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kittyofalltrades · 2 years ago

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The Moon and The Sorcerer Pt 3

A little afternoon delight with Steven.

Pairing:Marc Spector x Reader, Jake Lockley x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader

Words: 4335

Rating: Explicit MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ ONLY

Beta: @welcometostayingawake (THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!)

Warnings: Show Canon DID, Unprotected PinV, Cum, Sex at work (just no), brief description of injuries, Bad Spanish let me know if I missed anything

The morning after your date with Marc was a whirlwind. The ache from last night hadn’t faded, and it tempted you to touch yourself before work. You opened the drawer that contained your vibrator before deciding against it. With the need for him still fresh in your mind, you dressed for work. You chose a short flowing dress that was barely long enough to be appropriate and a black cardigan to cover the thin straps. You checked yourself out in the mirror once before heading out, sighing to yourself.

It was going to be a long day.

Steven dropped most of the Taweret plushies he was holding as you walked into the gift shop. The outfit you breezily walked in wearing sent his mind straight to the gutter with thoughts of how easy it would be to push the fabric out of the way and take you bent over the boxes in the back room. The dress looked thin enough that he could tug your nipples through the fabric. His grip on the last Taweret plushie in his hold tightened when you met his eyes and smiled. Gods, he wanted to see you look up at him with your mouth around his co—

Steven, you’re going to decapitate that stuffed animal if you don’t loosen your grip, Marc told him from the glass countertop. I know she looks beautiful, but you’re gonna get fired again if you don’t get your hard-on under control.

As you walked closer, you watched as Steven strangled the poor hippo plush. When you got close enough, you plucked the poor thing from his hand and gave him a sweet smile. As you took the plushie, he swiftly rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward to chat with you. The action made your smile widen as you leaned across the counter toward him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” you greeted softly. “I’d kiss you, but with Donna around, I don’t wanna risk it.”

“You’re right, maybe later, love,” Steven agreed.

“Definitely later,” you replied.

You clipped your name tag on and started on your tasks for the day. Humming cheerfully while you worked, you were happy to be in Steven’s presence, even if you didn’t really get many opportunities to talk to him. The occasional brush of his hands across your waist while you crossed paths only helped to elevate your mood through the workday.

Steven watched you restock the plushies on a tall shelf with a smile. He moved to help you, but Marc’s voice in his ear stopped him.

Just watch.

Steven straightened his spine and leaned on the counter, watching as the hem of your already short dress lifted high and higher. It stopped high on your thighs but still gave him a tantalizing view that made his cock twitch. He glanced at his watch, wondering how much time he had left before the next shift arrived so that he could take you home. He just wanted to get his hands on you and under that flowing fabric.

“Steven, can you help me?” you called over your shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.

You were having a bit of a hard time getting one of the plushes to stay on the shelf no matter how hard you pushed, it wasn’t quite enough.

Steven’s presence behind you was comforting as he stepped behind you to push the plush on the tall shelf. You stumbled back a step and directly into Steven, making your ass brush his cock. He let out a small growl that was uncharacteristic of him; it took a few seconds for you to understand why.

Steven’s cock was hard, and you were pressed against him. You glanced around, making sure the coast was clear before grinding against him teasingly, slowly.

Steven’s hands flew to your hips, stilling your motions with a low groan. “Behave.”

He released you, quickly retreating to behind the counter again. That explained the curious position he’d been in earlier while chatting with you, and it also explained why he’d almost decapitated the poor hippo plushie when you first arrived. He has been hard as a rock since seeing you this morning. A grin formed on your lips as you decided to torture Steven a little more, the idea sending a shiver through you. Knowing that he was that turned on by just your mere presence right now had you feeling hot and bothered as well.

You gave him a sweet smile and joined him behind the counter. Risking a quick glance downward confirmed your theory. Being the resourceful sorcerer that you were, you knew when you spotted a great opportunity, and you took it only to tease Steven some more.

“Looks like there’s an attempted jailbreak,” you said with a nod at his feet.

You knelt down to scoop up a little hippo plush that was near his foot and paused to look up at him. You smirked when he looked down at you with a hitch in his breath, clearly having the effect you were hoping for. When you had gotten dressed this morning, you hadn’t planned to bend over or anything like that, but now that you had you realised Steven had a direct eyeline down your dress, you were going to play it to your advantage. With a wicked smirk, you leaned forward, giving him an even better view. You watched his cock twitch through his pants, and you almost laughed at the thought that maybe he’ll stop buying such tight pants in the future.

Steven looked at you on your knees before abruptly punching into the computer to clock you both out. Once that was done, he pulled you, gently but firmly, to your feet, dragging you toward the back room. When you stumbled, he stopped to make sure you were okay before continuing his quick pace, clearly eager to get you alone.

You can’t really be thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you? Marc asked from various displays they passed. Steven gets a girlfriend, loses control and fucks her at work...he was proud of him.

Once Steven got you to the back room and the door clicked shut, he was on you in seconds. He kissed and caressed your skin, every touch filling you with need. The kiss turned hungry, his mouth devouring yours, pulling a quiet moan from you.

Steven murmured apologies for being so rough with you while he tugged your cardigan off and slipped down the straps of your dress, discarding all the fabric on the floor. Once you stood before him naked, he placed open mouth kisses across your breasts, making you whine with need. After what felt like the fiftieth apology, you gripped his hair and pulled him away from your skin. “Steven, stop apologizing please,” you ordered.

“Are you sure, love? I just–I need you so badly and you look so pretty,” Steven whimpered, a stark contrast to his earlier attitude. “I’m sorry.”

You released his hair and stroked his face, giving him a sweet smile. It made you feel special that he was this needy for you, dragging you to the back room to get his fill.

“Take what you need, Steven. I’m all yours.”

Steven’s eyes widened at the words. “Are you sure, love? We are still at work…”

In answer, you bent yourself over a stack of crates, exposing yourself to him. Steven was on his knees behind you in an instant, softly blowing air against your cunt before drawing away from you completely, making you whine at the lack of touch. He dragged his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of where you needed him the most.

He released your thigh and brushed a finger over your clit in a featherlight touch. He tilted his head to the side as if to ask if that was what you wanted and you gave a nod. He started working small circles onto your clit, making you drop your head forward to moan. He was a very fast learner; you thought to yourself again, while he massaged your clit in a way that left your knees weak.

Steven pushed two fingers into your wet core with a sigh, working them at a fast pace. “So wet for me. I think they can hear your pussy from outside,” he murmured.

If he was going to fuck you in the back room because he couldn’t wait, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself. While he pumped his fingers into you, he brushed his thumb over your clit, satisfied as your moans got louder and louder.

Reaching around to cover your mouth with his hand, he muffled your noises effectively. You couldn’t be caught with Steven’s fingers buried in your cunt at work, bent over the boxes in the back room. Imagine the scandal.

“What did you think was gonna happen, coming to work dressed like that? Did you hope I’d fuck you back here?”

“Mhmm!” Your confirmation came out muffled against his hand, but he heard you nonetheless.

Steven savored the sounds that he pulled from you behind his large hand, and his cock twitched with anticipation. With a quick motion, he freed himself from his pants, letting his cock hang hard and heavy for a moment before he dragged his tip over your clit.

“You gonna let me fuck you? So next time you come back here, this’ll be all you think about. Just remembering how good I made you feel,” Steven cooed in your ear while he pushed the tip of his cock into you.

You nodded quickly around his hand, barely able to stop the moan that threatened to bubble out of your mouth. You needed him inside you now. No more teasing. You pushed your hips back, taking all of him in one smooth motion, moaning softly. Steven let out a harsh moan and bit down on his knuckle to stop himself from making anymore noise.

“We have to be quiet, darling,” he chastised softly while he worked his hips into you slowly.

You whined insistently behind his hand, needing more from him. You heard a low chuckle from him before he drew out almost fully, snapping his hips forward, filling you again, his hands pressing your lower back into the stack of boxes. With each snap of his hips into you, he was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and you tried really hard to contain your moans.

Steven set a punishing pace into your cunt, motions spurred on by your muffled moans. His lip was pulled between his teeth, trying to stifle his own groans of pleasure while he fucked you. When your sounds changed, pitch rose, and your walls began fluttering against his cock, he knew you were close. He moved his hand down to your clit, stroking in tandem with his cock, thrusting in and out of you. The action sent you spiraling into pleasure with another loud muffled moan.

“You feel so good, love. Wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me, please? Be good and come on my cock, please.”

You nod quickly, not sure what you’re agreeing with, just wanting to cum. His pace at your clit picked up and your orgasm hit you like a bus. You came screaming, Steven’s hand muffling the sound. Your legs gave out and your body trembled from the pleasure. Steven didn’t stop thrusting, he held you in place with his hands pressing on your lower back and kept fucking you roughly, using you for his own pleasure. Your second orgasm followed soon after, surprising you while he held you against the boxes.

“I’m gonna cum, love,” Steven groaned. “Gonna paint your pretty ass with it.”

You felt his cock twitch inside you before he pulled out and released on your ass. You moaned again as each rope of hot cum splattered on your cheeks until you were covered. He removed his hand from your mouth and you sagged against the boxes with a deep sigh. You felt his cum dripping down the backs of your thighs and looked over your shoulder to smile dazedly at him.

Steven was wringing his hands, wondering if he had taken things too far. But you didn’t seem mad at him, only looking at him with affection.

“Was that okay, love? Did I hurt you?” he asked in a slight panic.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed at him. “It was perfect. I just didn’t expect this at work.” Steven help her clean up, she’s dripping. Marc chastised.

Steven frantically patted his pockets and pulled the unused handkerchief he always carried in case of an allergy attack. With gentle hands, he ran the square fabric over your ass and thigh, cleaning his release from your skin. Once he was done, he helped you carefully back into your clothes, taking the time to place gentle kisses on your skin wherever he could reach. Steven gave you a sweet smile when your clothes were in place before he fixed his own, needing less fixing than you.

“Walk me home?” you asked sweetly. “I’d love to,” He was quick to answer.

“Let me get my things and I’ll meet you out front.”

Steven nodded and watched you go with a love-struck look on his face. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky to find a girl like you. With his smile still firmly in place, he wandered out more slowly, finding himself at the desk of security cameras with JB. He didn’t notice the look JB was giving him at first, but when he did, he was immediately caught off guard.

“What’s wrong, mate? Do I have something on my face?” Steven asked nervously. He ran a hand over his face quickly. “You probably did earlier,” JB answered with a wink.

“What?”

“Stevie, there are cameras. Not in the room you were in, mind you. I didn’t know you had it in you,” JB said while he clapped a hand on Steven’s shoulder.

He leaned away and pointed him toward the screen aimed at the door to the room Steven had just left with you. Steven felt like he was going to faint while JB congratulated him once more before you appeared with your bag. You gave him your usual soft smile and the two of you walked out of the museum. He was silent for a few minutes before you took his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts. He didn’t know why he was worried. JB wasn’t going to tell anybody, so with that thought, Steven finally smiled back at you. The walk back to your flat was regrettably short, but you were happy he walked you home. It made you feel warm and spending time with Steven always made you happy. That feeling doubled when Steven walked you to your door and gave you a sweet, lingering kiss before bidding you good night and telling you he’d see you tomorrow.

You suddenly couldn’t wait to get to work tomorrow, you thought with a smile. Possibly because it had something to do with Steven, but who could know?

It had been a few days since you’d seen Steven, not since he’d escorted you home after your sexcapades in the back room. You chewed your lip while you straightened the Taweret plushies for the third time today. Donna had swung by a few times to tut about Steven’s absence and complain about how she wished she could fire him, but his special accommodations protected him from such a thing. You rolled your eyes after hearing Donna’s unprofessional speech three times today.

Once she wandered away, you went back to work, since there were only a few minutes left in your shift. It passed swiftly, and just as you clocked out, you looked up to see Steven stumbling into the gift shop, looking out of sorts. He looked like he was limping, but you couldn’t be sure. His curls were messier than usual and he appeared to have a black eye.

“Hi, love. Do you think we can talk in the back for a bit?”

“Um—yeah, sure,” you told him while you grabbed your phone and started heading to the back.

You watched him closely out of the corner of your eye, confirming he was definitely limping. You chose not to mention it until the door to the storage room closed behind him.

“What happened, Steven?” You asked quickly. You took his face in your hand and with a quick hand gesture healed the black eye with ease, even though it probably left him tired.

“Thanks, love, I got mugged on the way in today,” he groaned.

Steven nuzzled his face against your hand, and your suspicions grew. There were at least two hospitals that he could have gone to between his flat and here. There was no way he limped all the way here when he could have stopped.

“Do you think you could heal me, love?” He asked and his accent was slightly off and you paused as you tried to listen for it. You brushed it off when he shifted slightly and summoned a cot, helping him onto it. He winced as he settled down, pain written all over his face, and it made you feel guilty for thinking badly of him.

“I’m gonna magic off your clothes, is that okay?”

When he gives you a nod of confirmation, you make another set of hand gestures and the clothes he wore melted off his body, leaving him in only his silver-grey boxer briefs. Boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, but your focus wasn’t on his crotch, but on the bruising that covered his torso. The large, sloppily applied bandage was the most alarming sight. You pulled the bandage away to find a freshly bleeding wound on his side.

“How the hell did this happen?” you asked in horror.

With a wave of your hand, the wound knitted closed, leaving behind no trace of marred skin. You watched as Steven arched off the small cot in pain and you wished you could do more to help, but his body needed to work through this itself.

“Hija de puta. Dios mio!”

The gruff Spanish words had you scrambling away from him against the opposite wall of the small back room. Steven didn’t speak Spanish, and Marc wouldn’t have pretended to be Steven.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Jake relaxed once the pain and magic tingles subsided. Well, relaxed as much as he could with a broken rib.

“Lo siento, yo soy Jake Lockley.”

You didn’t understand what he’d said besides the name. “You’re the third, the soul I didn’t meet,” you whisper.

You return to the cot and stroke his face gently, and he nuzzled your hand again. Not a reaction you expected from somebody hiding their existence. He seemed sweet enough, if the nuzzling was any sign.

“I didn’t think leaving the body at the hospital was a good idea, having them wonder what caused this,” Jake explained. His accent was different and thick, but you still understood him.

“What did cause this? You got slashed, a broken rib, and dozens of bruises,” you said, gesturing at his body.

“Khonshu.”

“The moon god? The moon god beat your ass?” you asked incredulously. “He’s a myth.”

“So are sorcerers,” Jake pointed out.

“So Khonshu beat your ass and you came to me for healing?”

“He didn’t beat my ass. The vile people he sent me after did. I’ve been laying in Steven’s flat for three days waiting for the healing to start, but whatever they cut me with is stopping it,” Jake explained.

“So instead of a doctor… you came to me?”

“I knew you’d fix Steven.”

“Of course I would have.”

“Will you heal me even though I’m not him?” Jake asked softly. He turned his head away, not wanting to see the rejection that he was likely to get, and in his weakened state, there wasn’t much he could do if you said no.

“I will,” you answered softly. You reached out for his cheek again to turn his face to yours. “You could have just asked. You didn’t need to pretend to be Steven.”

“Gracias, querida,” Jake replied tiredly.

“I’m sorry though, it’s gonna hurt,” you warned him.

Jake nodded, and you started your work, trying to make it as painless as possible for him. But healing a broken rib was going to hurt no matter how gentle you were, so you offered him your hand to hold while you worked. Jake’s rib was snapped in two places and took longer than you would have liked to heal. His grip tightened on your hand but not to the point of pain, which made you think he was holding back to avoid hurting you. You appreciated the gesture.

Once his skin was unmarred, he dropped your hand and sat up. He gave you a kind smile, and you were happy you’d managed to help him. Your eyes trailed down his body, making sure you hadn’t missed bruises when your eyes landed on his crotch. It suddenly occurred to you that he was seriously underdressed and you slapped your hand over your eyes, making him laugh.

“Haven’t you already seen everything, querida? We all share the same body,” Jake teased in a low tone.

“I’m trying to be respectful, since we just met,” you argued. You had seen everything in this exact room, actually, and the reminder sent butterflies to your stomach.

“Come on, you can look. I know you think we are pretty,” he continued in that same low tone that sent shivers down your spine.

Jake laughed at your reluctance to look at him, even though he knew you found their body appealing. He thought you were cute, and with gentle fingers he pulled your hand away from your eyes, leaving you looking into his deep brown ones. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You are gonna be a handful, aren’t you?” You grumbled as you kept your eyes firmly on his.

He laughed again and, with the hand he was still holding, laced his fingers with yours. “Well, isn’t it lucky you have two hands?”

You laughed with him before unwinding your hands from his. You reached behind you to retrieve his clothes for him. Judging from how loud the shirt pattern was, they were Steven’s clothes. You knew it was only a matter of time before Donna or JB wandered back here to see what was going on.

You averted your eyes while he dressed just to be respectful. It might have been your boyfriend’s body, but this wasn’t your boyfriend. You heard Jake chuckle, but he didn’t say anything until he was fully dressed.

“Thank you, querida,” he said with a gentle smile.

“You’re welcome.”

He headed to the door and stopped to give you a long look. After a minute, you finally asked, “Is there something wrong?”

“I’m not sure when I’m going to get to see you with my own eyes again,” he answered before pulling the door open and leaving.

You moved to sit on the cot, wondering what he meant by that when the thought hit you. Did he like you? No… he couldn’t, could he? This was the first time you met, and you were just doing him a favor by healing him, but he was showing a lot of affection. You pondered the thought a few more minutes before climbing off the cot and banishing it.

You returned home exhausted and after a meal of cold leftovers; you retreated to your bed. You were happy with what you accomplished at the museum, healing Jake being the highlight of your day. Before you fell asleep, you pondered whether or not Jake liked you, as he seemed nice enough.

The next morning found youself rushing up the steps to the museum. You’d overslept because of the toll on your body from healing Jake. Donna adored you, however, so she wouldn’t make a fuss. As you sprinted past her, she stopped you with a cheeky smile.

“Who is he?” she asked happily.

“Who is who?” You asked, completely confused.

“I thought you were all in for Stevie, since you wanted the shift. But I’ve never seen you so much as smile at him and then you get a delivery of flowers at work? If Stevie had a shot before, he sure doesn’t now,” Donna cackled before wandering off. Apparently, she was overjoyed at the idea of upsetting Steven and it annoyed you.

But she was right: on the gift shop counter was a clear glass vase wrapped in a red ribbon, holding a large bouquet of flowers. The bouquet comprised of blush roses, cornflower, sweet Williams and honeysuckle, making your cheeks heat. There was no way this was for you, not these beautiful, but very specific, flowers.

“Afternoon, love. Did you see what someone sent you?” Steven asked, his tone giving away the jealousy he felt.

“Are you sure these are for me?” You asked as you reached out to stroke a few of the petals.

“The driver mentioned you by name when he dropped them off. There’s a card, too.”

You dug into the center of the flowers and pulled out a little card with your name on it.

I hope to see you again soon, with my own eyes. Gracias, querida

-Jake

You bring your face closer to smell the flowers that Jake sent you. You spent the night wondering if he liked you and now you definitely knew the answer. You wondered if he’d learned the language of flowers overnight just to send you a message. “Who are they from?” Steven finally asked, pulling you from your thoughts. He didn’t seem happy about the idea of another man sending you flowers, even though hadn’t done so himself. “And what do they mean?”

“It means we need to talk.”

#the moon and the sorcerer #tmats #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight smut

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whirlybirbs · 4 years ago

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( another gif by @unearthlydust from this beautiful set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 3/?

summary: you find out about bucky’s past, he finds out about yours.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.4k, va va voom

a/n: oh look out here comes the plot, charactization, and growth between to pals who are maybe starting to feel a little something begin to take shape. but ignore that, there’s danger afoot. no spoilers for tfatws here!

( PREVIOUS | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )

“You know I have to ask these questions. It’s part of the check-in.”

“Yeah,” you fire back, flat enough to warrant Dr. Hart’s scowl to grow. You can’t see it over the phone, but you know the way her words whip around you means she’s upset, “I know.”

“If you’re not following the action plan set out by the judge,” she begins, leaning forward as her tone drops into a scalding hot sort of seriousness on the other end, “You will go to prison. You know this. So, do you want to spend ten years of your life behind bars? Are you trying to get yourself locked up? Come on.”

You can’t look up from your computer’s screen. Or maybe you can, but right now, there’s a dangerous mixture of anger and guilt and frustration boiling under your skin.

“I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough for the GRC,” Dr. Hart snaps, “You know this. They’re giving you a chance — they know you’re talented. You have the ability here to go straight, to earn a living, to finally make up for those years of blackhat work.”

“Everything I did,” you fire back, ripping your eyes up to meet Dr. Hart’s, “Was for others. I didn’t get a fucking penny.”

“You’re not Robin Hood,” she shakes her head as her tone softens, “We all make mistakes. But, everything has a consequence. You know this. And this conversation isn’t even considering the other charges.”

“You know the extortion case would never hold up in court.”

Dr. Hart sighs raggedly. “And I don’t intend on ever seeing it play out in court, because you’re going to follow the conditions of your pardon.”

“The GRC is a bunch of fascists—”

“Enough,” she snaps, “If you want to go and appeal your case with the judge, be my guest, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be perp-walked out of that Federal courtroom in cuffs.”

She’s right.

Dr. Hart is right.

Your knee is bouncing, up and down and up and down. You’re wound up around yourself, arms crossed tight, brows knotted. With a shaky exhale, you just nod. You breathe, and you remind yourself that she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right. It’s not worth it. Dipping yourself back into that world, the layer of the web beneath the surface, isn’t worth it.

The GRC is your way out.

Just be a good little girl and do as you're told.

“So, I’m going to ask you again,” Dr. Hart begins, pen clicking alive on the other end of the phone call, “...Have you engaged in any illegal activities online in the last seven days?”

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Inessa Sidrova’s photo stares up at him from its place on the speckled marble counter, stacked neatly next to his notebook where her name is scrawled in chicken scratch — between two other names: Zemo and Henrikson.

His laptop, technically on loan from the FBI, sits beside both.

(When Barnes had agreed in that closed doors meeting to the conditions of his pardon, a certain FBI agent by the name of Jimmy Woo had been rather insistent that Barnes needed a personal computer in order to carry out his portion of the conditions insofar as tracking down the remaining HYDRA pawns in the States. Woo had also insisted, to the agreement of Dr. Raynor, that a personal computer would help better acclimate Barnes to the new world he’d been dropped into.

Woo was even nice enough to take an hour of his own time to show Bucky enough to get started — but was whisked away for some investigation out in New Jersey.)

Bucky rubs the cold vibranium of his left palm into his eye, then exhales long and slow.

He’s done all he can. And still, no leads on the woman.

Rounding the kitchen island, he digs his cell from his pocket. He goes back to staring at that text — the one he’d laughed out loud at the moment it lit up his phone — and he can feel that ol’ bite of anxiousness creep into his arms. His fingertips tingle.

On the television, a laugh track plays over a clip of The Three Stooges. Blue eyes flick upward, and he partially wishes a ladder would put him out of his own self-induced misery.

Outside, the antics of a Saturday night in Brooklyn roll on.

In the last few days he’s parsed through his thoughts enough to realize it’s not telling you that scares him — no, it’s telling you the truth. The whole truth. All of it. After all, the good comes with a lot of bad; the sort of bad you chain in a chest and sink in the ocean. And Bucky finds that, even still, the good is questionable at best. The good is… small. Microscopic. Completely and totally tainted by the fuckin’ decades of brainwashed, war dog bullshit.

He groans and drops his head back against the wall.

He tries, for the next twenty minutes, to formulate some sort of reply to your text message. But, half the battle is figuring out what to say, and the other half is actually typing it out. This whole flip phone purchase was really starting to sting like regret — and as much as Bucky loved technology back before the war, and all the magical possibilities it held, he can’t help but feel like an ornery old man now.

It’s the change. Steve was right. Too much change.

He can’t find the space button and he can’t figure out how to delete the random 3 he’d accidentally punched in — so, with a grumpy huff of disapproval, Bucky simply dials your number.

You pick up on the third ring.

“Don’t you know it’s Saturday?” your voice is a welcomed sound, “The History Channel is running a bunch of old war documentaries you might enjoy, grandpa.”

Bucky snorts, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “What makes you think I’d wanna watch that shit?”

“Everyone knows that old men like two things,” your voice is light, half-distracted from the sounds of it, “World War Two, or grilling. And honestly, you don’t strike me as the grilling type.”

“I like a good burger.”

“Yeah?” you snort, and Bucky can hear you shift your phone from one ear to the other, “Is that why you called? To hint at being hungry?”

“No,” he exhales, looking out the window, “No, I was trying to reply to your text but I can’t find the fuckin’ space button. Calling is easier.”

“Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he barks with a laugh, sitting up, “Don’t even start — are you hungry?”

“Almost always, why?”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“... You do know who you’re asking, right?”

Bucky grins, a little boyish and a little tired. “Good point. Loser.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one calling me to hangout,” you snort, leaning to prop your feet up on your desk and lean back. Your chair wheels backwards, far enough for you to get a good look down the street. It’s a nice night, cool enough, and it seems like the whole borough is awake, “But, I’m only hanging out if you tell me what the fuck is up with court mandated therapy. I can’t wait another three days.”

Your anxiety has been pricked the last few days over it.

“... Do I get to pick the place?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Great,” he exhales tightly, “I hope you’re in the mood for sushi.”

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Izzy’s is busy, but there’s privacy in the bustle.

Bucky had buzzed your apartment’s ringer and you’d flown down the stairs, looking… alive. The sort of alive that was new — like a fresh bud beginning to bloom in spring. It had made him grin, and he’d watched you push a tress of hair behind your ear as you decided it was warm enough for no jacket tonight. The light of the crosswalk sign lit you up like a star.

He was sweating.

Dr. Raynor was right — that was it, of course it was — that it was getting too warm for his usual outfit. So, he’d settled on the next best thing: a sweatshirt that was big enough and black enough that he could bury himself in it. His hands are tucked neatly into the pockets.

No gloves tonight.

He feels naked.

He shoulders the door and holds it open with the toe of his boot as you duck towards the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth in the back by a large bamboo plant — you weave through the place with a new found confidence. There’s anxiousness in your shoulders but it melts when you look back at Bucky. Like a watchful guard dog, he nods.

You settle into the booth, toss your jacket in the corner, and smirk.

“I get out sometimes,” Bucky remarks before you can even say anything. He shifts in the booth and reaches up to scratch his cheek with his right hand, “Not often, but I do.”

“I didn’t say anything...”

“You were going to,” he nearly smirks back, his brows raised as he adjusts the chopsticks on the table, “I know that look.”

You snort, nudging his boot under the table. That works a huffed little laugh out the man across from you. Almost immediately you can sense anxiousness rolling off him — it’s the tightness in his mouth that gives him away, the way he’s fussing with the soy sauce dish and trying to get it to line up perfectly with the marbling on the table. Worry flashes in your eyes.

“Bucky.”

He raises his head.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“You have to promise not to flip out.”

Your brows knot tightly — but before you can even question what the fuck he means, he’s casually dropping his other hand onto the table.

And you almost don’t notice at first. Your brain fills the gaps in, figuring it’s his glove. But, then you blink and his hand catches the light and you realize it’s not leather. It’s glittering obsidian, garnished with gold, and it’s moving. Flexing. Seams bending and warping and there’s a gentle hum coming from the appendages and you squint because he’s tapping his fingers on the table and there’s a metallic tik-tik-tik that meets your ears.

Then, your eyes jump to his face.

He looks pained.

You’re confused.

And then you’re not.

“You’re —”

You slap a hand over your own mouth. You have to promise not to flip out. Your eyes are eighty miles wide and your jaw is falling open and you’re leaning forward, whispering in a rushed tone because what the fuck.

“You’re that Bucky?!”

Oh, you feel stupid.

The hostess appears, suddenly. You snap backwards in the booth, Bucky tucks his hand away, and you both muster forced smiles to the waitress. She’s young. Pretty. Her name-tag says Sarah.

She asks about drinks.

Bucky gets a beer.

Slowly, you knock your knuckles against the table and drop your head into your hand. The look on your face is exhausted. “Do you guys have Mai Tais?”

The answer is yes. And you’re glad. Because you’re going to fucking need it.

The two of you are quiet until the drinks come — avoiding one anothers gazes for completely different reasons. Bucky is sheepish, a bit mortified, like he always is when people recognize him. It’s why he shaved his fuckin’ head. It worked well enough but… the arm was usually a dead giveaway.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if you could shave your own head and disappear. Because there’s no easy way to explain the weird elation swirling in your chest right now.

Bucky’s first to speak. His beer is in his good hand. He inhales quickly, eyes darting to you as he leans forward and whispers incredulously. He speaks quickly and his words are pointed with an edge of curiosity.

“...What do you mean ‘that Bucky’?”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason you acted like you needed a senior citizen discount. And you know exactly what I mean,” you rush out all while waving your Mai Tai and jabbing the side with the umbrella towards him, “Listen, this is a lot to take in, Mr. Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger—”

“You helped reverse the Snap. You’re the Winter Soldier. That makes you an Avenger—”

Bucky’s shaking his head, eye screwed shut tightly because the sudden equation to his past self being considered a hero is like being socked in the mouth. He stutters over his words and shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying not to hear what you’re saying.

“I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore. And it’s not like I’m not on the fuckin’ roster, doll—”

You hold a finger up, stopping him there, and take a long sip of your sunset colored drink. You swallow. You exhale. Bucky swigs his beer.

“One, don’t call me doll,” you say curtly, then raise a second finger. You lean in and squint, “Two… Christ, the haircut really makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he sighs raggedly, dismissing your scrutiny.

You puff your cheeks out and exhale. Leaning back in the booth, you try not to feel so fucking insane.

“...I can never have you over now.”

Bucky’s brows narrow quickly and his eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“I can’t have you over,” you explain slower with your eyes rooted to the soy sauce in the corner, “Because I don’t think I could ever handle you seeing my signed and framed Captain America poster from his USO tour in 1943.”

Bucky’s face is deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” you gripe, “It’s an original.”

“...You’re a Cap girl,” he says suddenly, leaning back with this look in his eye. It’s less of a question. You can’t pin it down. It looks like he's damn near traumatized.

Bucky thinks — honestly — that this is the cherry on top. Every girl back then was a Cap girl, too. It figures, now, in this new century where he’s making new friends that… as per usual, Steve gets the cake. That fuckin’ pint sized bastard.

He’ll have to tell him about this.

You yank your eyes up to Bucky’s face. His mortification is shifting to surprise to amusement. You’re fast to sit up, mouth opening to fire a retort — but Bucky’s suddenly really enjoying the look of pure horror on your face at the insinuation. He’s smirking. Plain as day. He swigs his beer.

“No, no—” you raise a finger, “No, stop it. Don’t make it fuckin’ weird, Bucky, it’s not like I have his name tattoo’d on my ass. And I knew a girl in college who did.”

His brows rise sharply and you’re finding you’re regretting everything that’s coming out of your mouth.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you guffaw, gesturing for him to show you his hand again, “I wanna see.”

Bucky sighs and plucks his hand from his hoodie pocket.

With a sort of tenderness Bucky wasn’t prepared to handle, you take his metallic hand into your own. There’s an immediate twinge — one that’s procured by flashes of violence from years of being a walking weapon. He breathes, and he reminds himself that this arm is not the same that tethered him to HYDRA all those years ago.

This arm is his, it is not him.

The sensation is different. He isn’t used to anyone touching him like this; he’s used to the feeling of flesh on the other end of a punch, or a throat caught in his palm. Not the gentle pass of your fingers, delicate and purposeful, over his knuckles.

You turn over his hand, eyes alight with curiosity — and Bucky, desperate to stamp out the hotness growing in his gut, moves quickly to flick your nose.

“Ow—”

“Don’t stare,” he says coyly, “It’s rude.”

The waitress is back. His hand is tucked away, and you wrestle the stupid expression off your face long enough to order a plate of assorted maki rolls and some fried tofu. Bucky orders what seems like his usual — shrimp tempura and spicy tuna rolls.

The waitress, Sarah, disappears with a smile.

You’re grinning.

“So… Does this make me the sidekick?” you whisper playfully.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughs, his lips almost darting into a smile.

You cock your head, pushing your chopsticks across the table with a horribly coy look on your face. It’s comical. “...I think this makes me the sidekick.”

“It — stop it — it does not make you the sidekick,” Bucky says slowly as he sips his beer and pins you in the booth across from him, “I’m not a hero. You’d have better luck asking Cap on that one.”

You grow silent. There’s a question hanging on your tongue. You’re wrestling with yourself — Bucky can see that much. He frowns.

“Spit it out, Goose.”

You blink. “Was that a Top Gun reference?”

“You wanted to be the sidekick.”

You wave it off, blinking into your Mai Tai. Your voice is quiet. Even as you speak, there’s a hesitancy akin to walking on eggshells. “What happened to Cap? Is he… alive? He’s gone off the grid. It’s, like, this massive conspiracy theory online.”

“He’s upstate.”

You blink.

“That’s ominous.”

Bucky shrugs. “Someday I’ll take you. It’s… nice.”

You go quiet. You freeze, drink halfway to your mouth. Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. His laugh is more of a scoff than anything.

“Relax, Miss America.”

“Shut up — do you mean that?”

“What, that I think you’re in love with Captain America?”

“No, you bastard, that you’ll take me. To meet him.”

Bucky’s words are easy. They roll off his tongue without a second thought. He feels… okay. Like this part is okay. Not as bad as he thought it could be. His anxiousness isn’t as heavy now. He feels like he isn’t losing you. But then again, he hasn’t gotten to the bad part yet.

“He’s my best friend,” Bucky explains plainly, “And so are you.”

The admission is warm. As easy as breathing. Two months in the making.

“Your only friend,” you say quietly, offering the joke as a cover for the softening tone that dances over your words. It’s affection, you realize, as you mimic his shrug, “But, go on.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Bucky chirps, “But, yea, I mean it. He’d like you.”

You raise your chin, wiggling a bit in the booth. It’s pride — and as much as Bucky likes the look of it, he can’t handle the ridiculousness that comes along with it. But, it’s sort of comforting. He knows this playfulness, this easiness, it’s all because he’s him. You trust him. In.a way, it strikes Bucky with guilt. There are wall of his still built up high. Maybe they’re slowly coming down, but… he’s like a stray dog, slow to trust.

“Safe to say,” you breathe, “I have a few questions.”

“I figured as much.”

You sip your drink and swallow. You raise a hand. “But — I wanna know the boundaries. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pry about shit I have no business knowing, alright? It’s your life and even if we are friends, I don’t need to know everything.”

The relief is almost immediate. He thumbs the label of his beer.

“Ask anything. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you the answers.”

“And I’ll leave it at that,” you say sternly, propping your elbow up on the table and offering your pinky finger, “Until you want to talk about it. Promise.”

He crooks his pinky in yours, squeezing gently. You smile.

Sarah comes back with the food, and then Bucky offers his usual half-exhausted, half-amused smirk.

“You get three questions now. Then, we shut up and eat.”

You fold your hands neatly over themselves, eyeing your food as you try your best to sort out what questions come up with the most urgency. There’s… a lot. I mean, everyone knew about the Avengers — and everyone had their opinions. The Sokovia Accords, Lagos, the Blip… and SHIELD. Years of bullshit culminating around those who were considered the heroes. The kickback usually ended up on everyday citizens like you. After the initial amazement, the reality of it all set in.

But, to Bucky’s point, he wasn’t really an Avenger.

Nowadays, there really wasn’t a team at all. No up-state compound, no leader, no Stark and no Rogers.

You’re sure the GRC will try — that the military will try. Morale and hope and blah, blah, blah.

You narrow your eyes. “How old are you?”

It’s quick. “One hundred and six.”

“How’d they keep you alive that long?”

There’s a wince that flashes across his face like he’s been stabbed with a white hot poker in the ribs. You see a twitch of irritation bubble across his lips. Not with you. No, it’s that this question is still hard for him to answer. Bucky exhales sharply.

“Next question.”

You feel a pang of guilt flare in your chest. You move along.

“Who kept you alive that long?”

“The Russians. HYDRA, if you wanna get specific.”

You exhale and settle on the fact you now have more questions than answers. But, you nod and snatch up your chopsticks. Enough of the twenty questions game.

In all honesty, it’s not like Bucky’s existence was common knowledge. The Winter Soldier was known mostly, sure, to those who had floated in the same circles as him when he was nothing but a rabid cur on a choke chain. He can’t help but be a bit thankful for the minor erasure of his new self — sure, in the eyes of the U.S. government he was a high-level threat to be reintegrated as soon as possible and surveyed at all times. But, to the average New Yorker, he was just another person. Everyone was so used to seeing the heroes in their costumes with their bigger than life personas and…

Bucky was just Bucky.

Even he didn’t really know who that was. He was starting to.

His pardon had come with some flak from some of the more political news outlets but… somehow, the details of the Winter Soldier’s exact crimes were being kept silent. Probably to avoid panic. And, even then, the connection between the newly alive James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier hadn’t been made yet in the public eye. He was glad.

The haircut definitely helped.

It’s like he was a walking classified redaction.

Bucky has a sushi roll in his mouth when he finally speaks. “For such a Captain American fan, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, you’re really not gonna let that go, huh?” you say as you chew, covering your mouth. You swallow and waggle your chopsticks at him, “Listen, it’s been a while since I’ve… y’know, had my Avengers phase. That was years ago. It was at its peak when I worked for SHIELD. And besides, you’re kinda new to the whole superhero scene.”

Bucky frowns. “You worked for SHIELD...?”

“For a year,” you say tightly, “Back before the collapse.”

“Only a year?”

“It was for my graduate program,” you wave it off, “I won out on the most competitive internship NYU had to offer. I was working within their cybersecurity division. I will say I spent more time trying to sort of email phishing scams than anything else, though. I’m sure they saw my record and wanted to keep me away from the juicy stuff.”

Bucky squints.

You offer a sheepish shrug.

“I got into trouble when I was younger,” you sip your drink and sigh, “I always liked computers. I used to spend all my time on forum sites just… reading and talking to people and figuring out how these sites actually worked, so learning how to write my own code was just the next step. When I was fifteen, I learned how to tap phones. At sixteen, I was hijacking my neighbor’s internet conenctions and remotely controlling his laptop.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Yea, well, he was a sitting Senator who was having an affair with the nanny,” you mutter, “And I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him for cash. I wish I could say I learned my lesson.”

Bucky exhales long and hard at that, like he knows where that snap of misguided judgement goes. It’s not like he’s passing judgement onto you, but… like he knows the feeling. And you manage to not feel so small, then — telling him this is easy. It’s not your favorite part of your life by any means, but Bucky is listening. Really listening.

He fiddles with the paper wrapper of the chopsticks.

“So, less a Goose and more a Kevin Poulsen type, huh?”

You snort. “For an old man, I’m surprised you know who that is. But, I wasn’t hacking into the Pentagon at seventeen. I was too busy doing community service.”

“HYDRA had their eyes on him in the 90s,” Bucky mumbles through a bite of spicy tuna, the memory popping into his mind and flying out before he can stop it, “I remember… I thought his username was stupid.”

“Oh, you didn’t like Dark Dante?”

“Like I said,” Bucky chortles, “Stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have liked mine, then,” you smirk lightly, “It’s worse.”

Bucky raises his brows, somehow doubting that entirely. “Really?”

“...I was hackrabb1t for a long time. Y’know, with a ‘one’ for the ‘i’,” you cringe, “People kept thinking I was a furry.”

There’s a pause. Bucky’s face is set in an unreadable emotion. It’s confusion mixed with amusement mixed with… something else. When he speaks, he clears his throat and tilts his head.

“It’s clever. But,” a pause, “What is a furry? I’ve been seeing that word all over PlentyOfFish.”

Your jaw flies open. You raise your hands as your head reels around. Bucky has a look on his face like he knows, he knows he shouldn’t have asked and he definitely shouldn’t have given you enough context to know where he’s seen that phrase before, because now you’re looking at him like he has seventeen heads and they’re all on fire.

“Y’know what, nevermind—”

“—Oh, no, no, there’s way too much to unpack here,” you lean forward, “You’re on PlentyOfFish?”

“ChristianMingle wasn’t really my speed — stop laughing.”

“Shut up — stop it, stop — this is too much,” you say with a high voice, “If you get catfished, I’m not helping you track the person down…”

“—What the hell is a catfish?” he nearly cries, raising both hands in a desperate shrug, “I don’t even know what any of these words mean.”

“Oh, you sweet, naive, innocent, man—”

“No, no, no, no,” he chirps, raising a finger with a deadly look of seriousness on his face, “No, I am not naive or sweet or any of the above. I’ll take ‘cute’, sure, but none a’ those.”

“Is that what the furries call you on PlentyOfFish? Cute?”

He drops his head back against the booth and stares at the ceiling.

“Our friendship was a mistake, rabbit.”

You choke out a laugh. “Shut up, you walking claw machine.”

You’re both laughing now — quieter but sustained and everytime you think you’ve calmed down enough to sip your Mai Tai, you just have to look at the distraught, scruffy man across from you to break into another fit of muffled laughter. Finally, after what feels like forever, you both manage to calm down enough to finish the plates in front of you.

There’s a warmth that’s settled in Bucky’s chest — it’s eaten away at the usual jitter in his legs, the anxious twitch of his fingers. It’s a different emotion. Acceptance, maybe. Comfort. Affection.

Then, while you’re piling the last bit of sushi rice into your mouth when your phone, set on the side of the table, begins to go off. It hums erratically, dancing in a circle, and all you do is stare at the name flashing across the screen. You’re smiling, hugging her. It’s from Jaimie’s wedding — out in some big, wide open orchard with the sun setting behind you. The picture there is old; you were both different people then.

Before… everything.

MOM Morristown, NJ

You scowl and stare.

Bucky blinks.

“You gonna get that?”

Quickly, you snap out of it. You reach and silence the buzzing with two quick taps. Quietly, you offer up a somber sigh.

“I never do.”

Bucky frowns again, this time with a worried look that digs deep into his eyebrows. You ignore it on purpose, pushing your plate away and leaning back in the booth. He knows what you’re doing — you’re avoiding his gaze, and therefore his own questions.

“Rabbit.”

“Oh, is that my new nickname, then?”

“It fits,” he chirps before crossing his arms, strategically hiding his metallic hand, “What’s up?”

You grow quiet — then it spills out.

“I can’t talk to her.”

“Why?”

You chew your lip. You bite your tongue and you hold back on the finer points of your anger — ones dredged up by the still present sting of your check-in with Dr. Hart this afternoon.

Here it comes.

“As a part of my pardon, I was ordered no-contact with my family,” you exhale, controlling the level of your voice, reciting the court papers you’d read over and over and over, “It was deemed that further contact would impact my progress towards reformed behavior and judgment.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide. His jaw is tight.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘pardon’?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms now, to ignore the sting of his look. It’s the kind that screams disappointment more than anything. You hate that you’re getting it from Bucky of all people.

“Like I said, I didn’t learn my lesson when I was a kid,” you shirk, “Last year I was arrested on a number of counts — I’d been evading the FBI, CIA, all of them, for years. I was doing it all for people like me. The ones who got left behind.”

Bucky’s tone is flat. It’s serious. His next sentence is less of a question, more of an order. The cadence is rhythmic and it reminds you of your brother the night he found out about the first time you’d been arrested; you decide, then, that Jaimie and Bucky would have gotten along.

“What did you do?”

“Whatever I could,” you wave your hands, “Identity theft, falsified documents, insurance fraud. Anything. There were people, like me, that in a blink, lost everything. Accidents, deaths, evictions and no one did anything for us. The insurance agencies wouldn’t cover damages related to The Snap. Life insurance policies, social security… It all got snatched up by people at the top while the system collapsed around us. I had to pay for my brother’s funeral out of pocket. And there were hundreds of thousands of people just like me, just trying to get by. And everything failed us.”

Bucky is stuck in silence. It’s like mud, dragging him to the bottom of a pond — the sort that’s dredged with misery. In an instant, his veins are on fire with an anger he hadn’t felt in a while. It manifests itself in the tightening of his jaw. He rubs his face and props his elbows up on the table.

“Why won’t they let you see your family?”

You fiddle with your napkin.

“My brother… His wife was on maternity leave when she disappeared in the Blip,” you mutter, “She came back to no job, a dead husband, and no home. Their apartment complex had been abandoned. She’s trying her best to make ends meet. She lives with my Mom in our old home. Neither of them can find work. They… The court thought that I’d be influenced to do something if I was around them.”

“What, like help?”

“They see me as a criminal,” you manage, “But I’m useful, so they’re keeping me around.”

Silence falls between the two of you once more — and the sad look on your face makes Bucky’s chest tight. He can see anxiety beginning to spill over; you’re wringing the napkin, fiddling with the edges. Suddenly, Bucky realizes you’re feeling exactly how he was an hour or so ago.

Your voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“Looks like we’re two birds of a feather,” he says, knocking the toe of your sneaker with his boot, “Listen, we all do stupid shit. I’ve got a lot worse weighing me down. I get it.”

You look up, sadness glistening in your expression like sun off a lake. It’s harsh. He wants to look away.

He doesn’t.

“... So, that means you’re good with computers?”

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

That’s how you find yourself in Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment at almost midnight, wandering behind him in the long halls and watching curiously as he digs his key from his pocket and shoulders the door open.

It’s a small apartment. One bed, one bath, a kitchenette and that’s really it.

For its size, it’s hardly lived in.

You suppose it makes sense — Bucky didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, and with the hints he’d dropped about his life before The Blip, you were beginning to understand that he may have never really had that much to begin with.

There’s a blanket on the floor by the television and a single couch pillow. It’s tucked in the corner, behind a small sofa. There’s a chair in the living room, one from an old dining set. At the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of papers and a single laptop. Even though all the kitchen’s wares are older models, the bones of the apartment are good. Bare, but good.

You stop in the doorway to the bedroom and stare at the untouched bed. The sheets are tucked tightly in the corners — there’s something militaristic about it. Across the hall is the bathroom. It’s small. You can see a few amenities scattered across the sink’s top.

Being in here feels something like an open wound.

It was lonely. Quiet. Cold.

“We need to make a trip to HomeGoods,” you mumble as Bucky flicks on the lights, “I get the whole minimalist thing, but sheesh.”

“I don’t have a lot,” he says, kicking off his boots by the door and shrugging off his jacket, “And I don’t need a lot either.”

You watch as his shoulders sag a bit, like he can finally let down his guard just a little in his own space. It’s endearing. You perch yourself up on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow him; he moves to fling open a cabinet and grabs a mug. Then, he hesitates.

“You want tea?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Tea?”

“Dr. Raynor said,” Bucky reaches for a container of tea bags from the top shelf. His henley lifts enough to flash a bit of skin along his lower back and you swear you see a scar, “It would help with my anxiety.”

You swing your legs a little. “Then sure.”

“You can use my Captain America mug,” he chirps, laughing a little to himself, “Seeing as you’re such a big fan…”

“God, I regret even saying anything to you,” you spit as you hop down and lean around him to get a look at the mug, “Did you seriously buy that?”

“It was a gift.”

“Bullshit.”

Bucky snorts as you shake your head and wander backwards, eyeing the rest of his apartment with a bit of astonishment. It’s really nothing impressive — but, you suppose it makes sense. Whatever meager disbursement that the government was willing to give Bucky for his efforts in fixing the Snap was better than nothing.

Your gaze hangs on the blanket in the corner.

He watches you; and he notes the sore sadness that dissolves your posture at the sight of the nest in the corner. A bit of shame colors his cheeks as he heats up the water. When Bucky speaks, it’s slow.

“The bed was too soft. I couldn’t sleep on it,” he shifts from foot to foot and focuses on taking the tea bags out and methodically wrapping the strings around the handles, “Dr. Raynor said that’s a typical thing for soldiers to experience when they come home from war.”

You’re quiet for a while after that, only speaking when he rounds the counter with your tea. He offers it up with a tilt of the head.

“You never got to come home, though, right?”

“No,” comes the short reply as you both watch the lights outside the window, “No, I didn’t. Not until now.”

You nudge his arm with yours. You lean a bit. Bucky leans back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he manages after a sigh and sip of the tea, “I can’t just feel sorry for myself anymore. I’m trying to fix the wrongs I did — and that’s why I need your help.”

You quirk a brow. He reaches around you and grabs the stack of papers on the counter. With a steady grip, Bucky presents the photo of a woman who looks strikingly familiar. You can’t place her face, but there’s something about her that feels like a slap across the cheek. She’s young here, in a faded photo with tattered edges. Beside her is a man who is laughing. The photo is candid, and they’re both beautiful. They’re both wearing a uniform — but you can’t place the era or location.

You turn to Bucky for answers.

“Back in the 70s, at the height of the Cold War, HYDRA was working in tandem with the Russians to spy on American forces,” he offers easily, staring out the window, “The American HYDRA cell hadn’t yet been planted. This man, Andrei Kuznetzov, was a spy. He was feeding the Americans information on the Russian nuclear program. His wife, the one in the photo, was ordered to kill him. She refused.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch.

His words are soaked through with pain.

“I,” he continues, “killed him.”

You hold your breath. Then you spare him a mournful look.

“Inessa Sidrova went on to help form the same HYDRA cell that ended up taking over SHIELD here in America,” Bucky mumbles, “She’s dangerous. There’s others like her, ones who I helped create, all over the world. But, she’s my top priority. I just haven’t had much luck tracking her down.”

“That’s why you need my help.”

“I’m 106 years old,” Bucky deadpans, “The microfiches at the library were getting a little tedious.”

“But,” you chirp with a sly smirk, “You figured out how to set up a PlentyOfFish account?”

He shoulders you again as you sip your tea and laugh.

“Shoulda never said anything,” Bucky grumbles, “Dr. Raynor thought it was a good idea. Y’know, to get back out in the world.”

“I can promise you,” you say with a stern shake of the head, “The metal arm will get you plenty of chicks and dudes in due time.”

“Good to know,” Bucky replies as his words lilt with a playful sort of questioning that you purposefully ignore. You’re not feeding his ego today. Maybe tomorrow, after you take a crack at figuring out where this woman is.

It’s going to be a long night.

#vacant mirrors #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #tfatws imagine #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #bucky x reader

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springgirlwaiting4fall · 2 years ago

Note

Hey there, you gorgeous lady!

"I'm at a party I don't wanna be at..." (Yes, I just listened to Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber)

Imagine you're invited to this really, really, REALLY awful party. Who is with you to make it all bearable? Or do you meet them at the party, and everything gets magically better?

Listen here Babe. I have seen Ed Sheeran in concert and have more than a couple of Justin Bieber Songs saved on my phone.

This is so hard because I automatically thought of a story for Trent, but I feel like I have been writing too much for him and I should pick some one else.

So I compromised and made it a friendship piece. I am a virgin at this so be gentle. You have my consent to enter me…

“Why did I have to be social and make friends at my new job?” I thought to myself as I pulled up to my coworker and now close friend Stephanie’s house. There was already multiple cars parked outside, and it looked more like a party than a small get together with work friends as she described it. I was never a cool party girl even in school. In fact my idea of a party was going to someone’s house, sitting in their basement, eating snacks and watching terrible movies. Taking a deep breath, I parked my car and started to walk up the driveway. After being work lunch buddies and happy hour drink friends Steph told me she was engaged to a professional wrestler, I was surprised and had a million questions. And once she realized I was just curious and a fan of AEW and not some gold digger looking for a rich sugar daddy. She invited me to this party where a lot of Cash’s (her fiancé) co workers would be attending. I wasn’t nervous to be meeting famous athletes, it was having to make small talk and hoping nobody thought I was the weird girl that made my stomach turn into knots.

I knocked on the door, Steph answered and looked a little overwhelmed. “Come on in.” The living room was filled with people, a line for the bathroom was already forming, and their backyard was filled with groups of people. “The food and drinks are in the dining room.” Steph started leading the way, but stopped. “John Please do not hump our sofa for a BTE clip.” Steph gave me a weak smile.

I knew she didn’t want to leave me, especially since she had to convince me to come after learning how uncomfortable I was at parties. But Steph needed to protect the sofa she had to convince Cash to buy. Cash thought all couches should be leather and reclined, before Steph. “I will be fine. Go.” Steph looked at me, not sure if I would be okay, but I gave her a reassuring smile.

I did a quick walk around and noticed that I was the only person from the office. Everyone must have been from AEW. There was no where to stand without looking like I was ease dropping on anyone conversations. I guess I could introduce myself to someone and start small talk, but I wasn’t ready for that. I headed into the dinning room. I made a plate and grabbed a soda. I was awkwardly standing by myself eating carrots and humus feeling like I was 15 years old again when Cash spotted me.

He sometimes came to happy hours or trivia nights. I really liked him and thought Steph and him were the perfect couple. “How ya doin?” Cash tipped his beer at me.

“Im good. Thanks for inviting me.” I wondered if I was the only one in the world that felt awkward talking to their friends significant other when their friend wasn’t there.

“No problem.” Somebody else rang the doorbell and Cash ignored it. “There was supposed to only be like 12 people here. But word got out and I felt like a jerk telling people no they weren’t invited.”

I had no idea what to say to this, but I didn’t have to say anything. I saw Cash turn his head and frown. Next thing I know he was saying “excuse me,” and turning around to yell. “Silver I know my girl told you not to hump our furniture. What makes you think you can fondle our statues?”

I finished my carrots and threw out my plate. I checked my phone and I saw that if I left now I could get home in time to watch the new Rick and Morty. I was about to grab another soda for the road when I heard barking coming from a hallway. Steph and Cash dog Pawletta was baby gated in a hallway, barking trying to get anyones attention. I couldn’t resist myself, I jumped over the gate, sat down, and started petting the pup. She was so happy for attention she jumped in my lap and gave me kisses. Im currently in a studio apartment and work long hours. So having a dog wouldn’t be very responsible right now, so I was loving this.

I wasn’t sure how long I was sitting with Pawletta, but eventually someone else jumped the gate and also started giving her pets. It was Orange Cassidy. I didn’t want to bother him. I knew from experience that the people who focus on pets at the party, weren’t into talking to people.

I was zoning out just giving the dog behind the ear scratches when OC talked. “Name.”

“Oh Pawletta.” I kept up the scratches and didn’t notice OC raise his eyebrows at me.

“I meant yours.” I felt my face heat up. I told him my name, he nodded and than said his name.

“There you are.” Trent came up to the baby gate and jumped over it. He immediately started giving the dog pets. It was clear he was talking to OC. I started to play on my phone, so they wouldn’t think I was trying to listen to their conversation. “Chuck, Kris and I were looking all over for you.” Trent sat down and let Pawletta jump into his lap. “We should have asked Cash if he had a dog first thing.”

Next thing I knew Chuck Taylor and Kris Strandler were jumping over the gate. Everyone was taking turns petting Pawletta. I was wondering if I should go since no one was talking, did they not want me around?

I made eye contact with Trent and felt little goosebumps on my neck. I just couldn��t help it, he was just so good looking. “What’s your name?”

When I told him my name, he gave me a weird look. “I was talking to the dog.”

How could this happen to me again, than I heard boos. Chuck, Kris and OC were booing Trent.

Chuck yelled out “lamest way to flirt ever,” and from the corner of my eye I saw Trent shrug his shoulders.

Kris was graceful enough to change the subject. “I like your shirt,” as she pointed to the band logo.

“Thanks I….”

I was cut off my Cash yelling. “That’s Enough. Everyone OUT.”

Chuck, Trent, and OC started to crack up laughing. Kris stood up and started to help pull up each guy.

OC stretched. “I could go for pancakes.”

I watched as each one jumped over the baby gate after giving the dog one last pet. Than they walked away.

I was debating on if I should offer to help Steph get her house back in order when Trent circled back to me. “Aren’t you coming?”

I nodded my head and Trent held out his hand to help me over the gate. I told myself that Steph would rather spend the rest of her night with Cash alone. Plus pancakes right now sounded very good.

#aew #trent barreta #chuck taylor #orange cassidy #kris statlander #best friends #party #two bodies one brain #top girls out

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ecto-american · 4 years ago

Text

Stuck (Stubbornly)

Phic Phight Oneshot for @deuynndoodles : Jack and Maddie are stuck in the Ghost Zone. Fortunately for them, Phantom's around and willing to help out. However, they'll rather be arrested by a ghost warden and put in ghost jail before they'd allow some teenage menace to help them. Oh wait...

Read on AO3 or FFN

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"Should we call Jazz or Danny?" Jack suggested.

Maddie stared out into the unending void of the Ghost Zone. It hurt to think that their voyage, a trip that they had been planning out for months, would end so soon already, but they had barely made any progress when they realized just how much fuel the Specter Speeder was guzzling. Something was wrong.

"...Not yet," she determined. "We should have emergency fuel. We should be able to get back without any problems. Can you refill?"

"You got it," Jack replied, and he got out of the co-pilot seat. She could hear him go to the back, and shuffling around. He didn't say anything for a while, and that immediately began to unnerve her, but she kept her attention on the dashboard, trying to think of what went wrong when building. Was their fuel lines loose? Was there gas leaking everywhere? "Uh, Mads? I'm not seeing it?"

Her blood froze, but no need to panic. Maybe he just didn't see…

Maddie walked to the back and checked. And checked. Moved some stuff around, checked some more.

They had no emergency fuel.

"Why don't we go outside and check the engine?" Jack suggested. "Maybe we can figure something out." With a dry mouth, she nodded, and they hesitantly went outside to check.

There were no ghosts around, thankfully, just an endless green void. They knew that they would be safe breathing in the GZ air, thanks to their prior tests and experiments. They hooked themselves to a rope using a carabiner clip, the other end tied tightly to the speeder. Floating unnerved her, and she kept a hand on the speeder as they went to the front of the speeder. Jack popped the hood, and smoke floated out, making Maddie's heart sink. This was definitely not a good sign at all, or something that could be a simple fix.

"Need some help?"

Maddie looked over her shoulder to see…

"Absolutely not," she scowled. Phantom was floating nearby.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He floated up a bit higher to glance at their vehicle. "Looks like you got. Well, uh, basically car trouble."

"Leave. Now."

Phantom opened his mouth to say more, but Maddie pulled her ecto-gun out.

"We don't want help from some lowlife ghost!" she hissed. Phantom put his hands up in surrender and flew away.

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An hour passed, and they decided to take a break working on the engine. Every possible problem that she could think of had been exhausted, and she had to take a break to both cool down and think. She sat on the steps leading into the speeder, with Jack deciding to lay on the floor of the inside.

"Fuel line wasn't broken, none of the lines were cut or had knicks. There's no reason it should be draining so much gas," Jack thunk aloud. "There shouldn't be anything besides the engine that the gas is going to, and there's no weird random connections to anywhere else. The battery's still good."

"And we forgot the emergency fuel," Maddie slumped over. Jack sighed.

"It's my own fault," he replied. "I should have checked to make sure Jazz and Danny had properly put all the supplies in. A proper exploration team always triple checks before a voyage."

Maddie could only give a low hum of agreement as she stared out into the zone. She felt somebody pat the side of the speeder, and she scowled as she saw Phantom grinning at her, giving a half way.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"I brought help this time," Phantom told her, and he jerked a thumb behind him. It was finally then that she noticed the Red Huntress. Maddie raised an eyebrow.

"How in the world…" she murmured, only to trail off as she stared at the two of them. Jack sat up, and he poked his head out of the speeder.

"Oh dope! It's my favorite huntress!" Jack boomed. Red seemed bashful at the comment, shifting her weight onto her other foot and rubbing her upper arm.

"I mean, if you don't trust me or want my help, I figured you'd be willing to let a human help," Phantom explained, motioning towards Red.

"So, do you need help?" Red finally spoke up. She reached down to pat her left calf. "I have some tools with me, but I can always go and fetch more."

Something in Maddie's gut told her that this was very, very odd. Humans and ghosts working together so...willingly like this. She had taken note that Phantom and Red hadn't hunted each other down or fought like they used to, but she just assumed that they didn't quite run into each other that much anymore. Both were unpredictable with odd schedules and routines.

She glanced at Jack, who despite his initial enthusiasm, seemed to share her feelings, and she shook her head no.

"We'll be fine," she insisted. "You two should leave."

Red stared at Phantom, who shrugged his shoulders.

"So, wanna just go get some boba tea?" Phantom asked.

"And just leave them here?" Red scowled, motioning to the Fentons.

"They don't want our help," he replied. Red glanced from Phantom and the Fentons, who studied the two of them. She finally shrugged as well.

The two began to idly chat as they flew off, their conversation becoming more and more distant.

"That was weird," Maddie mused.

"Yeah, I thought she and Phantom were rivals," Jack mused. Maddie shrugged. Right now she wasn't too invested in the mystery. She'd worry about that later when they got home.

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Judging by their phones (which they had worriedly learned that they oh-so-helpfully had no reception in the land of the undead), another hour passed since Phantom and Red had left. Jack was deep into the engine, fiddling with a possible solution to the problem as Maddie stood nearby. She continued to think as she looked around. She was surprised that they hadn't been bothered by now.

"Trespassing in an unauthorized vehicle that is also a real world item," a deep southern voice boomed. Well, she absolutely spoke too soon.

They whipped their heads to see a huge, hulking figure, an all white man with a black hat, black gloves and wearing a suit of white.

"Ghost!" Jack squawked. He scrambled to grab his gun, Maddie already having hers drawn. The ghost frowned deeply. Maddie was finally very aware of just how many ghosts were surrounding them. Too many to count, but they all looked exactly like the ghosts that terrorized Amity Park years before, all identical and matching in uniform that resembled a SWAT team. There was also vehicles resembling police cars and police vans.

"Resisting arrest. That's against the rules," he continued. He opened a large green and white book in his hands, flipping to another page. "Assault and battery with a deadly weapon." He glanced up at them with an angry glare. "Y'all are going away for a long, long time."

"We're not going anywhere," Jack frowned. He charged up his weapon.

Maddie looked around, and she shivered anxiously. There was no way they could take on all these ghosts. She nudged Jack, and he side-eyed her curiously. She lowered her weapon, and she used her head to motion around them. Jack blinked as he looked himself, and all of his confidence left him. He also lowered his weapon.

"We'll go," Maddie finally spoke. The ghost smirked, and he knocked on the side of a police van. The back opened up.

"Surrender your weapons," he ordered.

One of the SWAT ghosts came forward with his arms outstretched. Reluctantly, the adults handed their weapons over, detaching themselves from the speeder and getting into the van.

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Their cell was a lot like a normal cell, and it was just them. Iron bars, no windows, single toilet, and four bunk beds. Jack was laying on one of the beds, facing the fall, as Maddie laid on the one across from him, staring up at the bunk bed above her.

Of course. Of course they ended up in ghost jail. It was just their luck. Though a scientist part of her was giddy at knowing that ghosts had some kind of legal system! Who would have known!

As she tried to start figuring out what on earth to do, she heard something banging against the jail bars.

She immediately sat up, staring to see Phantom making the noise by banging something in his hand on the bars. He was staring at them with a bright smile, and it only made her mood drop even more.

"Phantom!" Maddie hissed, standing fully and going up to the bars. "How did you find us?"

"We came back to check on you guys and see if you changed your minds," Phantom explained. Jack got up from his own bed to come over, looking surprised to see the infamous ghost teen. "Technus and Skulker were looting your speeder, and they said Walker arrested you. So we came by as quickly as we could."

The Fenton adults could see Red nearby, glancing around the corner. She was keeping watch.

"We're not going with you," Jack replied. Phantom rolled his eyes.

"Okay, and what? Stay here forever? Never see your kids again?" he asked. Their faces instantly dropped. "So do you wanna go home or not?"

Maddie narrowed her eyes at him before noticing that he was holding a metallic-looking cup of boba tea and raising an eyebrow.

"You brought a snack with you," she said. Phantom shrugged, offering it to her.

"Want a sip?"

"No! Just!" Maddie glanced at Jack worriedly, and he mirrored her expression. They, unfortunately, knew that they really...didn't have a choice. "Get us out of here!"

"Danny, you may wanna hurry it up," Red's voice called out softly to them. Maddie did a double take. Oh yeah. Danny Phantom. Huh, she kinda forgot about that.

Phantom nodded, and he dropped the boba tea, letting it float in the air as he phased them out of the jail cell. Maddie stared at him.

"Wait, you can just phase through?" she asked. Phantom shrugged.

"Uh, sorta yes, sorta no," he replied, grabbing his tea.

"Danny!" Red's voice hissed. Phantom glanced to her.

"Okay, so super quick rundown of Ghost Zone rules. In the Ghost Zone, you guys are the ghosts, so you basically can fly and phase through objects, so Red can phase through objects and you guys too, but this is also a human cell that only I can get you out, and speaking out getting out, we need to leave. Now," Phantom quickly explained. As soon as he finished, he motioned for them to follow him.

He began to fly towards Red, and they jogged after him. Phantom peered around the corner before pulling back. Red did too.

"How's our escape route looking?" Phantom asked. He took a sip of his drink as Red pulled up a map on her suit. She studied it for a bit.

"Hmm. We may run into some trouble," Red mused. "Best bet is for me to take Mr. and Mrs. Fenton and phase with them out of here, and…" She gave a weird pause. "We'll uh. Wait for you to escape on your own." Phantom sucked on his drink, and the sound of air coming through as he ran out of boba tea grinded Maddie's nerves.

"Oh would you just!" Maddie scowled, and she slapped the cup out of Phantom's hands.

"Hey! I paid for that!" Phantom cried out. He scrambled to pick it up. "They were having an unlimited refills special if you got that cup!" Red snorted in amusement.

"Danny, they kicked you out for getting too many refills anyway," she reminded him. Phantom made a face.

"Well maybe they shouldn't advertise it as unlimited refills then," he retorted.

"Most people don't drink twelve cups of boba tea," she replied.

"Maybe I should be rewarded for being able to drink that much then."

"Hm, we'll debate it later," Red replied. "Look, I'll get them out and meet you on the other side. Got it?"

"Got it," Phantom replied. To Maddie's horror and shock, Red lifted her visor up, but not all the way. Just enough to expose her lips, and she leaned into Phantom to give him a light peck on the lips.

"Be careful," she told him. Phantom nodded.

"I will," he promised. "If I'm not with you in five minutes. Just." He paused. "Leave without me, get the Fentons home, and then come back for me." Red nodded as her visor went all the way down.

"Grab my hands," Red instructed the Fentons. Maddie blinked, reluctantly taking one of her hands. Jack took the other. Red summoned her board, jumping in the air and allowing it to manifest beneath her. She held onto them tightly and flew through the walls.

Instinctively, Maddie closed her eyes as she flew through. Only to feel no impact. A blur of walls impaired her vision with constant flashes of the darkness of being in a thick jail wall and the light of the prison rooms and hallways. She blinked as the neutral green skies of the Ghost Zone finally greeted her, and Red continued flying until they were a decent distance from the prison. And now that she had a moment to think…

"What the hell are you thinking?" she exclaimed to Red. The huntress snapped her attention to her in confusion.

"What? You would have died if we let you stay in there!" she scowled.

"No, not that!" Maddie clarified. "I mean, thank you so much for helping us, but you? And Phantom?"

"Exactly!" Jack agreed. "He's an absolute menace! He's a danger! Don't you guys fight? What happened to all of that?"

She could see a glimpse of Red's face under her heavily tinted visor, and Maddie was sure that the girl looked embarrassed and was likely turning as red as her suit.

"Oh man, it's a looong story," Red sighed heavily. "Uh, best and easiest and quickest way I can explain it is; a lot of the things that made me angry with him was a misunderstanding, and I found out that he's...actually a really sweet guy. I know it's weird to say, but, um. Well, I've never met a guy who was so kind, thoughtful and romantic. My life's kinda hectic, and he just...he really goes out of his way to make it easier on me."

"How so?" Jack wondered.

"Well, like. He does a lot of my household chores and stuff like laundry, bringing me lunch when I have long shifts at work, listening to me when I have a bad day," she explained. "He makes life a lot easier and better."

How cute. If it wasn't between a dead teenage menace and this poor, obviously manipulated girl. It honestly reminded Maddie a lot of her own Danny and his little girlfriend, Valerie. Valerie told her a few times about Danny doing some of her chores at home since Valerie was so busy working and doing school. It kinda pissed Maddie off, since Danny never seemed to remember his own chores at home, but she never felt like bringing it up to him because, well, at least he was really good to her. She'd be ashamed of him if he was any lesser.

"Hey!" Phantom called out as he zoomed towards them. "Let's go! Quick!"

Red nodded. She passed Jack off to Phantom, and the two teenagers flew the Fentons home.

#phics #my phics #phic phight 2021

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visd3stele · 3 years ago

Text

magic and kids

summary:

A/N: I really hope you like it. Thank you for your requests. Loved writing it.

art credit: @phantomrin

TW: none

@britishbookworm2 requested (if you want to leave a request as well, click)

masterlist

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

It's been four years since Taryn decided the mortal world would be a more suitable place to raise her child than Elfhame. Even if her sister was now High Queen, the fairies would still make life hard for her and her baby. Maybe not on purpose, she admits it. But magic runs wild, free and unstoppable. Used to it, the Fae Folk barely notices the dangers. And frankly, they don't care. Not allowed to use it on humans as cruelly as before, some meaner courts claim innocent ignorance. How can an entire society of enchanted beings change overnight? How could they be expected to adjust to human fragility all of a sudden?

So Taryn took her baby, promised her sister to visit and fled to Heather and Vivi's. It wasn't as hard as she'd thought. Getting used to the mortal world, that's it. And if her baby had longer canine than normal, or his ears sharpened to pointy edges to the top, it passed unnoticed. Her son certainly didn't stood out the way Vivi did, even with light brown eyes that looked orange in the sun and rusty red hair. He didn't need much glamouring either, not like Oak, Oriana or Madoc. By the time she sent him to preschool his hair was long enough to cover the ears and no one seemed to notice the teeth even without magic.

For all the talk Taryn did on how she wanted her son to be free of his father in all ways, snapping at Oak when the boy tried to teach him magic before he knew how to properly walk and forbidding her family to bring Fairyland up, she named him Renard.

Fitting, though not what she should have done. Maybe part of her can't let Locke go, not entirely. She knew he didn't particularly wanted the baby, that everything he promised her were pretty lies. But for a few months, it has been real. Their marriage, their love, their lives. She saw her dreams come true, one after another: the mistress of an important household, throwing parties for courtiers, motherhood.

Now that everything she wanted snaped broken in tiny little pieces carried away by harsh winter wind, Taryn Duarte couldn't phantom having her child become like his father.

"It has nothing to do with magic, for fuck's sake!" Vivi exploded once, after Taryn better than not threw Oak and Oriana - who came to visit - out of the apartment for trying to reach Renard's magic. "He won't become a sly, selfish fox if he can change appearance or grow horses out of leaves. It's all about his up-bringing!"

"I want him to be normal, Vivi! That's why I took him here!"

Renard has been barely one year old when the argument happened. But it was enough to take his mother's words to heart.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Four years old Renard and twelve years old Oak played outside, jumping in crusty piles of autumn leaves. The princeling hadn't given up his plans to teach his cousin magic. He refused to let go of such opportunity: a friend he didn't have to hide of, one he could play with like he used to in Elfhame.

"Hey, Ren-Ren," Oak said, "check this out!" The older boy held up his hand, brows furrowed in concentration, lip grazed between his teeth. Nothing happened for an alarming amount of time. And then... the leaves twirl around the two cousins, splashing then with guts of wind and scarce dew as it swept them up in a friendly tornado.

Renard chuckled in delight, stretching to catch some of the closer leaves. But as soon as he touched one, the whole thing fell apart. "No!" Do it again, Oak. Do it again."

"I'm sorry, Ren-Ren," Oak faked a yawned and laid on the ground. "Magic is very serious business. Very consuming. I'm too tired to even move." He let his eyes close dramatically, watching Renard between his lashes. Truth be told, every time he did magic Oak felt good. Vibrant. As if the earth itself reached out and gave him life. But Renard didn't need to know that yet. He can definitely learn it by himself if Oak's plan works out.

The younger boy pouted and dropped on the ground. "Not fair," he muttered to himself.

"You know, Ren-Ren, you're half fae. That means there's a pretty good chance you're magic too."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't know that. Come on, give it a try!"

"No, Oak! I'm not magic. I'm not like Father, I'm like Mom. Like Mom, just like that."

Oak straightened himself, but didn't rose from the ground. "Ok, Ren-Ren. Listen up. Magic is not bad. It's fun. Don't you think it's fun?"

"Yes!" Renard nodded enthusiastically. "It's super fun. When you do it, Oak." At that the named boy own enthusiasm faded away in an instant.

"Thank you, Ren-Ren," he deadpanned. "But do you know what's more fun than watching me practice magic?" Not giving the kid a chance to answer, to even take in the question, really, Oak said "To do it yourself."

"Do you really think I should try, Oak?" Clearly, the little boy was attracted to magic. And clearly something was stopping him. But his older cousin slowly made whatever that was seem less big and scary, dragging him along in his qualms.

"Totally!"

Renard pushed his lips forward with his tongue, sticking it out through the gap in his teeth. Caramel eyes shone with desire, his red hair flown around by a cold, pleasant wind. "Ok," he gave in, as expected. "How do I do it?"

The smirk that lightened up Oak's face can only be describes as evil. Though no ill intention hid behind it. Only the knowledge his plan worked out, just like his sister, Jude's.

"Listen to me very carefully, alright? There is not just one way to make magic, Ren-Ren. You have to find your own. But for now, try the basics. Think really hard on what you want to happen. Something easy. Got anything in mind?" Renard frowned, then his eyes landed on a tree which still had some green leaves on its branches and nodded.

"Perfect! Now, imagine whatever you want to happen. Imagine it happening. Are you imagining?"

"Yes."

"No!" Oak groaned. "If you're paying attention to me, then it means you're not focusing on magic."

"But how will I know what to do if I don't listen to you?"

"I told you! Magic is your own, Ren-Ren. It comes naturally. So, dig it up. Use your imagination."

Renard tried to shut out the world around him, picturing the sole tree in his mind. A warm pull tugged at him and he followed. His magic, he tried not to dwell on the joy, but instead focusing on his practice. His magic reaching out. Because he reached out first.

The boy allowed the warmth to take control, guiding him through it. The tree now carved in his mind by detail wasn't enough. He needed action. But just imagining the leaves to fall wouldn't do. Renard couldn't say how exactly he knew it. He just did. Something more tender was needed. The half fae kid had to imply what he wants and trust his magic to follow his lead.

So Renard made himself cold. Chilly. Feeling a breeze of wind creeping inside his clothes, whipping his skin gently. Enough to rip a leaf off a tree, though. Which it did. The wind he summoned couldn't be felt, not really. Only by himself and the green leaves that departed one by one from their branch as if plucked by an invisible hand.

Oak gasped. Then grinned. And then he laughed. Renard broke free of his concentration, pleased to see his magic didn't falter. Not until every and each green leaf from his chosen tree didn't fall. The sight made him still in awe for a couple of seconds. But soon enough he joined his cousin with a bubble laugh, jumping up and down and running to tackle Oak in a tight hug.

"I did it, Oak! I did it!"

"Yes, you did, Rem-Ren. Indeed, you did. Congrats!"

"Can we show auntie Vivi? And auntie Oriana?"

When Madoc and Oriana first came in the mortal world, Taryn wanted nothing to do with them. But years of being cared for by the blue skinned, white haired, pink eyes woman showed their tale. She agreed to see her, but only her. She could be part of her child life, if she wanted.

"Sure. But don't you want to show your mom first?"

"Mom and auntie Heather work a lot. We can show them later." Renard said, but he felt his magic shrinking at the thought of his mother. His Mom didn't like his father. And his magic comes from his father. Is that why his magic doesn't want to reveal itself near Taryn? He hoped it was just him overthinking it, because he loves his Mom and wants to share this with her.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Oak stayed with auntie Oriana, who was his mother, so Renard couldn't bring himself to be upset over it. He would want to be with his mother as much as he can as well. So he did a little trick for auntie Vivi, who told him to stay where he was, brought a camera and ordered him to glamour the tea cups again. Renard made them look like pumpkins, since the Halloween being over the corner made him impossibly anxious - in a good way.

Turns out even mortal technology can be fooled by fae's magic. Vivi showed the clip to Heather, who coed over him until Taryn came home.

"Hello, treasure. How was your day? Wanna give mommy a kiss?"

Renard jumped into his mother's arms, pressing a strong kiss on her cheek before starting to tell her about all the fun he had with cousin Oak. "And then he said I should try magic too."

Tamryn stilled. "And?"

"Look, Mom!"

Renard broke a vase, then, with a twitch of his fingers put it back together. "Auntie Vivi says I'm a natural."

"Does she? That's amazing, sweetheart."

But his mother didn't sound thrilled. In fact, her smile wasn't even a smile at all, but a thin line. "I'm sorry, mommy. I knew I shouldn't've done it, but I didn't know why. Now I know: you don't want me using my magic. It'll make me bad, like father."

Renard pushed his lips up front, scrunched his nose up, wiggled his toes, all in an atempt to stop the tears hurting his eyes from falling. When he realized it was in vain, he took off running to his room.

When Taryn entered minutes later she found her son curled on his left side in the middle of the bed, hugging a black goat plushie his uncle Cardan gave him on his birthday tight to his chest. She hated herself for causing the pain struck look on her son's face.

"Hey, sweetie."

"Hi, Mom." Renard wiped his nose with his jumper's sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. Mommy was just scared, but that's not your fault. You could never be bad. Magic is not bad. Of course you can practice all you want, but we'll settle some ground, basic rules first. Ok?"

"Really?"

"Rules you can never, ever break. Really."

"Thank you, Mommy! You're the best! Just wait until Oak hears about it."

A/N: Renard means fox in french. Also: oops, guess I finished it earlier than expected and didn't really felt like waiting days to post it 😅

#taryn duarte #folk of the air #cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #tfoa #oak greenbriar #madoc #magicfolk #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #wicked king #my fic #my writing #imagines #imagine #fanfic

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jammin-strawberry-jammin · 5 years ago

Text

The Butterfly Effect-Part 1 ~Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Warning!⚠️ violence, cussing

Previous Parts: Prologue Prologue 1.5

Next Part: Part 2

You smiled to yourself as you basked in the warmth of your bed.

You felt like you could stay in your little bed of heaven forever. However, that feeling quickly retracted as your four year old daughter executed her methods of waking you up.

“Mama! It’s time to wake up!” Miyoko yelled from on top of your back. You pretended to be asleep. Miyoko shook your shoulder. You “snored” loudly.

“Mama!” She laughed while shaking your shoulder harder. You rolled over with a loud fake yawn while stretching out your arms. You grabbed Miyoko and gently pinned her onto her back.

“How dare you wake me up!” You joked.

“Your punishment is death...by tickles!!!”

Miyoko squealed as she tried to get away from your vengeful fingers but it was no use. You tickled her until your fingers got tired. You then kissed her forehead and then let her run away from you. You got out of bed and started on making lunches for the two of you.

“Miyoko! Make sure you get dressed for school! Don’t forget you’re going to the Disaster Museum today! So you need to wear tennis shoes!” You yelled to your daughter from the kitchen.

“I know Mama!”

After you were done making and packing lunch for you and Miyoko, you went back to your room to get ready for your own work.

As soon as you were done getting ready, you went to Miyoko’s room to check up on her.

When you got to her bedroom, you smiled at what you saw. Miyoko was doing different hero poses in her mirror. You couldn’t help but gush at how cute she was with her overall dress and light pink t-shirt.

“Come on my little hero, I need to do your hair,” you said after looking at the time. Miyoko grinned at her nickname and bounced over to you. “I can’t wait until I get my quirk so then I can be a real hero!” Miyoko said as you began to brush her spikey blonde locks the best you could. “Oh yeah, those bad guys won’t stand a chance against you,” you encouraged, but in reality you were getting slightly worried. Miyoko and Hiroyuki were the only two in their class who haven’t gotten their quirks yet. You were beginning to wonder if they ever would.

You clipped Miyoko’s spikey blonde bangs to the side with a barrette that had her favorite hero’s emblem on it, half of a snowflake and half of a flame. “Okay my Little Hero, after you get your shoes on, we’ll be all set. Let’s get going,” you said as you grabbed the bentos and your keys from off the counter. Miyoko quickly got her tennis shoes on and you both rushed out the door.

~*~

At first, the idea of working for a hero agency sounded fun.

To be fair, it was exciting being around all that action everyday. But after that initial excitement of actually working under a Pro Hero wore off, you realized that it’s just like every other mundane office job.

Sure, there are a lot of really interesting jobs in a hero agency like going out in the field and helping pedestrians, catching criminals and stopping robberies. With jobs like these, you’d think working under a hero agency would be the coolest thing ever. But somehow, you pulled the short straw and got stuck with all the paperwork.

Your job is to deal with the damages that come after the big fights. You’d be surprised at how much damage is actually caused during a criminal pursuit if you didn’t see it everyday. Hero agencies get into law suits all the time for all the damages caused during a pursuit. So, they started hiring people like you to sort out these lawsuits. You wouldn’t call yourself a lawyer, though. You worked more as a freelancer. Your job consisted mostly of you watching videos of past pursuits, recording live action pursuits for evidence, distinguishing damages that belonged to whatever agency that you were currently employed under, writing those damages down (along with their costs), and sending them off for people to get compensation. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself the best, but you were heavily sought after.

The crime alert started blaring. You stood up from your cubicle. “What’s happening? Give me the details, Anko,” you asked your co-worker as you got your blazer jacket on. “The pursuit started as a simple store robbery, but it has escalated into a high risk pursuit. You better get going, some idiot keeps setting off explosives,” Anko told you with a bored tone in her voice. A funny feeling nestled into your chest. “Where is this happening?” You asked as you grabbed everything you would need. “Well, I think they said they’re at the Disaster Museum now.” Realization hit you like a train.

“Miyoko!”

~*~

“Come back here you bastard!”

The villain didn’t stop. In fact, he laughed and just kept running. Eventually he turned to go into a service door of a nearby building. “Hey Bakugo! We gotta make a plan Bro! I think the building that villain just went into is the Disaster Museum. We can’t just run in there, we don’t know how many civilians are in there,” Kirishima yelled while chasing after the other Pro.

Bakugo huffed out an angry breath of air. “You and Dunce Face go to the main entrance and see if you two can start evacuating people out the front. I’ll stay on this shitty villain’s trail,” Bakugo told Kirishima. Kirishima smiled. “You got it Bro!” He said before calling to Kaminari and turning around towards the front entrance. Bakugo ran faster after the villain.

When he got inside the building, it was dark. Bakugo guessed they must have entered through a repairs part of the museum. There were broken down animatronics scattered all over the room. A lot of the props looked like they’d been there awhile based on the inch thick dust that had gathered on top of them. Some of them were saved by some sheets covering them, but those sheets didn’t stop the floor from getting dusty. Bakugo could easily see a trail of footprints on the floor from the villain that had recently made his way through here and he started following them.

The trail led to a closet in the room. Bakugo reached for the handle. The villain busted through the door and started running towards the center the museum. Bakugo quickly recovered from the blow of door and chased after the villain again. This time the villain was chased into a fairly small control room.

“You have no where to go you bastard, so don’t even try running again,” Bakugo said as he blocked the entrance. The villain gave a malicious grin and laughed.

“I don’t have to. I’m right where I want to be,” the villain said before revealing a bomb sewn to his chest.

*~*

Hello guys! We’re finally getting into the real story! I’m excited! Tell me what you guys think! Also if you wanna be put into the tags list just tell me!

Tags

@orokayagi

@venusianpink

@confusedpimp

@katsukisuwus

@downlowhoee

@bleachbetch

@rise-from-the-ahes-the-phoenix96

@bakakaashii

@videogameboiwhowins

@just-another-quirkless-loser

@hot-pocket01

@aurorahoneybuns

@wassupducks

@kellyyween

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trytobreatheandletgo · 3 years ago

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Dear Debra,

I get it now. I understand what happened. He totally charmed you, wooed you, made you feel loved and special. He told you how beautiful you were and he filled you with all these ideas of how perfect you were for him. How he wished he'd found you sooner so he could love you longer and how he doesn't know how he will ever live without you. He told you how awful I was, how mean I was. How I didn't satisfy him. But he left out how he almost lost our house, how the sheriff was showing up with summons or Process servers were ringing our doorbell on early Saturday mornings because he wasn't paying taxes, assessment fees or the mortgage and how he lied to me over and over and over again about what was really going on. I bet he didn't tell you all that. He just said I was frigid, mean and he never had any good ideas. He didn't tell you how many years ago a co-worker of his emailed me about how he was involved with a woman at work (sound familiar?) named Jackie. He won't tell you how he's screwed his daughter over for college by not filing income taxes for the past few years. He doesn't tell you all of that. He just charms you, because that's what he does. He shows you this grand and admirable and desirable (safe) persona.

He sent you a movie clip from WHEN HARRY MET SALLY. The very wonderful scene where Harry finally admits his love for Sally! It's an amazing scene. One WE treasured (or at least I thought WE did) and one where he QUOTED "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." to me when he PROPOSED! So he recycled it for you. He also recycled songs that he used to play for me. SRV Pride & Joy and some Little Big Town songs. Yes, I am aware of these things. Yes, I am devastated to know that he took something that was deeply personal between us and gave it to you. But then, that's what he does. He recycles what works to suit his wants and needs. To get the optimum results.

No wonder you act with the confidence of a woman who feels loved. Wanted. Respected. Spoiled with affection and tokens of his admiration. Things like a bracelet with your kids' names on it, love notes and cards with arrow hearts on them, day trips to Chicago and long walks talking, hugging and kissing into the wee hours of the morning after shift. Texts with little hearts and words of support and caring. Secret phones and meetups to add to the thrill. Meanwhile, he treats me like the plague and is arrogant, spiteful, vindictive and mean while showing you the best of himself. I used to blame you. But I remember his charms. I remember how he could make you feel like the most loved and wanted person on the planet. How he shows you how loving and caring he is. I remember that. He took that away from me. Had to make me the ogre. Flaunted you in front of me, driving me crazy and treating me with arrogance and disdain while saying how wonderful you were because you were easy to talk to, you got him, you were his soulmate. I hear you have or are divorcing your husband, Joe. I'm so very sorry to hear this, because you're planning for a future that may or may not happen the way you think it will.

Someday, you will be standing where I am, wondering wtf? Did you know that he tells me he was "confused" with you and that you didn't mean anything. That he wants US and that he loves me? That all the while he's messaging you, he's telling me how I am his ONE AND ONLY and the reason he won't leave me is because he realized what he had. But then I found out he contacted you again. I wasn't healing fast enough. I wasn't just sweeping things under the rug. I find out how you undermined my place in my family with your passive aggressive defense of him. Why wouldn't you? He is SO wonderful. I get it. He plays misunderstood so well. I blamed you for the interference in my marriage when truthfully, he was spinning webs. I hear back from other people what he says and I am dumbfounded that he hates me that much.

I am not fighting you anymore for him. If you want him, come get him. Start the "rest of your life" now. Go be happy. Go have the most amazing time ever. But he will disillusion you. He will grow weary of having to keep up appearances - he will get bored. He will find someone who thrills him, who fits into his fantasy world. Who will stimulate him. Because he's an addict. And then suddenly, YOU will become the shrew. He will turn on you faster than slots in Vegas and you will be like me. Trying to find the truth in the webs he spun. He's all yours, Debra. You think he's so wonderful and I feel sorry for you. I was there. I once was that wide eyed girl who thought he was amazing while ignoring all the red flags. I left a good man who really did love me, for him, for his lies, his promises. I f'd up royally and I hurt someone, for him. I've known him and his family since I was 15. How long have you known them? Just remember me when he starts WORKING LATE, or he takes an hour in the bathroom, or a 15 minute errand takes 3 or 4 hours. When the savings you have start dwindling because he's losing fantasy football or his vanity kicks in and he wants to spend, spend, spend. When he gets angry at you for checking up on him, or asking where he's been.

Take care, Debra (Wanna be Janiec). I hope he's everything you ever dreamed of.

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castiel-barnes · 4 years ago

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Sanctuary. Part 1.

The Mandalorian and The Jedi. Chapter 2.

Pairing: Mandalorian x Jedi! Reader.

Summary: After escaping the stormtroopers and the guild on Nevarro, Din Djarin, the Jedi and the child land on a quiet planet for sanctuary.

Warning: Angst. A little fluff. Little bit of fighting.

Wordcount: 4.1k

A/N: Yay! Second chapter. Thank you everyone who liked the 1st chapter im glad you liked it. This is gonna be a long ass chapter. This is so long I'm gonna make this chapter in multiple parts.

Previous chapter: Chapter 1.

Masterlist.

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell @scribbledghost @farfromjustordinary @ginger-swag-rapunzel

You awoke a while later, the hum of the Razor Crest providing white noise for you as you slept. Sitting up, you groaned as every muscle in your body ached. Remembering what happened you placed your hand up to your bandaged eye, and hissed as it was still rather sensitive.

Getting up off the cot, you grabbed the wall to steady yourself. Walking over to the ladder leading up to the cockpit, you winced as you forced yourself up.

"Mando?" You asked cautiously hearing a coo from the child,

"How are you feeling?" He replied turning in the pilot chair towards you.

"Like I just got charged by a bantha." You said quietly sitting down in one of the co-pilot chair opposite the child. Din chuckled at the statement.

'Mando just laughed!? That was... weird and nice?' You thought to yourself.

"Do you want me to check your eye?" Din asked,

"Will you? Please." You replied. Din stood up and went down the ladder to get the first aid kit that he used on you. Coming back up the ladder, he placed the first aid kit on the consol and pulled off his gloves. You observed that his skin was bronze coloured, a few scars here and there and a small bullseye tattoo on his left hand.

As he removed the bandage from your eye, he was glad that you couldn't see his face as he grimaced. The scar looked angry and red, although it looked a lot better than it did when he found you unconscious.

"Do you wanna try opening your eye?" Din asked,

"Yeah." You replied, you fluttered your eye open a little and you winced. You furrowed your brows confused "mando why can't I see? Why can't I see out of this eye?" You continued frantically. Din grabbed your shoulders gently and kneeled down in front of you.

"Hey! Hey calm down. It's ok. Whatever caused that cut, must have damaged your eye enough to blind you in that eye." He replied calming you down a bit. Din sat back in his chair and packed away the first aid kit, whilst you stayed quiet holding the kid.

"It was my own lightsaber." You stated quietly,

"What?" Din asked turning to look at you.

"It was my own lightsaber that caused this" you replied gesturing vaguely to your left eye. "The stormtrooper who was guarding me, threatened me with it when there was like an explosion in the building and he lost balance and the saber jolted." You continued quietly, stroking Grogu's ears gently.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know they were going to do that to you." Din replied looking out the window,

"It's ok, you only done what you thought was right and to get credits to survive." You stated looking at him.

Getting up, you sat grogu in your seat and went to the refresher that was near the cot. Finding a small mirror in the corner of the refresher, you finally got a look at your eye. The scar was angry, red and a bit jagged from where the lightsaber jolted it, and your eye itself a white haze glazed over it. You let out a shaky sigh and showered getting all of the grime, blood and sweat off of your body.

A while later you were once again in the cockpit with Din, but the child was being fussy and wouldn't go to sleep.

"Grogu you have to sleep buddy, you'll be grumpy later and you know it." You stated gently rocking him. Din looked at you slightly, and saw how peaceful you looked with Grogu in your arms. Slowly but surely, Grogus eyes and ears started to droop lower and lower until soft even breathes filled the cockpit.

You laid Grogu down in one of the cots, until you could fix his floating pram again. Sitting back down in the co-pilot seat, the two of sat in silence for a while.

"What was your jedi training like?" Din asked you,

"It was ok, it was a lot of meditation, lightsaber duelling or with training droids mostly. A lot of meditation, although I was just starting my training to be selected as a padawan for one of the masters before order 66 happened." You replied looking out the window again.

"Do you still meditate?" Din asked looking at you properly,

"Yes, it helps clear my mind. Helps calm me sometimes and get answers to problems. What was your training like?" You stated looking back at Din.

"Different to yours thats for sure. I swore the creed when I was a youngling after the mandalorians saved me. Most of the training was sparring, how to fire blasters, stuff like that." Din replied,

"So no one has seen your face in years?" You asked. Din shook his head and replied with a quietly,

"No. Get some sleep okay? It's gonna be a while before we're on another planet." Din stated.

"I will. I'm alright for the moment. You need sleep too mando, can't have you on no sleep." You replied, "if we pick a planet or a system, I can keep an eye on everything in hyperspace while you sleep." You continued. Din was quiet for a moment. Hesitant.

"Ok. I was looking at a planet when you was asleep earlier. Sorgan. Low population, not much civilisation there. I think it'll be alright for us there for a while." Din replied,

"Alright, do what you need to do. I'll come get you if there are any problems." You stated reassuring him. Din nodded and punched in the coordinates, then got all of you into hyperspace. He walked off and climbed into one of the cots to finally get some sleep.

*******************************************

The Razor Crest was about 5 minutes away from dropping out of hyperspace into the skies above Sorgan. Lightly knocking on the door to the cot where Mando was sleeping, you heard a slight hum to acknowledge that you were there.

“Mando, we’re about to drop out of hyperspace. We’ll be at Sorgan soon.” You stated,

“M’kay I’ll be out in a minute.” He replied with a rough sounding voice. As if he heard your wakeup call for Din, Grogu started to wake up slowly. You walked over to him and smiled as you picked him up.

“Hey buddy did you sleep okay?” You asked him, he smiled and cooed at you grabbing onto your robes and snuggling into you. You were glad that you were stopping off at a planet, because you needed to get sewing supplies to be able to mend your robes. You winced a little as Grogu shuffled against you and jabbed you in the ribs which were still painful. But instead of telling him off, you smiled and told him you were alright as his ears drooped and cooed at you worryingly

“I’m alright buddy, I promise. You know I’d always look after you, and I know you worry for me too.” You stated running a finger over his ear. It was a good thing that you were force sensitive and could understand Grogu. Because to a natural being like Din for example, he wouldn’t be able to interpret what the kid was saying. But you and Grogu could communicate easily through ones mind, sometimes the two of you will have some good conversations that are funny and sometimes they can be sad and talk about when the two of you were at the temple before the empire and order 66.

The first time the two of you had met Din, what Grogu said to you was funny even though the circumstances were unfortunate.

‘Where is tin can man taking us Y/N?’ Grogu asked, you had to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

‘I don’t know buddy, I like the nickname though. But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’ You had replied to him smiling a little. As you were reminiscing Din startled you a little as he entered the cockpit. You sat down still holding Grogu, and looked at the back of Din’s head for a second. Grogu had been curious and gently laid his little 3 fingered hand just below your still sensitive scar. Pullng away slightly, Grogu cooed sadly as he looked up at you.

“It’s alright Grogu, it’s just a bit sore ok?” You said to him, he cooed again gently placing his hand lower on your cheek ,

“Mando put bacta on it for me, but it won’t help the blindness in that eye. I don’t think you’ll be able to do anything buddy.” You replied again to him. Din looked at the two of you, and under his helmet he had a look of confusion on his face.

“You can understand him?” Din asked, you looked up at him and smiled.

“Yep, sometimes when there are force users they can sometimes communicate with each others through their minds.” You replied,

“Hmm that’s kinda interesting actually.” he said with a tilt of his helmet and he went back to looking out the window.

A few moments later the Razor Crest dropped out of hyperspace and Sorgan finally appeared after a few hours of travelling through hyperspace.

From the looks of it, Sorgan was mostly covered in forest with clear patches here and there, and some pools of water.

***********************

The Razor Crest landed in a clearing that could fit it. You got up off the chair and went down the ladder, looking for your robe that Din must've taken off of you as he attended to your wounds. Finding your robe folded up and your lightsaber in a neat pile by the cot, you smiled a little and placed on your robe before picking up your saber.

You sighed lightly looking at your saber and then clipped it onto your belt. You didn't hear Din come down the ladder, and he looked at you as you sighed and clipped on your saber.

"You alright?" He asked you,

"Yeah, I just didn't think that I'd get hurt by my own lightsaber." You replied looking at him. He nodded as if he understood, probably hurt by one of his own weapons in the past.

"I'm about to head into the settlement that I spotted on the way down. It's about a mile or two. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but we might be able to get you and the kid some food." Din stated opening the ramp, that showed you the forest that seemed to spand for miles. You stood there for a second, thinking about what people would think about your scar. You could just stay here. Meditate. Do some light training while you waited for Din to come back. But you decided that you'd go, you couldn't hide your scar forever. It's a part of you now.

"I'll come with. Check out the area." You replied drawing in a deep breath,

"You sure? You don't have to." He asked again.

"No, I'll come. I mean I could hide with my scar forever, but then I don't think I'd truly be myself." You stated looking at him. He nodded slightly again and led the way out of the crest towards the settlement that Din had spotted. The 3 of you walked in silence most of the way, the occasional coo coming from Grogu and the occasional hum from you.

"It's been a while since I've been to a planet like this." You stated smiling to yourself,

"When was the last time you was on a planet like this?" Din asked turning his helmet slightly to you.

"It was at the Battle of Endor, when the last Death Star blew. Grogu was on the resistance command ship, and I was in an X-Wing. If I was on the ground team, I probably would've been executed by the empire." You replied thinking back as you walked,

"For being ..... a jedi?" Din asked hesitantly.

"Yes. After order 66, there weren't many jedi left. Few such as Master Kenobi and Master yoda were the only Jedi masters left from the jedi Council. Then somehow Skywalkers kid, Luke trained with Yoda for a while and became a jedi Knight. When we won the battle of endor, we had a celebratory party along with the ewoks." You said as you looked up and saw the settlement that Din had been talking about earlier.

Walking into the cantina that was on the planet, you kept your head down letting your hair fall partly across your scar. Sitting down at a table, Din ordered two bowls of broth for you and the child.

"You not gonna eat?" You asked,

"I'll eat later." Din replied. You and the child had your broth, and Din went outside as he became distracted. You could sense that something was slightly off, picking up Grogu you walked outside with a hand on your saber.

Setting Grogu down you walked around the corner to find Din and a shock trooper? Fighting. They fell to the ground and rolled, pulling out their blasters. Their heads turned as they heard your saber ignite. The shock trooper felt the slight warmth radiating from your light blue saber.

"What's your hurry shock trooper?" You asked earning a snigger from Din. Eventually, you turned off your saber and clipped it back to your belt. You, mando and the shock trooper talked but it wasn't for long. Making your way back to the crest, you got Grogu some snacks that you had found, because it had been hours since you ate. You heard Din talking to someone and you made sure that Grogu was safe before walking outside.

"What's their deal?" You asked Din as they guys sat by their transportation,

"They want help, they've had a problem with some mercenaries or something like that stealing their livestock." Din replied.

"They offer anything if we helped?" You said looking up at the stars that had made an appearance,

"Sanctuary. Lodgings for as long as we want as long as we help them solve their problem." Din stated looking at you as you observed the stars,

"You don't have to stay with me you know? You're free to go anytime you want." He continued.

"I know. But... you're the only one I can trust mando. I- I know that Jedi and Mandalorians were enemies in the past. But that was the past. And you've helped me, the least I can do is help you if you need it." You replied looking at him where you think his eyes were.

"Ok, we'll help those people and get lodgings. Stay here with the kid, and get them to load on any kit we might need. I'm gonna make a pit stop." Din stated strapping his pulse rifle to his back. He left you with the child and for you to supervise over your two new aquintances who were loading some of your stuff onto their transport.

A while later, Din came back with the Shock trooper. You knew her name, she introduced herself as Cara Dune when you first met her. But you liked calling her trooper. You didn't say anything to her, although a shock trooper, recently you had a hard time trusting others except mando.

Making sure you had everything you needed, all 4 of you plus the 2 who had asked you and mando for help climbed on the transport that was to take you to a small village.

"Get some rest, they said it'll be some time before we get there." Din stated leaning back against the side. Grogu copied him making you laugh a little, and then you and the shock trooper done the same. Feeling Grogu snuggle into you as the night grew a little colder, you wrapped your robe round him to keep him warm.

You hadn't realised that you had fallen asleep, until the transport came to an ubrupt stop jolting you awake. You sat up still aching from being hit by stormtroopers, and the uncomfortable position you had fallen asleep in. Din had woken up about the time the sun had came up.

"Morning." Din stated his voice gruff,

"G'morning" you replied stretching a little. Grogu was still asleep clinging onto the bottom half of your robe still. You decided to take your robe off and wrap him completely in it, so he could stay warm and sleep some more. Wincing a bit as you climb off of the transport, you grab onto the side of it to steady yourself.

It had just been over 24 hours since Din had saved you, so you were still quite weak and still recovering.

"You gonna be ok?" Din asked seeing you steady yourself for a moment,

"Yeah I will be. Just everything aches right now, I'm sorry I'm of no proper help right now." You replied standing up as tall as you could.

"It's alright, hopefully this isn't as bad as we think. We'll find you something easy to do, you just need to rest up a bit more. And hopefully we get some good lodgings for a while." Din stated grabbing one of the crates. You nodded and picked up some light stuff that wouldn't cause too much pain for you.

Picking up the child, you walked around the village scoping out the place. Coming back to where Din and the trooper were unloading the transport, one of the villagers came up to you.

"Hi my name is Omera, thank you for coming to help us." She stated smiling softly at you and Grogu,

"Y/N and Grogu." You replied showing Grogu who was awake now, "it was mando who agreed, but I would've aswell. Thank you for the sanctuary." You continued spying a little girl who was hiding behind Omera's legs. Omera noticed that you saw her daughter, and smiled coaxing her out from behind her.

"It's ok Winta, these people are gonna help us with the bad guys." Omera stated kneeling down, "go on sweetie you can ask" she continued,

"Can I play with him please?" Winta asked in a small voice.

"Of course you can, just don't go too far with him ok?" You replied smiling kneeling down to place Grogu on the floor. Winta smiled and instantly started playing with Grogu. You smiled, as you tried to stand up you moved a bit too fast and winced your leg almost buckling from the pain. Omera moved forward to catch you before you fell completely.

"Are you alright?" Omera asked worry etching her face,

"Yeah I'm just... I'm still recovering from what happened. I just need some rest that's all." You stated quietly. Omera helped you up and made sure that you were ok.

"I'm sure we have a few huts spare for you and the others. We can get a bed for you, so you can rest for a while." Omera stated,

"Thank you, I'll talk to mando about what's gonna happen. And if it's alright with you and him I might get some rest." You replied looking at Grogu and Winta playing,

"Of course it'll be alright. Anything you need just ask." Omera smiled tracking your eyeline to the children. You walked off towards mando, casting a quick glance back again towards the kids playing. Walking over to mando, you looked to see that most of the crates were now unloaded.

"Omera said that she can put us in some free huts that are here. And if we need anything just ask." You stated getting Din's attention,

"Alright, get some rest ok? You look like you need it. I'll come get you later when we know what we're dealing with, and for food." Din replied looking at your tired aching state.

"Ok thank you. Do you think you can keep an eye on the kid please? Make sure he doesn't eat anything... weird." You looked at the kids playing again, and Grogu seemed to be more happy than he had been in a while.

"Of course. Get some sleep cyar’ika." Din stated blushing at what he just said, thankful that you didn't understand. Although it did guage a reaction from you which was confused. You walked back to Omera and asked her if she had a spare hut ready. You followed her to a hut that was free.

"Thank you Omera." You stated with half a smile,

"It's no problem Y/N." Omera replied. You sat down on the bed and instantly fell asleep. You hadn't realised how tired you actually were, the bed you laid on felt like a marshmallow and it didn't take long to sleep.

******************************

Din had gone into the woods with Cara to find out what exactly was going on. It was worse than any of you or the villagers thought it was. Making their way back to the village, they got the villagers with the exception of the children gathered.

"Excuse me omera?" Din said getting Omera's attention,

"Yes mando." She replied turning to him.

"Uh... could you tell me what hut Y/N is in please?" He asked,

"Of course, they're right over here." Omera smiled leading Din to the hut that you was in. He thanked her as she walked away going back to the group. Knocking on the side, he tried to get your attention.

"Y/N? You gotta wake up for a bit." Din stated, but no response from you. You must've been asleep. It was almost 2 and a half hours ago that he last saw you. Walking in quietly he saw you wrapped up in a blanket.

"Hey Y/N you gotta wake up." Din stated shaking you a little. You woke up with a start instantly relaxing at seeing Din.

"Hey its just me." Din continued,

"Hi, how long was I asleep?" You asked groggily adjusting to the light.

"2 maybe 3 hours. Cara and I went to look what we're up against, and basically there are a group of like mercenaries or scavengers. They also have an AT-ST." Din stated looking around the hut,

"A chicken walker?" You asked eyes going comically wide as much as you could.

"Yeah, it's not gonna be easy." Din replied. You sighed and nodded slowly getting up off of the bed. Leaving the robe in the hut, you only took your lightsaber with you. You saw Cara already had the villagers gathered together. Standing behind Din, you listened to what they had to say and sighed. As the briefing was over and the shock trooper talking to the villagers, you walked up to Din.

"M'going to meditate, I'll only be on the edge of the village." You stated quietly,

"Ok, be careful." He replied looking at you. You smiled a little and nodded, walking towards the edge of the village. You found a little rock that you decided would help and get you back into the swing of using the force. Standing there feet shoulder width apart and your hands behind your back, you closed your eyes concentrating.

As you stood there concentrating, you felt a presence standing behind you. The presence of a child. Opening your eyes, you turned around to find a young boy.

"Hello there." You smiled kneeling down gently to his height,

"Hi." He replied shyly.

"You ok?" You asked him, he smiled and nodded.

"Are you a Jedi?" He asked looking curiously,

"What's your name kid?" You replied.

"Temmin." He replied still somewhat shy,

"Well Temmin, my name is Y/N. Can I trust you?" You asked and he nodded. You patted the front patch of grass in front of you and sat down as did Temmin. You smiled and grabbed the small rock you had picked up earlier. Temmin sat down in front of you and looked up at you.

"How did you know I was a jedi Temmin?" You asked him, placing the rock in your hand.

"I saw your laser sword when you got here." He replied looking at the rock curiously, you smiled as the rock started to float in front of you and saw Temmins jaw drop.

"It is a lightsaber, it is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Open your hand Temmin." You replied. He did what he was told and opened his hand, as he did you placed the rock down in his hand. He smiled up at you, and you could tell that he liked you and in truth you thought he was good curious kid.

"What was you doing earlier?" He asked looking at the rock,

"I was meditating, it helps me to think and calm my thoughts." You stated.

"Can I meditate?" Such a curious kid you thought,

"Of course kid. Just close your eyes, sit up straight and just breath in and out. Just listen to the things that surround us, and clear your mind." You explained, recalling what your masters had taught you.

The two of sat there a while meditating, and talking about normal things other than being a jedi. While Din and the shock trooper were training the villagers, you made sure all the kids were ok especially Grogu, Winta and Temmin they all took an immediate shine to you.

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #star wars #writing #the mandalorian x jedi

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lancearcherinrippedjeans · 4 years ago

Text

Cowboy Dad Sh*t

For previous parts click HERE

Pairings - Adam Page x OFC, Marq Quen x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Matt Jackson x OFC, SLIGHT Alex Reynolds x OC

Categories - Fluff, angst, comedy, and for the first time SMUT

Warnings/Promises - Cheating, cussing, pregnancy. *FOR SMUT* Oral (male receiving)

Word Count - 3,614

Summary/Desc - What started off as the ICB joking around; led to a big deal, Parker flirts with Alex Reynolds on BTE Adriana gets signed to AEW, Parker and Gabby fight, Bri continues with her selfish ways, a lot goes on in one week.

Thank you to my co-writers @westanaew and (I THINK THIS IS HER @ ) @adriii-omega (Especially Adri, our new writer and OFC, for writing the smut for this chapter)

Tagging @kploveswrestling and @neversatisfiedgirlfics

“Where are they with the damn tests?” Bri groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Adriana, their best friend who was new to the AEW roster, shrugged, “Maybe Gabby is arguing with the cashier.”

Right after that sentence, Gabby and Parker walked through the door, bickering.

“This is your THIRD pint of ice cream this past 24 hours, Parker! Get over the breakup and go get some dick or somethin’.” “Oh I’m sorry did you break up with Adam when you’re absolutely in love with him? No,” She yelled, snatching Ben and Jerry’s ‘Love Is..’ from one of the bags, “So let me deal with it how I want!”

“It’s been like 3 weeks and all you’ve done is eat pints of ice cream.” “You didn’t wanna stop at Baskin Robbins!” They had started full blown yelling when Bri pushed them apart, “Can we just do this? Take some pregnancy tests as some jokes now?” Parker had rolled her eyes, taking the tests out of the bag, two for each of them.

“So who wanna volunteer?” Adrianna asked. “Nose goes!” Everyone had done it in time except the one person who asked, Adri. She sighed and took the tests to the bathroom, Gabby, Bri and Parker sitting in the room, waiting. “What if one of the tests comes back positive?” Bri asked. “Then it’ll probably be me or yours.” Gabby laughed. “Yeah yeah, make fun of me all you want but at least I would know who the dad is.” Parker mumbled, glaring at Bri.

“What?” Gabby asked. “Oh nothing, Parker just being a psychopath.” Bri said through her teeth, mad that Parker almost told Gabby that she had been cheating. A moment later Adri came out of the bathroom, tests in hand. “Now we wait.” One by one they had all taken their tests, Bri, Parker and Gabby being the last one. They had all waited till all of them said pregnant or not.

“We all know it’s not gonna be Parker.” Bri laughed, Parker looked up, ice cream in her mouth, “Shut. Your. Face.”

It was time for them to all see, this wasn’t for anything serious, they had just wanted to have some fun.

“1.”

“2.”

“3.” They all said in unison. Adriana, Brianna and Parker laughed, knowing that it would for sure say negative. They had all looked over at Gabby who had a confused expression. “Gab-E?” Parker asked, concerned, “What happened.”

“Are you sure we got the most promising ones?” A tear ran down her face.

Immediately Parker snatched the test out of Gabby's hand. “Holy shit!” Adriana yelled out. “What the hell?!” Bri let out. “You fucking dumbass!” Parker screamed. The test was positive, Gabby was pregnant. Gabby couldn’t do anything but cry, her and Adam had sex without condoms or birth control, but she didn’t expect a baby out of it. “It’s gonna be ok.” Adriana said in a soft voice before hugging Gabby. “What do I tell Adam? That I’m just pregnant?” She built up words to say. “No shit, what else do you say?” Parker took in a spoon full of her ice cream.

“I think everything will be ok Gab.” “Just stay calm.” Bri and Adriana tried to comfort Gabby while Parker was in the corner still sad about her break up. “Ok I have to tell him, so quiet down.” Gabby really didn’t want to, but she didn’t wanna hide it either. She pulled out the phone and dialed the number of her boyfriend.

“Adam?” “Hi babe!” Gabby heard Adam on the other side of the phone, which made her heart smile. “Where are you?” “Right now I’m with Matt and Brandon what’s wrong?” “I have to tell you something.” Tears began to flow down Gabby’s face. “I’m….pregnant.” “No fucking way!” Adams face brightened. “Yes fucking way.” “Babe I can’t wait!” To Gabby’s surprise the cowboy was excited. “I love you so damn much boy. I’ll see you in a few.” “I love you too, see ya.” Gabby hung up the phone, smiling.

“So what did he say?” Adriana questioned. “He was happy...I think” she replied.

The four had left the room a little while later to get to Daily’s Place and for the first time, Parker and Gabby didn’t speak to each other.

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

Superkick PAAARRRR-

“Shut up John!” “You shut up Stu!” “You can’t even get anyone else in the Dark Order!” Parker walked close by, stifling laughter from what she was hearing in the room ahead. It went quiet for a second before you heard a slap and the familiar yelp of John Silver. She jumped and cringed, knowing that Brodie had hit him with papers, again. She was about to walk away when Alex Reynolds exited from the room to get away from the drama inside.

“Parker! What’s up?” “Just walking by, can I leave now?”

“Why leave so soon? Why not just stay, at least for a minute?” “I already told you I’m not joining the Dark Order, pretty boy.” Parker snapped back, clearly not dealing with it this week. Alex put his arm up to lean on the wall, trying to be smooth, “Who said anything about the Dark Order?” “God, what do you want?” “To talk to you, obviously.”

Parker arched a brow, “Why?” Alex chuckled, “Don’t act dumb.” “Excuse me?!” “C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant, is that you and me? We got good chemistry.” Parker gave a confused face, “What the fuck do you mean ‘chemisrty’, pretty boy?”

“I mean think about it, why do you think I’m always trying to get you in the Dark Order?” “Cause you’re desperate?” “Oh come on! You can’t go five minutes without calling me ‘pretty boy’.”

Parker’s jaw dropped at that sentence, “That’s not what...I mean- you can’t….I give up.”

“So you’re saying that you do think I’m attractive?” Parker smiled, “Well they didn’t call you the handsome devil for nothing.”

Alex moved closer to her, “Well I’ll admit, you’re very attractive yourself." Parker giggled, “I didn’t know you thought that.” “Oh trust me, I think about way more than how attractive you are.” He winked. Parker looked at the floor before taking out her phone and handing it to Reynolds, he typed in his number and handed her the phone back. She kissed his cheek before walking away, “I’ll call you.”

He smirked as she left, then jumped when Brodie yelled his name from inside the room. He frantically ran inside, scene ending on the closed door.

The Elite talked about Chili’s and such when they all looked towards the doorway. “Another fucking girl Adam?” Kenny shouted, as the trio of Adam, Gabby, and Adriana, who was Gabby's friend, walked into the EVP’s room. “Not right now Kenny, please.” Gabby ran her hand down her face, getting anxiety over what The Elite would say about her being pregnant. “We have an announcement.” Adam said, wrapping his arm around Gabby's waist knowing it would calm her. “Don’t tell me you guys are getting married this soon.” Nick sighed. Adam came around behind Gabby, cupping his hands around her non-existent baby bump.

“We’re….pregnant!” “You motherfucker.” Kenny surprisingly has a smile on his face. “So were just having sex without protection now Adam?” “Yeah what the hell?” The Bucks joked. “It’s ok, I’m going to be a dad!” Adam shouted in joy. The Elite congratulated the couple, surprised yet happy that they would be much more than dog parents now.

Hey, did you like that video? Click the screen for more.

And where do you think you’re going?

Before you check out our official merchandise page found at prowrestlingtees . com/youngbucks.

And to support the entire cast you can visit prowrestlingtees . com/aew

And thanks so much for Being The Elite.

The Elite The The Elite

What Nick you’re not gonna sing it all with me this time?

After BTE, the group of Adam, Gabby, Adriana, Matt, Nick, and Kenny decided to hang out. “So you're actually pregnant right?” Kenny questioned. “Duh what you think?” “Maybe it was just for the show I don’t know.” “Well it’s not”

“Just know I’m happy for you two, I can put our differences aside for this.” Kenny reached in to give Gabby a hug. “Thank you Kenny, I appreciate it-“ she stopped when she felt Adam come from behind, placing a kiss on her neck. “Congrats on the baby man.” Kenny smiled at Adam, “Thank you Kenny.” Adam smiled back. “We should all take a pic, I won’t post till you guys announce the baby.” Nick came over. The four posed for the photo as Adam cupped gabby’s stomach and Kenny pointed his finger to the air, there were 2 of the 6 not in the photo tho.

Adriana stood in the corner of the EVP room smiling at her friends . Of course she was happy for Gabby and Page; though she barely met him or talked to him for a matter of fact she could tell he really loved Gabby. She was interrupted by her thoughts when someone tapped on her shoulder, “Hey! You must be Adriana, I’m Matt Jackson!” Adriana turnt so fast she got a little dizzy, she stumbled upon her feet and Matt held his hands out to catch her. “Woah- I’m so sorry, you scared me.” Matt chuckled as he noticed how pretty she was; he’s only seen clips of her online but up close she wasn’t half bad looking.

“Not everyday I can save a beautiful woman from falling on her face.” Adriana shot a confused look as he nervously chuckled, “Well, today is your lucky day. Thanks for scaring me…” Her eyes trailed up and down scanning the man head to toe. She noticed the perfect bun that sat on top of his head, the way he was still in gear from his match, and the way his eyes glistened as they stared at her lips, “You’re...um welcome? Hey look I know I’ve only known you for a couple minutes but-”

“Matt and Adriana stop being shy and come get in the picture! We’re not only celebrating a baby but our new signee for AEW! Man what a good day for us!” Nick exclaimed.

Adriana and Matt brought their eyes away from each other as they looked at the group. Gabby ran over and swooped Adriana away from Matt making him frown a little as Nick did the same. As they redid the picture Matt made sure to stand extra close to Adriana sliding his hand in her back pocket making her smirk. They smiled but Matt and Adriana smiled for different reasons . When they were done Adriana dragged Matt out the EVP room. “What the hell was that-“ Adriana started but was cut off with Hangman popping his head out asking if everything was okay.

Adriana started to reply but Matt cut her off, “We’re fine, but Adriana is starting to feel a little tired so I’m gonna take her to the hotel. Tell Gabby for us.” Hangman shot Matt an eye glance but shrugged it off as he made his way back in.

“I’m not tired Matt-” “You will be.”

Hotel Skip

Adam laid his head on Gabby’s lap as they watched t.v, Gabby running her fingers through his curly hair. “Y’know I’m really excited to be parents.” Adam said, turning down the volume. “I am too, especially with you around.” Adam sat up, grabbing Gabby’s hand, “And I’ll be by your side every step of the way.” Gabby smiled, “I love you.” “I love you too.” They closed the distance between themselves with a kiss.

It had only been a second before there was a knock on the door, Adam groaned and got up to answer it, “Oh, hey Parker.”

Parker waved awkwardly, looking back and forth at Adam and the floor, “Could I speak to Gabby?” He looked back in the room before looking at Parker, “One sec.” He closed the door, walking back into the room, “Who was it?” “Parker. She wants to talk to you.”

Gabby shook her head over and over, she didn’t want to hear Parker judging her anymore. The pair had rarely ever argued. Not seriously that is. They had helped each other with their happiness for years, but Gabby couldn’t even talk to her right now. “Gabby.” “I’m not talking to her, Adam.”

He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, “Talk to her Gabby. You guys are best friends, and I may not know Parker as well but I’m not letting you two drift apart, especially with you being pregnant.” Gabby rolled her eyes, “Fine, let her in.”

She stood up as Adam answered the door, Parker walked in, and looked like a wreck. It was clear she had been crying. “Hi Gab.” “Parker.”

They stood there awkwardly when Parker took a deep breath and spoke up, “Look...I’m so, so so sorry for how I acted earlier. This is one of the biggest moments in your life and I didn’t bother to be happy for you or even hug you cause I’m thinking about myself.” Parker started to cry again, “And I love you so much, I don’t want our friendship because I’m being selfish.”

Gabby started crying seeing Parker cry, “Parker it’s okay. I could’ve been helping you instead of patronizing you for eating ice cream.” They both laughed. “I love you too, and I can’t lose my best friend now.” Parker pulled Gabby in for a hug, both of them crying. They pulled away when Gabby yelled out, “We always look so ugly when we cry together.” They laughed once again.

Parker turned towards the man in the room, “Thank you Adam, you probably had to convince her.”

Adam tipped his imaginary hat, “Now I wonder if I can convince you to apologize to Chuck.” Parker shook her head, angry smile on her face, before she took a pillow from their bed and hit him with it, “You motherfucker.” She had hit him over and over before Gabby started hitting Parker, “Aye chill I ain’t gonna hit a pregnant lady!” “Wow Parkwe!” The two hit each other again and again.

While Adam smiled, knowing they would have some extra help around now that Gabby and Parker were best friends again.

Across the hall was a whole different story, when Cash knocked on Bri’s door.

“Marq will be here in an hour.” Bri said, pulling Cash into the room. “I can work with that.” He said before putting his mouth on Bri’s, walking them towards the bed. One by one, articles of clothing were stripped off until they were left in their underwear.

He detached their lips and started kissing at her neck, one of her weaknesses. “Cash..” She moaned, hands running through his hair. They were so into the moment they didn’t even hear the door open, but they did hear the voice of Marq, “Bri?”

The frantically looked at him in the doorway, a sad look on his face. “Marq!” She called as he started to walk away, she quickly pulled on her jeans and shirt that she and Cash had thrown on the floor, and chased after him into the parking lot. “Marq! Where are you going?” He had barely turned around, “For a drive.” “Please can we talk about this?!”

He turned around quickly, causing her to almost crash into him. She looked at his expression, not sad, not mad, but hurt. He had tears in his eyes, and his brows were furrowed, “Talk about what? That you’ve been cheating on me for God knows how long?!” Bri shook her head, “I didn’t mean to hurt you I just-” “You just couldn’t handle the fact that I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend right away? I left the show early for you! I’ve been focusing more on you than my career! How is that not enough?”

She shook her head, “I don’t know, I guess I just...didn’t want to be patient. Sorry that you couldn’t give me what Cash was.” “What? Sex? Cause if so you can go back in there right now.”

“Marq that’s not what I meant.” “No it’s exactly what you meant,” He shook his head, “Who would’ve thought that out of you, Gabby and Parker...I got paired to work on Being The Elite with the one who would hurt me.” “Marq please..” She tried to grab his hand but he moved it away.

“You choose. Me or Cash. I love you, Bri. And if you don’t feel the same, don’t bother choosing me.” He took a box and a card out his bag before he got in his rental and drove off. She opened the card and read the note.

‘Bri, we’ve been hanging out, and doing a lot more for a few months. I can’t believe I’m saying this already, but I think I’m in love with you. You have sass and are so beautiful I can’t even think straight. So I have to ask, will you be my girlfriend?’ She opened the box and saw a beautiful bracelet. And she realized she really fucked up.

That’s all she could think about on the walk to her room, she walked in and saw Cash was gone, and he too left a note.

‘Hey Bri...what just happened was intense. Now though I enjoy what we do, I think I should just leave you alone, at least till I know I don’t have a target on my back. - Cash.’

Bri sunk to the ground, crying. Knowing that she now had to make the decision. Pleasure or love. And to her, that’s one of the hardest decisions of all.

SMUT WARNINGGGG

Far far away from the hotel, was a car with Adri and Matt, both making conversation.

“This isn’t the way to the hotel...” Adriana said as Matt just smirked at her. “I know it’s not, but you and I can’t deny we’ve been staring at each other all night long.” Matt shot back. There was no denying it. Ever since Adriana met Matt and his friends he could already tell she would be fun to have around.

“Matt, I barely know you-” Adriana started to speak but she instantly shut her mouth as Matt placed his hand on her thigh. “We don’t need to be the best of friends to have sex. I thought in the back of this car would be perfect, so we can both just get it out of our systems.” His hand began to slowly crawl up making its way to her core. Adriana could feel her stomach begin to twist, and she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t want this. She looked over at his face to see if he was being serious about this or not but her eyes were glued on his gigantic bulge as it began to turn her on.

Most of the time Adriana was the responsible one, never in a million years would her friends ever think of her as having one night stands. Tonight was different. Their lips began to feel each other and Matt asked for entrance by licking her bottom lip. Matt groaned as he began to get frustrated while Adriana chuckled which caused him to shoot his tongue right down her throat. Adriana couldn’t take the clothes anymore as she began to undo her seatbelt and remove her shirt, Matt got the idea and started to undo the belt on his jeans. Matt made his way to the back and Adriana followed as their lips connected once again.

As she straddled his legs she began to feel him through her shorts. She disconnected their lips and tried to get comfortable on the floor of the backseat beginning to throw her hair up in a ponytail. As she struggled with getting all her hair up, Matt began to ramble, “You know, I’ve never actually done this in the backseat of a car before. But I don't know, you might be a pro. Oh God if Nick finds out I had car sex with someone i just met he’s gonna-” His sentence ended with a groan as Adriana’s mouth met his staff. She moved up and down smirking as his groans filled the car, thank god they were in an empty parking lot. His fingers clasped on the back seat as he used his other hand to push her down making it touch the back of her throat. “Oh- oh my god Adri, I’m about to cum.” Matt groaned. He released into her mouth making her hum in delight as she swallowed it and licked her lips clean. He made sure he was still in the back of the car, and not in heaven as he felt his surroundings. Adriana chuckled as she began to put her shirt back on. “Well, that was…something else.” Matt joked.

Adriana rolled her eyes, “it’s getting late we should head back to the hotel before they think something bad happened to us.” Matt got into the driver's seat and started the car, “Sweetheart, there was nothing bad with what just happened. Sucks this is a one time thing.“ he moved his hand to her thigh lightly massaging it. “Yea…one time…right, it depends if you can actually keep it in your pants, I’ll definitely be back soon though.” Matt grinned as they pulled up to the hotel. “I’ll see you later, we can not tell anyone about this. At least for now.” Adriana chuckled as she got out of the car. “Your secret is safe with me, Massie.”

WOW ICBTE ON A SUNDAYYY

#adam page x ofc #Adam Page #Hangman Adam Page #adam page x reader #marq quen x ofc #marq quen #matt jackson #matt jackson x ofc #matt jackson x reader #alex reynolds #chuck taylor x oc #fluff #Smut #angst #icbeing the elite #aew fanfic #aew dynamite #aew fanfiction #all elite wrestling

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raetos · 4 years ago

Text

Homecoming

(( Co-written with Vandrir’s player <3 Tagging @darkestfable and @brent-sunborn / @thefugitivemango for character mention.))

~*~*~

Raetos stretched out once he set hoof down on the stone platform. The gryphon ride from Darkshire to Stormwind had gone smoothly and uneventfully, but these weeks of work had left him tired and sore; nothing a good bath and some time spent with his mate wouldn’t fix. That, and some much needed sleep as well. He hadn’t told Fable about the early leave he’d gotten. Things in Duskwood had settled down in the past week, enough so that he was able to take a bit of time off. Of course, the Lightforged had decided that the best way to announce the good news to his lover was by surprising him!

He wondered how Fable would react to the surprise. The Blood Hunter was probably hard at work, updating some old map at this time of the day. Surely, he wouldn’t mind being led away for an evening. Raetos tail swayed happily behind him as he made his way down the stone streets and into the forest, his heart pounding as he went up the trail and their nice little cabin came into view. Everything appeared how he’d left it, at least from the outside. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like much much longer. Light, it felt so good to be home!

As he approached the door, he’d already started unstrapping his armor. It wouldn’t be staying on much longer, that much was for certain!

“Babe, I’m home!” he called as he walked in.

Vandrir’s ear perked up at the sudden voice, then eyes darting back down as the green feathered fluff darted out of his arms toward the sound of hooves. He pushed his hair back behind one relatively short ear as he got to his feet with a slight frown.

“I will venture a guess that you are Raetos then…” His voice was calm but not unfriendly. He stood in the doorway glancing down at the excited ground parrot as the little creature told his other daddy aaaalll about it while making circles around the Draenei.

“--Uhhh…. Yeah?”

Raetos’ head tilted to the side in confusion as a complete stranger greeted him… but not as enthusiastically as Obligation. The flightless bird looked well and happy, not at all frazzled by this new person, which brought the Draenei to conclude that this must be a friend of his partner’s.

He shook off the confusion and knelt down, allowing his small pal to climb up his arm and onto his shoulder as he looked around for any sign of his lover. Finding none, he eyed the other man. Reatos was terrible at telling the different elves apart, but he was guessing this one was a Night Elf from the size of him..

“Sorry uh… we haven’t met yet, right? Who are you?”

“Ah, no, we have not. I am Vandrir, and your um... companion asked me to look after the two little ones while he was away.” Concern flashed briefly across his face before he resumed his calm facade.

Reaching a hand down to touch the sleepy head of the tiny doe who had joined them at the sound of voices he continued, “He said that there was a small job, a dig, in Feralas and that he would be gone only a few days...three weeks ago.”

The Draenei visibly relaxed as the stranger finally identified himself. He didn’t want to assume, but finding another man in his house had been… more than a little alarming.

--but not as alarming as the news that came next.

“Wait what…? Three weeks?!”

It wasn’t unusual for Fable to go off on a dig, or to lose track of time. Raetos was actually happy that he’d found something to occupy his time with… but to be away for that long without a word to anyone. Raetos tried not to worry, but three weeks to complete a dig that should only take a few days was… rather extensive.

“Bah… I’m sure he’s fine,” he said, though it was hard to tell who he was trying to convince, Vendrir or himself. Worry was evident in his tone, “I mean… he’s always getting distracted by his work, so like… Maybe he found something else at the dig site that led him elsewhere?

He didn’t really wait for an answer, already making his way over to the Blood Hunter’s work area and looking over maps and journals he’d been studying before leaving.

“Still uh… probably best I go check up on him. Feralas, you said?”

Vandrir gave an unseen nod as he drifted after the other, the sound of tiny doe hooves and birdy feet the only steps that made a walking sound.

“Yes, Feralas. He did not mention exactly where or what sort of items he was searching for.” The night elf gave a heavy sigh, “I suppose you would like me to continue to watch the two little ones then?”

He gave the doe a little push to send her off to play as he hurried on, “Not that I mind of course. It is just that I hadn’t expected to be in someone’s home for this long. Maybe your boyfriend just got lost or something?”

“Fable doesn’t get lost,” Raetos mumbled as he continued to scan through the notes, his finger traced the area mentioned in the notes. Tearing a blank page out, he began to scribble down coordinates and markers to look out for.

He glanced up at the Kal’dorei, however, an apologetic look on his features.

“--Ah… yeah. I need someone to watch these two while I go find him. You have a place of your own you wanna take them, where you’d be more comfortable? Maybe your place? You have a place, right? I mean, you can stay here, it doesn’t bother me. Whatever’s easier for you, I mean…--Oh shit! What happened to you? Did Obligation set something on fire?!”

That last part was added as he finally took notice of the terrible burn scars on Vandrir. In his panic over Fable, he hadn’t noticed the wounds that took up at least half of the Night Elf’s face… and probably more.

Vandrir took several seconds to just blink slowly at Raetos as the draenei seemed to be getting his ramble into full gear. A frown twisted as the verbal brakes were slammed and he reached up to push his hair back again, the eye on the side with the burns clearly dimmer than the other. His voice was almost harsh as he blurted out his reply, the words somewhat clipped, “No, he...he’s been a pretty good bird, a little unhappy that I won’t let him jump off the roof. I’ll just stay here if you don’t mind, Responsibility and Obligation will do better in a familiar setting I think, not to mention I can keep an eye out for the two foxes.”

The frown didn’t leave his face but his tone did soften, although it was clearly with effort, “This happened when the tree burned. Some things just don’t heal well I suppose.”

“Oh shit, you’re -that- kind of elf!” Raetos winced as he realized his verbal misstep, “Man, I can never remember which elves live where. Sorry about your tree. It looked really nice… from far away, anyway. I never really got to visit and see it for myself before… you know… Whoosh!”

He used his hands to motion the ignition of a fire, as though the visual was needed. There was a rather awkward silence for a moment, before he cleared his throat.

“Yes...I’m that kind of elf. Uh glad you liked how it looked from afar?” He gave one sharp shake of his head, like an animal tossing off a fly buzzing near their face, even letting out a soft huff at the same time.

“Yeah… uh. You can totally stay here. Our home is your home… until we come back. But hey, if there’s anything you need after all this, you let us know, okay? We owe you for taking care of the animals.”

As he said that, Obligation attempted to fly off the desk, promptly falling to the ground.

“Especially him.” “Do what you need to do. I only met Fable once briefly, but he...made an impression, a good one. I look forward to your return. We’ll laugh about how he got stuck in a cave or something.” He gave a ghost of a smile, “Don’t worry about paying me back or anything, I’m happy to help out people that I would like to think could be friends.”

“Dude, trust me, you’re already a good friend doing this for us,” the Draenei went about packing up a larger backpack. He hoped to be able to fly in close to the dig site with a gryphon, but he didn’t know for certain. He’d only been there once before, and Fable had been the one leading. Raetos had mostly just been admiring the scenery and taking in all the tidbits of information he was being fed. He made certain to bring enough for a good hike, if required. And of course, he couldn’t forget the first aid supplies, just in case.

“We’ll all have a good drink and laugh together soon enough. You’re right though… getting caught in a cave makes sense… I’m sure he’s fine… Yeah… he’s fine.”

Again, it was hard to tell who he was trying to convince. Worry was clear on his features as he kneeled down to welcome the feathery ball of energy into his arms, giving Obligation a final cuddle before handing him back to Vandrir.

“Thanks again. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Vandrir got a gentle but firm grip on the feathery terror, knowing the parrot was likely going to try something any moment, “You are welcome. I’ll take care of things here, just stay safe yourself.”

His voice was calm again, confident and somehow soothing. The kind of tone that said everything would be fine. “I’ll keep the kids out of too much trouble.”

Raetos would have naturally gone in for a hug. Light knew he needed one… but his interactions with Brent had left him weary about embracing strangers. And while he trusted Vandrir, he didn’t know the man’s boundaries yet. He swallowed hard, and with a final nod, turned and left, closing the door behind him.

There, he paused, his tail flickering behind him, the backpack feeling horribly heavy. He wanted to get to Feralas fast, but at the same time, he was afraid. It had been a long time since Raetos had felt like this, and there was a sense of dread that he couldn’t quite shake off. He had no idea what he would find at that digsite. And while he hoped for the best, something told him to prepare for the worse…

With a heavy sigh, he set the first hoof forward on his venture towards finding his mate.

~*~*~

#Character Story #Raetos #Vandrir #Fable Darvale

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rebelscoundrel · 5 years ago

Text

Take a Gamble

Request: You and Poe are a sarcastic duo that work well together, sent on an undercover mission to thwart a First Order weapons deal. Things go awry, of course.

Poe Dameron x reader

Warnings: undercover clichés (the kissing kind), lots of banter, a little tension (sexual and otherwise)

A\N - this got kinda long? I had way too much fun with this plot

Masterlist

“Poe, get down here. It can’t be that bad.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

A few reluctant thuds brought Poe to the bottom of the stairs. The first thing you noticed was the gelled hair trying to tame his curls. The poncho was quite a sight, too — black as night and adorned with golden chains and buckles, curiously matching his decorative boots. And somehow he still looked good.

But his grimace was icing on the cake.

You giggled, sliding a hand over your mouth and chin. “Okay, it’s not awful. But it’s not —"

“It’s not great, I know.”

He skirted past you, quickly crossing the hangar toward the Falcon. Passing mechanics kept their eyes averted from Poe and you nodded thanks on his behalf. A few other calls of “good luck!” echoed as the Falcon’s door slid shut.

“And you,” Poe chuckled wryly while flipping switches around the cockpit, “you get to wear that and call it a day.”

It was true, your white dress was achingly simple compared to his attire. But apparently these outfits were the best way for each of you to blend in on the mission, and you weren’t complaining that you got the simpler one for once.

“I think you secretly like that cape.”

“It’s a poncho, and I don’t.”

The Falcon leapt into hyperdrive and you crossed a leg haphazardly from the co-pilot’s seat. The stars blended into stripes, the gentle hum of lightspeed filling the easy silence in the cockpit, until finally it all slowed to give way to the destination. Canto Bight was a glittering jewel of a city – a shiny, sickening place for the rich and cruel and famous.

Poe landed a safe distance from the skyscraping casino, leaving the Falcon out of sight and ready for a quick escape if needed. You crept side by side toward the unnerving clamor of the city, only straightening up when you got closer. Adrenaline kickstarted a rush in your veins when the rendezvous site came into view and your hand wove a practiced path into the folds of your skirt, brushing the blaster strapped underneath for reassurance.

Ushers opened the massive doors, lifting the muzzle off the noise and letting the bright lights of the casino glare freely.

Poe offered you his elbow. “Shall we?”

You gladly took it, sneaking in a grin before setting your sights on the crowd. “Might as well.”

It wasn’t hard to find a path in the busy atrium – drunk gamblers and partiers were predictable, and you and Poe could effortlessly move in sync. Step left to avoid a pair of quarreling Bothans, backtrack around a raucous group of humanoid dancers, and weave through the line of low-stakes gambling circles. The first sign of First Order troops appeared at the racetrack betting tables and Poe gave you a nudge.

“You wanna remind me what we’re up against? A mechanic was rattling off X-Wing problems to me during the briefing.”

“A single buyer,” you spoke over the noise. “Local warlord known only as Jago. Wears red robes, black star tattoo on his neck. The First Order is selling him a hundred E-Webs that he’ll use to squash Resistance efforts on an Outer Rim planet.”

He whistled low under his breath. “Yeah, we’re not letting that happen. So it’s just that guy?”

“That guy and any First Order goons stationed in the city.”

“Won’t Jago bring backup?”

“In our intercepted transmission, the First Order said he had to come alone.”

“Easy enough.” He shrugged with a little cautious bravado to boost both of you. “Let’s destroy that shipment and bail.”

You bit back a grin, still striding in step with your mission partner. It was a simple plan, sure, and the two of you were experienced enough to handle it. Besides, you fit against Poe’s side like the Maker designed it that way. Upon finding a spot with a view of the whole room, Poe planted himself and snuck a glance at you before surveying the field.

The waiting game wasn’t long. The First Order troops started getting restless, muttering into their comms units and fiddling with their blasters.

“There.” Poe jutted his chin toward the bar. “That’s gotta be Jago.”

He was right, and Jago was terrifying. Towering over the creatures around him, his platinum shock of hair contrasted his scarred face and the dark tattoos lining his neck. His red robes were draped over a bulky build and the end of a rifle poked through. He was ready for a fight.

It was your turn to nudge Poe. “Let’s get over there. They’ll take him to the shipment soon.”

Like a grand ballet, the First Order troopers stalked toward Jago in single file while you and Poe approached from an angle. The music crescendoed, drinks spilled in your wake, and you were hot on Poe’s heels through it all, pacing yourself to stay out of sight of the enemy.

But it didn’t work.

You slammed into a ranking Stormtrooper, throwing you off track. Your white dress caught wine stains as you tried to push out of a group of civilians, but the trooper grabbed your arm and yanked you inches from his helmet.

“Watch it!” he seethed.

Trying to jerk away yielded no results. Your heart raced, drowning out any commotion behind you.

“Wait a minute…” He pulled out a hologram projector and up popped an image of your face. His viselike grip got tighter. “I’ve got a Resistance fighter!”

Clang! A table crashed into the trooper, sending him sprawling as cards and chips rained down like confetti. Poe popped up from behind the table, his gelled curls shaking freely. The two of you comically stared back and forth between each other and the fallen Trooper.

“Did you just –”

“Yeah,” he huffed while you took his outstretched hand, “not as heavy as it looks. We gotta go.”

Your “thanks” was breathless and the chase was on. First Order troopers and Stormtroopers were swarming and you and Poe dodged around them, ducking behind casino security droids and patron’s opulent hats. A flash of red caught your eye and you whirled toward it, Poe barely in tow.

“There’s Jago! They’ve gotta be leading him to the shipment.”

You hurried toward the archway leading out back, just a little further and you’d be free of the chaos inside. Poe gave a hopeful gasp and the way his bejeweled boots clacked on the tile floor almost drew a tease from your lips.

But you never got the chance because a Stormtrooper suddenly blocked your path.

“Shit!”

“Dammit! C’mon,” Poe groaned, switching hands to pull you the opposite way.

Troopers’ cries rang out behind you and their thunderous pursuit was the stuff of nightmares, the fever dream all tied together by the glitz and glam of the casino. You kept low as best you could and trusted Poe’s every step even as he led you closer to the performing stage.

The music was deafening but became muffled when you dipped into an alcove next to the stage. It was crowded with drunk partygoers gyrating and kissing what you could only hope was each other’s mouths. But even in that small mob you felt exposed because the troopers could be heard closing in and could walk by at any second.

“They’re going to find us,” you clipped.

But Poe was busy shuffling you toward the back of the alcove, keeping a grip on your elbows as he glanced over his shoulder.

“Poe, we’ve got to –”

His kiss silenced you.

Your back hit the wall a moment later and still the kiss continued – his lips were tense and unmoving and definitely only there to hide your faces from passersby and was that his hand caressing your lower back? You grasped his arm to steady your heart and dared not kiss back.

(Even if you wanted to.)

With your faces hidden, the Stormtroopers rushed past and continued their search elsewhere. Poe checked over his shoulder again and then his eyes were back on you, sparing an imperceptible glance to your lips.

“Sorry, I just –”

“No, good thinking.” You nodded and gave his chest a supportive pat. “They definitely didn’t want to venture in here.”

With no time to lose and no desire to further analyze what the hell just happened, you and Poe jostled through the crowd and back out into the open. Thankfully there were no troopers in sight and you snuck to the back archway and out into the night.

The brick courtyard was lined with massive palm trees that hid it from the view of any casino onlookers and it was silent except for metallic clattering behind a door on the far side.

“E-Webs.”

“Has to be,” you murmured back.

Walking through the open courtyard felt out of place and the two of you flicked wary glances all around. Your kept your hand poised on the slit in your dress, ready for whatever the sinister shadows would throw your way. And it didn’t take long.

“Hey, you there!” A First Order trooper stepped into view.

You tore out your blaster and shot him square in the chest. He crumpled and no more troopers appeared.

“Yeah, I think we’re in the right place,” Poe quipped.

He took one side of the door and you the other, gently pushing it open enough to peek inside. Jago loomed on one side of a stone table facing a First Order commander, both flanked by Stormtroopers. The itching trigger fingers could instantly send the room up in flames. But even through the tension, the conversation wasn’t hard to hear.

“The Supreme Leader wants payment now.”

“He’ll get his payment after I see the shipment myself,” Jago growled. “And don’t fool yourselves by thinking it’s hidden, I know it’s in the crates past the outer gates of this courtyard.”

That was what you needed to hear. As awful as Jago was, the mission was to destroy the shipment of E-Webs, not assassinate a warlord. Poe nodded and you followed, circling to the outside of the courtyard and easily finding the target. Crates and crates of insidious E-Webs were loaded onto a transport.

And surrounded by red-caped men carrying torches. Jago’s troops.

Poe skidded to a stop. “I thought you said Jago wasn’t supposed to bring backup.”

“Looks like he trusts the First Order about as much as we do.”

You counted six; Poe pointed out two more at the edge of the forest. Your blaster was still warm from the last shot fired and you braced your hand on the vine-covered wall, ready to fire it again. But Poe’s gentle touch to your wrist gave you reason for pause.

“I have something else that might work,” he murmured. From under his poncho he pulled out a pair of thermal detonators and a grin to match. “Turns out this blanket I’m wearing had its uses.”

Your face lit up but fell into a frown just as quickly. “Poe, we can’t detonate them or the E-Webs here. It could level half the casino.”

“So I’ll lure the guards away while you program –”

“I program the transport to fly deep into the woods!” the rest of the plan rolled off your tongue like lightning. “Then we detonate.”

“We detonate the hell out of it.”

The Resistance had come to rely on this kind of synchronization between you and Poe and it hadn’t yet let anyone down. After delicately handing you the detonators, he squeezed your shoulder for luck and you didn’t hide the nervous anticipation in your eyes – you never hid it from each other, not when it was so real. By the time you realized he was close enough to kiss you again he was gone, brandishing his blaster and dashing out into the open.

“Hey, you big scary bastards!” He fired a few shots before Jago’s troops realized what was happening.

They gave chase and you lied in wait for the stampede to pass, then took a deep breath and slinked over to the transport under the cover of darkness. Even with your skirts in one hand and cradling the detonators in the other, you managed to leap into the driver’s seat with ease. Blaster shots rang out from Poe’s direction but you forced yourself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Which was a little more difficult than normal. First Order tech was different enough that you pressed a few wrong buttons before igniting the engine. Is this your first time behind the wheel? you could hear Poe teasing if he’d been there.

A heavy thunk sounded and you whirled to see one of Jago’s troops standing on the back of the transport, pulling out his blaster. You beat him to it and shot him in the neck.

“Too close,” you whispered to yourself as he landed in the dirt.

With a few more switches flipped, you slammed the steering lever forward and jumped out of the driver’s seat. You armed the detonators with a flick of your thumbs and tossed them onto the transport as it hurtled into the woods.

Trees crashed in its wake as you fled the opposite direction. Ten seconds ticked by, just enough for you to make it to the courtyard walls – eyes squeezed shut, hands clamped over your ears – and then came the massive explosion. The vibration rattled deep in your bones.

But you couldn’t stay covered forever. As expected, Jago’s remaining troops raced back to the transport’s spot and then toward the inferno, their angry curses echoing in the flames devouring the trees. You slipped away unnoticed toward the edge of the city, where Poe had originally led them.

And you didn’t have to worry about him for long.

“Hey!” came a tense whisper from your right.

Poe emerged from a stack of barrels and split into a wide smile, ecstatic to see you alive and well. You fell into his embrace without a second thought.

“E-Webs are gone,” you declared. “Nice job with the distraction, by the way.”

He pulled back to wave you off. “That was the easy part. Jago needs to hire better mercenaries, these guys can’t shoot for shit.”

That was the end of the reunion, because Jago himself strode out from behind the courtyard walls and surveyed the entire scene. The firelight painted him even more fearsome. He yelled obscenities at his troops, the First Order commander, and the Stormtroopers before his gaze landed on you and Poe looking not particularly innocent.

“Get them!” he bellowed.

“Here we go again…”

Poe took your hand like clockwork and your tired legs carried you into the city. From cobblestone to pavement, around market stalls and under giant droids’ legs, and in between partygoers taking a midnight stroll.

You and Poe were fast but the enemy was just as quick, even if they were still a good distance behind. But the hunt couldn’t go on forever and as you rounded a sharp corner, there it was. Saving grace in the form of an alleyway. You yanked Poe in with you and prayed it was enough to shake them.

The alley was narrower than anticipated and Poe was nearly pressed into you. The chase left your heart pounding and your chest heaving and the brick wall at your back dug into your dress and all at once the ridiculousness of the situation had you clutching your mouth to hold back giggles.

Poe noticed, his dark eyes glistening at you as a smirk played on his own mouth. He playfully brought a finger to his own lips to gesture for you to keep quiet.

And now you were looking at his lips.

It felt like the gravitational pull of a galaxy, the way you gazed at the curve of his mouth. The sheer proximity was intoxicating, sending tendrils of heat curling up your skin. The memory of his kiss was as clear as the night sky and left a sparkle in your eyes when you finally looked up.

Poe noticed that, too, and he sobered as his own gaze dipped to your lips and back.

A blur of red capes and white armor trampled past your hiding spot at that moment. Not too long after Jago and the First Order commander followed, still barking frustrated orders. But all that commotion barely registered within the dark confines of the alley. The pull between you was still too strong, drowning out everything else, even the gradual quiet that grew in the street.

“I think they’re gone,” you breathed.

“Yeah…”

A blaster firing in the distance finally made Poe snap his eyes away. He leaned out of the alley to check if the coast was clear and motioned for you to follow, and it was back to business as usual – this goddamn mission.

“Let’s get the hell off this planet.”

The streets slowly became familiar as you neared the entrance to the casino and that’s when Poe noticed a speeder sitting idle, its driver preoccupied with trying to sell something to a pair of drunk civilians.

“Wanna get to the Falcon faster?” he called.

You followed his line of sight. “You bet! Can I drive?”

“What?”

“You might be a great pilot,” you raced the last few feet and jumped in the driver’s seat, revving the engine with a proud cock of your brow, “but I’m better on a speeder and you know it.”

Poe could only grin and shake his head while hopping on the back, barely getting a grip on your waist before you floored it. You flew past the casino in time to see Jago emerging from the front doors and he erupted again, shrieking and waving wildly until a Stormtrooper flew up on a speeder. He hopped on the back and they sped toward you.

Poe exasperatedly smacked the side of your speeder. “We just can’t catch a break with this guy.”

The chase was on once again and you quickly made it to the edge of the city, where Jago opened fire. Blaster shots illuminated the night around you and Poe did his best to return fire while you evasively swerved through the meadow.

“This isn’t good!” Poe yelled. “They’ll kill us if we go to the Falcon now.”

As you tried to reach for your blaster, you accidentally flicked a switch on the dashboard and a small panel opened between the handlebars. There sat a thermal detonator, primed and ready for any opponent.

“You’re not gonna believe our luck,” you cried over the wind, holding up the detonator like a prize. “Will you do the honors?”

“Gladly.”

Poe armed and tossed the detonator, hiding his face against your neck as the explosion knocked your speeder forward. Leaving the smoking remains in the dust, you finally headed toward the Falcon in peace.

“Woohoo! Not bad for a guy in a poncho,” he crowed.

You let out a holler into the night, feeling free as the wind whipped past your face. The Falcon finally came into view and you slowed down to jump off the speeder with Poe right behind. The two of you were significantly worse for wear than when you left the Falcon earlier in the evening but you trudged to the cockpit with your heads held high – tattered clothes, dirty boots, wine stains, and all.

While Poe fired up the engine, you patched through to command central. Resistance leaders wanted a status update as soon as you were done.

“Falcon to Command One,” you proudly beamed at Poe, “we completed the mission and are en route back to base.”

Lightspeed came and went and then you were landing on base between the flight deck operators signaling with their orange lights. It was the dead of night so there was no congratulatory crowd waiting, and that was okay. You’d had your fill of crowds.

Poe stood to leave as soon as the Falcon touched down, and so did you — landing you face to face for the second time that night. Time froze as you fell into each other’s orbit once again. His breath on your cheek, your glance to his lips, the steady rise and fall of your chests in sync. The tension threatened to rip you in two and you almost did something about it.

The comms crackled inside the cockpit. “Captains, let’s have that debriefing now.”

You stepped away first, catching your breath as you strode out of the Falcon a few paces ahead of Poe. The silence of the runway rung in your ears because all you could do was think about the man just a few feet behind. And all at once, after all those chases that evening, you were tired of running away.

You spun on your heel, arms swinging wide. It was now or never.

“Poe —”

“Yeah, what the hell.”

The distance closed in a flash and his lips found yours with ease. He properly cradled your cheek this time, melting you further into his touch. Your hands carded through his hair and deepened the kiss like the Maker intended. The heat in your chest blossomed when Poe smiled against your mouth.

You broke it first, panting and idly playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. It no longer hurt to be this close, not when all the doubt had dissipated.

“The debrief...” you reluctantly muttered.

“I think we can handle that now.” After sharing another satisfied grin, he let you walk ahead and only spoke loud enough for you to hear. “Though it probably won’t be as brief as I’d like.”

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #moral of the story: if ya man doesn't flip a table for you he ain't worth it

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago

Text

ACITW AU Inspired fic - “The Vacation Ultimatum” (Rated PG13)

Summary:

Sebastian wants to go somewhere different for summer vacation this year, but Kurt has his heart set on the beach house. He promises Sebastian he'll at least entertain other options. ... In his defense, he finds something very entertaining. (2316 words)

Notes: This is an ACITW inspired fic I started writing last summer before my computer died on me.

Read on AO3.

“So, babe, I was thinking …” Sebastian leaps over the back of the sofa to sit beside Kurt scanning the pages of the latest Vogue magazine.

“That’s dangerous. Real dangerous,” Kurt comments, not lifting his eyes from an ad for Gucci footwear. Kurt seems particularly interested in a pair of blue-and-black brocade loafers, checking the fine print for price and sizing information. Sebastian, knowing by now what Kurt’s long, thoughtful look (narrowed eyelids, scrunched nose, sucked in lips) means, takes note. “Didn’t we talk about that?”

“Ha … ha … ha. Anyway, what if this year, instead of going to the beach house for the summer …?”

Sebastian doesn’t get farther than that before Kurt drops his magazine and glares at him with the ice-cold burn of a lover scorned.

“Wh-what!? Not go to the …! Why!?”

“Babe…” Sebastian knew there was a chance Kurt would react this way from the second he opened his mouth. Kurt is always at his most deadly when he won’t let Sebastian finish a sentence. But Sebastian had hoped he might be persuaded to listen to reason, especially since he’d mentioned wanting to go on a pilgrimage to the House of Alexander this year. If anything could break them out of their summer vacay rut, it should have been McQueen. A jaunt across the pond would have been a welcome change from their usual trip to North Carolina. But apparently Kurt is too sentimental to break from their routine, even for a journey to the temple of his idol.

Sebastian had been hoping against hope … and he lost.

“Because we go to the beach house every summer!”

Kurt’s eyes shift left and right, waiting for a more compelling argument. “Yeah, and …?”

“And aren’t you getting a little tired of it? Don’t you think it’s getting old?”

Kurt’s jaw drops in silent gasp. “Who … who are you right now? How … how can you say that!?”

“Because over a decade of summers at the same beach house can get kind of stale, Kurt!”

Kurt shakes his head slowly, disbelief deepening fine lines around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. “You’ve known me for over a decade! Am I getting stale?”

“Do you really want an answer to that?” Sebastian jokes before self-preservation and common sense have the chance to shove his size nines in his mouth and stop him. Kurt’s mouth snaps shut with frightening speed, his teeth making a sound when they meet like the cracking of bone.

“If that’s how you feel,” he says, words short, over-enunciated, clipped at the ends as if with razor-sharp shears, “then I can go to the beach house alone this summer, and you can go somewhere fresher!”

Sebastian sighs. He should have known he wasn’t going to win this one. He was defeated before he began. “Kurt …”

“And while you’re there, maybe you can find yourself someone less hard and crusty since I’m becoming so stale!”

“Jesus Christ, Kurt!” Sebastian’s hands find his hair and pull in frustration. “Stop twisting things around! That’s not what I meant! Arguing about the same thing over and over is getting stale!”

“Then stop arguing,” Kurt poses with a wicked grin. “There. Problem solved.”

“I happen to have good reasons for not wanting to go to the beach house this summer!”

“And those are …?”

“For one thing, it’s nowhere near private.”

Kurt chuckles humorlessly. “It’s on a private beach! That your family owns!”

“Olivia and Brian drop in with the kids all the time, unannounced.”

“So? I love Olivia and Brian! And the kids!”

“So do I! But I also love being able to walk around naked and fuck in the kitchen!”

“No one ever stops you walking around naked here at home! And we’ve fucked in the kitchen so many times, we’ve worn ass marks onto the floor, the island, and the table! You can’t throw a robe over yourself and fuck in a bed like a normal person for one month?”

“Kurt! Don’t you think it’s nice to do something new every once in a while?”

Kurt carefully picks up his dropped magazine so that he has something to toss sassily aside and crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you met me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sebastian says, mirroring the gesture … minus having anything to throw. Not that he didn’t look around him for something suitable, but the only things within reach are coffee mugs and Yankee Candles, and he doesn’t want to accidentally give Kurt a concussion. “You’re stubborn and annoying!”

“Exactly!”

Sebastian snorts at the word Kurt wasn’t quick enough to catch before it flew out of his mouth, turned around, and slapped him in the face.

Kurt closes his eyes on his own faux pas and shakes it from his head. “I mean, about being stubborn. How many times do I stray from the familiar? I wear the same designers all the time, I order the same dish at every restaurant, I’ve driven the same Navigator since high school …”

“Yeah …” Sebastian clears his throat before he accidentally guffaws “… by the way, that’s something we really need to talk about ...”

Kurt’s offended face becomes comically dramatic. “My life is stressful, Sebastian!”

Sebastian pauses his argument to look Kurt over from head to toe - his significant other reclining on the sofa in his pajamas and robe with his feet propped up … at three on a Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah …” He leans over, catches the end of Kurt’s untied belt, and flips it across his waist. “The rigors of your life must be crippling!”

“It’s my afternoon off, you deranged kumquat!” Kurt snaps, tossing the belt back and smacking Sebastian on the chin. “The point is I value our summer together. Most of all, I value the fact that I don’t have to stress out about it because I don’t have to put any energy into thinking about doing something different! It’s a no-brainer!”

“So you’re saying it suits you.”

Kurt points at Sebastian, very reminiscent of a circa 2000 Cooper Anderson. “Watch your step, Smythe, or you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian relents, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. That one went a bit too far.”

Kurt breathes in deep, exhales long. “Look, when we first got together and divvied up responsibilities, you put me in charge of planning summer vacation.”

“Because I thought you’d send us to all sorts of exotic locales with clothing optional activities.”

“We do those over spring break! And on our birthdays! And over New Year’s! We’ve flashed more people than Tara Reid! I like going to the beach house in the summer! It’s tradition!”

“But we can go anywhere in the world!”

“I don’t wanna go anywhere in the world!” Kurt parrots in a whiny voice. “I wanna go to the beach house!”

Sebastian slaps his hands on his thighs and pushes up to his feet. “Fine. Whatevs. Just do me a favor. For me. Because you supposedly love me.”

Kurt rolls his eyes so far back in his head he glimpses his soul. “I guess …”

“Get on your phone and check out some other spots that you might want to go to. Any spot, regardless of distance or cost. Then we’ll compare, list pros and cons, and together we’ll make an educated decision. That way we’ll know one hundred percent for certain that there isn’t somewhere else that tickles your fancy.”

“I already know …”

“Just this once,” Sebastian says, cutting into Kurt’s grousing, “and again, because you love me.”

Kurt’s face pinches, his lips pulled tight to avoid creasing. He drops his head back on his shoulders in exasperation and reaches in his robe pocket for his phone. “All right, all right. But shoo. I don’t need any distractions.”

Sebastian leans in to give Kurt a kiss, grinning when he swats him away like an irritating insect. “Your wish is my command, oh benevolent dictator.”

“That’s Expedia God to you.”

***

Sebastian makes himself scarce for more than an hour running odd errands - one of which includes buying Kurt his favorite cheesecake from the bakery down the block. He’s both encouraged and relieved when he returns home to find Kurt still in the living room when he should be at yoga, bent over his phone, staring intently at something on his screen.

He missed yoga for this, Sebastian thinks. He must be taking it seriously.

Even more than that, Kurt is smiling, lower lip pinched between his teeth, his eyes positively glowing.

‘Yes!’ Sebastian cheers silently, slipping into the kitchen to put away the cheesecake while allowing himself a moment to daydream about spending this upcoming summer vacation on the French Riviera, which they admittedly did last Christmas. Or in Jamaica, where they’d gone two falls ago. Or, like he’d thought, London, which is where they’d spent Fashion Week. Sebastian stops with his hand on the refrigerator door, chewing his own lower lip in thought. Looking back on their lives together as a couple, they have done their share of traveling around the world, even if they do spend every summer in North Carolina. So … spending another one there isn’t exactly a big deal. They’d recently booked a flight to Rio to coincide with the start of the school year, winging over after the egress of promiscuous co-eds vying for one final fling before hitting the books.

Jesus Christmas!

Is he being a jerk about nothing!?

Sebastian pulls out his cell phone and checks his calendar. Nearly every box of every month is filled with meetings, assignments, appointments. But aside from that, it’s cluttered with trips they’ve planned - the Cape for their anniversary; the Poconos for Kurt’s dad and stepmom’s anniversary; Munich for Oktoberfest, which happens to be a tradition that Sebastian started - one that Kurt hasn’t always been so fond of. He can appreciate the food. He can appreciate the beer. He can appreciate the authentic costumes and the lively music and dancing.

But the second people start hugging and slapping each other, he gets a little skittish.

Last year, Sebastian flew Kurt to Milan last minute for Arbor Day, just to give him a reason to make the stupid day memorable. Thus is one of the perks of being rich. He’d planned on making that a tradition.

So that’s two of Sebastian’s traditions to one of Kurt’s.

Sebastian sticks his head in the fridge, smacking his forehead against the butter dish, and groans.

If Kurt wants to spend this summer - and every summer until the day they die - in North Carolina, is it really such a big deal?

But seeing Kurt stare at his phone with a huge smile on his face intrigues Sebastian. Even after everything, their whole argument, he did what Sebastian asked. He gave it a chance. What if he actually found somewhere else he wants to go? Skydiving? Spelunking? Scuba diving? Another hot air balloon ride?

Sebastian swallows hard remembering …

… they can do all those things in North Carolina.

He removes his head from the dairy section and closes the door. Then he strolls back into the living room, nonchalant smile on his face.

“You’re looking pretty focused there, babe. Did you find something you like?”

“Yup.”

Sebastian’s spine tingles with the possibilities. “Willing to share?”

“Well, in order for you to appreciate where I ended up on my journey, I’ll need to walk you through my process.”

“Do tell …”

“I didn’t have any particular locale in mind, but I knew I wanted to go to the beach, so I started looking up beaches.”

Sebastian nods. “Not venturing too far from the comfortable, I see, but still promising.”

“Tropical beaches, exclusive beaches, private beaches, beach resorts, islands …”

“A-ha …”

“I saw a link for this beach in San Diego called Dog Beach.”

“Very nice. Quaint. I’ve been there once or twice. Lots of nice little communities with bungalows …”

“I thought so, too. But I was clicking through the website and I saw the most amazing thing. Something I wouldn’t mind seeing in person.”

“Really?” Sebastian says hopefully.

“A-ha. It had pictures of a surf dog competition …”

Sebastian’s smile dips at the corners. His voice becomes a little tight. “Okay …”

“I clicked on it and …”

“Let me guess …” Sebastian drops his head into his hands, blunt nails digging into the cold spot on his forehead “… you’ve been watching videos of surfing dogs.”

“Yup.”

“For how long?”

“Oh, I don’t know. When was the last time you were in here?”

Sebastian’s arms drop to his side revealing his disgruntled expression. “You’ve been watching videos of dogs surfing for two hours!?”

“I guess. Time’s just … flown by …”

Sebastian watches in agony as Kurt switches to another tab on his phone, bringing up a YouTube video of a bulldog riding a skateboard. Kurt chuckles and shakes his head.

“How’d you learn how to do that?” he baby talks the screen. “You’re the goodest boy, aren’t you? 12 out of 10.” He scrolls down to the comment section to type that in.

Sebastian slaps his forehead. He turns on his heel and heads for the bedroom before he has the chance to go insane. To be honest, he should have known better. He walked into this one, what with his cockimamey ideas about going somewhere else over the summer. “Beach house it is.”

“If that’s what you think is best, dear,” Kurt mutters to Sebastian’s retreating back, deeply enthralled in another dog video. He waits till he hears Sebastian open the door to the bathroom, then closes out the video and composes a text:

To: Olivia

False alarm! We’re on for the beach house!

He giggles conspiratorially when a message immediately pops up.

From: Olivia

Thank God! See you there!

#kurtbastian #acitw #acitw au #sebkurt #sekurt

51 notes · View notes

team-free-will-oneshots · 5 years ago

Text

No Through Road

Title: No Through Road (part eight of the ‘Buried Secrets’ series) Summary: When a new hunt crops up, you and the boys decide to put your feelings aside and prioritise the case. If only it were that simple... Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader Warnings: pining, angst, light swearing, canon-typical violence Word Count: 6,000ish (whoops)

note; merry christmas/happy holidays!!! i’m so sorry!! for the lack of updates !!!!! it’s been killing me too i swear!!!

while writing this i got rly deep into threads debating whether the impala is an automatic or a manual (it’s an automatic btw), just a fun fact. enjoy!

Buried Secrets Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Y/N - I wasn’t aware that you were home.”

Castiel’s voice dragged your attention away from the book in your lap, and you glanced up in surprise to see the angel in the doorway, throwing you a surprised smile that you hadn’t realised you’d missed during your time away.

“Hey, Cas. Yeah, I’m back,” you replied, offering a weak smile in return.

“I take it Dean has apologised?” Cas said sternly, his boots thudding on the timber floor as he stepped into your room. Sighing, you closed the book, tossing it to the side as you nodded glumly.

“Yeah, he has,” you informed him. “Things are… hopefully on their way back to normal.”

Cas beamed. “That’s wonderful,” he said sincerely, but his smile faltered as he recognised the despair etched into your features. He glanced to your bed, eyes darting to yours questioningly, and you nodded. He took a seat next to you. “You don’t seem pleased,” he observed, and you offered a weak smile.

“Things are complicated,” you mumbled, and Castiel’s wide eyes found yours, imploring you to continue. You leaned back against the bedrest, eyes dancing around the room as though, if you looked hard enough, you’d find the answers you so desperately sought hiding under the desk, or in the closet. But alas, the words you needed were nowhere to be found, and so you let your lips spill what they may.

“Before I left… Dean and I had a thing,” you began. “Like… romantically.” Cas nodded.

“Yes, he mentioned that while you were gone,” he affirmed, and you raised an eyebrow in interest.

“He talked to you about me?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “On several occasions, in fact. He was very upset - mostly about hurting you, I believe.”

It took a few moments for this new information to settle, but once it did, you put it aside to dwell on later. “Oh,” you said. “Well, when I left, Sam and I kind of… developed a thing as well,” you said slowly. “But I hadn’t sorted things out with Dean yet, and now… now I honestly don’t know what the hell I’m meant to do. I feel like I’ve hit a dead end - like I’m trapped. I could never be with Sam if I don’t get closure with Dean, but if I get closure with Dean, I don’t know where that would leave Sam and I. I just- I’ve hit a wall,” you grumbled. Cas frowned, observing you thoughtfully as he mulled over your words.

“Who do you want to be with?” he asked, and you sighed loudly.

“I don’t know, Cas, that’s the thing. A part of me thinks I should choose Sam, because he was there for me, y’know? He was so sweet, and- and I felt safe with him,” you said. “He’s practically the perfect guy.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Cas said, and you sighed, shaking your head.

“But Dean… Look, he has some shit to make up for, that’s for sure, but… I feel so drawn to him. Being with Dean, it just feels… right. Like… almost like we’re two sides of the same coin, y’know?”

Cas frowned.

“Oh. Well, that is a bit more complex,” he allowed. “But it seems to me, you already know what you want,” he added, and you bolted upright.

“And what’s that?” you asked. Cas hesitated, and you cast him a pleading expression. “C’mon, man, I’ll take any advice I can get.”

“Well-”

But before he could finish his sentence, Dean was at your door, laptop in hand as he rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. Castiel fell silent, whatever answers he might have bestowed fading out of your reach - at least for the moment.

“Hey, Y/N, we’ve got a case- oh, hi, Cas,” he greeted in surprise. You sighed.

“Raincheck?” you murmured to Cas, who nodded warmly. You walked to Dean, peering over his shoulder and frowning at the computer screen. “What are we looking at?” you asked. You were stood close enough to him that your chin was all but resting on his shoulder, and the warmth of his body next to yours sent a pleasant tingle of electricity down your spine that you forced yourself to ignore. Dean tensed at the slight brush of your body over his, taking half a step forward as he cleared his throat.

“Uh, three victims in the past month - corpses looked like they’d been ‘ravaged by an animal’, all missing hearts,” he said. You mulled over the information.

“Okay, what, we’re thinking a werewolf?” you checked, and Dean nodded.

“Seems like.”

“How far?”

“‘Bout three hours.”

“Great, I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” you said decisively. Dean’s eyes met yours and held your gaze a moment longer than necessary before he nodded, ducking his head and leaving the room. When you turned back to start packing, Cas shot you a pointed look that you couldn’t quite deconstruct with the scent of Dean still in your nostrils, the phantom warmth of his body still grazing over your own - you couldn’t get your own thoughts straight, let alone try to decipher someone else’s.

“What?” you challenged, and he shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“Nothing,” he said softly. “Be safe,” he told you, resting his hand on your shoulder for a moment as you nodded.

“Thanks,” you replied, and you finally managed to untangle your thoughts enough to recall the conversation the two of you had shared.

“Hey, wait, what were you gonna say befo-” you began, but when you span around, the angel was already gone.

---

“So the next victim will either be Sara Aplin or Barry Smith, if we’re right about the co-workers thing,” you mused, exchanging glances with Sam and Dean. The motel room was cramped with the three of you, each bed littered with papers and research whilst the walls were adorned with a myriad of pins and criss-crossing red string. Your gut had been right about the werewolf - you’d narrowed it down to a twenty-seven year old male, Marshall Cooper, who’d had several public disagreements with his co-workers who all turned up dead only a few days later, minus their hearts. He’d had two such rows in the past few days - one with a girl, Sara, who was barely pushing twenty-five, and another with twenty-nine year old Barry.

“Looks like it,” Sam remarked, licking his finger as he leafed through a pile of pages in his hand.

“Great, well at least it’s fifty-fifty,” you muttered, pinning both locations on the map you had stuck to the wall - they were on opposite ends of town. “It’d be handy if they were neighbours - three of us could stake ‘em out together. Why are things never easy?” you moaned, and Sam chuckled.

“Tell me about it,” he replied. You stared at the map a moment longer, smirking as you trailed your finger over the glossy paper.

“Hey, I might’ve found a shortcut between the houses,” you mused, and Dean raised an eyebrow as Sam snorted.

“No offense, Y/N, I’m not taking your directional advice. Remember what happened last time you thought you found a ‘shortcut’?” Sam teased, and you giggled at the memory.

“Yeah, pretty sure a branch hit you in the face - you shoulda seen yourself, you looked so shocked,” you laughed, exchanging knowing grins with the youngest Winchester as you elbowed him fondly. He shook his head, smile lingering on his lips as your skin brushed over his. He pressed closer to you, holding contact a moment longer than he should have.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” he chuckled, shaking his head to himself as he watched you fondly, a sweet smile tilting the corners of his lips.

Dean stood, unable to tear his eyes from you as Sam brushed up against you, both of you so casually comfortable in one another’s presence as you rattled off inside jokes he could never hope to be a part of. Just how much had you and his brother shared during your time away? How could he ever compete with the easy conversation and affectionate gestures the two of you so readily exchanged? Maybe he should just give up - maybe he’d forced any hope of a relationship between you towards a dead end the moment he’d sent you packing. Maybe there was no coming back from this one.

Dean grimaced, forcing the thoughts away as his green eyes wandered over the faded newspaper clippings pinned to the walls.

“And if we’ve got the pattern right, he’ll strike tonight,” he interrupted. You and Sam mellowed, stepping apart and falling back into business mode as Dean took on the authoritative role. “Alright, Y/N and I will stake out Sara’s house, you handle Barry’s. We good?” Dean checked. Sam glanced to you, eyes questioning, and you cast him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah. Sounds good,” you replied firmly, and you saw Dean throw you a tentative half smile as his eyes met yours. He held your gaze for a moment before it quickly flickered away. The moment, however brief, held a level of intimacy that half-frightened you, but simultaneously sent a warm kaleidoscope of butterflies dancing in your stomach. Though intense, the feeling was familiar - and for a moment, things were almost back to normal.

You were jolted back to reality when Sam cleared his throat, the magic of the moment dissipating as the gravity of your situation crashed back down on you, an anvil weighing heavily on your shoulders. When you looked at the tall Winchester, his eyes betrayed a hint of jealousy that he quickly hid behind a smile.

“Alright. You’re sure you wanna go with Dean, Y/N?” he checked. “I mean, we’ll probably be waiting awhile.” You nodded.

“Yeah - Dean and I probably have some catching up to do, anyways,” you conceded, casting Dean a half smile that brought a grin to his face.

“Besides, we’re practically the hunting dream team - no offense, Sammy,” he said with a chuckle, and you shook your head in amused exasperation.

“It’s Sam,” the younger Winchester corrected with a roll of his eyes. You ignored their bickering, glancing out the cramped motel window to see dusk rapidly descending over the small farming town.

“We should get going,” you interjected, snatching Baby’s keys from where they sat on the bed. You jingled them tauntingly. “I’m driving,” you added with a wink. Dean’s cocky grin dropped quicker than a bag of stones into water.

“Oh, hell no,” he objected, but you shot him a smirk, tucking your gun into your waistband as you left the motel, tossing an amused Sam a wave over your shoulder. Dean hastily followed, lunging for the keys that you quickly protected in your closed fist.

“Sorry, Dean!” you teased in a sing-song tone, and the eldest Winchester pouted.

“C’mon, Y/N! You always ride the curb!” he all but whined, and you grinned.

“Shoulda thought of that earlier, slowpoke,” you shot back, and though he rolled his eyes, there was no malice in his act.

“I’m so sorry, Baby,” he whispered, patting the roof once before slipping into the passenger seat. You cranked the engine the moment the door clicked shut, pulling out from the motel parking lot and merging onto the main road as the passing scenery faded into a vague green blur.

“Hunting dream team, huh?” you remarked, and Dean shrugged, smiling wolfishly.

“Yeah, you know we work well together. Remember that wendigo case a couple years back?” he prompted, and you laughed.

“The one in Minnesota? When Sam had the flu, and we went in totally unprepared?”

“Yeah,” he said, face falling a little at the mention of Sam’s name. He brightened as he continued. “We mighta been unprepared, but we found that damn thing’s hideout in record time. Ganked that son of a bitch before it knew what hit it,” he reminded you, and you raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Really? I seem to remember you ‘finding the hideout’ by literally falling over into the cave, being attacked, and then I had to come save your ass,” you responded, and Dean shrugged.

“Potato, potahto… got it done, didn’t we?”

You smiled. “Yeah, we did. I guess you’re right… we are pretty awesome,” you said, winking at him and feeling a knot of butterflies rise in your stomach at his resounding chuckle.

“Yeah, we are,” he said, his eyes lingering on the smile curving your lips when you glanced back to the road. A comfortable silence settled over the car, and you felt your neck prickled as his gaze didn’t leave you. When you glanced over at him, of course, he jostled himself away from you, eyes glued a little too intently on his phone.

“Whatcha doing?” you asked, and his eyes darted over to you in surprise.

“Uh- looking at directions,” he stammered. You glanced at his phone screen - blank.

“Right. Well, google maps is for losers who can’t read street signs,” you said firmly, and Dean rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“Ha, ha,” he said dryly, tucking his phone into the pocket of his jeans. The Winchester settled back into the passenger seat, folding his arms behind his head. “Fine then, I won’t tell you the street,” he said stubbornly. “I’ll bet ya five bucks that you’ll miss it.”

You snickered. “You’re on,” you replied. A few minutes later a smug grin was etched over Dean’s face, and you shot him a hard look.

“What?” you demanded, and he chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Nothing, nothing…”

“This is the right way!” you insisted, nodding to the road before you. Sure, it looked a little unfamiliar, but that was just because it wasn’t broad daylight, unlike your last visit to the house… right? Dean forced a straight face.

“Sure, this is the right way…” he allowed, before sniggering. “If you’re looking for a dead end,” he tacked on, nodding to the ‘No Through Road’ sign glinting in the fading light. You released a guttural noise of irritation - yet another dead end. You seemed to be hitting a lot of those lately. Dean released the laugh he’d been biting back.

“Good try, sweetheart. Street was two blocks back,” he said, and you scrunched your nose up at him.

“Thanks, Alexa,” you snapped back, though you couldn’t restrain the grin that split your face when you threw the car into a three-point-turn, “accidentally” reversing straight into the gutter. Dean’s mouth fell open in horror, and you feigned innocence.

“Oops!” you cried dramatically, tone ringing with exaggeration. “Sorry, Baby… this never would’ve happened if someone had told me when the turnoff was…” you continued, stroking the steering wheel and shooting Dean a sweet smile.

“Very funny,” he replied, his annoyed expression quickly melting into one of bemusement as his lips spread into a nostalgic smile. “Hey, remember that case with-”

“-the haunted maserati?” you finished easily, and he nodded, whistling.

“We really totalled it, didn’t we? Damn shame, too, did you hear her engine? Never heard a thing run smoother,” he remarked wistfully, and you bit back a laugh.

“Careful, Dean, Baby will hear you,” you taunted, swinging into the side street that Dean pointed out. “Shame that Sam missed that one, too. Where was he again?” you asked, brow furrowing as you thought back to the long-forgotten hunt. You saw Dean swallow at the mention of his name, and his wistful smile collapsed into a solemn expression as he tensed his jaw.

“Still dealing with that fractured ankle, wasn’t he?” he asked gruffly, and you nodded as the penny dropped.

“Oh, yeah, poor guy,” you tutted, and Dean grunted in agreement, busying himself with scanning the houses dotted evenly along the street.

“This one, right here,” he said suddenly, pointing to a nondescript white house with a garden that needed a little more love than it was receiving. Large bushes obscured much of the lawn, the shrubbery casting shadows that swiftly lengthened as the sun continued to dip below the horizon. You pulled in close to the curb, throwing the car into park and flipping off the engine.

“Well, now we wait, huh?” you remarked, glancing over at Dean. He sighed, nodding as his eyes fell to meet yours. He held your gaze for a moment longer than he ought to, and you couldn’t help but notice the flecks of amber embedded amongst the green of his irises, smouldering like tiny embers in the fading light. The orange sunset glowed on his skin, though dappled shadows danced over his face as the leafy trees overhanging the house swayed in the light breeze. Dean tried a small, crooked smile - just a curve of his full lips, there one moment and gone the next. You released a shaky breath as you flashed a smile in return. Dean tore away his stare, turning stiffly to observe the house once more. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Now we wait.”

---

Dean was bored.

The moment the Impala’s engine had cut out, the two of you fell into a semi-comfortable silence broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind and the steady beat of rain on the roof. The occasional stutter of a motor and the splashing of wheels across puddles pierced the quiet as cars rolled down the street, headlights beaming over the slick black tarmac. He’d busied himself at first by studying the leafy garden plants, before turning his gaze to the peeling white paint of the crumbling fence, counting each stripe of brown wood flickering between streaks of yellowing pigment. But as darkness descended the scenery fell into an indistinguishable grey blur, and Dean could no longer pick a distraction from the outside world.

He shifted in his seat, wincing at the stiffness of his legs. You glanced over at the sound of movement, raising an eyebrow at his evident discomfort. He flashed a sheepish smile, swallowing the lump in his throat spurred on by the glint of your eyes in the dim lighting, the warmth of your body so close to his in the cramped confines of his car.

“You got the time?” he asked weakly. You glanced at your phone.

“Nearly midnight,” you informed him, and he nodded slowly.

“Right. Great. Maybe this thing’ll end up on Sam’s end,” he mused, and you shrugged.

“Yeah, maybe - he hasn’t had anything on his end yet, either, though,” you replied offhandedly, turning back to your phone.

“Oh? You’ve- you’ve been talking to him, then?”

“Just a text here and there,” you said, smiling tightly as you nodded to the phone in your hand. Dean nodded slowly.

“Right. Of course. Good,” he said. Silence once again fell over the vehicle, and having come to a dead end as to alleviating his boredom, Dean spared another glance your way. His breath fell into an uneven patter as he admired the slanting of the low light over your cheek, illuminating the gentle flush of your skin, the gentle parting of your lips as you read something on the screen before you. When a small smile stretched over your lips as you read something amusing, Dean couldn’t help but mirror it as he found himself imagining being bestowed the honour of putting that smile on your face himsel-

You looked over at him, and Dean hastily flicked his eyes back to the house, shaking away the languishing thoughts that tormented his mind and ignoring the pit of yearning that burned in his stomach. You deserved far more than what he could give you. Although he would always be the first to admit such, it didn’t stop the pang of pain that hit his chest at the thought. He busied his mind with other ponderings.

“Hey, I… I don’t think I ever thanked you,” he said eventually, voice stammering and breathy with nerves. He pulled apart his twiddling thumbs, moving to grip the steering wheel with white knuckles. That seemed to surprise you - your eyebrows darted upwards as you shot him a questioning expression.

“For what?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “For- for trying to help me. With the hex bag, I mean. It… you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty clear,” you chuckled dryly, and Dean swallowed thickly as his yearning was overridden by guilt.

“I just mean… I appreciate the thought, is all,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you about it, I just… I’m used to dealing with that stuff on my own. It’s… easier that way.” He refused to meet your eyes, his jaw tight as he fixed his gaze on the empty road before him. You half smiled.

“I’ve noticed. Y’know, it’s okay to reach out when you need to. You’d be amazed how much easier it is to deal with things when you have someone to vent to,” you prodded, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. He chuckled.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he replied. You lifted an inquiring eyebrow, and his smile melted into a somber line. He swallowed, biting back a smirk, a joke, anything to deflect his inner turmoil, and instead allowed his eyes to find your own. “I will. Promise.”

You nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer as you patted his knee once. The thoughtful action stoked the slow burning longing in his chest, but the comfort and safety your touch brought was gone as quickly as it came as you folded your arms into your chest and adjusted in your seat. Dean felt the cold air creep over the empty space you had occupied, the chill sinking into the hollowness in his heart, squeezing it in an icy grasp. He took a shaky breath, his clenched fist falling over the place your hand had occupied. Neither of you spoke.

“Hey, what day is it?” you asked suddenly, and Dean shot you a perplexed look.

“Uh, Monday, I think,” he said. “What, you got an appointment or something?”

You smirked. “No, just thought it’s fitting that we’re hunting a werewolf today.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “Why?”

You shot him a wolfish grin. “It’s Moon-day, Dean.”

The eldest Winchester closed his eyes, tongue in cheek as he fought back a laugh. “Y/N, that was pathetic.”

“Don’t you mean pack-hetic?” you challenged cheekily, and Dean snorted.

“C’mon, though, really? Moon-day? You could’ve at least somehow slipped Howl-a-ween in there, instead,” he shot back, and you smirked.

“Oh, I know, I just wanted to see you in pain at my terrible puns,” you said. Dean rolled his eyes fondly.

“At least you’re a-were that they’re bad,” he replied offhandedly, and you groaned, though you seemed unable to keep the grin off your face.

“Okay, truce,” you said. “I’m out of puns.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart, we can just hit paws on it for now.” He threw you a wink, and you chortled. Dean grinned at your laughter - carefree and genuine, woven with snorts that you futilely tried to disguise with a cough. The so-called ‘ugly’ laughter was music to his ears, a score perfectly composed by the delightful ringing of your voice. He couldn’t name a single melody he favoured over that which was your joy, a noise so pure it had him giddy on the idea that he was the lucky man who had invoked it.

Dean’s own laughter died as he recalled your similar exchange with Sam only hours prior, and he was crushed with the reminder that he wasn’t the only one with whom you had shared such buoyant moments. The cold heaviness crushed him again, and it was all he could do to force a tight half-smile in response to your wide grin. You didn’t seem to notice his dejection, however, as your eyes focussed on something over his shoulder.

“Well, I think our werewolf just turned into a there-wolf,” you remarked softly, cocking your gun and nodding towards the subtle movement in the darkness outside, followed by the rustling of the bushes. Dean snapped into solemnity, twisting around to squint into the darkness. Sure enough, you were right.

“Alright, follow my lead,” he whispered, loading his pistol with a round of silver bullets as he slowly creaked open the door of the Impala and let his boots crunch onto the footpath. You slipped out behind him, letting the door hang silently open as you readied your gun and crept into the overgrown garden. Ankle height grass brushed over Dean’s jeans, leaving tiny seeds clinging to the stiff fabric. He paid them no heed, every last drop of his attention focussed solely on the hunt as he kept downwind of the crouched wolf. He watched as you took position by it’s flank, exchanging nods as he carefully aimed - if all went well, one shot would end this hunt.

But then, when did things ever go well for Dean Winchester?

He cursed as he stepped on a twig, of all things, the thin brown stick hidden in the grass that couldn’t muffle the snap as it splintered under his heavy boot. The wolf shot around, snarling, it’s yellow eyes reflecting thin shards of light as it leapt towards him.

Dean shot - once, twice, three times, before the heavy body landed atop him, screeching and howling, it’s writhing claws digging into his arms before it finally slackened, weighing heavily on his chest. The gun flew from his hand, settling in the grass a few feet away, and he groaned as he shoved the body away.

“Shit, are you okay?” you demanded, eyes branded with concern as you rushed over to help him to his feet. Dean nodded, wincing at his wounds but forcing a steely mask over his face - he’d had worse.

“Yeah, fine,” he grunted, hissing as you slipped off your jacket and held it against his wounded shoulder. He had half a mind to push you away, insist that he was fine, but something about the tenderness of your touch and the gentleness in your eyes had him putty in your hands. For once, Dean let himself relax into your warmth, the tension seeping from his muscles as you rested a hand on his chest and began to guide him back from the car. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but neither of you had mind to mention it - you let it ring out.

The two of you had almost made it through the gate when the other werewolf attacked.

It sprung up from behind, it’s body concealed amongst the large bushes so conveniently dotted around the yard. You felt it’s hot, reeking breath on the back of your neck as it slammed into you, dislodging Dean from your grip and sending him stumbling, dooming him only to watch with wide, helpless eyes as its claws dug into your side.

Dean’s hand shot for his gun only to grasp at empty air, and he felt his chest constrict in panic as you struggled against the wolf, unable to free your arms to defend yourself as it’s snapping jaws inched closer to your face. There was only one thing he could do.

“Hey, Fido!” he bellowed. The wolf hesitated, glancing up with a growl as it’s eyes locked on Dean. “Yeah, you fugly bitch! Come on - want a piece of this?” he roared, throwing open his arms despite the screaming in his shoulder. The wolf leapt at him, and Dean barked a curse as he threw himself to the side, a bush breaking his fall, the sharp twigs digging through his clothes as he rolled to the ground. He scrambled through the grass, catching sight of the glint of his gun a few feet away. The wolf was hot on his tail - he wasn’t going to make it, he realised. Shit - this was it…

That was when he heard a heavy thud and whimper as the wolf was slammed against a tree. Dean risked a glance, pausing with wide eyes and mouth half open as he saw you kneeling with your arms outstretched, pinning the wolf against the trunk with your magic. Your face was glistening with blood and sweat, hair matted and strewn with leaves after your tussle, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t the beautiful sight he’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

“Get the gun, idiot!” you snapped, visibly straining as you struggled to keep the wolf contained. Dean nodded, snapping back to the task at hand and quickly retrieving the gun, emptying the round of silver bullets into the wolf’s chest. It yowled and twitched, but finally stilled. You released a sharp breath as you let your arms fall, the wolf mirroring them as it thumped to the floor.

Dean sprinted to you, collapsing to his knees beside you as he frantically scanned your weary body for wounds. “Dammit, Y/N, are you okay?” he demanded, and you chuckled dryly as you nodded.

“Yeah, just some scrapes and bruises, same as you,” you muttered, wincing and pressing your hand against your blood-slickened side. Dean didn’t relax until he had examined your injuries firsthand, but once he realised you really were fine, he found himself frozen with his hands on your hips and your heaving chest only centimetres from his own. Your eyes met his, wide and sparkling and breathless from the fight, and maybe it was the adrenaline or the fact that you had both almost died, but Dean couldn’t stop himself from crushing his mouth to yours.

He could taste the salt of your sweat tinged with the metal of your blood as your lips met in a bruising kiss, his hands instinctively pulling you closer as you melted against him. Your hands were in his hair, scraping delectably against the nape of his neck as he poured every drop of passionate relief into the rough motion of his chapped lips over your own. His tongue found yours, hot and desperate as his arms caged around you, clutching you to his chest as though you’d never be safe anyplace else…

...and then he was pulling away with a start, detangling his limbs from your own as he guiltily ducked his head and cleared his throat. He didn’t meet your eyes, only allowed himself a sharp exhale as he pushed to his feet, eyes scanning his surroundings for any other threat as he silently berated himself for losing control in the way that he had.

You didn’t speak either, only huffed as the sound of your ringtone pierced the air once more. His gaze finally found yours as you tugged out your phone, and you offered him a tight smile as you held it to your ear.

“Sam?”

The single syllable sent Dean’s stomach plummeting. What was he thinking, kissing you like that? What the hell was he doing? He’d seen the way you’d looked at Sam - the jokes, the coy smiles and flirty banter. He didn’t stand a chance - and yet there he’d gone, kissing you like there was no tomorrow, like none of the past week had ever happened.

God, what kind of a hole had he dug himself into now?

---

Your mind was still reeling from Dean’s kiss - it had been all too easy to lean into it, to lose yourself in the pressure of his lips, the heat of his skin as he held you like he’d never again have the honour. Your skin still burned from his touch, your lips still buzzed from the taste of him - he’d consumed all your senses, his presence wrapping itself around you even though the only thing against your skin now was the cold night air.

Your phone rang, and you snapped from your trance as you pulled it out with shaking hands and accepted the call, eyes skimming blindly over the ID as your thoughts were drenched with the press of Dean’s body over yours, so passionate and warm, but so right.

Dean’s eyes finally met yours, and the guilt so deeply set into his expression had your brow creasing in confusion as you sent him a tentative smile that he didn’t return. Did he… regret it?

“Y/N!” a breathless exclamation sounded on the other line. You blinked, flipping back to reality as you registered the owner of the voice.

“Sam?” you gasped.

“Yeah! Listen, I think there are two wolves - I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! I’ve been reading over the case, and Marshall had a roommate who seemed a little too closely involved in-”

“Yeah, we know,” you replied dryly, shaking your head once to clear yourself from the lingering traces of Dean’s affection. “We-uh- we got it. Them. Both of the- look, both werewolves are dead,” you stammered eventually, and you heard a sigh of relief on Sam’s end.

“Great - are you okay?” he asked, voice heavy with worry.

“Fine,” you managed. “We’re both fine. Bit worse for wear, but fine.”

“Okay - okay, well, good. Let’s meet back at the motel, then.”

“Yeah - get the first aid kit ready if you beat us there,” you replied tiredly.

“Yeah, of course. See you soon,” Sam bid, and you sighed, tucking away your phone as he hung up. You glanced up at Dean, who was stubbornly avoiding your stare.

“It was Sam,” you told him, trying to coax his eyes back to you. They flashed to yours for a brief moment but left just as quickly. Dean grunted.

“Yeah? What’d he say?”

“Just that there were two wolves.”

Dean snorted. “Better late than never, I guess,” he muttered, and you allowed a short laugh as you both limped back to the Impala, sliding into the seats and nursing your tender wounds as the adrenaline faded from your systems.

“Yep. Turns out Marshall had a roommate. Two man pack. Guess you could say he was a werewolf in sheep’s clothing,” you said cheekily. That pried a smile from the eldest Winchester, finally brought a hint of a gleam back to his green eyes.

“Good one,” he chuckled, cranking the engine and pulling away from the curb. You half-opened your mouth, ready to approach the subject of the adrenaline induced act you had shared, but the look in Dean’s eyes had you second-guessing yourself. His jaw was tense, his fists tenser as he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

He regrets it, you realised, feeling your heart sink as you released a sharp breath.

“Right,” you said eventually. “Let’s get patched up and get the hell outta this town, huh? I bet the cops’ll be here any second, after those gunshots,” you mused. Dean squeezed the wheel tighter.

“Right,” he said tersely, relaxing slightly as you leaned back into the seat and rested your head against the glass of the window. The car was stiff with tension that slowly dissolved as the scenery shifted and blurred outside, and you winced at the throbbing headache that had flared up behind your eyes. Of course your short reprieve from it had been too good to last - how fitting that it should spring up alongside the aching in your chest as you recalled the heat of Dean’s mouth on yours, and the downcast guilt etched into his expression afterwards.

You couldn’t erase the kiss from your mind - couldn’t forget his touch, his scent, his… everything. And it was then that you realised;

You hadn’t reached a dead end, not at all - just the opposite. You’d found a fork in the road, a crossroads, and now you were faced with a glaring choice.

Two paths, each just as tempting as the other - and now you had to do the impossible. For their sakes, for your own sake…

You had to decide.

__________

Part 9 coming soon !!!!!

Buried Secrets tags: @clarinette07 @demonsofhunting @carryon-doctor-lock @coupleofgoons @colie87 @non-exclusive-trash @txnii-hxrdyy @spaghettiwoes @supersouthy @bee-happy-buzz-on @lolmkaythen @defenderrosetyler @sammykb1994 @cocklesbelli @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @witch-of-letters @lilasundari @aquaastrid @deathofmissjackson @officialmarvelwhore @imdoingathingmom @thebookisbtr @sideblogsmutting @keepcalm-and-beyou @stormnightsong @spopovich

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme @kina666 @liviaolivia @simplyxparker @helpmeluci @demonsofhunting @lilulo-12

Dean tags: @polina-93 @justagirlinafandomworld @justanotherwinchester @shadowkat-83 @teenwaywardasgardian

Sam tags: @sammys-dimpless

Let me know if you wanna be added to any tag lists !!

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #spn imagine #spn fanfiction #buried secrets series

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years ago

Text

you wrote ‘don’t forget’ on your arm // 2 // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: The Dirt.

A/N: @misscharlottelee and @local-troubled-writer . warnings for attempted suicide, overdoses, drugs, alcohol, swearing, angst, and everything else in The Dirt movie. Very Long.

Part 2 of 2

----

Lola’s holding Nikki’s hand. Jupiter’s sitting behind them in the theatre, with Seo on one side and Penny on the other, with their siblings, and various band members’ children filling the row beside them; the band themselves, and the cast, sitting in the row in front.

And Lola’s holding Nikki’s hand in her white-knuckled grip, nervous. She doesn’t speak. The lights go dark. Jupiter doesn’t know quite why they do it, but they take Penny and Seo’s hands too.

“The 1980s. The worst fucking decade in human history...”

Jupiter’s never gone out of their way to learn much about their family history; it’s never done them any favours, and they don’t wanna read about how debauched their family was. Nikki, technically their stepdad, was a base player, and that’s all they cared to know. Love of their mom’s life. Whatever.

“That’s Tommy, our drummer. He makes a lot of bad choices.”

It’s with a huff of amused resignation that both Jupiter and Penny make a noise of agreement, trying to detach themselves from watching Colson as Tommy go down on a girl on the big screen in front of them. After hearing them, Lola casts a quick glance over her shoulder, giving an amused smile.

The first thirty seconds gives Jupiter more information than they’d ever wanted to know about their extended band-family, though they knew Mick was their favourite for a reason.

So it comes as a shock to see Nikki’s life laid bare in the first few minutes, so quickly after that. About shitty boyfriends his mom had had, how he’d framed her for abuse, how he’d been put into the system, how he’d met Lola.

“And then there was her, the only person I’d met who could top my psycho mom origin story.” The film crash-cuts through two second clips of a young Lola arguing with her mother, and her mother shoving her into a candle, followed by young Lola screaming in a hospital bed, her in court, and finally her glaring down at a young Nikki in a group home. She kicks him hard in the shin while he’s asleep on a sofa, contrasting the voice over. “The only person in the world who seemed to give half a shit about me.”

And Jupiter finds theirself with a strange, hollow feeling in their chest; five minutes and they know more about their stepdad than they’d ever bothered to learn in the before.

“Dude! Fuck yeah! Finally my turn!” Tommy’s voice rings out, and the scene shifts.

Jupiter knows Tommy’s story almost too well, but Penny’s grip on Jupiter’s hand turns suddenly painful.

“If I knew you were gonna make me late, I wouldn’t have invited you at all!” Tommy groans as he steps into the kitchen, and the camera whip-pans around to show Charlotte, all dressed up, looking as ready to go out as Tommy, contrasting the rest of the family.

“I’m never going to say no to your mom’s cooking,” Charlotte tells him with half a bread roll in her mouth, before smiling sweetly at Tommy’s mother, thanking her.

“Just keep him out of trouble,” his mother tells her with an amused smile, and Charlotte stands, taking another bread roll and heading to Tommy.

“She can try.” Tommy snorts, clapping her on the back, “come on, I don’t wanna miss them!”

Charlotte, as portrayed by Josie, is bright and cheerful, sarcastic and more earnest than the rest of the band put together, and Penny’s hand in Jupiter’s is trembling as Tommy’s voiceover explains that Charlotte’s his cousin, and the only person in the family who ‘wasn’t a square’.

Nikki and Lola meet Charlotte and Tommy that night in the diner, and Lola’s bleeding, same as Tommy, and Charlotte asks if she’s dead.

“Charlie’s the only person I’ve known who could talk Lola out of a bad idea,” Tommy’s voice over explains, just as Lola, in the diner, grimaces and spits a mouthful of blood.

“Fuck you,” Lola glowers at Charlotte.

“And Lola’s one of the few who could lead her into one.” Tommy adds candidly in hindsight.

But then Tommy’s twirling his drumsticks, and Lola goes from looking murderous to intrigued; she and Nikki share an impressed look, and the scene cuts to the one of Mick’s introduction.

Surprisingly enough, Jupiter wasn’t shocked by any of Mick’s story, they’d spent a lot of time with him in their early 20s, he’d taught them guitar.

But then there’s Vince’s introduction, his first jam session with the band, and the naming of the band. In the background, there’s Lola, always there, always unexplained, just around, just like Charlotte, the two chatting, forming a fast friendship in the background.

And then the first gig rolls around, the scene starting with Lola kicking in the greenroom door.

“We had only three things that gave us an edge that night;” the voice over of Nikki informed the audience, “our look, our killer sound, and the best roadie on The Strip.”

“House is looking pretty full,” Lola told them, making a beeline for the bottle of JD sitting next to Nikki, who was applying his makeup. Tommy pauses his drumstick twirling to fist pump. “Nice pants,” she tells Vince, who was stretching in a pair of white leather pants, grinning.

“They cost my girlfriend like eight hundred bucks.”

At the end of the scene, she gives Vince a kiss, for luck, followed by a wink, and Jupiter, who knew this part of their mother’s story, still feels a sense of discomfort. This wasn’t just gossip anymore; their mother’s history is public knowledge, now more than it’s ever been.

The fight that ensues during the band’s first gig shows Lola get punched in the face by someone in the crowd, and later, once everyone’s been tended to, Charlotte and Lola can be seen by the bar at the back of the crowd, and Charlotte’s checking if Lola’s nose is broken, both women laughing at the situation. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but neither Jupiter nor Penny does, and later letting out a gentle, fond ‘oh’.

A montage follows, of the band getting their act together, writing music, playing at pubs, their names on the marquee, making a backdrop, always with Lola and Charlotte somewhere in the background.

But then Vince’s girlfriend catches him with Lola, and all she does is laugh, while Vince chases after his girlfriend, butt naked. Charlotte takes the photos of the band with the giant hot dog, and she and Lola help dye Tommy’s hair, and generally indulge in the band’s bastard antics.

It’s clear from their body language that the women are close by the time Zutaut is introduced and the band is playing the Troubadour. Charlotte’s given his business card while Lola pack’s up the band’s gear after a gig, while the rest of the band debauch themselves in the crowd.

A record deal comes, then the introduction of Doc McGee, though Mick pauses the film for a moment after Doc is introduced by punching out an unruly guest at a house party.

“This didn’t actually happen. Doc never came to this filthy shithole. That guy? That happened, but it wasn’t Doc.” The scene rewinds to show Lola knocking out the guy, throwing him out of the party. “When she wasn’t fucking or sucking the rest of the band, she did a pretty good job as our security detail, and now, we had the cash to pay her for her,” he cleared his throat pointedly, “services.”

The scene shifts, however, to show Doc McGee and Doug Thaler outside a door labeled ‘STAGE STAFF ONLY’.

“Doc we met at the Santa Monica Civic Center after a show...”

But when we come back, it’s to the version of the story where Doc is the hero in the apartment party, being introduced by Zutaut.

Charlotte is there for their first stadium show, giving them all a pep talk while Lola's nowhere to be found. Tommy makes a point of hugging her tight enough to lift her off the ground.

“You keep me sane, Charlie.”

“Get off me you grub; wash the vomit out of your fuckin’ mouth!” Charlotte exclaims in protest.

Which is a sharp contrast to the reveal a few moments later, after following Zutaut asking after his girlfriend, to reveal Vince and Lola tag teaming said girlfriend. When they emerge, the rest of the band admonishes the pair of them, but Lola just rolls her eyes. When she steps away, Charlotte punches her in the shoulder and Lola blows a kiss to her.

“I found out many years later, and it hurt. Really bad.” Zutaut tells the audience in an aside, “bottom line is, don’t ever leave your girlfriend alone with Motley Crue, ever! Because they will fuck her.”

Another montage, of band rising in fame, posing for magazines, of meeting a then-relatively unknown Guns ‘n’ Roses, including shots heavily implying Charlotte’s burgeoning romance with Duff McKagan, and Lola’s equal parts mocking and supportive.

“How many chicks have you fucked so far?” Nikki asks, reclining, fully clothed, by the pool, enjoying a day off during their tour with Ozzy Osbourne.

“Three,” Vince tells him, eyes still glued to the ass of the girl who had just passed them all.

“No, not today, on the tour,” Nikki enthuses, and Vince’s expression lights up.

“Oh man,” he laughed in a dazed, high sort of way, “I lost count after that gangbang in Salt Lake City.” He chuckled, and by Tommy, Charlotte makes a noise of disgust, “prude.” Vince rolls his eyes at her where she’s sitting at the back of a chair with Lola on the end.

“She’s just mad ‘cos she left her own piece of ass in LA,” Lola snorted, and Charlotte shoves her from the chair.

“Did you ever stop to think that the slobs who fuck you guys probably fuck every other band who comes through town?” Mick cuts in with his characteristic monotone.

Charlotte sticks her tongue pointedly out at Lola, still sitting on the ground.

“I’m a one-band slob!” Lola turns her nose in the air as the rest of the band laughs.

“We’re like pussy brothers with the whole scene!” Tommy exclaims.

Ozzy Osbourne imparts his words of wisdom, snorts ants, and it’s followed by a montage of the band absolutely raising hell, setting fires, smashing up hotel rooms and throwing entire hotel rooms worth of furniture out of windows. There’s cocaine and nudity in abundance, intercut with a remake of the Looks That Kill music video, which featured both Lola and Charlotte.

Then, with the song rising in intensity, it cuts from Vince meeting Sharise, to Charlotte catching Duff cheating on her, and smash-cuts to Charlotte wielding a baseball bat.

“Sucks to suck!” She yells from where she’s standing on top of his car, and smashes his window.

“Fore!” Lola yells, delighting in the mayhem, and takes out his side mirror with a golf club.

And then they’re introducing Razzle; Penny, beside Jupiter, goes still.

His introduction is tongue in cheek and fond as he receives a blowjob under a table when he first meets the Crue.

“I fucking -” the shot cuts mid sentence and his eyes follow a brunette who passes in front of the camera, “ - love America.” And the camera pans out to reveal it’s Charlotte, with freshly died hair and a bloodthirsty expression. He stands, away from his band on the sofa in Vince’s house in the middle of a party.

He follows her to the bar, which Lola’s behind, eating cocktail onions and talking with Charlotte, who’s still mad about Duff.

“Hello, Miss Lee,” he says with a hint of nervousness. Lola watches the interaction with wide, amused eyes, and Charlotte turns, about ready to kill, but she sees Razzle’s earnest smile and unique look, and lets herself relax a little; he’s not Motley Crue or Guns ‘n’ Roses coming to bug her, but she knows him, if only because of Tommy.

“You’re always this proper, Hanoi boy?”

“The rock and roll scene in the eighties has never been known for being a breeding ground for soulmates as much as it had been for various venereal diseases,” Tommy’s voice over cuts in, “but fuck if Charlotte and Razzle weren’t the exception.”

There’s tabloids upon tabloids telling the audience about the hottest new couple, about Hanoi Rocks drummer and Motley Crue’s... well, they always call her something different, never anything nice.

“Every day blurred into the next back then,” Nikki told the audience over the visuals of a montage of various concerts, of Lola walking in on Charlotte and Razzle getting busy in a dressing room, of drinking and debauched parties in mansions, of Tommy meeting Roxie, “and yeah, maybe we started to loose ourselves, but fuck it, we’d never been happier.”

“Move in with me,” Vince tells Sharise. And the film smash cuts to -

“Marry me,” Roxie tells Tommy, and again, a smash cut -

“I’m fucking pregnant.” Charlotte whispers to herself in a dirty bathroom stall.

“Well,” Nikki’s voice over mused, before it cut to a shot of Lola and Nikki furiously tearing at each other’s clothes in the back of a tour bus, “we’d never been happier.”

After that, they’re on tour; Tommy’s parents meet Roxie, and subsequently Roxie calls Tommy’s mother a cunt since she’d said ‘Roxie’s like Lola; a groupie’.

The next scene has a tonal shift, a moment of levity as it’s the band meeting Charlotte’s baby, and in the theatre, all grown up, that baby finds herself with tears in her eyes. The band in the film loves her, as does Hanoi Rocks, who also get to meet her, and Charlotte and Razzle look so fucking proud.

They play God Bless The Children Of The Beast over a montage of baby Penelope growing up, of Charlotte finding herself at home while her various families - blood and not - had to go away on tour. She and Razzle call on the phone but there’s a party happening at his end, and she tries to call Tommy but he doesn’t pick up.

Razzle falls asleep in the studio, looking at a photo of Charlotte and Penny from his wallet, clearly still thinking about them, but he’s in Finland, writing music, and Charlotte just can’t leave the life she’s created. He wants to go back to her but he’s under contract.

Charlotte goes to visit Lola and Nikki, only to find their house trashed from a house party that she clearly hadn’t been invited to. Lola’s asleep on the lawn. Charlotte leaves without waking her.

When Charlotte calls Razzle again, his bandmate, Sami Yaffa picks up, and Charlotte starts crying, starts venting. Sami talks to Razzle about how he should see Charlotte more often, and Razzle, sleep deprived and missing Charlotte like a physical ache, asks why he cares so much.

Razzle flies to see Charlotte and they argue, Charlotte crying, Razzle desperate, both under pressure and acting irrational after not having seen each other for far too long. Penny, all of two years old, hovers in the doorway, watching as Charlotte pulls the engagement ring from her finger and tells Razzle she needs some space if he’s really going to accuse her of things after one phonecall with his bandmate.

“Have you heard from Charlotte?” Tommy’s speaking to Lola over the phone, and when she tells him she hasn’t, asks why, he hesitates. The audience doesn’t hear the rest of what he says, but Lola’s reaction says it all.

“In the years that have passed since this moment, I have become a much different woman, have learned to let go of my anger, have made peace with my past,” Lola’s first and only voice over segment is delivered with a soft, sad tone, “but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive the universe for taking Charlotte from us.”

“What did you do? What did you fucking do?!” Lola’s bawling as she confronts Razzle, who seems clueless, bewildered. Lola punches him in the face. “I know she left because you fought; what the fuck did you say to her to make her leave?” Lola shoves him, and he stumbles back, apologises even though he doesn’t quite know what he’s apologizing for. Lola grabs him by his collar, hollering, “she’s gone! They can’t fucking find her, and now she’s fucking gone!”

It hits him, the expression on his face changing to devastation, and Lola dissolves into tears, the fight leaving her as she cries against his shoulder.

“Charlotte?” His voice breaks, tears tracking down his cheeks, expression blank and shocked.

“It was never his fault.” Lola’s voice over murmurs.

Lola’s high at Charlotte’s funeral, clinging to Tommy and swaying, and Razzle’s holding baby Penny, who’s asking after Charlotte.

Penny’s full-on crying in the theatre, her face against Jupiter’s shoulder, who’s shocked and shaking beside her. Seo squeezes their hand, and then extracts his hand from theirs to pet Penny’s head.

Charlotte’s off her fucking face in the next scene, the party at Vince’s house, almost catatonic against Nikki as he snorts another line of coke. Tommy sees Heather Locklear and somehow she’s the most beautiful, most stable girl at the party, and she’s mean to him, and doesn’t say sorry for his loss, and he might be in love.

Razzle, who’s melancholy drunk, even though it’s been months since Charlotte’s death, goes with Vince to get more booze, even though they’re both drunk, and it all happens so fast, the car crash, making Penny an orphan all within five minutes of screen time.

“You can’t take her! You can’t fucking take her from me!” Tommy’s drunk and hollering at the older couple who’s picking up Penny; Razzle’s parents.

“Get your shit together, Thomas; if she stays with you people, what happened to- to Nicholas will happen to her, I know it will,” Razzle’s mother says with tears in her eyes, “we can’t let that happen.”

“She’s my niece! She’s Charlotte’s kid! She’s all I have left of her!”

They show Vince’s trial, and Penny’s baby photos from her time back in Finland, while Nikki narrated how he and Lola hadn’t even visited Vince in prison, as they’d discovered the wonders of heroin. Together, the drug had made their love invincible, as long as they never touched the outside world. But they bring Tommy in, and Mick’s tired of them all, and by the time Vince gets out of prison, newly sober, their lives had gone to shit.

Doc tries to fire Lola, but she laughs hazily and tells him he doesn’t have the authority, so Vince tries to fire her because she’s on heroin, and Lola takes a swing at him, but she misses and topples to the ground.

He calls her a mess and he’s right.

Lola and Nikki get better at acting like they’re not out of it, and Tommy gets his shit together with Heather, and by the time they’re working on their stage show for the Theatre of Pain tour, they’re in some sort of haphazard order. There’s something sad in Lola’s eyes when she tells Tommy that he and Heather are cute together, but they cut away to Vince and Skylar before it can linger too long.

Tommy mentions how he misses Penny when he sees Skylar, how she should be with him, with family, how he’s finally gotten his shit together.

But then they’re on tour, as narrated by Tommy over Girls, Girls, Girls, his debauched days away from Heather, despite their engagement. He mentions fucking Lola as:

“Two am, renew my mile high club membership by falling back into bad habits... and again at three am, and again at five in the bathroom of the strip club... I’m so fucking weak.”

Nikki sees his mother again after years, and even Lola can’t even bring him out of how hard he’s spiraling this time, self isolating, overdosing after Tommy’s wedding to Heather. Lola’s not at the wedding, but Penny is; she’s a flower girl and Tommy looks ecstatic.

Instead, we see Nikki flatline in the back of the ambulance, we see Vince watch the news reporting on his apparent death, and cut to a shot of Lola finishing a bottle of JD and letting herself fall into the pool on her and Nikki’s property.

Cutting back, Vince tells his daughter that he loves her, and he holds her tight, before a realization comes over him, and he tells her gently to go back to sleep.

The paramedics revive Nikki with enthusiasm, and then we see Vince running barefoot across Lola and Nikki’s lawn, before seeing her illuminated and floating in the pool. He dives in after her, and pulls her out, performs CPR while crying, telling her that he can’t lose her too. Spluttering to life, Lola, soaking wet and still undeniably drunk, tells him he should have left her in there. The scene fades to black as Vince cradles her to his chest.

Nikki tells the audience that he’s hit rock bottom, that he’d start to make a change to his life... right after he goes back to heroin again.

The band, and Lola, go to rehab, and little by little things start to get better. More than anything, they’re trying, Nikki’s trying to enjoy feelings again, but Lola’s uncomfortable, and everyone’s on each other’s nerves; without the drugs and alcohol, it seems like the music isn’t sounding right.

“I forget what happened,” Mick tells the audience in an aside, “it’s all a blur. But with Dr Feelgood we got our first number one album,” and the visuals change to that of their various concerts over The Same Ol’ Situation, “and I think we played something like a billion shows to a billion people in a billion cities all over the world, and it was our first tour without Lola, as she was off being having another kid -”

“First kid, you senile fuck,” Lola’s voice over interrupts with annoyance.

Tommy tries to call Heather, but she doesn’t pick up. Vince tries to call Sharise but she won’t let him talk to his daughter. They’re all getting burnt out, it’s clear to see.

“Guys, I really fucked up,” Tommy sits down with the band at an after party, looking conflicted, “Heather’s been all weird and distant, and...” he hesitated, “I’m pretty sure Lola’s kid’s mine.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nikki snaps, leaning forward, teeth bared, “no fucking wonder Heather’s been weird, Lola’s only -”

“Ten weeks along, I know -” and Vince looks almost physically ill.

“How the fuck do you know the kid’s yours?”

“Because,” Tommy hesitated, “it was right before Nikki OD’ed.”

“Right before your fucking wedding,” Mick spat, and Tommy at least had the decency to look guilty. Nikki looks genuinely hurt.

“Fuck you, man, you’ve already got the wife and fucking kid -” Nikki growled.

“Look, I’m not fucking proud of myself!”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Vince ends the argument by announcing bitterly that he needs a fucking drink, that he’s sick of not having any fucking fun, and the whole band deteriorates from there.

They get back to LA; Sharise has left Vince, Heather leaves Tommy, Nikki comes home to a heavily pregnant Lola, but looks at her like he can’t believe she’d betray him.

“What if we gave this a shot,” Tommy asks Lola when she comes to him in tears, and she sniffles, blinks in confusion, “us, me and you and Penny, and baby Lee, what if we gave it a real shot?”

When Jupiter is born, it’s just Lola and Tommy in the aftermath, looking happier than they have in a very long while. Looking hopeful.

They call the baby Jupiter, and in the theatre, Jupiter themselves is shocked.

“You didn’t... deadname me.” They muttered quietly over their shoulder, and Lola gives a small, sad smile, shaking her head. Of course not.

The hope they feel in the film is shortlived, as Nikki and Tommy get into a fight, over Vince, but the tension is more than just his absence. Vince leaves the band, and the world feels fractured. They get a new lead singer, but it doesn’t feel the same, and when Tommy gets home to see her making dinner with Penny helping out, and Jupiter in a bassinet on the kitchen island, his smile is a little sad, a little forlorn. Lola smiles at him, but something about it isn’t quite right.

Vince sees the band do an interview without him, and while it’s disheartening, it’s overshadowed by his daughter in hospital. He tries to tell her it’ll be okay, but it’s not working, she’s terrified and teary and young, and it’s breaking Vince’s heart.

When the band’s not together, they’re falling apart.

Skylar is dying, Mick’s in pain, reminiscing about the band’s early years, and Nikki gets the rights back to their music as their record label drops them.

“This is what you wanted,” Zutaut tells him, “are you happy?”

Nikki doesn’t answer.

Tommy asks Lola if she loves him. She answers; of course, but there’s something sad about it.

“And Nikki?”

“I’ve always loved him,” her voice is quiet, and Tommy gives her a sad smile.

“I know, Lols.”

The scene cuts, and Nikki’s sitting alone in his backyard, drinking a beer.

“I had our music back, but Zutaut was right; we were better before. Now I just had to get the band back,” he paused in his voice over, and there was a knock on a window near where he’d been sitting. Looking up suddenly, wildly, the camera reveals Lola, looking both nervous and hopeful, “but first I needed her back. The first person I’d given half a shit about.”

“Lola.” He says in the scene, getting out of his chair, voice disbelieving. Lola nods, steps forward, smiles.

“I’ve missed you.”

Then Vince loses Skylar, his whole world falling apart as Sharise sobs, and Nikki goes to visit his father’s. Frank Ferrana is dead, died on Christmas day, and so he leaves, goes back to where Lola’s waiting.

He needs the band back, and he goes to Tommy first.

“Hey man,” Tommy opens the door, exhaling a lung full of smoke.

“What I did at your wedding,” Nikki starts, swallowing hard, “I didn’t...” he fumbles through his words while Tommy stares him down, waits for an apology, “and... and with the whole thing with Lola, I -”

“What’s up, Nikki?” Tommy grumbles, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“I was really fucking selfish, and I shit on something that was important to you, both times, and I am really sorry.” He explains, sincerity clear in his words.

“I know you pretty well, Sixx, so I kind of get it,” Tommy sighs, before adding, “and it’s okay.” He pauses, before grinning, “but could you say that last part one more time for me?” He snickers.

“Don’t fucking push it, T-bone.” Nikki rolls his eyes with a grin as Tommy laughs, and invites him inside.

“I’m really sorry about... about Lola.” Nikki adds, a little guilty as he steps inside.

“Yeah,” Tommy puts on a show of being a little disappointed, “I’m pretty sure she’s gonna end up the one that got away.” He muses, and Nikki apologises, again, much to Tommy’s delight, “nah, man, it’s all cool, you fuckers have been in love since you were sixteen; I know she loves me, but it’s never gonna be the same.” He gives Nikki a good-natured shove.

There’s no hard feelings, and Jupiter meets Nikki - Uncle Nikki - with delight.

Tommy and Nikki find Mick after his surgery, pick him up to go find Vince, and with gentle words they get the blonde back. Nikki’s got a speech, because he’s always got a speech, about how they’re brothers in arms, about how their friendship means more than any fucking band, and when he apologises about what happened to Skylar, Vince breaks down. No-one can blame him.

The last shot starts with Lola, a few months pregnant and holding a clipboard, knocking on a door that says Nikki Sixx, calling his name.

He opens the door, smiles at her, and gives her a kiss before she goes to get the rest of the band, one by one, as Home Sweet Home plays. They walk to the stage, the four of them, grinning, back in action, back at home. They walk onto stage, and Nikki gives a smile to the camera.

In loving memory of Charlotte Lee and Nicholas “Razzle” Dingley.

The credits rolls, and the theater bursts into applause, Jupiter and Penny clinging to each other and bawling.

“You did good, Penny, you did so fucking good,” Jupiter tells her, before moving back, and turning to see their mother, with tear-stained cheeks, watching the pair with pride in her eyes. Without hesitation, Jupiter leans forward to hug their mother tightly, both sobbing.

“I love you, Jupiter,” Lola murmurs against her shoulder.

“I love you too, mom.”

#Razzle Dingley #Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #razzle dingley imagine #razzle x charlotte #mick mars #vince neil #the dirt #motley crue #the dirt imagine #motley crue imagine #the angry lizard writes

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