wanna do is I wanna try to enjoy whatever is still there,” Hange reached her hand just a little to her left, close enough to just grip at his fingertips. “But i won’t be able to help, if you don’t tell me what you want to work on.”
Levi hummed for a second. “Work on your guitar skills.”
“I don’t need that reminder. What else?”
“Just help around the house more I guess…” Levi’s voice lacked fervor and Hange wasn’t at all convinced.
“You can think harder than that,” Hange responded firmly.
Levi didn’t respond immediately. And maybe the silence between them had worked to rack Levi’s brain. His answer was unexpected, simple but it seemed to make sense. “I want you to describe things to me.”
“Things?”
“How our house looks like, how the outside looks like every season, how you look like.” Levi answered. “One day,I’m going to forget how everything looks like, the colors, the trees, our house.... What if I told you, I’m scared of forgetting how you look like?”
It was easy enough to give. “I’m still here. I’ll look in the mirror and I’ll tell you how I look like,” Hange said. She stood up, walked towards the mirror next to her desk, making out whatever she could under the dim moonlight. “Big nose, always chapped lips, messy brown hair, small eyes.”
“Did you know, your eyes are bigger without your glasses.”
Instinctively, Hange pulled out her glasses, only to be greeted by whatever blur she had become in the mirror. “I can’t see it now.” But she was a quick thinker. Hange pressed her fingers to her good eye, tracing her eyelids then her bags underneath.
It took a little more than a few seconds to thread through them carefully and she could never tell if they really were big without comparing them to anyone else.
It wasn’t about what she saw though, it was about what Levi wanted to see.
She walked back to the bed, holding Levi’s hand between her finger and she pressed his good hand to her eyelids. “Will this let you remember?” She only had to guide his hands through her eyelids before he took the reigns. His hands travelled lightly over her lashes, then to the bags underneath, resting heavily and long enough for Hange to feel the pressure to her bones.
The hands fell to her large nose, then as if falling over a cliff, they fell almost quickly over her lips. Suddenly, Hange was self conscious of how dry they were.
“You should lick your lips more,” Levi whispered.
Hange couldn’t even find the right moment to let her tongue out and lick them. Levi’s fingers stayed for a second longer on her lips, heavily enough that it was difficult to even mouth words in between.
Still, she attempted. “Have your lips always been dry?” She pressed her own fingers to his lips,
“You’ve kissed them before right?”
She saw that as some cue to draw nearer and maybe it was. Levi didn’t turn away or pull away. Instead, he did his part and their lips locked.
Levi’s lips weren’t dry. And Hange wondered how many times they had kissed, how many times they had even touched lips yet it had never been so much as even a passing thought.
Eyes closed, she felt it, she tasted it then she relished the in betweens. In complete darkness, there were still colors to expereince, colors to see. It was just a matter of finding it.
Levi’s hands fell forward, landing on her neck, then down to the collar of her shirt.
She didn’t want it to end there. Hange held his hand just an inch away from her, before guiding it down towards the buttons of her polo and Levi got the message.
He held both hands a hairs breadth away from the buttons of her shirt, then pressed at them slowly one by one. Despite not having any visual aids, he still had close to perfect coordination.
He then pulled at her undergarments, delicately and slowly and Hange did her part. She pulled at his own sweater, flinging it to the side of the room before falling next to him on the bed.
“Do you want me to describe anything for you?” Hange offered.
It was late at night, the room was dim save for the moonlight, there wouldn’t be much to talk about beyond their bodies half naked right next to each other. Still, if Levi asked, it would have been worth a try.
“No. I’ll figure it out for myself,” Levi said. Once again, his hands were pressed on her face, this time tracing her cheeks. They sat for a second on the cheeks just below her eyes, before falling onto her chin.
Somehow, by just the movements of his fingers, Hange could pick out a little of what he could have been seeing. Levi didn’t have to see it for her to feel it.
He had pressed his fingers over the apple on her cheeks then right down to the dimples underneath and even in the darkness, the circular movements seemed to goad whatever smile out of Hange.
“Are you done?” Hange asked, keeping her voice light, keeping the laugh in them very much apparent.
“How long will you give me?”
“Take as long as you need,” Hange said, The last thing she would have wanted would be for Levi to forget.
“How much will you let me do?”
“We’ll do what you want.”
Levi smirked. “You’re pretty generous tonight.”
“I have one condition.”
Levi raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“After this… after everything we do tonight, I want you to tell me about it. Tell me about everything you see in the dark.”
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heckpup · 4 years ago
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Hmmmmmm Time for the Part 2 of the Immortal Tommy AU I cooked up with my raw materials in the middle of the night
:DDDDDDDDD What fun. I have also now decided that Tommy's new wings are now phoenix style (cause he's immortal now, innit?), in flames, but only at the tips (so far, this will change the older he gets) and only if he wants them to be. Had he still been mortal, they probably would've been just a regular red, and so that is what they look like when they're not on fire.
Also, I'd like to imagine that the old worlds from when we were kids (with borders and that didn't go on forever and just stopped and dropped off into the void, right? I know me and my friends loved to find the corners and try to go through. Good times.) are what the god's personal realms are like. Not enough room for rebellion, since there's not enough room to run from an angry god/goddess. If you go to the edge, you can look at/travel to other worlds as well. Most gods don't bring other people into their worlds anyway, but *shrugs*
Edit: (I can't believe I forgot this I'm so sorry ;-;) TW:Mentions of bl00d, Mention of de@th, mentions of m@n!pulat!0n and g@sl!ght!ng, mentions of t0rture.
Just thought I should mention + explain.
~
"Hey Clara?" Tommy asks from a small tree, letting his feathers move gently in the wind.
"Yes, Tommy?" Clara calls from below, looking up at the young immortal. Tommy glides down to meet her on the ground, and he looks up at her a little sheepishly.
"Do you think that since, well, you know, I'm recovered and shit, I could visit those bitches from the SMP? I kinda just want to, uh, blow up at them, sorta. I just- its a lot of untapped rage and I really just wanna scream at 'em, you know? It's totally ok if you think I shouldn't I mean, you are the biggest man- er, woman- here, just wanted to ask, but uh-"
"Tommy." Clara cuts him off with a small smile, and a bit of mischief and malice (And anger, as well) twinkling in her dark eyes. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Besides," She begins to walk over to the edge of their small world, "they need to understand what they did, and its never good for us immortals to hold grudges over mortals. Could cause some unplanned problems in the far future."
Tommy beams, and Clara begins mentally preparing for the showdown with glee. "Tommy, how do you want to do it?" She asks, inner drama queen squealing.
"Well-" Tommy tells her- "-I really want it to be big and dramtic, you know? Like lightning and thunder, and like things bursting into flame and shit. I could probably do the flames myself, but do you think-" He looks up at her expectantly.
"Of course!" She says, patting his shoulder. "A storm fit for a god. It would be only fitting, of course. I am going to come along, of course. Just in case there are any unexpected developments, like more dramatic effect."
Tommy nods. "Yeah! Those bitches aren't gonna know what hit them! But, do you think you could stay invisible 'n shit for it? I still wanna do this by myself. I don't-" He cuts himself off, feathers ruffling. "I wanna yell and bitch about it, and I want to do this on my own. Like an important milestone on my recovery." Clara nods in agreement.
"Right, right. For the lightning though, is there any houses you want to keep out of harms way? I plan on hitting a lot of houses, just to get people up and moving."
Tommy thinks for a minute. "Uh, maybe hit close to Ranboo's house- he's the black and white hybrid, he's always been pretty nice to me- and Sam and Puffy and BadBoyHalo. Sam put Dream in prison a while ago, and Puffy and BBH gave me some gifts the night before you picked me up. So, they're clear from property damage, but I still want to see them. Defintely break Dream out, I want to yell at him though. Wait, maybe I can break him out, like teleport him away from the prison and show off my new powers and shit- anyway, maybe save Niki as well, she was always nice."
Clara nods and begins to locate the small world that she pulled Tommy from so many years ago. "Goodness!" She laughs. "It's been a while since you looked down at this one, isn't it?"
"Yeah, haven't had much time to think shit about those old bitches." Tommy begins to search with her, quickly locating the small SMP, being recently cleared of the red bloodvines that had plagued it for a while.
While they plan, they laugh, and Clara is reminded of how far the young godling had been when she whisked him away. His old SMP hadn't deserved him, not even for a second.
~
Tommy and Clara were watching from the clouds as the little people in the SMP ran around panicked about the storm that was destroying a lot of their houses. Tommy watched with glee and satisfaction as the majority of the SMP (save for Dream, of course) gathered in the newly rebuilt community house to discuss the looming problem.
"Dream has to be behind this, Sam!" Fundy growled out. "He's the only one that has this kind of power!"
"You ready?" Clara asked Tommy, after waiting for him to be perfectly positioned under one of the next lightning bolts, aimed at one of the doorways to the community house. Tommy nodded and lit the tips of his wings, prepared for the force of the bolt to push him back down to the earth.
The lightning hit, and Tommy found himself being thrown down and pushed to the ground.
The first thing he noticed was that the bolt left little sparks over his body and his wings were a little more lit up than usual.
The second thing he noticed was that everyone in the community house was looking at him.
He stood up and, with a great amount of false confidence, strode into the room. Tubbo was staring slack-jawed, as were most people in the building. Phil's face was incredibly pale, to the point that Tommy actually began to worry about the man's health. Ranboo looked at him wide-eyed, but then Tommy saw recognition flash and a smile began to creep onto his face.
But the person that Tommy had his eyes on the most was the no-longer transparent form of his elder brother, well and alive again.
"What's up, bitches?" Tommy grinned, and suddenly the room was alive with shouts and yelling and holy Prime, Tommy probably should have prepared more for this reaction but he hadn't even known Wilbur was alive but oh, Phil's yelling about how Tommy left him and-
"Tommy, how could you? You've been off to who knows where? Where the fuck have you been? How could you leave us?" Phil's void-black wings ruffled, and Tommy didn't even think before responding,
"I've been off healing, bitch! You know, from all the trauma you adults forced on me? And the gaslighting from Dream? The manipulation? It took me years to get over that shit, and the god's world-time runs slow! I spent a whole fucking year trying to understand that what you bitches put me through was fucking wrong, and I was not alright! I left you all here because you left me when I was at my fucking WORST! YOU LET A SIXTEEN YEAR-OLD FIGHT IN FUCKING WARS AND GET EXILED! YOU EXPECTED ME TO TAKE THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING ADULT? FUCK NO!" Tommy's wings flared out and he could feel the heat radiating off of it, his flames responding to his anger.
"Thomas Minecraft-Innit, I am your father, how dare you-"
"Oh, you're my father now? Now, after you abandoned me, neglected me, left me in the dust? You cared more about your fucking war buddy than your own two sons! Wilbur was more of a father than you were, and then you fucking killed him!"
"Tommy-" Tubbo tried to interject.
"AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU TUBBO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID? YOU LEFT ME AS WELL, YOU LEFT ME WITH FUCKING DREAM! YOU EXILED ME, AND FOR FUCKING WHAT? A SAD POSITION IN A COUNTRY THAT YOU LET DREAM PUPPETEER ANYWAY! WE FOUGHT THAT WAR TO GET AWAY FROM DREAM, AND THEN YOU FUCKING LET HIM RIGHT BACK IN!" Tommy raged, turing on his ex-best friend. "Oh, speaking of-" He snapped his fingers and then Dream was in the room with them, wearing an orange jumpsuit and looking around wildly.
The room let out a great outburst, which, to be fair, was expected.
But then Dream took one look at Tommy and decided that it was a-fucking-okay to try and re-manipulate Tommy again. As if he didn't notice that Tommy was much older, much more healed and much more powerful than before. (Or that could just be him. Clara did tell him that gods- and even godlings- could change their age and appearance, and sometimes it was involuntary and depended on emotions and metal stability. Tommy did actually feel much younger. Maybe it was from being in this place, this world, and being in front of the person that hurt him most. That would make sense.)
"Tommy!" Dream cried with unusual glee. "You're here to help me, aren't you? You finally came to your senses about your best friend, right?" Tommy only raised an eyebrow in response, not giving him an answer. "What, not going to give an answer to your only friend? Tommy, I stayed with you, I kept you company when no one else did, remember?" Prime, how long did Dream think he had been in that prison for?
Tommy only shrugged and then pulled out a sword and dashed up to Dream, keeping the blade on Dream's throat. "You mother fucker. You are the biggest bitch boy I've ever, and I mean ever, had the pleasure of knowing, bitch boy. You are the absolute worst thing to ever happen to me, you know that? You killed me twice, and for what? Gratification of knowing you killed a teenager? And then you tried to gaslight me, manipulate me into doing your sick shit for you? That's the most fucked up thing I've ever known, Dream. I'm going to enjoy taking this life from you." And then he swung, embedding the blade into the wall behind where Dream's body had once been.
TommyInnit killed Dream with [A Final Blow]
Dream made the achievement [Banned?]
"Tommy what-" Tommy turned to look at Technoblade, who was looking blankly at his chatlog.
"Oh, don't worry too much about him. He'll just be stuck for a few days in the ban-void, and then he'll come back on his own." A great number of people paled, knowing the ban void, when you were still on a world, meant that you were subjected to great amounts of agony as your body tore itself apart and tried to pull its code back together. And Tommy had just taken one of Dream's lives, too!
"Tommy, what happened to you?" Phil asked, horrified.
"I grew up," Tommy said with a smile. "And now I have the rest of time to spend continuing to grow and live. Becuase now, Tommy Innit never dies."
Techno rushed at him suddenly, axe swinging. It caught the edge of Tomm'y neck, and Tommy took the chance to grab Techno by the scruff on his, and lift him up, also while feeling his body grow older. Several gasps were heard around the room at the sudden change. "What were you trying to do there, Technoblade? You can't kill a god." And then he let Techno drop to the ground, before touching the part of his neck Techno had sliced.
His hand drew away with golden ichor.
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basically-i-write-shit · 4 years ago
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“No no, I’m not interested in your friends. I want you. Give yourself over, and they’ll be safe.” annnnd... have you written Osamu x Yama at all yet? UshiYama, if you aren't feeling OsaYama. Omegaverse, if you like?
ahhhh I got an osayama prompt before I watched season 4 and then my drafts glitched and deleted before I could actually write it ;-; 
Mafia prompts
One of the perks of having an onigiri shop as a front for your brother’s gang is the fact that no one knows it’s a front- which means, occasionally, when a member of a rival gang comes in, Osamu gets free intel. No one suspects the poor overworked cook/waiter to be listening in on your business. 
It’s not honest work, but it sure is fun. And this way, Osamu doesn’t have to directly get his hands dirty. His brothers’ men do all the hard stuff. Which gives Osamu the time to flirt with the pretty omegas that come through and not have to worry about telling them what his job is- his job is here, at his shop. Being a good cook is always a hit with omegas. However, as of late a certain omega has been coming in that fulfils more than just his instinctual needs. 
The bell at the door rings, but Osamu already knows without looking who’s there- the sweet, enticing scent of candied fruit and raw pastry dough reaches Osamu’s nose before he even turns around. 
“Welcome back, Yamaguchi-kun. The usual?” 
“Ah, not the boys’ order today, actually. Just me.” Yamaguchi says with a shy smile, sliding into one of the hightops nearest the window peering into the kitchen. He smooths down his skirt as he sits, fidgeting with his phone as Osamu turns back to the kitchen, smiling at him through the window. 
“The boys already eat tonight?” 
‘The boys,’ being Yamaguchi’s ‘roommates,’ usually ordered from Onigiri Miya every now and again, and Yamaguchi always came to grab it. They’d been doing this for nearly 8 months, and in that time it’s become glaringly obvious that Yamaguchi was in some way involved with one of ‘Tsumu’s rivals, the Karasuno Crows. How involved was still somewhat a mystery, because sometimes he came in covered in bruises and cuts and other times just fine, almost always well-dressed and never once acting secretive; in fact, Yamaguchi is always quite open with Osamu and talks with him like an old friend every time he comes to visit. He tells Osamu about his ‘boys,’ Kei, Tobio, and Shouyou, and asks about the shop. Talks about work and the weather, and nosy neighborhood aunties who always want to know how he got such a dark bruise, and “thank you so much for not asking, Osamu-san, I just don’t know if I’ll ever be okay talking about it so openly.” 
“Yes, that, and I’m also going straight back to work after I eat. It’s a...rush season, for my job, and we’re pretty understaffed at the moment so I’ve been there all day working.” 
“My my, all day? It’s almost 9:00 Yamaguchi-kun. When will ya be goin’ home for the night?” 
“Ah, probably around midnight or so...The poor guys, they’ve been in the same boat as me- I haven’t seen them in what feels like ages,” Yamaguchi says, pouting, and Osamu chuckles as he rounds the corner with Yamaguchi’s usual order. He sets it on the table before sliding into the chair across from Yamaguchi; he leans against his palms, smiling when Yamaguchi cocks his head to the side, confused. “You don’t have anything to do around the shop? You close soon, don’t you?” 
“I mean, I suppose I do, but I can spare a few minutes t’ chat with my favorite customer while he eats,” Osamu teases ever-so-slightly, and he grins wider when Yamaguchi’s cheeks turn pink. It’s true that it’s a bit odd, him doing this, since he’s almost always kept their conversation distanced between a counter or the kitchen window, but he’s feeling a bit adventurous tonight. And Something tells him this is a good idea. Maybe it’s the faint scent of pre-heat on an already stressed Yamaguchi, or maybe it’s just the fact that he looks almost delectable in that short little skirt, but Osamu wants to be close to him. “Is that all that bad?” 
“N- Not at all, I just didn’t want to keep you,” Yamaguchi says gently. “How was it, today?” 
“Ah. not too busy but it's a Sunday, so not a lot of people are goin’ out.” 
“Must be pretty boring sitting here all day every day, huh?” 
“No, not really,” Osamu hums, watching as Yamaguchi begins to dig in, looking very much like a starving prisoner with how quickly he devours the first onigiri. “I suppose some days get repetitive, but there’s never a dull day here.” 
And that’s the truth. The shop doesn’t get a lot of traffic, so Atsumu or one of his men are usually hanging around- or stumbling in the kitchen, mortally wounded and needing a desperate healing from a barely-first aid certified Osamu. 
“Sorry, still sounds pretty boring to me- if I’m not moving all the time, I get pretty antsy.” Yamaguchi says, still stuffing his mouth. Osamu laughs. 
“I can tell. Ya’d probably be bored if ya were a housewife or somethin’,” 
“Oh, definitely.” Yamaguchi says. He finishes his meal, hopping down from the hightop with a little puff of his skirt. He slaps money on the table, collecting his things. “Thank you for the meal, Osamu-san, but I need to get back to work. I’ll see you around.” 
And, call him stupid, but something tells Osamu not to let him go alone. “W- Wait! Why won’t I walk ya back to yer office?” 
Yamaguchi seems to hesitate, his brows furrowing as he searches Osamu’s face. 
“...Don’t you have to be at the shop?” 
“It’s almost close, and one of the waiters is still here- I’d hate to let an omega walk alone so late, even if I know he c’n talk himself.” Osamu insists, throwing one of his signature smirks Yamaguchi’s way, and he can see the omega’s resolve melting. Yamaguchi sighs. 
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. It’s not far from here, actually,” Yamaguchi says, turning towards the door. Osamu scrambles to follow, throwing his apron over the back counter and shouting to the back that he’s taking a smoke break, despite the fact that he hasn’t smoked a day in his life and Aran wouldn’t care either way where he went- 
Osamu makes conversation with Yamaguchi as they walk, the dim streetlights illuminating Yamaguchi’s curves, and in the near darkness his scent sticks out above all else, distracting Osamu ever the slightest. He doesn’t even notice they’re in the middle of Karasuno territory, even though he should’ve figured they would be, since Yamaguchi works for Karasuno. It isn’t until he’s yawning, stretching his arm over his head, that he realizes he’s maybe made a bad decision- 
“Osamu-san, is that a tattoo? I wanna see,” Yamaguchi says, and suddenly there’s a hand on his arm, holding it in place as another hand lifts the sleeve of his teeshirt to get a better look at the logo printed on Osamu’s shoulder. Osamu freezes, his eyes widening, and the only thought in his mind is, “Oh god, Tsumu’s gonna kill me.” 
“I- uh- it is, but it’s-” 
“...Your shop, it’s a front, isn’t it, Osamu-san?” Yamaguchi asks, his voice low, and his grip tightens impossibly on Osamu’s forearm. Osamu tries to wrench his arm away, to grab Yamaguchi by the hair and drag him off before he can make a fuss, but it’s useless. Yamaguchi is deceptively strong for an omega. “Answer me, Osamu-san. Your shop, it’s a front, yeah? You have gang members hang around, and launder money from your shop?” 
“I- I don’t know what yer talking about, Yamaguchi-kun.” 
“Right, right...” Yamaguchi murmurs, reaching behind him, and Osamu’s heart hammers in his chest when he sees Yamaguchi pull out a pistol. “Y’know, Samu, I don’t like liars. I thought we had a little thing going...” 
“W- We did?” 
“Of course. We’ve been flirting ever since I first came in, didn’t you get the hints?.,Hmph, no matter now. You’re not telling me the truth, and that hurts my feelings, Samu. I’m sure my boys would tell you how much I hate being lied to, though I don’t think now you’ll get to meet them.” 
The tip of the gun slides up Osamu’s chest, up his neck, and Osamu shivers. There’s a reason he works in the shop and doesn’t do any of the dirty work- and this is the exact reason he doesn’t. Fear makes people do some crazy things, and Osamu’s pretty damn scared right now. 
Even still, he won’t sell out his brother. “I’m not gonna tell ya shit about what does or doesn’t happen at my shop. What I do is perfectly legal.” 
“But what your brother, Miya Atsumu, does isn’t. Isn’t that right?” 
Osamu gulps, shuddering when he feels the cool metal of the pistol press against his adam’s apple. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ about. Leave him out of this, leave- leave everyone out of this-” 
“No no, I’m not interested in your friends,” Yamaguchi says, laughing, and Osamu’s mouth falls shut with an audible click. Yamaguchi leans forward, catching Osamu’s chin in his free hand, the other still holding the gun to the junction of his chin and neck. “I want you. Give yourself over, and they’ll be safe.”
Osamu swallows again, his breath thick and shuddering. He can’t believe this is happening. He’s being overpowered and threatened by an omega. What the hell. But he thinks back to Atsumu, and the empire he’s building, and he can’t let that be ruined, can’t let their cover be blown, and so he nods. 
“...Fine. You have me. But I can’t stay forever, I have a shop to run.” 
Yamaguchi grins. “We’ll work something out.” 
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weapon13whitefang · 4 years ago
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Here’s why I, personally, don’t think the Daryl Spoiler is as big of a fucking deal as people are making it out to be.
So it’s all over the fandom by now, Imma just say shit now. If you don’t wanna know, don’t read anymore okay? Sorry not sorry at this point.
For those that don’t know what I’m talking about and want to know, here’s the scoop – This is all told in flashback due to Dog leading Daryl and Carol to a Cabin Daryl recognizes. In the flashback, after the bridge explosion that “killed” Rick, Daryl seems to still be off wandering the woods and searching the water for Rick’s body (As we knew he was).  We don’t know his state of mind or how he’s acting but if this isn’t long after Rick’s “Death” then he’s most likely still in mourning.
Well then Daryl runs into a woman named Leah, which we see a glimpse of this woman in one of the trailers (Which, honestly, is so quick and brief and for a second I thought it was Magna funny enough but annyywayyy), and at first she’s very stand-offish and up in arms against Daryl (understandable, most of the survivors that don’t know each other tend to be hostile/guarded against each other). She seems to realize Daryl isn’t a threat and the two part ways.
We’re give moments of time that show Daryl and Leah keep running into each other as he’s searching for Rick and Leah is doing whatever she is doing. We aren’t specified on how these constant run-ins are played out. We don’t know if Daryl talks to her or she confronts him a lot. We don’t know. We just know that time goes by and that they’ve formed a relationship with each other. We don’t get any specifics, again, besides she’s cooking for him at his camp, they’re snuggles up watching stars together, and apparently there’s a hint that they’re noodling with one another because the. we see Daryl and Leah under a blanket together in front of a fire and she snuggles him closer to her… And we get Dog as a Puppy… Which, does that mean Daryl and Leah found dog together? Or was Dog Leah’s dog and she left him to Daryl? Or what?... Oh well, Puppy Dog! Also… They don’t SHOW Daryl having sex. It’s implied, sure, but anything can look sexually implied with the right lighting and angle. So if they did bump uglies, I don’t know for certain until I get to SEE the episode.
Well, anyway, we then go from snuggles by the fire and puppies to back at the cabin with Leah telling Daryl that he needs to start choosing what he wants because she thinks he’s all over the place… Now, to be fair, it’s kind of always been that Daryl gets dragged all over the place. He’s torn between his loyalty to Rick and finding him, his loyalty to those in Alexandria, and now apparently his whatever relationship with Leah. Well if Daryl says anything to this, I don’t know the spoiler doesn’t say. But he apparently leaves and goes back to his search for Rick’s body before he’s back at the camp. Which leads to a meetup with Carol, who comes by his camp to bring him stuff but also to tell him she isn’t going to be able to visit him anymore because Ezekiel and Henry need her at the Kingdom (which explains a little to why Daryl seemed surprised to see her later on when she and Henry go looking for him). This news seems to settle things for Daryl and he wanders back to the cabin for Leah… But Leah isn’t there. But her shit is still around, so Daryl believes she’ll be back. So he leaves her, basically, a little love note. “I belong here with you. Come find me.” But it’s implied she chose to just leave him, even knowing the routes he takes to look for Rick and how to get to his camp.
So… that’s the big booharah that has everyone shitting themselves and freaking the fuck out… Over what? This is a flashback. FLASHBACK. Something that happened during the missing years of the time jump… This implies Daryl has been out in the woods for YEARS looking for Rick, first of all (Which OMG my fucking heart. Knew this but the confirmation makes my heart want to cry for their brotherly love U3U ). But this whole mess has shown me that… A lot of people would rather have Daryl alone and miserable in the woods than find any form of comfort in someone. He’s lonely for fuck sake! He’s lonely, his best friend said she won’t be coming around anymore, his brother-friend is “Dead”, and he’s not happy back at Alexandria without being able to put Rick to rest but doesn’t wanna be far from them in case they need him… He’s just a lonely guy. And, I’m sorry, but this belief that Daryl needs to be alone for six/seven years… That’s just cruel.
But here’s what is making me laugh. This is OBVIOUSLY a show of character develop for Daryl. About why he is more comfortable with opening up to someone like Connie (this isn’t a ship call out, this is an observation). That Daryl can be open to having a romantic interest when, up until now, he’s been the lone wolf character just floating around everyone. No real settlement to a character (no matter what you all think or wanna say, Daryl was never in-canon called out as being with any character in a romantic way. Can still say the same for Leah to). This was an opening for Daryl to not be alone anymore, because Carol wasn’t gonna be coming around anymore and no one else came out to help him/stay with him. So I don’t blame him for reaching for someone he connected to, even if only briefly. If Daryl is comfortable with you/cares for you in any capacity, he will reach out for you. And whether we like it or not, he got comfortable with Leah. He let her snuggle him, guys. That’s a big sign he was okay with her. Sexy time aside, whatever. He was something with her and she to him and then she was just outty-3000. Which is really sad for him... Someone else he was close to stopped coming around. Like, Damn. Daryl can’t catch a break. Also, let it be noted, he didn’t go chasing her down. He could’ve easily tracked Leah down to stay with her/let her know in person he’s picking her... He didn’t. That tells me a lot. That should tell you all a lot!
Third thing is… This happened IN THE PAST. This means that the Daryl we see that Carol and Henry finds and up until now is still the same Daryl we’ve been seeing. This doesn’t change his narrative. It just adds more layers to him. It shows more growth, That’s great after all those seasons of Daryl having no lines or actions or any growth. It’s downright beautiful to me!
Nothing has changed for Daryl. He’s still the same as he was… Well right now he’s very angry and hurt and fighting with Carol, but he’s in a raw state right now. Remembering something like that then having a recent heart wrenching event be brought back up – the Connie trapped thing – has made Daryl’s hackles rise and he’s lashing out. We know that’s what Daryl does. He bites hard and digs into what makes you upset. Like when he threw the stuff about Beth cutting her wrist at her. He said that to specifically hurt her. Just as he threw the “No… That’s on You. That’s on you because you never know when to stop”. He held back on biting her head off back when the event happened. Which shows a lot of growth from Daryl and a lot of maturity. But he’s raw and upset so he’s digging at her.
This won’t end their friendship. Friends and couples fight all the time. This doesn’t mean they’re finished with each other. For the Carylers out there hissing a fit, these two are raw and broken characters and sometimes two similar characters hurt each other cause they know how to. But that doesn’t mean they hate each other. And I believe Daryl when he said “I aint ever gonna hate you”. He’s just angry and Carol is defensive and that’s not a good combo for anyone together...
For you Bethylers, so what if he fucked someone else? It’s not like Daryl was an actual virgin. Norman said he liked the idea of playing Daryl LIKE a virgin. But I always took that as emotionally. He’s an emotional virgin learning to experience and grow and shy about his feelings and understanding them…. He’s MERLE DIXON’S little brother. He followed Merle around. You think Daryl didn’t fuck around when he and Merle were running around? Look at Season 1 Daryl. That boy was a rough around wild man. Aint no way he never fucked before. Or at least got a blow job. I’m not saying he couldn’t be, but I don’t see Merle letting his brother move about with him without getting fucked/not letting his brother come off as gay (To put it in Merle’s colorful term). Not the way those characters were before S3. Nah.
For the Donnie fans, this just explains why he’s been so easy to open to Connie. He’s had practice letting someone in and being comfortable with the idea of it again. Connie also makes it easy on him by being her adorable and understanding self. Without Daryl’s growth into a previous emotional/physical relationship, I don’t see them connecting as quickly as they did.
I really do not see why this has everyone in a frantic state, Maybe I just look at things differently? Or I just don’t care that much about who Daryl ends up with forever. As long as he’s in a good headspace and happy… Let Daryl Fuck! Let him develop away from the Alexandrian’s and everyone else. Let him develop at all, Jesus…
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Camping double date with Miphlink and the Yiga Husbands??
This is a TERRIBLE idea. Why? Because Kohga loves to live like a king, so camping is something he HATES. Unfortunately, Sooga got to pick the double date idea, and he LOVES camping. So, let's go!
 "We could've gone sunbathing on a beach. Could've even gone to the shores of Zora's domain. But no. You just. Had to pick the FUCKING woods!"
Sooga chuckled as he checked the sturdiness of the tent. Mipha and Link often went on double dates with them(to show their support), and the four of them took turns on where to go. It was Sooga's turn, and he picked a camping date. Not JUST a camping date, but a camping date up on Satori fucking mountain. It meant they had to fucking HIKE. And Kohga was hating EVERY moment of it. It must’ve been obvious, given the fact that Mipha was staying with him as Link and Sooga lead the pack. Sooga was grinning as he walked backwards, clearly not trying to sound giddy.
“Master Kohga, this is a nice change of pace, is it not? The smell of trees, the plentiful resources? It’s lovely. I mean, not as lovely as you, but still lovely.”
“You’re using flirts to keep me from going home.”
“Is it working?”
“...kinda. But don’t push it.”
Sooga nodded. Him and Link were having just a ball during this little trek, and it was JUST because of that, that Kohga wasn’t making him pick him up. Mipha chuckled, lightly nudging Kohga.
“Do be patient. Love is full of that. I’m sure he appreciates being out here.”
“He better, I’m taking all his future turns.”
The climb was slow, exhausting, and Kohga was SO goddamn happy when Sooga and Link started to unpack their things, ready to set up camp. It was near the top of the cliff, and a number of trees decorated the rocky land. Kohga sat down on a log, groaning. Kohga wasn’t in bad shape, but hiking was just AWFUL compared to working out at home. Dirt, animals, all of it just sucked to him. He’d MUCH rather be working out at home (Kohga could name other ways he could work a sweat with Sooga).
“Why THIS spot? There’s BARELY any stable ground, and these trees barely leave us rooms for the tent.”
Sooga nodded as he finally undid all of his prep work.
“It’s true, but this spot is special, I swear. Now, if you’ll excuse us. Link, you first?”
Link nodded, and started to clear the trees and bushes. Not all of them, but enough to give them actual stable land to pitch tents in. Kohga watched as Link and Sooga chopped the trees, tossing them in the corner for firewood. Mipha chuckled as she sat next to Kohga.
“Hey. At least we can watch the boys do a little bit of labor.”
Kohga gave her a bit of a side eye. Mipha was really starting to know him.
“I mean, true, I do like watching cute guys do hard work. Think Sooga’s showing off for me?”
“Absolutely.”
They both shared a bit of a giggle, and immediately Kohga felt just a bit better. Even if a fuck ton of bugs kept hovering around. They both finally finished, pitched their tents (one for each couple, for privacy of course), and Sooga immediately started to make a fire. He was pretty good at it, getting it ready and roaring just when Kohga was starting to lose patience. Sooga patted the dirt from his hands, and walked over, grabbing Kohga’s hand and kissing the back of it.
“I left some food for you in the pack, but I’m going to catch something more...lively. I will come back in a moment.”
He turned to Link, who was already starting to unpack the food bags. 
“Link, keep an eye in my stead. Precious cargo here.”
Sooga walked off to god knows where, and Mipha smiled her precious little smile.
“He loves you very much. I can tell.”
“Yeah yeah. Makin’ me trek all the way up here, all sweaty and shit. He loved me, he would’ve picked an ACTUALLY good trip.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Mipha, I love ya, but stop being right about things.”
Link even seemed to smile about that, bringing a bunch of bananas over to Kohga. At LEAST he packed him something good to eat. Link helped a bit too, going to a nearby tree to pluck some fresh durian fruit. Link gave them both fruit as he tended to the fire, and Kohga SAW that swoon on Mipha’s adorable face.
“Hey, I saw that.”
“Saw what?”
“You swooning over your man, you little minx!”
Mipha stammered, but as Link looked over, shooting her a wink, she knew she had been had, hiding her face in her hand, and trying to hide at Kohga’s side. Kohga laughed, shaking his head.
“You two! Got it SO bad! It’s precious! You two really deserve to be together.”
Mipha peered past her hands, to make sure Link wasn’t looking anymore, before looking back up at Kohga.
“Well thank you. Father appears to think so, as does Sidon. Can I uhm...tell you a secret?”
“Shoot little red.”
Mipha covered the side of her mouth with her palm, keeping her voice low.
“I made Zora armor for Link. I’m planning on giving it to him this week.”
That was Zora lingo for ‘marriage’ essentially, and Kohga nearly jumped off his seat, hands thrown about wildly.
“YOU’RE SERIOUS?!”
The sound of his scream made Link miss his shot, about to shoot a bird for dinner. Upon missing, he turned to scowl rather heavily at Kohga, who muttered an apology. When he turned away, Kohga finally found his heart back in his chest, rather than his throat.
“You’re gonna get MARRIED?”
“I’m planning on it, yes!”
“Mipha, lil’ red, I love you to bits, but you’re SO young! How could you want to get married NOW?”
Mipha turned to look at Link, gently cocking her head in a loving, adoring fashion.
"I'm certain I'll never find another for me. I adore him with all my heart. I want to marry him. Very, very much. Do you...not think it's a good idea?"
"No no! I mean, great that you wanna settle. It's great. I fully support you both. I just...the idea of getting married is weird to me, I guess. But I mean, so long as I get to be the best man."
"That's my brother."
"Okay fair. What about flower girl?"
"Riju."
"Ring bearer?"
"That's Midnight."
Kohga threw his arms in the air, in total disbelief. 
"Who's Midnight?!"
"Link's horse."
"...That's actually super cute."
"Isn't it? If it helps any, you can help me pick my wedding outfit."
"Deal."
They both shook hands, satisfied with the deal. Kohga held onto her hand for a moment, clearing his throat.
"But uh...don't tell Sooga, yeah? He's wedding crazy, and if he hears you're gonna get hitched, he's NOT gonna let me hear the end of it."
"End of what?"
They both turned to see Sooga, carrying an entire honeyvore bear over his shoulder. Kohga should've been surprised by his man carrying a whole ass bear like a sack of flour, but he really wasn't.
"Nothing. See you got dinner."
"I did. I was going for a mountain goat, but this one didn't seem to know how to behave. I trust Link has been taking care of you in my stead?"
"Totally. Cut us up some fruit like a good boy and everything."
Kohga pinched Link's cheek as he came over, eager to show his arms full of freshly killed pigeons. Sooga chuckled, rustling Link's hair.
"Quite the provider you have here, Mipha. Should you two marry, I can assure you'd never go hungry."
Kohga tried not to groan. Marriage ALWAYS came up with his ass. It seemed to make Link a bit nervous too, as his face turned dark, and he went back to tending the fire. Mipha giggled into her palm.
"Thank you, Sooga. That's sweet of you to say. But I'm not looking on proposing here and now, so."
Sooga shrugged as he started to cut through the animal's hide, getting it ready for the flames.
"The future is fickle. Who truly knows?"
There was a smirk in his tone, even Mipha seemed to catch onto it. Kohga rolled his eyes. The idea of marriage was so ridiculous to him. Being tied down to one person forever? Fucking ONE piece of ass forever? Not his thing. But hey, he wasn’t Mipha. He scooted over next to Sooga as soon as he put the meats over the fire.
“Sooga, how much longer till it’s ready, you think?”
Sooga chuckled. His Master LOVED to eat, and while he was no chef, he could cook some good, fresh meat over a campfire. He cut a piece of the meat, showing Kohga just how raw it was.
“It’ll take a good minute, Master. Unless you’d like it raw, then I can serve you a piece now.”
Kohga stuck his nose up at it, and Sooga, for some reason, found his face so charming.
“Who wants to eat raw ass-”
Link snatched the piece from his hand, stuffing it in his mouth. Kohga sighed.
“Right. Link. The guy that will actually eat ANYTHING. You remember the time he just, ate some fucking rocks?”
“I recall, yes. Yet, he makes a VERY good fish pie.”
“Hey. Bad enough we HIKED here, don’t you even bring UP fish.”
Sooga gave a light shake of his head, even as Kohga smacked at his tit. He was lucky he was fine, else Kohga wouldn’t put up with his nonsense. They spent a good moment in idle chit chat (how restoration to kingdoms were, recent training practices, new dishes, the usual stuff you’d talk about with folks you more or less considered family), before Sooga handed Kohga a healthy plate of food. Fried wild greens, and spiced meat skewers (Kohga ALWAYS had Sooga bring goron spices whenever they went out. Kohga put it on EVERYTHING, especially meat). Kohga helped himself, digging into his meal hungrily. Sooga was a shit cook in a modern kitchen, but when it came to spicing and cooking meat out in the wild, Sooga was damn good enough. Juicy insides, and a nice, crispy outside. Him and Link didn’t talk as much, in favor of eating ravenously and enjoying their meals.
“Sooga, you don’t like goron spice?”
“Not especially. I always give my portion to Kohga, who loves it. But I prefer mine lightly salted. And I'm not the only one, it seems."
A raven seemed to trot over to them, eyeing Sooga curiously. It welcomed the slices of meat Sooga tossed its way, and Sooga noticed Kohga’s look of interest.
"Birds always did seem to like me, for whatever reason. Watch."
Sooga brought his hand down, and almost immediately, the bird jumped into his hand, eyeing everyone curiously. Kohga leaned over and lightly poked its head, making it squawk.
"Huh. That's why Revali thinks you're hot."
Sooga shook his head, as if something smelled. 
"I wish you hadn't told me that. Makes me wish birds hated me."
"What if it was Teba?"
Sooga took a moment in hesitation, before lightly nodding.
“I like Teba.”
“EVERYONE likes Teba, can’t say I blame you here.”
Sooga gave the crow another scrap of meat, before motioning for it to leave, which it did, but not before looking back at Sooga once more. Mipha handed her plate to Link (who always ate whatever she couldn’t finish), before softly nodding.
“That’s honestly quite charming. I’m personally really good with fish, though it might be a Zora thing.”
Then the most odd thing happened. Link put his plate down (with food STILL on it), and nearly leapt towards Mipha, clearly excited. She seemed surprised for a moment, before chuckling.
“Oh, you want me to show them, don’t you?”
Link nodded again, wildly. Mipha held onto her head fin, and the spots on her skin seemed to glow, which seemed to glow brightly as the sun soon seemed to die down. 
“Woah. Since when could you do that?”
“Always. It’s made to attract fish, bugs...Hylians.”
Link was just enthralled in her spots, fingers carefully brushing against her skin. She sat there, as flattered and flustered as a young princess could be, while Link just sat there, adoring her like something out of a story book. Sooga looked down at Kohga, who was enthralled with them both. With the moon gracing the sky, now was just as good of a time as any.
“Master Kohga, I think these two need a moment of privacy. Could I...show you something?”
Kohga nodded, quietly helping them sneak away. This somehow ended with Sooga leading Kohga god knows where, covering his mask with his hands.
“Sooga, why can’t I just close my eyes?”
“You peek.”
“I won’t this time! Maybe!”
“Relax, Master Kohga. We’re almost there. Now, be silent.”
Kohga stopped talking, and just trusted Sooga to guide him. He was about to take another step, when Sooga stopped him in his tracks. His voice was in a hushed, low tone.
“Open your eyes.”
Kohga did just that, and couldn’t believe his eyes. Blupees. Blupees , surrounding a lake, littered in cherry tree petals. They all sat there, hopping about, grooming their long, orange feelers. They hadn’t been noticed yet, and it was incredible. Some sipped at the lake water, some seemed to hop amongst the piles of petals. Kohga kept his voice low, in disbelief.
“You...knew they’d be here.”
“I did. This trip was the perfect opportunity to show you something as beautiful as you are. I take it you’ve never seen them up close?”
“No. Only in books. They’re...so different in person.”
Kohga took a step forward, making a branch snap. They thought it had been the end of it, when one of the blupees turned to look at him. But then, it chose not to run. Rather, it hopped right to Kohga, standing on its rear legs and eyeing him curiously. Kohga glanced at Sooga, before looking back towards the creature.
“Thought they were skittish?”
“They’re supposed to be. Unless they consider you not a threat.”
“W-hey! I’m plenty threatening! Go on, get!”
Kohga knelt down and pointed at it, only for it to bump against his hand, and snuggle into it like a stray cat. Kohga grumbled in a mixture of confusion and amazement, before another blupee walked over. Then another. Then another. They all scattered about him, clearly fascinated and eager to rub their little faces against him. It made Kohga fall on his ass, trying not to step on them. Sooga knelt down to him, ever ready to be of assistance. Though, it seemed the only thing his master was in danger of, was getting a permanent scowl. He chuckled.
“I don’t think they find you too threatening. Foolish creatures, honestly.”
“I should be making these bunnies shake in their boots dammit.”
Kohga raised a hand in accusation, before a blupees seemed to fall right into it, desperate for a good petting. Sooga took a small step forward, careful not to spook them, before he clunked his mask against Kohga’s.
“You...never cease to amaze me, Master Kohga. You’re incredible. These creatures thrive on purity. I can only imagine how much of it is in your heart.”
Kohga scoffed, playfully pushing his face away with his hand.
“It’s nothing like that, these things are just dumb. But… this is sweet. YOU’RE sweet. And as much as I hated the hiking, the bugs...this was nice. I don’t ever think I’m going to forget this, Sooga.”
“So I did good for my turn?”
“Good enough to try again, yes. God you’re so dumb and pretty.”
Sooga chuckled. He parted his mask, as well as his master’s, and was about to lean in for a kiss, when suddenly a shadow peered over them. Both of them jumped a bit, scaring a few of the blupees. Kohga stood aghast at the creature, while Sooga looked stiff.
“Is that...the Lord of the Mountain?”
“Yes. Aka, one that brings curses upon the land it walks.”
Sooga brought out his weapon, and aimed it right between its faces. The creature stared at him, before slowly walking past Sooga, and stopping right in front of Kohga. It slowly brought its head down, right into Kohga’s lap. It looked at him with it’s intense, bright eyes. Kohga looked unsure of what to do, before he slowly, carefully, brought his hand right next to his face. Kohga motioned wildly with his free hand, totally in disbelief.
“I’m petting it! I’m THIS cool! Can you SEE this?!”
The Lord seemed comforted by his hand, eyes lidded as Kohga’s hands nestled and scratched at it’s fur. It was brief, but it was enough to leave a lasting impression in Sooga’s mind. The creature pulled away after a moment, before dipping its face into the water, taking a sip. Then it took a step towards Sooga, and promptly spat water at his face. With a snort, and a stomp of it’s hoof, it turned, and started to graze within the water. Sooga turned to look at Kohga, who was trying VERY hard not to laugh.
“Pffft! It spat water at you! Holy CRAP, he does NOT like you!”
Kohga lost it at that point, pointing at Sooga and just losing himself in laughter. He only stopped once Sooga knelt down, and held his hand in his own.
“I’m. So in love with you, you couldn’t even fathom it-”
“This shit again.”
“Say the word and I’d be your husband IMMEDIATELY.”
Kohga groaned, using his other hand to smack his forehead. It wasn’t entirely Sooga’s fault that he was so lovesick though.
Not when the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, got to pet the Lord of the Mountain.
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adarlingwrites · 4 years ago
Text
Absolution
Summary:
noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment
The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.
XIX
January 4, 2278.
Time to look for the GECK.
Percy said that it stands for “Garden of Eden Creation Kit.” It’s supposed to be the thing that’ll make Project Purity work. She knows about it better; there are words she used that I didn’t understand.
There’s one in Vault 87, but that shithole’s irradiated to hell and back. Percy said that it’ll kill her despite the mutation in her genes. She will cook before her body can even recover.
So, we have to go through a place called Lamplight Caverns. It’s on the western side of the map, a long way from Underworld. We’ve been travelling for a few days now. When we finally arrived, it’s cold, and snowing. Good thing Percy went back to Tulip’s shop for some winter clothes before we left the city. Even Dogmeat has a scarf now.
As we arrived in Lamplight, a boy with a rifle shouted at us at the entrance, threatening to fire.
“Hold it right there! Don’t take another step, or we’ll blow your fucking head off!” he shouts at us. Percy holds her hands in the air and looks at me with eyes wide in surprise.
Damn. This kid’s mouth is almost as filthy as Percy’s.
“Whoa, hold on there, I’m a friend,” Percy says to the kid, holding back her laughter.
“You're big, and I don't have any big friends. You better just go out the way you came in,” the kid replies, still pointing his rifle at us.
“Well, it’s time for you to make big friends. I’m Percy, and this is Charon. Our dog’s name is Dogmeat. What’s your name?”
“I'm MacCready. I run Little Lamplight, because they made me the mayor. And I don't like strangers. Or mungos.”
At this point I got curious. “The hell’s a mungo?” I ask him.
“You are, mungo! You adults are tall and clumsy and we don’t want anything to do with you,” MacCready spits back. Percy loses it and giggles.
“Wow, and I thought I was an angry kid. Listen, we just need to get to Vault 87, and the only safe route is through your town. We promise not to bother anyone. So, may we come in? Please?” she asks.
The kid holsters his rifle, and he looks surprised. “What? Why would you wanna do that? That’s where the monsters are,” he tells us, voice low.
“We can get rid of the monsters for you.”
MacCready rolls his eyes. “Sorry, mungo, but we don’t trust you.”
Percy groans at this point, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eye. “How will we get you to trust us?”
“Why would I fucking trust you? I’ve got no reason to. I ain’t gonna let what happened to Penny, Sammy, and Squirrel happen to anyone else, so take a hike. You mungos are nothing but trouble.”
Percy’s eyes are alert. I can almost see the cogs working in her head.  “What happened to your friends?”
“They got caught, by mungos! Slavers from Paradise Falls. I told them to be careful but the stupid kids didn’t listen!”
That is one frustrated kid.
With a conspiring look, Percy turns to me, then back to MacCready.
“What if we save them? We’ve got a bone to pick with those slavers, too.”
MacCready falters. “You’d… you’d do that?”
Percy nudges me.
“Yeah. I’ll unload an entire clip on those bastards who took your friends,” I tell him, and he gives me a grin.
“You’re one scary motherfucker, and those assholes deserve getting shot. Fine, if you bring my friends back, I might let you in.”
“Looks like we have a lot of people to free, Charon.”
What Percy said made me recall our conversation at the museum rooftop days ago.
  January 1, 2278.
It was the start of a new year, and I’m in a better place than the last one.
A kind, beautiful, smoothskin angel  came into my life and purchased my contract from the evil bastard that held it for fifteen years. Under her employment, I’ve experienced liberties I never had, and experienced emotions I’d never thought I will. I’m sitting on the rooftop of the Museum of History, sharing a scotch with her, tasting her breath on my lips.
Life is good, for the first time in centuries.
But she just had to ask that question, didn’t she?
“Don’t you have plans of your own?”
I never had plans of my own. The contract made sure of that. I carry the will of whoever held it. I know I’m supposed to tell her that, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
She’s still waiting for an answer. How will I answer this?
DeLoria was already blackout drunk on a bedroll a few feet away from us with the dog, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him hearing about the conversation I’m having with Percy. I sat in silence beside her, contemplating what kind of answer I shall give her.
“I told you. I’ll stay by your side as long as you will have me.”
Percy is frowning, the same pitying look she gave me in Megaton coming back. I didn’t want to see that. I didn’t need to be pitied.
“None at all? Like, even something small? Like finishing a new book? Anything you want to do?”
I pondered at her questions. Percy is the only employer I had who let me make my own decisions. Come to think of it… I never really thought of the future unless it’s short term, such as planning how we will storm a base full of super mutants, or what will we hunt for dinner. Not until now. There’s no future for me. There is only the contract.
I tell Percy that, and she leans her head on my shoulder.
“I’m not gonna be around forever, big guy. You need a life of your own.”
For some reason, what she said stings.
“If you’re planning to sell my contract in the future, Percy, I will not take it personally. It is my directive to serve who holds it. Should you not need me anymore, I shall understand.”
Percy looks up to me and gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“No, Charon. I’m trying to find a way to free you of your contract. So you can move on.”
Free me?
Of my contract?
Move on?
What the hell is she talking about?
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, miss.”
I haven’t called her ‘miss’ for a while now. I saw her shoulders sag when I called her that, but then, she looked at me with that determined glare.
“Hey, you disobeyed an order. It seems small, but it’s a significant improvement. We can start from there.”
I did?
“If I did, it’s certainly accidental and won’t happen again.”
Percy places a finger against my ruined lips. I felt myself twitch at the smoothness of her skin, sweating from the places where I still had skin. She draws closer. I can smell the scotch, the Abraxo on her clothes, and a scent that was hers alone. Her lips are wet from the scotch, and her eyes bright.
I want to reach out to grab her and claim her lips. But I could not. Should not.
“It didn’t happen while I was holding your contract. It happened when the Talons did. You didn’t kill me even when one of them directly ordered you to.”
Fuck, she’s right. I remember now.
The gravity of the realization felt like a brahmin stepping on my chest.
“Miss...”
“No. Call me Percy. You’re not calling me ‘miss’ again.”
“Percy, this is bad. I disobeyed an order intentionally. I am compromised,” I tell her, reaching for my shotgun, as I’ve been conditioned to do.
“Compromised?” she asks, eyebrow raised.
“My non-obedience could compromise you too. When the others who went under the same training I received are compromised, they are terminated.”
Percy eyes the shotgun in my hands. She jumps to grab it before I can do anything with it and tosses it aside. “No, no, no, let’s get this away from you. No termination is going to happen tonight, or ever.”
“Percy, if I disobeyed an order from them, it means that I can disobey an order from you too.”
She stands up, paces around and throws her hands in the air like she always does when she’s frustrated.
“That’s the point! I don’t want you to just obey me. I don’t want you to be just a bodyguard. I don’t want you to be just a living weapon,” she yells as she walks back to me.
“Percy, sit down. You’ve had enough to drink,” I try to dismiss her, fearing the ideas she’s instilling in my head.
“Stop making me feel like I don’t know what I’m doing! Yes, I sometimes say stupid things and do embarrasing shit when I’m drinking, but this is the most honest and raw you will get me,” she cries.
I relent. I didn’t say a word further.
“We’re not fucking Herbert ‘Daring’ Dashwood and his ghoul manservant Argyle from that cheesy radio drama Three Dog fucking loves to play. You’re not just the ‘Lone Wanderer’s’ sidekick, you’re not just hired muscle, and you’re definitely not just a slave like so many people in the wasteland claiming you to be. You’re you. You’re Charon.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say to her.
“I want you to be free. To take a path of your own. And if you still want to be with me, I want to be in your life not as your boss. I want us to be equals. I want to be your partner.”
Tears are rolling down her cheeks and it’s catching the moonlight. I’m still speechless. She collapses in front of me, on her knees, and she takes my hand.
“Please?”
My mind was blank. I just closed my hand around hers and pulled her closer, her warmth settling against my chest. I dwarfed her as I pressed her closer.
“Percy, angel, even if I wanted to be released from the contract… I’m not sure if we can undo all that conditioning.”
“We’ll take things one step at a time, like we always do,” she says in between sniffles.
Percy removes her PipBoy glove and fishes out my contract, an old piece of paper, yellowed at the edges.
“This stupid thing says that if anyone attempts to destroy your contract, you have to kill them,” she slurs, pointing to a string of text. I’m still learning to read, but I knew the words by heart.
Percy’s finger moves to another line. “And this one says that you must protect this contract with your life.”
I nod at Percy.
“Of course, me attempting to get rid of it will just lead us to killing each other. It’s written in a way that doesn’t let you out of it. Fuck, it doesn’t even have an exit clause for you, but it has one for me.”
“What’s an exit clause?” I ask her, while resting my chin on top of her head.
“It basically invalidates the contract. Here,” she points near the bottom of the paper. “This is where it says that physical violence on my part invalidates my entitlement to the contract.”
“I see.”
“But there’s no such thing for you written here. There’s nothing that can absolve you from it.”
I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t deflate from that statement.
“Which means, this is a choice you have to make for yourself, Charon.”
I gulped.
I didn’t make my own choices. They were made for me. The government made it for me when they signed me up for the indoctrination camp, and it’s been that way for around 200 years. Sure, Percy lets me make my own ones on things like dinner, but nothing this big.
I’ve been having mutinous thoughts ever since the slavers used me as their hunting dog, fifteen years ago. The pleads of the people. The cries of the escaped slaves. I can’t count how many hours of sleep I lost thinking about them. I’m responsible for their misery, because those fucking slavers held my contract.
I remember that security chief in Rivet City, Harkness. The synth who broke free from his masters and assumed a new identity.
How did he do it again?
November 3, 2277.
The trail was getting clearer. Percy was close to discovering the identity of the escaped robot that the arrogant business-type guy in Dr. Li’s lab was looking for. The asshole’s name’s Zimmer, and the robot in question is called AR-23. A woman who introduced herself as a member of the Railroad pleaded for her to stop her investigation, but Percy was insistent in warning the synth.
Percy’s reason was that if Zimmer found someone with a lesser conscience, the robot in question would be blindsided and ripped away from his new life. It’s just like her reasoning when she defended me from the people of Underworld for killing Ahzrukhal.
Percy said she was going to look for a man called Pinkerton in his secret lab that’s only accessible from underwater. Her investigation led her to believing that he was the one who was responsible for helping the synth escape. She had me and the dog wait on the banks of the river, and she dove into the murky water in that environment suit Moira Brown gave her after she irradiated herself for their experiments.
I was worried as fuck. She had no prior experience swimming.
When she re-emerged some time later, Percy, distraught, told me that AR-23 is Harkness.
We rushed to meet him.
When Percy used the recall code on Harkness, he started telling us about the things the escaped synths instilled in him.
Concepts of freedom.
Self-determination.
My friend and I helped him get rid of Zimmer. I remember unloading a shotgun blast through the old man’s stomach. After gifting Percy his beloved plasma rifle, Harkness continued on as normal.
That night, we went to Arlington Library, and it was the first time Percy ever suggested getting rid of the contract.
“Big guy, if Harkness could outgrow his programming, do you think you can defy your contract too?”
I remember grunting at her with annoyance.
“If disobedience is among your concerns, it’s unfounded. I will remain loyal to you as long as you hold my contract.”
Percy tilted her head at me. “That’s not what I- never mind.”
She spent the night scouring for pre-war books about the law.
Now, I see the weight her words and actions carried back then.
She had been planning this all along.
She always wanted to set me free.
“When you’re ready, we’ll get rid of this stupid piece of paper together,” Percy mutters, pulling me away from my thoughts.
I was thankful that she didn’t look up. My eyes were wet.
I blinked the tears away.
“I look forward to it.”
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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years ago
Note
How about fun sex tropes number 3 w sledgefu? 😊
3. sex on a countertop/tabletop/sink because we couldn’t wait to get somewhere with cushions
I wanted to do something with the quarantine, so this is a modern-ish AU. Also, hopefully you like my chosen hard surface! I love Sledgefu but do find it difficult bc the Sledgefu writers in this fandom are … pretty much actual gods.
I loved writing this though, so thanks for the request 😊
* * * * *
Gene was done.
Completely over it.
His classes had been cancelled for the remainder of the semester, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of purposelessness.
“Gene. If ya don’t find somethin’ to do, I’m gonna have to find somethin’ for ya.”
Normally, Snafu’s words would have been suggestive, dirty actually, except that he really was tired of Eugene acting like a Victorian dandy in distress.
He would sit down to read, then stand up with a dramatic sigh as he tossed his book back on the couch. He’d putz around the apartment, opening doors then closing them, like he was looking for something. He’d clean the bathroom, then the bedroom, grumbling all the while about Snafu’s dirty laundry being everywhere but in the hamper, and in Snafu’s defense, it was usually only an errant sock or maybe the shirt that he had just taken off for the day.
Sometimes, Gene would head into the kitchen and start cooking something, only to have some minor step in the recipe go wrong and the entire dish would be tossed in the trash.
That didn’t just annoy Snafu; he hated it. Food was not ever something to be wasted.
So, when Gene started pulling ingredients out of the cupboard, it was Snaf who snapped his book shut with a sigh.
“Stop, Gene,” he commanded while walking into the kitchen.
“You tooold me to find something to do,” Gene whined.
“Not waste food.”
“Fine,” Eugene snapped and began putting the strewn ingredients back into the fridge and the cupboard.
“Put ya overshirt on.”
“Why?” he said, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that made Snafu want to slap him or kiss him—when Gene was difficult like this, he wasn’t sure which option would actually make him feel the best once it was done considering he’d only ever tried the kissing.
Snafu ran a hand through his curls, which were bordering on wild thanks to the quarantine. Eugene had offered to give him a trim, but he had only eyed his boyfriend warily, thanking him, but deciding to wait for the barber to open.
Gene’s hair was longer than usual, too, but it suited him. Snaf loved to run his hands through it, pushing it back from his forehead and just feeling the way the silky, auburn strands fell from his fingertips as he pulled Eugene’s hair up and away from his face.
“Because I asked ya to.”
Gene huffed but made his way to the bedroom. Snafu grabbed a light jacket from one of the hooks near the front door and checked the pocket for the keys to his truck. Reaching back to make sure he had his wallet, he slipped into his shoes and waited for Eugene to emerge.
“Where we goin?”
“I’ll tell ya when we get there.”
Eugene frowned, but Snafu saw something come alive in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen since the first few weeks of the quarantine when Eugene realized that he was locked inside with his boyfriend without anything to do for days and days except make love.
It was wonderful, a damn near divine experience for them both until the days droned on into weeks, then months, and they both began to realize that something like this was going to alter life as they had known it forever.
Gene followed Snafu out of the apartment, doubling back to make sure the door was definitely locked.
They drove in a comfortable silence for the first hour, the radio quietly singing but not much louder than the sound of Snaf’s truck rumbling down the highway.
During the second hour, Gene started getting antsy: shuffling in his seat, resetting his seatbelt only to adjust it again in a few more minutes, opening the glovebox for no reason and shuffling through whatever Snafu had crammed in there.
Maybe this is worse than wastin’ food, Snafu thought as he watched Gene in his peripheral.  
When Eugene adjusted his seatbelt for the third time in a row, Snaf turned his head to look over at him and ended up smiling at the way his hair caught the last rays of the dying sunlight, looking golden at the edges, like a halo on a deeply ripened strawberry.
“Talk to me, Gene. Ain’t dat wha’ we do?” Snafu asked before reluctantly turning his eyes back to the road.
Gene said nothing for several minutes, and Snaf didn’t push; he knew how this worked, how stubborn Eugene Sledge could be.
After two more sighs and another snap of his seatbelt, Gene started talking.
He fumbled through his words at first, restarting his sentences and trailing off with a frustrated, “You know what I mean,” until suddenly, he found the right metaphor for what he was feeling and then he couldn’t stop talking.
Gene talked for the next hour of the trip, talked until his mouth was dry.
But god be damned if he didn’t feel better, like he had just purged himself of a gut full of rotten meat.
“Can we stop at the next gas station? I’m parched,” Gene asked, his voice raspy, but his tone light.  
“I think ‘bout a lotta those things, too,” Snaf said quietly as he slid his hand over to flick the turn signal, the ticking filling the truck in the silence after his statement.
“How—how come you don’t let it . . . eat at you? I feel like I’m just raw with worryin.”
Snafu was quiet for a moment, his eyes checking the rearview and the side mirror as he switched lanes to catch the exit.
“I jus’ figure as long as I’ve got you, nothin’ else really matters. Sounds stupid, don’t it?” Snafu said with a soft laugh.
No—no it was not stupid at all, Eugene thought, realizing he wanted to do nothing other than to kiss Snafu silly for saying the most brilliant thing he had ever heard.
And once the truck was in park, Gene did just that.
He tore off his seatbelt and slid to the center of the truck, almost smacking into Snafu as he turned to see what the hell had gotten into his boyfriend, but he didn’t have to wonder long because Gene planted his lips on him in a searing kiss.  
He pulled on Snafu’s lower lip with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before he tilted his head and thrust his tongue inside, earning a moan of approval from Snafu.
Snafu’s tongue swirled around Gene’s, his mouth open wide, wanting to taste every inch of the man who meant so much to him.
Eugene was almost in Snaf’s lap when Snafu closed their kiss, gently pushing Gene away.
“Thought you was parched?” he panted.
“I am—but I guess not just for soda,” Gene grinned.
Snafu laughed and shook his head. “Come on. We got a long drive back. Let’s get some caffeine.”
Eugene clutched at Snafu’s shoulder. “This is . . . it? We’re not going anywhere?”
“No, cher. I jus’ needed ya to talk to me. Didn’t know how else to get ya to do it.”
Eugene’s face burst into the first genuine smile Snafu had seen in over two weeks.
“You sly sonofagun,” Gene said, still grinning.
“Gotta stay on ma toes with you.”
“I could kiss you.”
“Ya already have.”
“I could kiss you forever.”
“Genie, dat’s all I’m eva gonna need,” Snaf said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Gene’s lips. “Come on—now I’m parched.”
Stocked up with drinks and snacks, the boys began their drive home, this time with Eugene sitting in the middle of the cab, leaning into Snafu’s shoulder as the conversation flowed freely amidst their glances and their laughter that now filled the cab, drowning out the music.
But after a while, it wasn’t enough for Gene to just lean into Snafu; he had started with his hand mid-thigh, an act of sweet affection more than sexual suggestion, but the affectionate gesture shifted quickly to the latter when Gene’s fingers began to flex, crawling up Snafu’s thigh higher and higher until the Cajun’s foot hitched on the gas.
“Wha’chu doin, boo?”
“Touchin’ you.”
“We makin’ poetry now?”
“Pull over ‘n we can sure make somethin,” Gene said, leaning over to capture Snafu’s earlobe between his teeth.
Snafu made a noise in his throat and took the next exit.
“There,” Eugene said, pointing to the sign that signaled a pull off for a nature preserve.
Snafu drove over the winding roads until he found a secluded turnoff, perfectly bottlenecked by tall, bald cypresses. He drove a ways into the clearing, cut the engine, and cracked the window.
“Nice out he—mmf,” Snaf began before he got cut off by a red head in his lap, squeezing between him and the steering column, the horn emitting a short beep, but neither of the boys caring as they kissed, intense and deep, lost in something they both had been badly missing.
“Want you so much. Need you Snaf,” Gene puffed out between kisses.
Snafu pushed Gene back a little, the horn again reminding them of their tight position.
“Think we need more room?”
“Ya gotta get off ma lap first,” Snaf replied with a smirk, giving Gene’s ass a light smack before he wiggled back to the middle seat.
After his feet plopped onto the dirt, Snafu pushed up his seat to pull out the sleeping bag he kept there.
“Gene,” Snaf spoke up before the red head could slide all of the way out of the cab.
He angled his curly head toward the glovebox, and Eugene popped it open, rummaging through it to find the tube of lubricant.
The boys settled in the back of the truck, and it was clear that Eugene needed to take control by the way he was immediately on top of Snafu, and it was clear that Snafu was open to whatever it was Gene needed by the way he was sighing underneath him.  
Popping open Snafu’s jeans, Gene reached in and palmed his hard cock, rubbing and twisting until there was pre-cum slickening his thumb.  
“I wanna fuck you so bad, Snaf. Bury my cock in you.”
“Do it, Gene. Miss ya so much.”
Popping the top off, Gene smeared lubricant on his fingers and crawled back over Snaf, spreading his legs with his knees and quickly working Snaf’s dick and opening with each hand. Eugene quickly jerked Snafu off, his hand flying over Snafu’s hard cock, twisting at the tip just the way he liked until he was spilling hot cum all over his stomach and Gene’s hand.
Before Snafu’s breathing had time to even out, Eugene slickened up his cock with the lube and positioned himself at his entrance, pushing slowly until Snafu breathed, “Fuck me.”
Eugene groaned, low and animalistic, and thrust into Snaf’s heat, both of their eyes squeezing shut at the intensity of the sensation.
“Gene,” he breathed, laying back on his elbows and looking up at the night sky, his throat bared and Eugene’s eyes raked over Snafu’s body, thinking he had never looked sexier.
“You’re beautiful,” Gene breathed as he began to move, slowly, caught up in everything that was Snafu.
Snafu’s cheeks flushed and he was glad it was too dark for Gene to see him blush. Countering the intensity of his own emotions, he bit out, “Tell me ya wan’ more. I know ya wan’ more.”
Eugene moaned and pulled out of Snafu.
“Hands and knees,” he demanded, watching intently as Snafu shot him a toothy grin that Gene could see perfectly under the night sky before he rolled over and got in position.
Gene pressed a kiss to the base of Snafu’s spine before he straightened and brought both hands down on Snafu’s ass, digging his fingers into his cheeks as he pushed into him again, the growl of satisfaction emitting from Snaf spurring Gene to really let go, to fuck him like he needed to fuck him.
Eugene admired the flexing of Snafu’s ass as he pounded into him, both of them groaning out their pleasure to the trees, to the stars, to the night itself until Gene finally felt like he had purpose again.
This man, so open and willing in front of him, was his purpose. How he could have forgotten that, he would never know, so he swore as his hips stuttered to a halt and he came inside of Snafu’s body, swore that he would never forget again.
Gene collapses on top of Snafu, pressing him into the bed of the truck, distracting the discomfort with the kisses he is peppering across every part of his boyfriend that he can reach.
“Wow,” Gene said rolling onto his back and releasing Snafu.
“I’ll fuckin’ say,” Snaf answered, rolling onto his back, too.
“Did I ever tell you you’re the best boyfriend this side of the Mississippi?”
“Only this side?”
“Well, we’re still young,” he joked as Snafu reached out to smack him. “Once this quarantine lets up . . .”  
They both laugh as they shimmy back into their clothes, sliding out of the truck bed and standing in the dewy grass.
“Thank you,” Gene said, pulling Snafu close to him.
“I love ya, Gene. Jus’ want ya to be happy.”
“I am happy. I really, really am.”
And when he leans in to kiss him, Snafu knows that Eugene means it.
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beastlywritings · 4 years ago
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CH 2
Pairing: Eskel/OC (Lae’elan) AFAB NB (but gender doesn’t come into it until later)
Summary: After having a rough night of ignoring desire, Eskel is convinced to let Lae’elan tag along. She shows she’s worth the pains and adorable to boot. 
Rating for this chapter: PG-13 for sexual innuendo and suggested sexual acts, as well as talk of masturbation TW (this chapter): manipulation, self consciousness about scars and appearance,  eating fish raw, sexual thoughts of another person and feeling icky about it, masturbation mention, cruel self-talk, gratuitous use of italics for thoughts
AN: betaed only for grammar and spelling, but not content. If you wanna gimme some concrit, I’d be grateful; this is my first time posting fic in years and I’m rusty as hell. Hold on to your pants, kids, this whole fic is gonna be a saga. Also I know Lan is a mary-sue. I’m well aware. Deal with it. She’s bits and pieces of me and my ideal self. 
Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Eye ones were custom, swirls were premade. Go visit them! Awesome work. 
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Eskel brought himself back to the world an hour before sunrise proper. The urge to just run and avoid the shapeshifter flitted through his mind as he looked across the banked firepit at her sleeping, thankfully humanoid, form. He shook the thought away, running a hand through his hair. No, she’d been nothing but kind and good conversation; she deserved a good-bye at the very least. 
Don’t run from a good thing like Wolf did, he scolded himself. She wanted to stay with him. Why, he had no clue. Surely he wasn’t that good of a conversation partner, he reiterated his thoughts from the night before. 
Leaving the clearing and walking a few paces, Eskel moved behind a bush to relieve himself. He considered how quickly he was adapting to having a campmate that was not one of his brothers. He’d immediately offered to hunt for her, had done his best to entertain her, and now he was not only leaving the clearing to piss, but also hiding himself from her potential gaze to preserve modesty while he had his dick out. It had been shockingly easy. He remembered Geralt complaining at how annoying it had been to get accustomed to camping with Jaskier. 
Don’t get used to it. She’ll leave you soon enough. Her proposal. What was he going to say? She’ll want an answer soon as she wakes, no doubt. What could she possibly want tagging along. Must have some ulterior motive.
But what if she doesn’t? What if she only wants some companionship like she says? What then? Do I want someone trailing along beside me? He made his way back, head more full of questions than when he left. 
Rummaging through the saddlebags slung over a hefty branch to find the jerky he’d stashed, he considered his next move. 
Last night was nice, he conceded, breaking his fast. He watched her for a minute, her breaths even and the rise and fall of her chest calming. I’ll ask what she’s after. Besides, she’s not like Jaskier; can probably hold her own, protect herself. He realized he’d just argued in her favor. Wiping a hand down his face, he wondered if this was how Geralt had felt like in Dol Blathanna all those years ago. 
A rustle, and an uptick in heart rate and breathing. Eskel would get his answers soon enough; Lae’elan was waking. 
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She roused with a large yawn, not bothering to cover her mouth with its curling tongue and sharp teeth. Blearily, she noticed Eskel looking at her, arms crossed as he stood leant against a tree. 
“Mornin’ Eskel,” she smiled, rubbing her eyes before shaking her head like a dog. Her long ears made a plap plap plap noise as they bent and slapped against her head. She looked much more alert now. 
“Mmmm there, that’s more like it,” she said, getting to her feet, “So did you think about my offer?” she asked, stretching out her back with arms over her head. Eskel watched her and hummed. 
“And your answer?” she asked, rolling her eyes fondly. 
“What do you want tagging along with a witcher?” She sighed at his question as he eyed her suspiciously. 
“I come out of nature every so often, typically for a single day to get my fill of actual conversation. Normally,” she said, taking a few steps towards him and crossing her own arms, “I’m stuck talking to closed-minded humans about mundane shit and politics,” she winced at the word with obvious distaste, “Normally, I have to hide what I am. Normally, I’m sick of humanity after just a few hours and I fuck back off to wander the woods as a creature. You, Eskel, you’re interesting, I can be myself, and, most of all, you’re kind,” she finished, shrugging. He narrowed his eyes further. 
“Look, I’m not saying I want to stick to you forever like your brother’s bard; I’ll get sick of having hands and human niceties just as I always do,” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis. Eskel couldn’t stop the snort that escaped at that. “I’m just intrigued that I don’t find myself sick of them yet. That hasn’t happened in quite some time,”
“You know travelling with me would be dangerous. I don’t skate around the monsters; I head straight for them. And you’d be expected to pull your weight.” She laughed, tilting her head back. 
“Monsters don’t scare me, witcher. I’m sure I’ve likely killed almost as many as you and without getting paid. And it would be no more dangerous than my normal existence,” she chuckled, coming closer again. She noted that Eskel straightened up a bit. “And like last night, I wouldn’t dream of mooching. You’d be surprised at how much I can do for you. I’m a shite cook, but I can hunt bigger game much easier than you in a quarter of the time, and find roughage on top of that. Could keep you well fed. I can mend and embroider passably if you supply materials. I can keep watch if needs be, act as a nursemaid if you get hurt, and hell, if you wanted a break I could probably either help with big hunts or just outright do your small contracts for you. You can even keep the coin; I’ve no need for it, that’s for sure,” she finished, making sure to leave out the option of being his bedwarmer as well. She didn’t want to push too much after last night. 
“Sounds too good to be true,” Eskel pushed himself off the tree, “Means it most likely is. What’s in it for you?” he jutted his chin out at her. 
“Companionship from the first interesting person I’ve met in years, a little extra adventure…” she said. Eventually the information I’ve been searching for my whole life over, she thought. Ah fuck, she couldn’t help it. “And honestly, there are a few other benefits,” she smirked, eyeing him up and down. She hoped that the flirting covered up the lurch in her heart beat. “What can I say, you’re eye candy, and I don’t deny myself looking at pretty things,” she hummed. His nostrils flared, but not in anger. He was scenting her. She knew herself well enough to know he smelled the faint traces of lust coming off her. She was banking on it. He looked conflicted. Fuck, too far? she questioned herself.
“You keep… What’s so--” he grunted, frustrated with himself, with his difficulty voicing his thoughts. “Fine,” he sighed, “You can come with me, but I warn you, I bump elbows with humans quite often. Towns and cities alike.” He looked her up and down, still trying to figure her out, assessing her. 
“And at those junctures you’ll either be rid of me, or I can keep your horse company in the stable. I make a fine barn cat,” she smiled, approaching the big black warhorse. 
“Wait! He--” Eskel put out a hand to stop her, but she held her own towards Scorpion and he came sedately to her hand to be pet. Eskel was shocked. He barely let stableboys pet him after taking care of him for a few days. Lae’elan chuckled. 
“Another thing about me?” she said, petting down the stallion’s face, “Is that all animals love me.” Scorpion snorted, demanding more nose pets. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Eskel’s head tilt and his brows pull together, confused and bewildered. It was clear he’d been expecting a violent reaction.
“He-- He never-- He hates being pet by strangers. Can’t count how many times he’s bit stableboys,” he muttered. 
“With me, you’ll never be bothered by another wolf pack, bull moose, or rutting elk again,” she hummed, continuing her petting session but looking straight at Eskel. 
“Can you…”
“Talk to them? In a manner of speaking. I more… mentally order and they either acquiesce or get ornery before eventually giving in. Some creatures are more… suggestable,” she sighed, trying to collect thoughts in a sensical manner, “If you mean actually having a conversation.... Most animals communicate with body language. If I have the same body, I can speak their own tongue directly at them, easy. In a humanoid form, less so. I can alter my vocal chords for certain things that have more vocal elements of communication, like that crow last night, and for howling to wolves, and a few others. I sat my ass down and learned the vocal parts of the language fully for those.” Scorpion nipped at her hair and tugged and she laughed brightly. 
“Cheeky!” she hummed, petting him, “I think someone’s ready to go if you are.” She blew a raspberry at the horse and he knocked her with his massive head. She even allowed herself to be moved. 
At that, Eskel began loading up his horse, shaking his head in disbelievement. 
“So,” she began, “Where to?” They’d been on the road, walking in relative silence for a bit. Eskel eyed her paws from where he sat astride Scorpion.
“Nowhere in particular. Next town’s a few days away; check the notice board there,” He glanced down again. She was still very much not human. 
“You’re staring. Don’t worry, I’ll change as soon as I hear anyone coming,” she smiled up at him, “You don’t need to worry about me. No one’s caught me in decades. I’m careful,”
“Hence the stalking me for a day,” he joked, smiling. It wasn’t particularly comforting that she had been caught, period, but he supposed he was careful and had gotten ambushed all the same in the past.
“There’s your sense of humor! Knew you had one!” She kidded. Eskel smiled a tiny bit more at her jabbing back. “But yes, I’d rather not get hunted down and caged for a menagerie or a mage’s whims, so caution is my code.” His small smile made Lae’elan’s even brighter. She couldn’t help it; it was such a cute smile, and a good look on him. 
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Eskel was amazed at how well she kept up with him, walking alongside the horse. She never seemed to get out of breath or slow, keeping perfect pace, her paws propelling her along quickly. She was sweating a fair bit, but then again, he was sweating some as well despite not exerting himself.
And she was alert and adept as she led on, too. She’d put a hand on his leg in the stirrup suddenly and he watched as she shifted, the horns and ears melding into a human form, her eyes dulling to a whiskey brown. Her paws turned to normal human feet, the toes peeking out from under the dress when she walked from his perspective. Others would likely see her whole foot, the skirt landing at about ankle height. The sight was discomfiting, though he couldn’t place why exactly. 
“What--”
“People. A cart,” she said, under her breath. He listened, but didn’t hear anything; the place where she’d touched him felt like it was buzzing. He realized it had been the first time she’d touched him. A few seconds and he heard them, the humans on a cart, from around the bend. 
Her hearing is better than mine, he realized, surprised. She was silent, not looking in their direction, only straight ahead. The merchants scowled at him as they passed each other, Eskel steering his single horse closer to the shoulder. He knew they could both hear the slurs and spitting coming from the occupants. He watched her, and saw she didn’t react until they were past, and only then a hardening of the eyes. Once they were a few minutes behind them, and they made no signs of following them, Lae’elan shifted back. Again, watching the change so closely made him uneasy, making his eyes ache as if he’d been staring at a book for hours.
“Try not to watch so much,” she suggested, catching him blink a few times, “Give you a headache if you watch too closely.”
At around noon, Eskel began to pull over into the trees at the side of the road. Dismounting, he asked,
“Don’t suppose those ears of yours hear water?” He couldn’t hear any himself. 
“Mmmm,” she hummed, listening for a second before pointing forward and to the right a bit. “Yep, not much, but there’s a trickle that-a-way,” Eskel looked a bit skeptically in the direction she pointed, and, focusing, he couldn’t hear the breathing or shifting of bandits, and so found no reason to doubt her. After a minute of leading Scorpion into the woods, he began hearing the sounds of water as well. 
They found it was a runoff from uphill, barely trickling down from a recent rain. Eskel was glad they’d filled canteens from the stream Lae’elan had found last night before they’d moved on, and that it wasn’t so hot that they’d drank much at all. The water was gritty with sandy dirt, but clean enough for the horse as he bent his head to drink. Eskel drank a bit, but elected to not waste time trying to refill the little space in his canteen. 
“Have to keep our ears out as we go along,” he grunted, standing. The shapeshifter was sipping, mouth to the water rather than using her hands, when the wind changed. Her head snapped up and a wide smile lit up her face. 
“What’s your opinion on raspberries?”
“Why?”
“You can’t smell ‘em?” she asked. He gave her a blank look. “Damn, alright, wait here. I’m gonna go get us some lunch,” she laughed, skipping off into the trees. 
Eskel laid back in the shade and watched the clouds, waiting. It couldn’t hurt; they were making good time. A few minutes later, he turned to the sound of twigs snapping and reached for his swords before stopping. He was getting to know her pleased giggle quite well, he realized as the shapeshifter broke through the cover of the trees. She was still in her base form, her dress pulled up to the length that would be mid-thigh level on a human to create a pouch. The pocket of fabric was heavy, laden with berries. Her fingers and lips, he noticed with a chuckle, were stained red and purple. He focused on that rather than the fact that he was rather close to seeing too much of her for his comfort. 
“Found some blackberries, too!” she said, sounding pleased as punch, “Here, help yourself! As you can see, I had a few already,” She hummed and plopped down next to him, thankfully obscuring her legs beneath the rest of her dress. 
“Quite a haul,” he noted, smiling as he took a handful of the black berries. Popping a few in his mouth, the tart-sweet taste burst on his tongue. They were warm from the sun. He hummed in enjoyment. 
“Raspberries are my favorite,” she admitted, shovelling a handful of the red fruit into her mouth and grinned, chewing, “Didn’t have breakfast like an idiot, so a roadsnack was overdue.”
“There’s no way you’re gonna eat all of those,” he shook his head, “You’ll make yourself sick,”
“You’d be surprised. Takes a lot to fill me completely. This,” she said, circling a finger around her hoard of fruit, “I can put away no problem.” She hoped he caught the double entendre. “I can eat half a deer in one sitting [i]easy.[/i] Both halves if I haven’t eaten in a day. But I did get a bunch of them for you, too. Wasn’t sure how much you could put away,” she shrugged, popping back another handful of mixed berries. Eskel was careful to take mostly blackberries, and found himself a little embarrassed at the realization he was leaving her favorites for her. 
They finished the berries, to Eskel’s surprise, and he found himself pleasantly more full than he normally would be, but not overfull. He’d eaten quite well in the past day. Maybe she is a good idea, afterall, he mused, looking down at his companion, who smiled up at him, one eye closed to the sun’s glare. Eskel felt his gut clench, pleased. Or maybe not. Taglist: @its--fandom--darling​
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kinkymagnus · 5 years ago
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hmm let's talk more about twi Malec, like there's just so many endless possibilities
any specifics? no? just kidding, you can’t respond, this is an ask! okay, i’m just gonna throw some random twi malec shit out here then
twi magnus…..hes soft. but also. i feel like since he’s got more Repression™ than canon magnus he’s like WAY WILDER. 
canon magnus a few months into them boning: hey alexander wanna tie me up? ;) 
twi magnus a few months into them boning: hey so i have potion that will give you magical tentacles to tie me up and fuck me with?
(obviously this isn’t just out of nowhere or anything but im saying while they’re both kinky twi magnus is surprisingly a little more shameless when it comes to sex things.) 
twi alec. is HORNY. so horny. canon alec? pretty horny. twi alec? MAXIMUM HORNY. good thing, too, because twi magnus hasn’t been fucked in a few centuries and that has BUILT UP. 
they bone a LOT 
also imagine: twi alec and shitty one-liners/pick-up lines and bad jokes
twi alec says, completely deadpan, “want me to take you to the Bone Zone?” and twi magnus first is like “i am, frankly, horrified and disgusted” but can’t stop himself from laughing (especially once alec is laughing at the cute little face he makes with the scrunchy nose, and it’s so contagious magnus can’t help but laugh too) 
i have a line in one of my twi fics where magnus basically says something like (jokingly/playfully!) “you’re pretty full of yourself, huh?” and alec responds “how you’d like to be full of me, too?” and magnus giggles and it’s ADORABLE AND THAT LINE IS JUST SO FUCKING TWI MALEC TO ME OKAY?
also twi magnus is not innocent of pun crimes. no magnus is innocent of pun crimes. 
twi magnus: [makes a cute bad pun] [wiggles eyebrow a bit] 
twi alec: that was terrible. that was a real stinker. what the fuck.
twi magnus, every goddamn time: gonna PUNish me? ;D
twi alec can and will cook breakfast in bed for his boyfriend
magnus, sleepily blinking: hng? 
alec, with pancakes and eggs and bacon and freshly squeezed orange juice: hey babe :) decided to surprise you :) it’s “i love my boyfriend” day
magnus, still half asleep: ufck did iforget something i dont have anytihnf oryoutgfckkk
alec: oh no babe “i love my boyfriend” day is every day because i always lvoe you and i just decided to do something nice for you :)
magnus: did the dream about wearing acid washed jeans keep you up again?
alec, shuddering: they’re so ugly
okay but seriously he’d totally just be sappy and make magnus breakfast and stuff
and magnus is like “i can make u a sweet dreams potion?”
MAGIC REVEAL does not get TALKED ABOUT ENOUGH. STILL. 
possibility one: alec walks in on magnus making a bunch of chores do themselves fantasia style and is like. uh. what the FUCK. and all the dishes drop to the floor and magnus honestly looks so SCARED that alec’s heart breaks a little even tho he’s also trying to process how confused he is and magnus stutters out something about not being a monster and may or not may not be descending into a panic attack because he’d been so careful for so long not to reveal the truth to ANYONE, only like three people know who and what he is that he actually talks to in the world and a mundane finding out is not good much less his wonderful boyfriend who’ll LEAVE HIM and HATE HIM and he’s–he’s–and alec’s like. oh fuck that. and hugs him like hey it’s okay i’m really confused and i hope you explain later but you could literally never be a monster, especially not for floating some dishes,
possibility two: magnus, scared shitless, tells him, but alec always knew. i love this shit. alec’s just like “babe. babe you weren’t subtle.” because magnus has got a lot of really powerful magic and he’s only jst learning to control it again and it’s waking up, like having a foot that’s been asleep for a long time waking up except if the foot changed the color of the wallpaper when it sneezed and glowed when it was happy. this metaphor broke down. you get the idea. 
there are more possibilities but im tired
ok but when magnus’s magic is revealed. magnus is like. 1. ecstatic to give alec lots of little magical gifts like a little enchanted pendant with protective charms and a magic candy (like a chocolate frog, just a fun little thing that would make him laugh) and the sweet dreams potion and so on. 2. kind of expecting like. he’s more than willing to give, but he kind of lowkey expects alec to like. expect it. to expect magical solutions to his problems. magnus can do the dishes with a wave of his hand, he kind of expects to do the dishes every time now that alec knows he can do that. but alec’s like “what are you doing” “…magic? we’ve gone over this” “yeah but it’s my turn” and magnus is like “i can just do it with a wave of my hand” and alec’s like “you think i dont notice how you collapse in my arms for cuddling and end up dozing off every time? it takes energy. and even if it didn’t we still share the workload even if you can do something easier you don’t have to do everything for me” and magnus is lik,,e,,e,,e,e??? oh. 
like alec appreciates him and is so loving and wonderful and thankful for things magnus does give him but he doesn’t let magnus indulge in the tendency to put everyone else first and take on all the work? he doesn’t take magnus’s magic for granted? 
it’s great
nsfw detour!!! 
twi magnus gets RAWED
u kno how i said that twi magnus is horny and wild? and also lonely and has not had a good hard fuck in possibly over a century? 
magnus has an extensive toy collection.
many, many dildos and vibrators. nipple clamps, magic toys that can fuck him or tie him up… and it’s like all different sizes, types, materials, uses… some costumes and stuff that he bought for himself because they make him feel good/pretty but he doesn’t wear that often because it feels shameful or weird to do by himself.
alec definitely teases him senseless. ties him up and presses the vibrator to his clit until he’s crying, rolling it around and applying pressure and then taking it away again, stimulating his whole clit without mercy
or those. i dont know what they’re called, they suck (literally, not as in “this is bad/this sucks”) and make ur clit/nipples get swollen and sensitive? yes.
fuck his pussy AND ass with various dildos and toys of different sizes and shapes :)) 
sometimes at the same time :))))) 
y’all alec recording him or taking pictures. making him feel so deliciously exposed and watched. amazing and iconic 
also: public sex. twi malec can have fun too
it’s not right away, i feel like twi magnus would be more into things like overstimulation and getting recorded than being fucked in front of people. he still loves the latter, don’t get me wrong, but it’s more canon magnus’s thing? he’s more used to like… showing off ;)
but when magnus does feel confident enough to try that (baby steps–alec groping/teasing him in public, maybe fooling around in a vip booth at pandemonium or its equivalent, until he’s ready to be fucked properly and god once he is, once he lets go, it’s so amazing
he’s used to hiding, hiding under layers both literal and metaphorical, and here he is totally exposed and vulnerable but 1. he’s being taken care of and he’s safe and alec is just making him feel so good, kind of like, forcing himself to express how good he feels and not hide it, making him scream and cry and beg and love it, 2. he’s just? being admired? worshiped? there is nothing demeaning about this, it couldn’t be further from it, he’s exposed and people are fucking basking in it. he looks beautiful, he looks goddamn stunning, he looks fucking amazing and everyone wants to watch and touch and alec’s there holding him and loving him,,, aAAHHh
twi alec becomes immortal, no one can change my mind.
twi magnus: i love you but……i’m…i’m immortal
twi alec: oh. that…. ok.twi magnus, sad: it’s okay… i understand if you want to l–twi alec: become immortal to be with you? oh good i know it’s kind of a dedication considering i haven’t even proposed to you yet–twi magnus: yet? wait-
obviously twi alec doesn’t just completely jump into this with no consideration but look. look. he loves magnus so much, and anyway, it’s not like immortality doesn’t hold any appeal for him anyway. yeah, he knows it’s harder than it sounds, but like, there’s so much potential in things he could learn and do and see, and he could do it all WITH THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE. he could NOT leave him behind when he’s been left so many times before. he has hesitations, but like, in the end he chooses immortality and he doesn’t ever regret it
it’s like that stardust quote. “ I imagine [immortality] would be kind of lonely. Well, maybe if you had someone to share it with. Someone you loved. Then it might be different.” LDKJFLKGJHG YEAH BITCH THAT’S MALEC
also angst: magnus is like. at first. actually against the idea. and alec’s kinda like. hurt/confused/upset. and then magnus explains that if alec’s mortal, magnus will lose him to death–maybe sooner if alec leaves him, but it’s like a letting go thing, it’s inevitable. but if he’s immortal? all of magnus’s immortal lovers… they get tired of him. they get bored. they get annoyed. they stay with him, maybe they’re even in love, for a few years, or if he’s lucky, decades. but eventually they always leave. they drift apart first, they might suggest seeing other people. but they always leave. if alec’s mortal, his leaving is inevitable even tho it will break magnus’s heart. if he’s immortal, then it will inevitably be a choice, and it will shatter him all the more.
of course, magnus wouldn’t stop him even if he was very staunchly against it, it’s alec’s life, but like. he’s worried.
and worse, it’s not just that, but like. once alec grows tired of him, because he will, everyone does, once alec decides he made the wrong choice… he can’t take it back. if it’s soon enough, all his friends and family will be old, and he’ll be forever young, even if he is able to become mortal again it won’t be the same. and if it’s later, they’ll all be dead. magnus doesn’t doubt his ability to make new friends, of course, but the idea of alec regretting his choice, leaving him and being alone or feeling alone, of alec being out in the world lasting forever because of him, cursed with that same lonely immortality magnus has? that thought hurts more than anything, causing alec his type of pain.
so alec is like. no. NO. what the fuck i’m not. i’m not going to grow SICK of you, i’d never be tired of you, or–bored? REALLY? of you? what the fuck. your past lovers suck.
to be clear not every single one of magnus’s exes suck, but they all did leave him in some shape way or form, or else they wouldn’t be exes. you feel. i mean, he’s still friends with dot but it’s been centuries and we dont know what happened between then and now? idk man let me have that angst ok
eventually alec can convince magnus that he’s not leaving and he loves magnus and it’s okay but that little doubt niggles at the back of his head you know? 
on their hundred year anniversary alec kisses him senseless and says “still not bored of you”
same with every other anniversary, but especially the big century ones
they don’t ever break up. they have fights, some worse than others, it’s not perfect, but they always find their way back to each other and communicate and mend their wounds
twi malec cuddling during thunderstorms, thank you.
magnus curled in alec’s arms, face buried in his shoulder
alec’s arms around him
yes
ok but look. twi alec being social media savvy. 
(note: i have never used instagram and i am MAKING SHIT UP.)
alec with an instagram. he’s out here taking pictures of his sweet adorable boyfriend. he’s got a decent number of followers but it goes up a LOT when he starts dating magnus because holy shit who’s this cutie? and then someone finds those god-awful cringey commercials that i still insist magnus made on a dare he lost PLEASE he’s a dork but REALLY?, and they’re like WAIT THIS IS THAT PSYCHIC GUY FROM THE MEME COMMERCIAL WOW HE’S DORKY CUTE AND HOT? and magnus is like (hides face) oh my god
why does this make me think of a twi malec youtuber au–no no no NOT RIGHT NOW
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taurusjaehyun · 6 years ago
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change // j.jh
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♦️ Pairing: jaehyun x fem reader
♦️ Other Members/ Characters: Yeri from Red Velvet, Haerin (oc), Taeyong [mentioned], Johnny and his wife, Saera (oc) [mentioned]
♦️ Genre: angst, single dad jaehyun, bff au, unrequited love au
♦️ Warnings: grab a tissue ig?? Also, mentions of bisexual Jaehyun
♦️ Word count: 2,601
♦️ Story: You’ve known Jung Jaehyun for all of his life and you did everything together until you were older. After his girlfriend had left him and their new born baby alone in college, it was only natural you’d take the role of his daughter’s mother, like how he said he was the father of your son, Clark, a chow-chow, growing up. You’ve been playing house for years now but he’s starting to change and you don’t know what to feel about it.
 Note: I’m uploading everything I’ve written since forever before I write new ones so I can fill up this blog with scenarios. Also, for some reason, I was hooked on writing with babies and children in stories years ago LMAOOOO so yeah, the last scenario I posted was Jaehyun with an unknown daughter lol Anyways, tell me what u think after. I don’t bite and I’d like to be friends! 
You should have known when the ‘signs’ started to show almost 3 months ago. He was more distant, less focused when you were having conversations. He became distracted and closed up until it went to him completely not saying things he always used to say. The skin ship was less to none, the banter wasn't there, the affection was declining, and the warmth in his eyes was getting running out. In a blink of an eye, the person you knew for years wasn't there anymore.
 He was slowly turning different.
 It became worse when he'd often sleep out without telling you and returning home early in the morning for appearances sake for Haerin. If he did stay, he would sleep beside Haerin. Well, before, he would sleep beside Haerin but then he'd start to sleep in the living room, leaving just as soon Haerin left for school. You barely made conversation then. Video calls and phone calls were close to none and texts were scarce.
 But to his credit, he was still an amazing father to Haerin. He often took Haerin out, excluding you but it was understandable because you were also very busy because you started to work on personal cases that took more of your time than usual. It was a career step but you made sure to do everything for Jaehyun and Haerin. Upon seeing that Jaehyun was becoming distant, you had worked on becoming closer to him but he seemed to shut you out. You'd cook his favorite food, buy his favorite snacks, play his favorite songs and did whatever you knew would please him, even going as far as letting him 'suck' on your boobs which was his favorite. He used the same joking tone you used on him but he rejected you, laughing.
 And the reason was, he finally let you meet her: Yeri.
 You first met her when he decided to take you out to a fancy dinner. It hadn’t happened in a long time. Jaehyun had texted you saying that you were going to have dinner somewhere fancy so he asked you to dress up. You were so excited that a permanent smile was etched on your face after he had texted you. Haerin was also happy, knowing that you, her Mom was happy.
 You had dropped Haerin off at Johnny and Saera's place for the mean time. You were so happy and excited that your uber driver even told you and complimented you. You had started to chat with the old man until you reached the hotel with Jaehyun at the entrance, waiting for you. Jaehyun gave you a brief and awkward hug but you paid no mind, wanting to make this a good memory. You wanted to say you missed him since it had been a while since you actually had a proper conversation together.
 The bliss you felt in his company was quickly replaced with disappointment when she had shown up. Yeri was beautiful. She was definitely one of the most beautiful women he’d let you meet throughout the years (all the girls he dated were gorgeous anyways). She had white, milky, smooth skin, big boobs, a cute smile, twinkling eyes and everything that he described when you had asked his type back in the days. Yeri was literally the woman of his dreams.
 But then you also remembered that back then, he had dismissed the thought of dating. Even as far as saying that you would have to stay with them until Haerin was 30. Only then, he would settle down with a woman. It was such a vivid memory embedded in your brain. You comforted yourself by those thoughts, knowing he would keep his word like he always did.
 You felt a pang in your chest when Jaehyun had introduced Yeri as his girlfriend. Yeri then introduced herself to you and her first impression was excellent. It was obvious why Jaehyun fell for her, honestly. She was intelligent, born into a rich and prominent family, beautiful and practically perfect in every way. She was classy, her speaking voice was even beautiful, her words were tasteful, her laugh was flowy and melodious, a great contrast to your dog like barking laughter that Jaehyun was probably sick of hearing. Yeri was practically perfect in every way. And looking at the way Jaehyun looked at her, you could clearly see that he adored her because that was how he looked at Haerin.
 You admittedly couldn't join in their conversation. Even if you wanted to share your thoughts, it was like whatever you’d say wouldn't matter so you found yourself speaking when you were was being spoken to, which was totally unlike you. But of course, Jaehyun didn’t notice, as he was too deep into Yeri’s gaze.
 "You've been friends with Jaehyun for so long! Tell me more about him, please. I'd love to know more about my boyfriend from another person's perspective." Jaehyun looked embarrassed but he let Yeri do whatever to himself.
 You had told Yeri everything you thought she wanted to hear, of course but tweaking some things that you knew Jaehyun didn't want to be known, more specifically the negative things. In return, Jaehyun gave you a thankful smile after in which you gratefully accepted.
 Dinner was cut short since Yeri was to meet with her parents so she had to be picked up by her chauffer so Jaehyun had no choice but to take you home. You had sensed it so you told him you were doing an errand do you had to go home, but Jaehyun insisted he drives you home since you live in the same house anyways.
 "Just drop me off at Johnny and Saera’s." You spoke as you watched the rain drops slide on the car window. It had started raining a little after you left the hotel. It was still early and you were barely half an hour in your dinner when Yeri had to leave. It felt like forever, though.
 Yeri had given you her number, insisting that you contact her so you can both hang out soon because according to her, Jaehyun’s friends were her friends too, and especially that you’re Jaehyun’s best friend since forever. Somehow, you were relieved to meet Yeri because the more you wrapped your head around the idea of Jaehyun and Yeri together, the more it made sense. They were perfect for each other.
 “Y/n?”
 “Huh?” She didn’t realize he had been talking to her the entire time.
 “I said, let’s not tell Haerin about me and Yeri yet. I don’t want her to be shocked. But, Yeri already wants to meet Haerin. She loves kids!”
 You nodded, glancing at him before looking straight ahead. Wow. She even loves kids. No wonder Jaehyun fell hard. “I’m happy for you, Jae.” You spoke almost too tenderly. It was sincere. You were happy for him because you’ve always thought love was something to be celebrated and Jaehyun looked very much in love with her earlier. You wanted to get mad and express you jealousy but you knew your place. You were just a friend. You meant nothing more than a friend. “She’s an amazing woman. I was kind of intimidated, to be honest. She’s perfect, huh?”
 Jaehyun chuckled, “yeah! Honestly, she kind of intimidated me too. I had the biggest crush on her then and I never thought she’d notice me… But now… I can’t believe she’s mine, y/n. It’s like she came from a dream. It’s like… there’s a bright light around her and she always somehow makes everything brighter. She’s like the sun, y/n. I’ve never felt this strongly for anyone before.”
 You smiled, touched by his words. You never knew he could get poetic but no matter how beautiful his words were, they felt like big, sharp rocks being thrown at you. You knew you couldn’t fight against Yeri if you tried. “You deserve each other, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this happy with anyone. I’m happy she makes you feel that way.” I wish I was her, you thought.
 Jaehyun hadn’t talked and opened up to you in so long but honestly, you didn’t wanna hear anything he was saying. His words were too painful. Too raw. And you wanted nothing but to cry and maybe then, if he saw you cry for him, he’d realize you’ve always been the one for him.
 By now, you knew every detail of how they met, how he felt and how he stayed over at her place, how they bonded over things they liked in common, how they liked the same food, how great the sex was and what not. He also told you about how Yeri doesn’t know about his bisexuality and Taeyong. Yeri was a bit of a conservative, according to him, and she was apparently raised by a conservative family. For Yeri, he was this perfect straight male. He never smoked around her too.
 Halfway to the drive, you had pretended to be asleep but ended up falling asleep for real. When you woke up, you were already at home. You immediately unbuckled your seat belt as soon as the car rolled up by the the gate. You were about to open the door of the car when Jaehyun had stopped you.
 “You’re not sleeping over at Yeri’s?” You asked, confused.
 “No. I haven’t been home in a while and I missed you. Let’s just get Haerin tomorrow.”
As soon as you got in, Jaehyun headed to your shared bedroom and dropped himself on the bed, sighing contently. The look of bliss on his face made you jealous. You announced you were gonna take a shower and quickly made your way to the bathroom to take a quick cold shower so you could sleep. You were too tired to think and frankly, you just wanted to sleep to avoid the throbbing pain in your chest and avoid anymore conversation.
 You reached behind your back to pull down the zipper of your dress but failed so you tried again with your other hand but ended up failing again. You tried and tried but you couldn’t reach it so you had no choice but to ask Jaehyun for help. You walked out the bathroom and padded over to Jaehyun’s side of the bed where he was already settled in, “Jae. Help. Please.” Jaehyun grinned before you spun around quickly facing away from him, trying to regulate your quickening heart beat. Damn him and his smile.
 You finally felt your dress being loose and eventually, Jaehyun was trying to pull down your dress, but you weren’t wearing a bra so you pushed it up and ran over to the bathroom, holding the front of the dress to your chest as if he hasn’t seen your boobs before.
 “Nothing I haven’t seen before, y/n!” Jaehyun laughed as he walked over to the bathroom, catching you in your bathrobe as you removed your make-up for tonight which you spent hours on, to be honest.
 You frowned as you watched his happy expression from the mirror as you scrubbed your face.
 Jaehyun also started to wash his face then brush his teeth. You noticed that he had a scar on his cheek so you reached over and ran the pad of your thumb over it. For a moment, it felt like the old times. “Yeri doesn’t like the scruff, so I got cut when I was trying to shave.”
 You had always been the one to shave his face because stupidly enough, he always manages to hurt himself like now. You clicked your tongue and grabbed the first aid kit. “Put this on after you wash your face.” You handed him a heart patterned band-aid that Haerin chose (for the design, of course) from the cupboard from under the sink.
 Jaehyun smiled, drying his face with a towel as he watched you clean off your make-up with precision, as always. He’d seen this routine for years and he’d suddenly appreciated how you’d always done it regardless if you were too tired, or too drunk, especially back in uni after attending those frat parties his frat threw every weekend. “You know, I’m glad I introduced to Yeri. And I’m even more glad you like her.”
You looked at him as you scrubbed you face with facial foam. His face was filled with warmth and emotion. It was so obvious how he was so happy. It kind of hurt, honestly. You gave him a smile and faced yourself in the mirror, fingers unconsciously scrubbing harder.
 “You’ve taken care of Haerin for almost all her life and if there was one person who could say if someone would be good with Haerin in the future, that would be you. I mean, I’m not talking about marriage yet but I want her to be a mother figure for my daughter, too.”
 You felt your chest tighten at his words. You’ve always been just his best friend and his daughter’s Aunt. No matter what Haerin called you, you would never be Haerin’s mother. You hissed as you washed the soap off your face, realizing your face had turned red from the hardness of your scrubbing.
 “Do you think Haerin would like her?” Jaehyun asks, pure excitement evident in his face and voice.
 You chuckled, trying to make it look natural. “I mean, I’m not Haerin so I’m not really sure but she won’t dislike her for sure.” It was true. You didn’t know how Haerin would react but Haerin wasn’t a spiteful child albeit a little shy to strangers but it was no doubt she and Yeri will get close soon. “Wait, I have to poop so can you get out?” You chuckled in which Jaehyun laughed at, teasing you as he came out.
 In reality, you sat on the toilet, thinking about how Haerin would react if you’d have to leave when Yeri and Jaehyun become serious. Was it better that you let Haerin and Yeri spend more time together so the parting between you and Haerin would be easy? The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth that it made you feel like you wanted to throw up but even if you wanted to, nothing would come out.
 After your shower, you had dressed in an old t-shirt and and shorts, not your usual sleepwear which comprised of Jaehyun’s shirt and boxers. Jaehyun was already on his side of the bed, looking fast asleep. It would be weird to sleep next to him so you decided to sleep in Haerin’s room instead. But before you could pass the bed, Jaehyun was already awake, asking where you were going and why you weren’t in bed with him despite you saying you were sleepy. Of course, you didn’t want to make it awkward so you played it cool and laid on your side of the bed, facing away from Jaehyun.
 Feeling drained, you closed her eyes and let yourself be succumbed to sleep. But before you could, Jaehyun had pulled you back in his arms, spooning you, like he always did, and kissed the nape of your neck before burying his face on the curve of your neck. “Thank you for everything, y/n. Thank you for taking care of Haerin all these years. Thank you for being the best friend anyone could ever have.”
 Sleep never came after that. It was only when you knew Jaehyun was asleep, was when the tears you didn’t know you were holding, started to fall.
 You needed to change, too. it was better this way.
Here’s a drabble for the story featuring Jaehyun and Haerin.
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infernaleikon · 6 years ago
Note
Love your writing, and love how nice and positive it is for the fandom right now
Thank you, baby! I’m sorry this took me a little, and it got longer than I anticipated. Hope you like it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
21. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”
Eliot didn’t think that coming back into his own body would feel that strange. Yet, sometimes it still feels as if he’s just off about some movement; sensations don’t seem to feel right; the world is either too loud, too quiet, too dull, too saturated, too crowded, too empty.
Sometimes touches leave his skin crawling, set him on fire and burn away all his protective layers until only his raw, open nerve endings are exposed to the air. Noises pierce his ear drums, and the world is drowned out in a ringing; or, even worse, when suddenly, everything just falls silent, as if someone had just turned off the sound, and Eliot can’t hear; doesn’t hear Margo saying his name.
Sometimes the world seems so big he thinks he’s going to unravel. No pressure to hold the pieces of him together. Other times, it’s as if he’s suffocating; lungs too small to hold any air; pieces of him falling from his hands, cracking open on the floor, lost forever.
Cooking, Eliot finds out, about a week after he’s back, helps. He can zero in on the feeling of the ingredients in his hands, the texture of vegetables or meat; the weight of the knives; the steam of whatever dish he’s preparing. It grounds him in the moment and doesn’t let the sensations escape, slip between his fingers and grow into something huge he can’t hold on to.
Margo singing is another thing that tethers him. At night, they lie in bed together, Eliot’s head in her lap, and she sings; soft little melodies, achingly sweet lullabies, her fingers carding through his hair, twisting gently in his curls, and Eliot can drift off, anchored by her voice and presence. Every so often, he’d join her, their voices filling the space of Margo’s bedroom, covering him like a blanket.
In those moments, Eliot feels like himself again. Feels like he truly is back in his body, back in control, back to himself.
What makes him most settled, most anchored; makes him feel like he was never even gone, makes all of him, all of his senses, sharpen and focus to a point where Eliot doesn’t think he’s going to lose himself again—
—is when Quentin’s eyes are on him. When Quentin looks at him. When Quentin’s big, beautiful eyes settle on him, and settle Eliot’s soul and body in the process.
When Quentin looks at him, Eliot can’t breathe. When Quentin looks at him, Eliot’s heart stops. When Quentin looks at him, Eliot is whole.
Quentin is always across the room, always looking, never touching. Somehow, it’s too much but not enough. Somehow, Quentin’s touch, they found, sets Eliot’s skin alight, and not in a good way. It’s not even a surprise, really, when Eliot thinks about it, how the thing he wants most in the world, is the one he doesn’t get to have.
It was the leading theme in his life before he got possessed and vowed to be braver once he got out; and it’s hilarious, honestly, that it continues in a manner so disastrous he wants to tear at his hair, or rub himself all over Quentin and just burn.
Q, however, has stayed away from him since the third time Eliot had jerked violently at his touch. Eliot hates everything about this, most of all the expression on Q’s face. How do you tell the man you love that you crave him, ache for him, love him when it melts your skin whenever he touches you? How do you tell him, and make him believe you?
Some nights, when they’re all together at the penthouse, eating what Eliot’s cooked, chatting, watching a film; some of those nights, Quentin’s eyes never leave him. Those nights, Eliot goes to bed breathless, aching, yearning. Those nights, the only thing that helps him, are love songs. Margo’s lovely voice envelops him, and Eliot sings, too, at the memory of Q on his mind.
One Wednesday Eliot finds himself alone at the penthouse with Quentin. As soon as their eyes meet across the room, Eliot feels the air become crisper, everything around him melts away but Quentin—Q becomes sharper.
Slowly, he pads over to where Q is pouring into a cup. He slides it over the countertop in Eliot’s direction before getting another one, to fill it up for himself. He’s always, without exception, so careful not to touch, and Eliot always, without exception, wants to scream out his frustration.
“Where is everyone?” Eliot asks, curling his hands around the cup. He takes a step closer, Q retreats one.
“The women decided they need a spa day,” Quentin answers with a little shrug and the hint of a fond smile at the corners of his mouth. “Josh is in Fillory, and 23 is—travelling, I guess.”
“And why are you here?” Eliot presses, taking another step, eyes on Q.
Q takes another step back, holding his gaze. “We thought it best if someone stayed here with you.”
Another step closer, another back.
“Why you?”
Quentin looks taken aback by the question. He doesn’t respond right away. Finally, he says, “Because I was the obvious choice.”
“Yeah?” Eliot feels his skin prickling, something within him perking up. “Why?”
Q stumbles on his next step backwards, mouth parting, as his eyes remain fixed on Eliot. “You probably would be throwing things at Josh ten minutes into being left alone with him, or he’d get you high off your ass. You don’t even know 23, so—me.”
“Margo could’ve stayed.”
Quentin’s flustered. Eliot’s known him long enough to see the way he’s squirming, and it’s delightful. Except when Q takes his cup and walks across the room, putting an unreasonable amount of distance between them, mouth a thin line.
“It’s a girl’s day out, and I don’t need a spa day.”
Eliot takes a sip from his coffee, keeping his eyes on Q the entire time. “I think you do,” he says, tipping the cup down. “Need a spa day.”
“I’m fine.” He’s getting defensive. Good. Maybe Eliot will finally get a genuine reaction out of him.
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re teetering.”
“Eliot.”
“Quentin.”
Q exhales, an annoyed little huff, tightly coiled, and it breaks Eliot’s heart that he keeps himself locked up so tight all the time, high-strung and worn thin, all at once, all day. What’s even worse is that Eliot can’t touch him, can’t provide him with any comfort, can’t show him what he’s feeling, and words aren’t enough; will never be enough, because Eliot knows Quentin’s mind, knows it won’t accept it unless Eliot makes him surrender.
Quentin sits down on the edge of the armchair, suddenly defeated. He rubs at his eyes, all fight gone out of him, and he exhales again, deep and long this time.
“I just want you to be okay,” Q says quietly.
And that’s at the core of everything, isn’t it. Quentin, sweet, lovely, selfless Quentin who wants everyone to be okay, who fights so hard to try and make sure everyone’s safe, but who never stops to check how he himself is doing.
Eliot crosses the distance between them, sinking down to his knees in front of him. Q freezes up, staring at Eliot with big, uncertain eyes. This isn’t what it was supposed to be like. Eliot didn’t expect it to be easy, never wanted it to be easy, because he’d hurt Q, badly, after all, but it wasn’t supposed to be impossible either.
“I miss you,” Eliot confesses. Quentin meets his gaze, eyes going soft and sad as he tilts his head.
“El.” It sounds so, so pained. “I miss you, too.”
Eliot raises his hand, wants to touch, the urge so strong despite everything. Except Quentin shies away from it, sinking back into the armchair, and it rips Eliot’s heart into a million shreds.
“El, please,” he pleads, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Eliot drops his hand with a sad smile, watches how Q curls in on himself in an attempt to make himself smaller, to maximize the space between them so Eliot doesn’t run the risk of accidentally touching him.
It’s fucking Shakespearean tragedy.
Quentin’s breath comes out in a rush once Eliot gets up and creates distance between them again. It shouldn’t make his heart seize painfully, maybe; maybe it should make him feel treasured and loved that Q is relieved he’s not hurting Eliot; maybe, maybe, maybe.
Eliot picks his coffee cup back up, drains it in one go, and disappears in Margo’s room. Quentin looking at him might make him feel whole, but knowing he won’t touch him, can’t touch him is like drowning on dry land.
He manages to doze off for a little while, his senses his body not acting up for a change. When Eliot slips back into awareness, it’s dark. Not night time dark, but still not as if it was the middle of the day. Eliot pads to the window, and outside, the sky is a dark grey, looking threatening and thunderous.
A summer storm.
He makes his way downstairs, looking for Quentin. There’s no sign of him though, so Eliot sits on the sofa, facing the windows. Something about the outside, as dark and unwelcoming as it appears, makes him feel calm, soothes something in him in a way he can’t put into words.
Eliot gets up and walks over to the door that leads to the deck—the penthouse has a fucking deck—to step outside.
The air smells fresh, cool against his skin as it billows around his legs. Eliot senses the gusts curling around his body, tugging playfully at his hair, releasing him again. His lungs are too small for the gulps of air he drinks in, igniting sparks that skip through his body, dancing, tingling, and his mind clears, calms, settles. Something falls into place in him, something that had been rattling around, unfitting, resistant.
For the first time in two months, Eliot feels like he belongs in his body again; feels alive in a way he hasn’t anymore ever since the Monster had left him.
He tilts his face up towards the sky, spreading his arms out, just as the first fat raindrops start to fall. It’s pouring not a minute later, and the rain on his skin washes away some of the shame he’s been feeling the last couple of weeks. It’s not gone, not by a long shot; it’s not that easy, but—he can work through it.
“Eliot!” Quentin’s voice is almost drowned out by the downpour. He comes to an abrupt halt in front of Eliot, squinting against the rain beating in his face. “What the fuck are you doing? Come back inside.”
Q’s hand is halfway to Eliot’s but he stops himself short bare millimeters away.
Eliot laughs, laughs for the first time in a long time, and when he looks down at Q, there’s an expression of pure wonder on his face. Water is running in rivulets down his face, dripping off the tip of his nose, clumping together his lashes, collecting at the ends of the strands of his hair.
Quentin looks lovely and brilliant, and Eliot loves him. Has loved him for a lifetime, and loves him still, loves him again, loves him always.
“No.” Eliot takes a step back and finds Q following him. “I want to feel this.”
Q looks at him, utterly bewildered, drenched to the bones already. “We’re in the middle of a storm, and you want to—to feel it?”
Eliot smiles, hopelessly helpless against the adorably incredulous look on Quentin’s face.
“I’m sorry I ran away from you, Q,” Eliot finds himself saying, licking water from his lips. “You—you were my first choice from day one, and I—I couldn’t believe I would be yours, too.”
“Eliot…”
“You’re one of the very few good things in my life,” Eliot continues, surprised at how easy it is to bare his heart; smiles and amends to himself: finds it easy to bare it to Quentin. “I was scared I’d inevitably fuck it up somehow, but I—I don’t want to run away from this anymore. I don’t want to run away from you.”
He holds out both his hands out to Q, palms up, leaping, really, hoping that’s not too late; hoping, maybe against hope, that Q is right there with him.
Q doesn’t move at all for an agonizing moment, eyes burning as he gazes at Eliot. And then, slowly, gently, he slides his hands into Eliot’s, and it’s—
It burns, it sets his skin aflame, and it feels wonderful. Quentin’s skin is warm to his touch, smooth, sweet; it’s everything and more, and Eliot has missed touching him so much that this feels like—it feels as if he’d just done a line of coke. The smile that breaks across his face is huge, matching the one Q is wearing.
Q is smiling, wide and radiant, eyes crinkling at the corners; a smile so wide it shows off his dimples, and Gods, Eliot wants to kiss those dimples.
Eliot lets go of Quentin’s hands, slides them along the sides of his neck instead, pulling, and marvels at how easily Q follows. It makes something fierce and hot spark low in his gut, but that, he decides, is for later. Now, he leans down as Quentin tips his chin up, slowing for a second, thumbs brushing over Q’s cheeks, before he fits his lips against Quentin’s.
Maybe it shouldn’t feel different, kissing Q now than when he kissed him in their lifetime in Fillory. It does, though. It’s different, and it’s not, and it’s so, so good. Q’s lips are warm and soft against his own, pliant and sweet. Eliot could get lost in kissing him. He slides a hand around the back of his neck, and Q makes a soft sound at the back of his throat.
Eliot kisses him, and kisses him, and relishes in how spine-shatteringly, soul-meltingly marvelous it is to have Quentin back against him, to have him back in his arms, open and wanting; sweet, selfless, brave Q who gives himself over so completely; who trusts Eliot so entirely it makes his head spin.
Eliot draws back for a moment, brushes a strand of hair out of Q’s face with a soft smile on his lips. “I know I’m probably fulfilling every horrible straight rom-com cliché doing this right now, but—I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.”
Quentin lets out a little laugh, hands coming up to wrap gently around Eliot’s wrists. “I’d say we deserve a terrible rom-com cliché moment,” he replies, arms coming up around Eliot’s shoulders now. “I need you to know, Eliot Waugh, that you are my first choice, too.”
Eliot cracks so utterly and completely open at that, all his armor, all his defenses washing away at Q’s words, and he’s never felt safer.
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ramseyandrys · 5 years ago
Text
Through the Dark: Part 2
Book: Nightbound
Pairing: Cal x MC
Trigger Warning: brief scene featuring gore and violence
Summary: The pack isn’t going to just let Cal walk away. After all, family is forever, right?
Part 1
Author’s Note: Hello! Thank you so much for all of the likes, reblogs, and comments on the last part. It means the world to me. I hope y’all enjoy this part!
Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed):  @lilyofchoices @x-kyne-x @universallypizzataco @ab1901 @birdlovesafish @rain18rain @strangelycami @tendentiously @arise-aries @bubblygothzombie @molly7998 @waytooattuned @paisleylovergirl @endlessflame @fairydustandsarcasm @isabella-choices @princeteddyperses @exchoonesos @adrianadmirer @squishyyghost @justendlesssummerfeels @edgiestwinter @cordoniasmost @desiree-0816 @toribentleyva @bigtoughswordboy
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Mia and Cal walked into the crowded Full Moon. The bar was packed. No pun intended. Rowdy members of the pack were drinking, playing darts, or watching a particularly violent arm-wrestling match. Cal could only vaguely smell the wolf who had ransacked his house. He wasn’t at the bar now, but he had been there recently. Cal loudly cleared his throat in order to get the pack’s attention. A few people looked at him then went back to what they were doing. “Can I have everyone’s attention?” Cal said in an authoritative, albeit quiet, tone. He wasn’t one to yell.
“Everyone, shut up!” Mia yelled. The bar immediately grew quiet. Cal looked at his girlfriend with pride in his eyes. To think that might’ve been his future wife…
“Thank you, Mia,” Cal said. Mia smiled at him. Cal looked back at the bar’s patrons. “Earlier this afternoon, my house was ransacked. I want to know who did it.” The crowd began to whisper and mumble amongst themselves.
“How do you know it was one of us, boy?” an older werewolf with a long scar down his face demanded.
“I can smell it,” Cal said, his nose flaring.
“Well, I don’t know who it was,” the same werewolf said.
“Who even cares?” someone in the back of the room groaned. “I’m here to drink not figure out why pretty boy’s house got trashed.” A few people laughed at that, causing Mia to narrow her eyes.
“Shut up, you sons of bitches,” Octavia said, coming into view. Despite their problems, Mia respected Octavia and how she (usually) kept the pack in line. “One of our own was targeted.”
“He’s not one of our own,” a man not much older than Cal said. He didn’t look or smell familiar to Cal. “He doesn’t even want to be Alpha.”
“Y'all being ridiculous,” a woman named Penny said. She’d been a bartender at The Full Moon for as long as Cal could remember. Cal remembered going to the bar with his father as a kid and having to be driven home by Penny because his father drank too much. “We’ve known Calvin since he was in diapers. He’ll always be pack.”
“Thank you, Penny,” Cal said. The elderly woman winked at him.
“Enough with this touchy feely shit,” a werewolf named Terry said. He stood up and walked over to Cal. He was so close to him that their noses were practically touching. Cal thought his breath smelled like expired raw meat. “You insulted all us when you said you didn’t wanna be Alpha. The last thing we gonna do is help you and your lil’ girlfriend.” Mia glared at Terry who was a good foot taller than her.
“I’m not asking for your help,” Cal said. “I’m warning you to stay away from my family.”
When Cal and Mia got home, they were surprised to see three extra cars parked in their driveway. Standing outside their cottage were Nik, Vera, and Katherine. “Did you invite them?” Cal asked Mia.
“No,” Mia said, shaking her head. The couple got out of Cal’s Jeep and walked over to their friends. “Hey. What are you guys doing here?”
“We came to help out,” Katherine said. She raised up a red toolbox. “I brought tools.”
“And I brought cleaning supplies,” Vera said.
“I brought my winning smile,” Nik said, flashing Cal and Mia a weak smile. They all laughed.
“Thanks, guys,” Cal said. “It means a lot.”
“What are friends for if not to clean up your house after it’s ransacked by either a bear or a mythological creature?” Nik said.
“It’s the latter,” Mia said.
“Really?” Katherine asked.
“It was someone from the pack,” Cal said.
“What?” Vera gasped.
“You’d really think they’d go that far?” Nik asked.
“Sadly, yes,” Cal said with a sigh.
It took the five of them all day and night to clean up the cottage. Donny was noticeably absent.
Mia and Cal were laying in their bedroom. Both were exhausted from a day of intimidation and cleaning. Cal’s strong arms were around Mia’s torso as her head rested on his warm chest. Mia was surprised at how safe she felt in Cal’s arms despite the tumultuous day they’d had. “Do you think Donny’s right?” Cal asked just as Mia was about to drift off to sleep.
“About…?”
“Becoming Alpha,” Cal said. “Should I just do it?” Mia was wide awake now. She sat up and looked Cal straight in the eyes.
“No,” she said firmly. “You can’t let them bully you into becoming Alpha.”
“I know,” Cal sighed. “I still can’t believe Donny said me being Alpha is what Mom would’ve wanted. He’s too young to remember this, but she hated that my dad was in the pack. It turned him cruel. He never hit her or anything, but he was always drinking and yelling at her. Donny still puts him on a pedestal. The whole pack does.”
“Donny’s just a kid. He’ll learn,” Mia said.
“Hopefully,” Cal said. “The last thing I want is for him to turn out like Dad.”
“He won’t,” Mia said, taking Cal’s hand. She brought it up to her lips and kissed it. “Not when he has you.” Cal smiled softly.
“Thanks, Mia,” he whispered.
Mia walked into the cottage. She had just gotten back from the grocery store. Cal was planning on making gumbo for dinner. Mia shut the front door and noticed how quiet it was. “I’m home!” Mia called out. She didn’t get a response. She frowned and walked into the living room. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the groceries. The living room was completely destroyed. Every inch of the room was covered in blood. In the center of the room was Cal’s body… or parts of it at least. One of his arms was on the couch, and another was in the fireplace like a wooden log. Mia let out a terrified scream. Cal’s eyes popped open, seemingly staring into Mia’s soul.
“Help me,” he croaked.
Mia awoke with a start. She sat up and looked at Cal who was still fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him up, she quietly got out of bed. Mia walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She sat at the table as she started to cry. After her first encounter with a bloodwraith, Mia started having nightmares. She had hoped they’d go away after defeating Thomas, but she was wrong. “Mia?” she heard a voice ask, causing her to jump. She turned around and saw Cal standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she croaked. Cal frowned.
“You’re crying,” he said. He walked over to the table and sat down across from her. “What happened?”
“Just a nightmare,” Mia said before sniffling.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Cal asked. Mia shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to give Cal another reason to worry about her.
Mia wasn’t able to go back to sleep that night. She spent most of the night just staring at Cal. She was afraid that, if she closed her eyes, he’d disappear.
Wanting to feel useful, Mia made Cal and Donny breakfast that morning. Cal was the cook in the family, but Mia wanted to do something to prove her worth. Most days, she felt useless. She hadn’t had a job since coming to New Orleans. She wanted to work, but, some days, just getting out a bed was a challenge. Cal hinted at the fact she may have been depressed, but, truthfully, Mia was just exhausted.
The family of three was sitting at the kitchen table, eating the pancakes and sausage Mia had made. Mia knew the sausage was a little burnt, but Cal insisted it was the best he’d ever had. “So, what are everyone’s plans for the day?” Cal asked.
“The pack is having a meeting about you,” Donny said.
“Ah,” Cal said, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
“I’m going to tell them to fuck off,” Donny said. Cal raised one of his eyebrows, surprised by his brother’s change of heart. “I saw what they did to Mom’s curtains. They’re nothing but a bunch of bullies.”
“Thanks, kid,” Cal said. Donny groaned as Cal tousled his hair. Mia saw her phone light up on the table. She picked it up and saw that Nik had texted her.
Nik: Rook, when are you getting the rest of your shit out my house? You left some clothes.
Mia: I left those for you!
Mia: Kidding. They're not your size. I’ll swing by later.
After breakfast, Mia drove to Nik’s apartment. She was happy to get out of the cottage. She needed a change of scenery.
Mia knocked on Nik’s door. He opened the door. “Hey, rook,” he said.
“Hey,” Mia said, smiling at him. She walked into the apartment and sniffed the air. It smelt like burnt toast. “Let me guess. You tried to make breakfast?”
“Oh, like you’re any better,” Nik teased. Mia laughed. He had a point there. “How have you been?”
“I’m fine,” Mia lied smoothly.
“Okay, so you’re doing shitty,” Nik said. Mia sighed. She really was. “You know you can trust me, right?”
“Of course I know that. I just don’t like talking about my feelings,” Mia said. She never had. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable.
“Come on, Mia. Just tell me what’s wrong,” Nik said. Mia sighed.
“I’ve been having a lot of nightmares,” she said.
“Join the club,” Nik said. “It’s a side effect of encountering America’s Most Wanted.”
“Don’t they make you feel weak?” Mia asked.
“Of course they do,” Nik said.
“Does anything help?” Mia asked.
“Taking control,” Nik said. “Hunting monsters and making the world a safer place.”
“See, I wish I could do something like that,” Mia said with an exasperated sigh. “I think I would feel so much better if I could do what you and Katy do.”
“Who said you can’t?” Nik said. “I think you’d be a hell of a nighthunter.”
“Really?” Mia asked, somewhat skeptically. She had defeated Thomas, but that was because she had her father’s powers.
“Yeah,” Nik said. “You’d need some training, but you’d be learning from the best.”
“So, Katherine’s going to train me?” Mia joked.
“Ha ha,” Nik deadpanned. “Seriously though, I think you’d be great at it. Let me know if you’re interested.”
When Mia got home, Cal was chopping wood in the yard. He was shirtless and covered in sweat. It was times like these Mia was thankful they didn’t have neighbors. Mia let out a wolf whistle. Cal turned around and grinned. He put down his axe. “Looking good, Mr. Lowell,” Mia said, walking over to him. He chuckled.
“Thank you, Ms. Jameson,” Cal said. “How was Nik’s?”
“Good,” Mia said.
“He’s not falling apart without you?” Cal joked.
“Of course, he is,” Mia said. Cal laughed.
“You seem to be in a better mood,” he said.
“Yeah, I am,” Mia said. “Nik and I talked, and he offered to train me to be a nighthunter.” At that, Cal’s body tensed up. He frowned.
“Really?” he said.
“Yeah,” Mia said. “I don’t want to sit around anymore. I want to do something good.”
“There’s plenty of good things you can do that don’t involve chasing homicidal monsters,” Cal said.
“Okay, sure, I could volunteer at the animal shelter or read to kids at the library, but I want to do something bigger,” Mia said.
“I don’t know,” Cal said, biting down on his lip. “I’m just not sure this is a good idea.”
“Who asked you?” Mia snapped. She didn’t mean to snap, but she was tired of how overprotective everyone was of her.
“Mia, relax,” Cal said. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I know, Cal, and that’s the problem!” Mia said. “You, Katherine, and Vera all act like I’m some porcelain doll!”
“Okay, you’re right,” Cal said, holding up his hands. He didn’t mean to be so overprotective, but he was afraid. He was afraid of losing the best thing to ever happen to him.
“You okay?” Mia asked softly, noticing Cal’s eyes were starting to become teary.
“Yeah,” Cal said. “Just worried. I know I shouldn’t be, but-“
“I don’t mind that you’re worried. I just want you to trust me,” Mia said. “Like I trust you to handle the pack.”
“Which is why you let me go alone yesterday,” Cal teased.
“Okay, so we both have things to work on,” Mia quickly said. Cal chuckled. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.” Cal put his arms around her and kissed her. “I love you… even though you smell like a wet dog right now.”
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mrs-hollandstan · 6 years ago
Text
Help Wanted || Tom Holland
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Warnings: prostitute character, mentions of sex, dickbag Harrison (or logical), talk of theft, talk of drugs, talk of STDs, talk of loaning money, language. 
Word Count: 4,816 
Author’s Note: So I wrote this to where it’s not reader insert, just because I feel that the story goes better without it being sort of personal and insertable, so the main character’s name is Skyler. This is the prostitute fic that I wrote, but don’t worry, it’s not super descriptive into the profession. Enjoy!
Italicized text means a flashback. 
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"Tom you can't help her. She'll take you for everything you have. She only acts like she wants you to help her because she knows you're worth something." Harrison had rambled in the middle of Tom's living room. "This is why I didn't tell you." "Why because you knew I'd give you an intellectual insight?" "She's not like that. When I come in she's in the shower. She wears my clothes and she definitely doesn't steal anything. She's a good person." "She's a prostitute Tom. You met her on a street corner. She's a whore." 
That conversation resounded in Tom's mind everytime he glanced up at his apartment building and counted the floors to find his living room light on. He never panicked. He gave her a key for a reason. Even if he was hesitant at first because of her... profession, he still trusted her. Riding the elevator up, he slowly walked down the hall to his door, sliding the key in the lock and waiting for it to click open. When it did, he walked inside, dropping his keys in the bowl and hanging his coat up. Walking just a few steps forward, the bathroom light clicked off and Skyler stepped out in a button up of Tom's, stopping in her tracks when she saw him at the end of the hall. "Hey." He smiled, "Hey." Swallowing, he walked towards her, "What was it this time?" She sighed and shrugged, "I didn't have enough money for rent. I knew that if I walked in that building, my landlord would have my ass." Tom nodded, leaning against the wall beside her, "If you need money-" "No. That'd just prove your friend's point." "He doesn't have to know." "But I know... I don't want you to give me money. You do more than enough." Smiling wider, Tom took his tongue between his teeth, "Offering you a shower and the oppurtunity to wear my clothes is enough?" Standing confused for just a moment, Skyler gave a shy smirk, "Yeah. I was uhh... I was actually going to make you dinner. I saw you had chicken and I was gonna try and make an asian dish for you." Tom nodded, "Sounds good." She nodded, playing with the ends of her hair, "I thought you might like it. I could... still make it if you want." Tom nodded, "Yeah, you can go start it while I take a shower. I'll be there in just a minute to help you." She nodded, "Yeah, okay. I'll uhh... I'll go start it. Do you know if you have honey?" Tom nodded, "Yeah I use it in my tea. It's in the cupboard." She nodded before they parted and Tom walked into the bathroom while Skyler walked off to the kitchen. Scowering through his cabinets, Skyler found what she was looking for before turning the burner on and adding the raw chicken, adding lemon juice and honey to the pan and then sugar, salt, and chicken broth. Standing at the counter, she sighed, crossing her arms. Deciding to leave the mixture on the stove, Skyler trails down the hall, finding Tom a pair of boxers and sweats before walking towards the bathroom, "I uhh... I'm not looking. I just thought I'd bring you some clothes." Tom hums, water hitting the shower floor, "Thanks." She nods, avoiding the glass door as she sets his clothes on the sink's counter. "I didn't know if you wanted a shirt. I didn't bring you one. I can if you want to." "No that's okay. I don't need a shirt. Although... it sounded like you were coming onto me just then." Smiling, she turned her back to him, "Definitely not. I'll be in the kitchen." Her heart pounded in her ears as she wrapped her mind around his statement. She'd never made a move in Tom's direction. She didn't view herself as worthy even if he put her on a pedestal. He'd met her just as Harrison reminded him, on a street corner. She'd been selling herself to make extra cash and Tom had eyes on her. Of course he thought she was beautiful. Most of the hookers in New York were before they sold themselves to businessmen cheating on their wives for drug money. But Tom could see that Skyler wasn't like that. Sure she'd sold herself for cash but it wasn't for drug money. She wasn't some sleazy whore that flaunted her body to anyone who pulled up against the curb. She'd been someone before. She'd been a student before, Tom knew that much. She was just trying to make ends meet and the only way to do it quick enough was give someone a good time for an hour. "Do that many men actually pay to have sex with you?" "What are you trying to say Tom, I'm not attractive enough for men to pay to have sex with me?" "No, no, no, that's not what I was saying. I just... you know how in those movies sometimes men pay just to have someone to talk to or... they pay and when the girl gets in the car, they like hack her up and bury her body in the desert? I was just wondering if it was like that. I was wondering if you've ever been paid to be a therapist." She shrugged, dipping a fry into the ketchup on her plate, "Yeah. But most guys are selfish and wanna get off. I've had... well ya know... everywhere." Tom smiled, but his cheeks turned a dark shade of pink at the mention of her sexual encounters. "But I'm... I'm clean. If that's... what you're thinking." "No, no, that's not what I was thinking. Even if you weren't, I don't... I don't plan on doing that sort of... stuff with you. You don't have to justify yourself to me. I just... I wanna offer you a place to stay. If you ever feel threatened or you just need some company that isn't using you for your... services, you're always welcome. You can have whatever's in my kitchen and you can wear stuff from my closet if you'd like. Use the shower, I just," sliding the spare key to his apartment across the table, Skyler glanced down at his hand, "I want you to have a second option no matter what. You're... there's just something about you that I can't... I can't wrap my mind around it but I like you. I wanna help you." "It smells good in here." Tom spoke up quietly as he entered the kitchen, still drying his hair. Skyler jumped, being broken from her thoughts. He paused, looking her over, "Sorry. Did I scare you?" She nodded, "Uh yeah. That's okay though. I just... I was just thinking." Taking a few steps forward, he stood beside her, "What were you thinkin about?" She swallowed, "Just... that first time you offered your help." He nodded, "Ahh... I see. Those were uhh... those were pretty awkward times." "Its still awkward Tom. I don't live here but I'm always here when you come home. It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous." "Hey," stepping forward, Tom guided Skyler's eyes back to his with a finger under her chin, "hey you. You're not ridiculous darling. I gave you that key for this purpose. When I gave you that key, I told you you could take a shower and raid my closet. I told you you could have food. I did it because I know. I know that you felt this was your only other option. It was a dangerous decision, but you made it work. I gave you that key because I want you here." Staring up into his chocolate colored eyes, she nodded, looking away before she did anything reckless, "I know. I just don't want to overextend my stay." "You never will." Tom couldn't help but remember the feelings he felt the first time she called for help. She was sobbing and his heart broke and raced at the same time. The idea that she might be in danger scared the living hell out of him. The moment she ducked into his car, all he do could do as she rambled apologies was drag her into him, the rain water on her clothes sticking his clothes to him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you." "Don't apologize to me." He scolded, taking her face in his hands, "Don't ever do that. Okay?" She nodded and for once in her life, she was grateful for being yelled at. She'd never been told not to do something. She'd never been put in her place before. Especially by a man. And now, here Tom was, holding her eyes in his so intently, she thought she might explode. Or cry. Or both. "Let's get you home love. Let's get you in some warm clothes." "This is good. What is it?" Tom spoke up, his eyes wandering Skyler's spaced out face. She blinked before glancing over at him, "Its sticky chinese lemon chicken. Its normally served with rice. If you want I could-" "I got it. It's the least I could do. You're already doing the chicken." Pulling the box from his cupboard, he started on the rice, turning to her while it cooked. His eyebrows knit together, "What's that look for?" She shook her head, looking at the floor, "Nothing. You're just... you're just really amazing. I can't believe I was blessed with someone like you." Stepping forward, he reached up to tuck hair behind her ear, running his fingers down to her chin, "I'm nothing special love. I'm human and I have a little bit of sympathy." "You don't have to though. Your friend doesn't." "And I know that. He fuels the fire." "But he's right. You don't owe me anything. You literally met me when I was whoreing myself out on a street corner." "Yeah, but look at you now. You don't feel comfortable with it. It was a way to make extra cash and you are an absolutely beautiful girl with an amazing ability and... you... dare I say screwed up. But you're trying. I know you are." Taking her hand, Tom held it in his own. Skyler could feel her heart skip a beat. She'd wanted, so badly. since the moment they first met, to be his. To be his forever. But he'd never asked and she'd never pushed. "I am trying. Its just... it's hard." "And I know that." "And look at me Tom. I'm pitiful. I'm wearing your fucking button up God dammit. I'm just-" "Skyler stop." Dragging her into his arms, tears slowly slipped down her cheeks as she laid her head against his bare shoulder. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, "You're not just anything. You're an amazing girl and anyone, no matter how close I am to them, not willing to see you for who you are on the inside versus a definition based on your profession isn't worth anyone's of our time. Do you understand me?" Leaning back, he collected her face in his hands. She nodded, feeling her heart swell more as he scolded her. Reaching up, she held his hands over his face, closing her eyes. Sighing, she opened her eyes, a tear running down her cheek. Tom reached up and swiped it away with his thumb, caressing her cheek. She swallowed as he pulled away. "Hell... you should just move in. I could get you a job. We could share-" "No. I'm not doing that to you. I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that I'm gonna move in with you because your friend doesn't trust me. You're still not completely convinced that you trust me. And playing the sympathy card, saying that you want me to move in, you're not... you're not thinking straight." Leaning on her hands on the counter, she sighed. She dropped to her elbows, tucking hair behind both of her ears, "I'm not worth all this. I'm not worth the time or the patience or the money, or this key." Pulling it from the pocket of his shirt, she sighed and set it on the counter, "I'm not worth the trouble of all of this. I'm not worth the friendships sacrificed or the time put into this relationship. I mean, I'll never be with you. I'm not worthy of that. I'm not worthy of the feeling of-" "What do you mean you'll never be with me?" Looking up from the pan of chicken, Tom's eyebrows knit together. Glancing up at him, Skyler paused mid sentence, her mouth closing, "I just mean.... we- we'll never..." "Hook up? I don't hook up with you because of your profession. I don't-" "No Tom, not hook up. That's not what I meant. I just meant... I'm not worthy of girlfriend material for you. You don't even like me. You're creeped out by the mention of sex. You think I'm gross and I-" "STOP! Skyler." She looked down at the floor as he scoffed, "Skyler, the entire reason you're allowed in my house is because I'm in love with you." Looking up with wide eyes, she pursed her lips, "What?" Tom smiled, nodding. "I've been into you the second you climbed in my car that first night. The second you looked at me I knew I wanted nothing more. All I've ever wanted was you and that's why I have such a hard time listening to you bag on yourself. I don't come onto you... I don't ask or offer sex because I know you hate it. You made that a profession and the thought of it disgusts you. I know that. I'm not disgusted by you. I really don't care. If you wanna show me bloodwork that tells me you're clean, by all means, you go out and you do it, but that doesn't determine how strong my feelings are for you. I've been in love with you for months now." Staring at each other for a moment, Skyler's heart pounded in her ears. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes again. "Really?" Tom didn't hesitate to nod, "Of course." She stood, frozen where she stood for a moment longer before throwing herself at him. Binding her arms around his neck, he wrapped his around her waist, "I don't care if we never have sex. It's not about that. I love you for what's on the inside." Holding his neck, she pulled back, staring into his genuine, vibrant eyes, "Why haven't you said anything?" He scoffed again, "Right, because you totally wanna be mine. Obviously now I know you do, but... all those times you and I passed in the hall it was kinda awkward. I figured you just... I dunno, needed a place to stay and you just saw me as a friend." "No. No. God Tom, I thought... I thought you'd never be into me. I'm so... I'm grateful for you and I can't imagine life without you. I want to be your forever. God I'd want nothing more." He smiled, "I want that too. I've wanted that for a long time." Smiling, Tom glanced down at her lips, holding her off of her feet. Taking hold of his cheeks, she nodded. He leaned in, her doing the same and in moments, their lips touched in a passionate, every nerve ending on fire, kiss. She held him close, her legs binding around his waist as he worked his lips against hers. Setting her on the counter, she whimpered, tangling her fingers in his hair. He trailed kisses down her neck, her breath coming out in pants and short puffs, her heart pounding out against his chest. He brushed her hair aside, kissing a goosebumped patch of hollowed skin just beside the column of her throat. He could smell his shampoo in her hair. He could smell his body wash across her torso as his nose ran up the underside of her jaw. "So this new girl. She cute?" "God, she's gorgeous Haz. She... she's brunette and she's got the softest hazel eyes and she just... she's perfect. She's what I want in life." Harrison smiled, "That's great man. She sounds good." "Yeah, she is mate." Clapping Tom on the shoulder, Harrison smiled, sipping his drink, "So what does she do? She have a job?" Tom was quick to nod, "Uhh yeah... yeah, she's got a job. Well... kinda." "What do you mean?" Glancing at his best friend over the rim of his tumbler, Harrison furrowed his brows. Tom sighed, running the tip of his index finger over his own glass, "She uhh," glancing around the nearly empty bar, he leaned back against the back of their booth, "she's a... she's a prostitute." If Harrison had anything in his mouth, he would've choked. "Come again?" Swallowing, Tom inhaled and slowly nodded, "I was driving around the night I met her. I parked on a curb. Needed to clear my head and I saw her on a corner across from me. She looked scared. And she was even more so when I approached her. She was like a little abused puppy. But I asked her if she'd like me to take her to get some coffee or some food and with a little bit of reasoning she agreed. So... I took her to a diner, paid for some food, talked to her for a couple hours and I took her home. Saw her a few days later and I... I slipped her my key. The spare. And I hope she uses it." "You gave her your spare key? You gave a PROSTITUTE your spare key?" Tom nodded, "Yeah. She's a real sweet girl and-" "Tom, you do realize the first chance she gets, she'll rob you blind." "She's not like that." "How do you know? She's a whore who sells her body for money. She's probably been with more men than you have fans." "Harrison, shut up. She's a sweet girl and she doesn't deserve this shit. If you ever are in the same room as her and you spout off with this bullshit, I'll kill you myself. I do what I want. You're not gonna tell me how to live my life and you're not gonna tell me who and who not to trust. I trust her. If I get fucked over, it's on me, but I trust her." Tom could feel his blood boil. He could feel his heart pump molten lava through his veins. Glancing up at his best friend, Harrison's eyes had gone dark. He raised his eyebrows and sighed, glancing up at the bar, "Whatever mate. I'll just kick back and tell you I told you so when she takes you for everything you're worth. Maybe then you'll take a look at one of these fine ladies in this bar just waiting to be claimed. But you do you. Your life. As is." "Hey... you okay?" Skyler's soft, hazel eyes careened Tom back to reality. He blinked the image of Harrison away, standing back, "Uhh yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. Just... just thinking about something." "Yeah, what's that?" "Its nothing," waving a hand between them as he turned the burner under the rice out, Tom glanced up at her, "it's nothing. It was just the first time I told Harrison about you. When I told him about approaching you. I remember being so enamoured by you and I couldn't wait to tell him, and I figured he'd be happy and he'd let it slide, and then he asked me what you did for a living. I let it slip and..." Skyler glanced at the floor as Tom shook his head, pulling the lid off the rice and stirring it, "He called me a whore." Tom scoffed in his nose, his eyebrows furrowing in distaste, "He had so much to say about a girl he'd never met that night. He thought I was a fool and he told me I could have anyone in that bar that I wanted and I was making a mistake but I knew..." looking back to Skyler, Tom nodded, "I knew I was making the right decision." "And you still think that?" Skyler cocked her head and smoothed his shirt down over her knees. Tom smiled down at the pot of rice. Nodding slowly, he looked up at her after a moment, "Yeah. Yeah I still think that." She giggled, something he didn't hear often after a moment when he took a step towards her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Tom slid Skyler across the counter, leaning in on his hands, "I will never, ever regret you. When I met you that first night, I saw how scared you were. I saw how you wanted out and when I offered you dinner, I could see how scared you were of me. I'm not even in the profession and I knew how dangerous it was getting in my car. I knew the second I offered I sounded like a serial killer, but..." letting Skyler run her fingers through his hair, he sighed, "I wanted you. As... creepy as that sounds ya know? I wanted you to be someone that I could confide in and vice versa. I knew I wanted to help someone and you were presented at the right moment. I wanted to help." "And you did. I was terrified. I'm always terrified when a new guy comes in. You never know what they're capable of and I could go missing. No one would care." "I would." She giggled again when he leaned in, her chin in his fingers and gently kissed her lips. She sighed, "You really... don't think you're... outta your depth at all?" She quizzed between kisses. Tom shook his head, drawing her lip back between his teeth, "Nope." Leaning back, she ran her thumb across his cheekbone. Cocking her head, she hummed in her throat, "I don't deserve you." Tilting his own head, he kissed the hill of her hand, his eyes locked in hers, "You don't know how much you're worth my sweet girl." She smiled, draping her wrists over Tom's shoulders. Stroking his hair back, she licked her lips and sat straight up, "Ask me out. I wanna actually be asked out by someone in my lifetime." Tom smiled, laughing through his nose, "Alright. Skyler, would you like to go on a date with me?" Her smile widened. She nodded, hair falling in her eyes, "Yes. Yeah Tom, I'll go out with you." Leaning in again, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back completely, "So dinner." Hopping from the counter, she helped Tom plate the food before sitting across from him. Picking up his fork, he glanced up, "What?" She shook her head, "Nothing. I was just thinking that... I kinds wanna meet your friend." Tom took her hand when she held it out, "If you want him to burst into flames then yeah, sure. If you wanna meet him, I can set something up. I'm not telling you no. The idea scares me a little though." "Then you don't have to introduce us. I just... I want him to meet the whore that's stealing his best friend." Tom's smile widened, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, "No one's stealing me from anyone. I want the both of you to get along. It'll make things a lot easier." She nodded, leaning on her other hand, "I want to get along with him to. I don't like the idea of your longtime best friend not liking me." "Me neither love." Squeezing her hand, Skyler leaned back, flashing him a smile that reminded him of the way she sat across from him in the diner the first night they met. Back then it was shy though. Reserved. Scared. "Hi darling." When she glanced up at Tom through curly brown locks, he could see the fear swimming in her beautiful hazel eyes. She took a hesitant step back and Tom held his hand out. "Sorry. Sorry, I- I didn't mean to spook you. I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that. I uhh... i was sitting in my car over there and i saw that you looked... hesitant. I saw you looked scared. I thought I'd come ask you if you were okay. Talk you up a little bit." That same hesitancy swam in her dark eyes. Her mouth hung open just the slightest. She closed it as she swallowed and nodded, pulling the small bag at her hip, higher onto her shoulder, "M'fine." Tom tucked his hands in his pockets and nodded, "Okay. Okay, yeah. I uhh... I just wanted to make sure. Are you... lost? I could help you find your way." She was weary to shake her head again. What would this pretty boy think of her if he knew she was a hooker? She shook her head firmly, "No I'm not lost." Tom cocked his head just the slightest, confusion written across his features. He hmphed in his throat, "Then why are you out here in the cold wearing a skirt and tank top. I mean... its the middle of winter and you must be cold. I-" The look on Tom's face was like a lightbulb when off in his head. His dark eyes met hers and his mouth hung open, his cheeks seemingly growing more pink in embarrassment, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were a uhh... I didn't know you were a prostitute. I mean... I don't mean that in a derogatory way I just, I didn't-" "No it's okay. It's okay, I am. I'm a... I am a prostitute." Skyler glanced down at her feet and Tom felt terrible. He didn't take a step forward, afraid of scaring her, "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean that. You can tell me to fuck off now. I deserve it, I don't blame you." Reaching up, she tucked hair behind her ear, "No it's okay. Seriously. I brought it on myself. I don't have a right to get upset about it. You're a nice guy. I'm not upset." Tom nodded, licking his lips and wondering how she wasn't freezing. Glancing up and down the street he cleared his throat, "Listen I uhh... I know this is sudden and uncalled for and now I don't deserve the company of a pretty girl like yourself, but I uhh... can I offer you some coffee or dinner? There's a diner down the road. They've got really got chicken tenders if you're interested. My treat." She quickly shook her head, "No I couldn't. I couldn't ask you to do that I-" "Please, it's the least I could do. I've snuck up on you, I've insulted you, hell, you probably deserve a lot more than what I'm offering for the way I've treated you the past two minutes we've somewhat known each other." His bright, exuberant smile made her heart race in her chest. He tucked his hands in his pockets, "Look, if I leave you out here I'll feel guilty as hell. Just... an hour with me, in public, I just don't want you to freeze to death out here. You can have whatever you want." The idea tugged at her brain, unravelling the ribbon around her heart that protected her from human emotions like her clients didn't like. Each time a breeze picked up, her knees threatened to give out. She was cold and the fear of climbing in his car, never to be heard from again was strong but he was offering a chance many people didn't. And she liked the idea of it. Tom was patient, looking her over as she glanced around them for a moment before she licked her lips and slowly nodded. Tom smiled, "There ya go. Come on. I've got my mind set on cherry pie and coffee now." Turning his back to her, he started towards his car, turning to make sure she followed. When he opened the passenger side door, she climbed in and waited for him, looking over as he climbed in beside her and turned the heater on. Pausing movement for just a moment, Tom reached in his pocket and pulled out money, counting a hundred dollars out and holding it over the center console, "I'm not paying you for sex or anything. I uhh... I want you to have it. It's probably not much but something." When she opened her mouth, Tom shook his head, "Its alright. You can take it. A hundred... isn't much, ya know? Just uhh... pretend it didn't happen." Taking it after a few moments, she nodded and tucked it into her clutch. Tom swallowed and pulled his car into drive,
"Oh uhh... by the way," looking to her, he smiled again, "I'm Tom. Tom Holland."
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