#maybe if I didn’t have two jobs I could finish wips faster | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eliemo · 4 years ago

Text

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

#spiderman virgil #deadpool remus #superhero au #spiderman au #spideypool #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #violence tw #sex jokes #remus being remus #blood tw #injury #sanders sides #fanfiction #writing

198 notes · View notes

opluffys · 4 years ago

Text

Reverse Captain- Killer x Reader x Eustass Kid

okay okay this is like the last old story from my archive account that i’m posting here *maybe? lmao idk* :,). i’m head over heels in love with killer so i got like ten wips for him lololo. lowkey don’t like how this one turned out, but it’s a couple of months old so idc anymore hehe. anyway i hope you guys enjoy! oh, also sorry if the spacing looks weird, i was too lazy to go through the whole thing and edit it...

-smut/nsfw-

You felt deliciously full and sore, the quick sliding of your captain's cock against your tight walls nearly made you lose consciousness.

"Fuck... Kid..!" You yelled, feeling his girth stretch you.

He grunted behind you and continued to thrust into you wildly, almost as wild as that red hair of his, which was now stuck to his forehead.

Your breasts were flush against the table of his office, rocking back and forth, creating a wanted friction that fueled your desire.

It was no surprise that Kid was rough in bed, just one look at the man and pretty sure anyone could tell. But you just weren't ready for it all, the way his cock just hit every spot inside of you so perfectly... When he leaned down to nip your ear and leave harsh markings on your neck, you felt like you couldn't keep up with him.

You broke the eye contact you had with countless papers and unfinished works in progress on Kid's desk, and looked fervently for your sword. You took that damn thing with you everywhere you went, you would risk your own life for that sword.

When you finally made eye contact with that beautiful blue casing, your face illuminated, you quickly grabbed it, using the hilt of the sword to press against Kid's chest.

"What the fuck..." He started angry, then stumbling backwards onto a stray chair in the middle of the room that fell victim to you and Kid.

"I think you need to slow down a bit, Captain." You said, your voice like sweet honey as you sauntered over to where he was sat, straddling his thighs.

"So you used Sea Stone to tell me that?!" He snapped, about to get up before you pressed the hilt against him once again.

"Ah ah. Feisty are we? I think it's my turn to take charge for the night, don't you, my Captain?" You asked, raising your hips to line yourself up right against his shaft, teasing the redding head with your slick entrance.

"Damn woman..." He growled, trying to get up again, but you were barely faster than him, trailing the hilt of the sword all over his body, making him groan tiredly.

"I would fucking end you if you weren't such a good doctor." He grumbled, still attempting to take charge every few minutes, evidently failing.

"That's all I am? Your doctor?" You responded, faking a disappointment tone. You still continued to rub your folds teasingly over the painfully hard head of your captain.

He raised his hand and you raised your sword, he almost chuckled, instead sending a smirk your way.

"Relax, princess. If I still wanted to actually take charge, you would've been screaming my name over my desk years ago. I guess I'll let you dominate this one time, but next time," He leaned into your ear, nipping it and taking the sensitive cartilage into his mouth. "You're gonna be wishing that you had done it my way." He finished.

You gulped nervously, the tone of his voice nearly made you want to bend yourself back over that desk, forgetting the thoughts of ever wanting to dominate your captain ever again.

Kid let out booming laughter at your reaction, about to come up with a snarky retort, but he was soon silenced by a grunt of pleasure as you finally decided to lower yourself onto his hardened arousal.

"Oh, fuck... So tight..." He whispered, biting his lip as he tried to silence his sounds.

You shuddered noticeably as he filled you to the brim, no, even further than that. He never let you ride him before, because 'You're too slow.' as he said. But as of now, being slow worked in your favour, making the red haired captain begin to lose his cool, grunts and groans of frustration leaving his full painted lips.

"Oh! Oh Captain!! Yes!!" You yelled, feeling his strong arms just tightly wrapped against you and feeling his warm pants fanning across your equally warm face just did something for you.

"Keep talking like that... I won't fulfil my end of the deal." He panted, hands attached to your plush hips, grinding against him thoughtfully.

"That'd be a shame, Captain... Because next time, I'm up for whatever you wanna do. And I mean anything, Kid." You said, sultrily pulling him in and out of you, your wet insides protesting him pulling out every time.

That seemed to shut him up for a while.

"So I've been thinking." You started, bottoming out on his lap, hissing in pleasure after feeling so full. "Your first mate, Killer... He doesn't like me much?" You asked, warming his cock, leaning your forehead against his pectorals.

"I know how Killer ticks. He doesn't hate you or anything, just no reason to make conversation with you. Why do you ask?" Kid replied, unconsciously bucking his hips upwards once in a while, earning you to pull your sword out and poke him with it a couple of times.

"No reason. I just think he's kinda sexy. What's under that mask leaves my imagination running wild, ya know." You said playfully, using your agile hands to tweak and pinch every inch of his built torso.

"What are you really getting at, (First Name)." He said, tone now completely serious, and even though he was stilled inside of you, length twitching and just dying to ravage your insides, the captain's voice never faltered, remaining serious.

"Okay, maybe I daydream of being pinned under your first mate, childhood friend, whatever. But hey, I admit it that he's really, really hot. Okay, happy now, Eustass?" You groaned, hitting your head against his chest in embarrassment, ready for him to scream at you for wanting to have sex with his best friend.

"Okay."

"Yes, I deserve whatever punishment you think is fit- wait, what?" You paused, thinking that you didn't hear him properly.

"I was your first, but by no means were you mine. So if you wanna fuck another dude, at least do it when I'm gone, or some shit." He grunted, rolling his eyes when he saw your surprised expression.

"Fuck, Kid. Please bend me over and fuck me as hard as you want." You whimpered, feeling so pleased at his response.

"With pleasure, princess." He replied, sending a wicked grin your way, harsh hands attached to your sides.

You stood at the edge of the ship, waving goodbye to your captain, who stood alongside Heat and Wire, going into the next island that you all had drifted to.

The two of you decided to hatch up a not too great plan of leaving you and Killer alone on the ship, which was 'I leave with Heat and Wire to the next island, because I'm captain, I do whatever the fuck I want.' which, had actually worked out well.

He sent a shit eating smile your way, then turned around to take his leave, the two other men following their captain.

Killer stood by your side silently, he was never one for being chatty, you knew that much. You took a few looks at the man, his plain black shirt hugging his muscles so tight, that scar on his arm made you tighten your legs, feeling an undeniable warmth flood your senses. You continued your not so subtle stares, the way his blonde mane fell down his broad shoulders and framed his body looked phenomenal, and the only thing you couldn't see was that damn face of his. You stared at the dozen holes on the striped mask, almost like trying to see through it.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. You stiffened, looking upwards towards the blonde, feeling so small in his presence.

You didn't get to be in bed with Eustass Kid for feeling small, though.

"No, Killer." You said, dragging his name out from your tongue, walking closer to his stature. You leaned against his strong chest, a gentle hand laying on his rippling muscles.

"But I think that you have something the matter with me." You said, taking your hand off of him, giving him a sly smile.

"You must've imagined it." He replied coolly, walking away to his quarters, not even giving you a chance to further your attempt at a conversation.

You clicked your tongue and walked past Kid's lackeys, who were all staring at your ass while you passed by, going to wandering into the kitchen.

You turned your head to look at them, smiling at how painfully obvious they were being while gawking at you. If only Killer sent a single gaze your way like these men here, it'd make your job of seduction a lot easier.

You took a seat in the kitchen, a stray chair in front of the stove. You picked at your nails, desperately waiting for someone to scream for your help, claiming they've been injured and needed your help. Though it was a bit bad to wait for someone to become injured, it was your role to assist them.

You didn't know when, but you leaned your head over onto your hand and started to doze off for a while, only jolting awake when you heard the sound of running water from behind you.

"Finally awake?"

You turned to where the voice came from, swallowing hard when you saw that mess of blonde hair.

"There's a plate in front of you, if you're hungry." He said, continuing to wash dishes. Yes, of course you were hungry, but not for food.

You hummed softly, getting up to smooth your skirt and walk over to Killer, offering your hand to help. "Maybe later. How about some assistance?" You asked, settling next to him to dry the wet plates. He shrugged lightly, his blonde tendrils swaying along his strong shoulders. Oh, how you wanted to just grab onto those shoulders while he thrusted into you wildly, grunting and groaning in your ear how you took him so well-

"Here."

You snapped out of your daydreams and took the plate from him, drying it off and placing it onto the shelf.

The two of you sustained a steady rhythm of washing and drying for a while, until you accidentally had dropped a glass cup, seeming to smash into a million pieces upon impact.

"Shit." You mumbled, crouching down to pick up the glass with your bare hands, of course, a bad idea, but you weren't weak, you could take a few cuts as long as you cleaned the mess.

Killer stood silently behind you, admiring the view of you bent down, even though he really shouldn't be. He pulled you up by the arms, surprising you, nearly dropping the glass shards.

You looked at his mask with a perplexed look on your face, dropping the bits of glass into the trash bin, dusting your hands off.

Killer started walking over to you, and you, being confused of what he needed, continued to back up, until your back hit the wall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop it or anything. Besides, I cleaned it up. We all good?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Why do you do this, (First Name)." He asked, grabbing your chin in his calloused hand, forcing your wandering eyes to peer into the mask.

"Do what?" You replied, resting your hand atop his sculpted arm, his muscle twitching at your touch.

"Make me want to pin you against the wall and fuck your brains out." He said, not moving his hand from your skin.

You froze in place, it seemed your job was easier than you had thought. "So do it, Killer." You smiled, tracing your hands over his strong torso.

"I can't." He answered, moving away from you, back to the sink to dry the rest of the dishes. You frowned, your painted lips then creating a flat line as you stood in thought.

"You can. I'm the captain's girl, right?" You said, walking behind him, trailing your nails through the material of the black shirt, feeling his muscles tense under you. "And you're captain when he's gone." You said, standing on your tippy toes to nip at his strong neck, leaving a barely visible mark behind.

You were sure you didn't even blink before you were over the counter, Killer's arm against your back, preventing you to move. A smile spread across your features, sighing contently as you felt his other hand squeeze and pinch along your clothed body.

"Mm, Killer..." You whimpered softly, grinding against his crotch. His breath hitched, but he easily retaliated, a loud hiss of pleasure leaving your lips as you felt a stinging sensation on your ass.

"I guess you're just like captain. Always wanting to take charge." You sighed, feeling the cool air hit your dripping cunt, accommodating the size of Killer's digits. "I guess so." He said, his gaze on how you took his three fingers.

You moaned loudly, biting your lip while shifting your weight from foot to foot, unable to take the torture any longer. "I didn't come here for your fingers." You grumbled, closing your eyes as he curled his fingers deep inside of you.

"Yeah, but this is probably the only time I'm going to be able to enjoy you. Gotta take it nice," He stopped, pulling his fingers out to circle your clit. "And slow." He finished. You were sure he was smirking underneath that mask.

"It doesn't have to be." You whimpered, backing your hips against him again, feeling his bulge rub against you. You heard him take a sharp inhale, contemplating whether to continue the teasing, or to just give in.

"Please." You begged, placing your forehead against the hard table.

And he had his answer.

The sound of a fumbling belt buckle behind you put a smile on your face. "Finally." You mumbled, feeling his tip press against your entrance. You bit your lip from letting out a scream as he suddenly filled you, a shaky sigh leaving Killer's lips.

"Ah... Fuck, Killer!" You panted, your hands grabbing the counter harshly. His tan arm lifted from you, now squeezing your hips tightly, pulling you back against him, relishing in your warmth.

"Killer... Fuck... You stretch me so good!" You yelled, moaning when you felt him fill you over and over again. "You're awfully quiet back there, am I not what you expected?" You said, a fake tone of sadness lacing your voice.

"Unlike you or Kid, I'm not so vocal." He responded, trying not to show the strain on his voice, even when you were wrapped so tightly against him, your pussy dragging him in deeper and deeper with every thrust. "You're even better than I thought, (First Name)." Killer said, pushing himself into you deeper than what you thought possible.

"Isn't this position boring? Why don't you pin me against the wall and fuck my brains out like you proposed? You can even have me do the work and ride you, or even-" You were cut off when your mouth was filled with Killer's long fingers, taking your tongue between them. "You know, you make a good point. I can't see the faces you're making." He said, pulling out of you slowly.

"Why don't we go somewhere more, private." He said, his deep voice making your legs shake. You nodded fervently, pulling your panties up and adjusting your skirt. You tried to take a step forward, but your wobbly knees betrayed you, nearly making you fall down until Killer took your hand, pulling you up gently. "We weren't even going for that long." He said, making sure that you could stand before letting you go. "You're big, what do you expect?" You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

When you were stable, you tried taking another step under Killer's gaze. Again, you failed and your hands flew to his extended arm. He sighed audibly and lifted you up, carrying you like a bride. "What a gentleman." You giggled, your hand wrapping around his neck softly. He didn't reply as he started walking back to his room, obviously attracting stares along the way.

"Killer..." You whimpered, feeling his cock push against your womb, making you see stars. Your back was against the cool wall, seeming to steal the warmth that radiated off of you. "You're tight even when you and the captain go at it everyday..." He grunted, his hips snapping against yours. You would've laughed if you weren't pinned against the wall getting fucked. "Yeah, sorry about that... I know I can get a little, ya know..." You said timidly, a warmth settling on your cheeks after getting called out for being so loud.

"I've always wondered what your lips feel like." You sighed, feeling him stretch you so good. "Not today, (First Name)." He said, biting his lip softly, trying not to let out too much noise, even though you couldn't even hear him. "Come on, Killer. All I've wanted to see was your face the second I joined the crew, and that was years ago, that says something." You said, trying to sound angry, but that was seemingly impossible with a huge cock inside of you.

Killer seemed to stand still in thought, wondering if he could actually show you his face. He didn't hold any negative feelings toward you, but he wasn't sure if he trusted you enough. "And if I do..?" He asked, not moving any longer, his cock deep inside of you. "If you do, then I most definitely think that we would enjoy ourselves much more." You replied, hands squeezing his strong shoulders tightly. He made a sound of disapproval as he pulled out of you again, walking away from you. You barely stood, only with help of a chair next to you were you able to stand.

A confused face took over your gentle features, pondering if you had said or did something wrong. "Damn it, how the fuck did I mess this up so badly..?" You sighed, starting to gather your clothes slowly, silently wishing Killer was here to help you out. It was the least he could do if he didn't want you anymore.

"(First Name), do me a favour." You heard him, he was out of view, for some reason. You hummed, signalling that you heard him. "Close your eyes, just for a little while." He said, his voice coming closer to where you stood. You complied, used to taking orders, especially on a ship where Eustass Kid was captain.

You felt a rougher hand tangle with your soft one, leading you somewhere. You trusted Killer, but you had no clue what he was going to do.

You were stopped for a moment, then brought down onto muscled thighs, your hand still tightly wrapped with Killer's. It took you a moment to realise that you were straddling his thighs, your cheeks adapting a sudden warmth at the intimate pose you two held.

You felt warm lips against yours, your abdomen knotted tightly at the feeling. His tongue softly pushed against your own, his lips tangling within your own in a fierce dance, the two of you seemingly unable to get enough of each other.

Your hand still laced with Killer's, you squeezed it harder unconsciously, feeling your lungs start to burn after not inhaling enough oxygen. Your open hand wandered lower, tracing Killer's strong abs and his beautiful V-line, finally finding his rock hard length, your hand softly pumping it when he released your lips with a groan.

"Fuck, (First Name)... Just like that..." He whispered, his pants warming your face. His breath smelled of a cool mint, opposing your captains fierce cinnamon scent.

Your eyes were still shut, though you were dying to take a small peek, you were sure he was just as beautiful as the rest of his body.

You continued your ministrations while Killer ravaged your soft lips, his lipstick mixing with yours. Any time while the two of you locked lips, you felt his cock twitch in your hands, obviously wanting to be back inside of your warmth. You subtly raised your hips, lining his cock up with your entrance. Just as you started to lower yourself, Killer thrusted his hips forward, sheathing himself inside of you quickly. You yelled against his lips, separating the two of you.

He would've laughed if he didn't dislike doing so. "You know I can see what you're doing, right?" He asked, his harsh tone of voice seeming to disappear.

"S-Shut your damn mouth..." You whispered, closing your eyes tighter than they already were. You opened your mouth to speak once again, but you were silenced by a pair of lips against yours once again. It was as if he couldn't get enough of you, each kiss was like air to him, his lungs burning like a fire until your cool lips met with his scorching ones. It was weird how you were the one who wanted to kiss him so bad, but he was the one who kept initiating it.

He pulled back from you, leaving your lips slightly agape and stinging, a sensation that was welcomed by you. "You can open your eyes now." He sighed, worried about how you'd react.

Your (eye colour) eyes strained open, the light making it hard to fully open them on command. You squinted, then little by little opened them fully, eyes resting on Killer's tanned chest, your mouth wanting to leave markings on the skin. You just realised that your hand still laid on top of Killer's gently, you muttered a quick apology and looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

Your mouth hung open slightly, seeing his blonde hair fall into his face perfectly, his long eyelashes tickling his strong cheekbones, his full lips swollen after meeting your own countless times.

"So handsome..." You mumbled, seemingly forgetting that he was still inside of you. You noticed his cheeks get warmer, as you sent him a small smile.

"Thank you."

He looked at you, confusion written all over his pretty features. "For?" He asked, his now free hand caressing your hips, tracing small shapes with his tall fingers.

"For trusting me... I know we never talk, but I trust you as much as Captain." You sighed, your forehead against his chest. "And well, obviously the other two." You laughed, referring to Heat and Wire.

He didn't know what to say, but he began to feel slightly bad. "Why did you never talk to me, anyway? When I first joined you used to at least make small talk with me, but then it stopped." You said, looking up at him with an undeniable sadness in your eyes. He sighed, averting his stare. "I knew something like this were to happen if I continued to talk to you. When you and Kid became a thing, I had to back off, respect that you were his, or the temptations would overcome me someday." He said, returning his gaze to you.

You hummed, satisfied with the answer. "At least you don't hate me." You said, raising your hips to be able to kiss him again, lips against his own with fierce intent.

"Please fuck me, Killer." You whimpered, unable to take just his stationary cock inside of you any longer. He didn't respond back to you, but began to assist you in moving on top of him, your arms resting against his shoulders as you started to bounce on him, his cock going inside and out with such a lewd sound.

Killer's hands gripped your hips tightly, lifting you onto him easier than if you were doing it alone. "Fuck..." He groaned, feeling your fleshy walls tighten around him, warmth over flooding his entire being.

You felt him push against the spot that nearly induced you into a deep unwanted sleep, letting out a loud moan, unable to form words to tell him to keep hitting that spot.

He knew what angle to go out now, abusing your wet walls with every snap of his hips. He moved his hand lower to circle your clit slowly, hearing you give a wanton whisper of his name fuelled his need to make you finish around him.

You felt your leg twitch as you felt your inevitable release creep up on you. Your moans and whimpers grew to a higher pitch, with a raise of your hips, Killer met your lips against his once again, you never growing tired of the feeling. One more deep thrust inside of you, and you couldn't take it, accidentally screaming into Killer's open lips, you separated from his mouth and whimpered again as you came around him, your arousal dripping down onto his erection and onto the both of your thighs.

He continued to lazily drill into you, filling you to the brim until he was satisfied. He bit his lip as you tightened onto him harshly, almost like not wanting to let go. You moaned his name, feeling sensitive with every move.

"So fucking good." He whispered to himself, getting lost in your soft insides. He too felt release coming sooner than he thought. You were just so good around him, smaller than him and still able to take him better than initially thought.

A few more thrusts and he pulled out, grunting softly as he came on your stomach, thick white ropes of his sticky seed on your naked body.

He got up to bring you a towel, finally feeling the after effects on him, collapsing onto the bed beside you gently. You smiled, your lipstick was slightly smeared and your hair was tousled messily. You cleaned yourself up and laid next to him, locking lips again softly, feeling him being so gentle with you made you feel like you could take him again right then and there.

His eyes were on yours after you backed up from the kiss, a smile on your face as you closed your eyes.

"I could get used to this."

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #killer #one piece killer #eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #fanfic #smut

358 notes · View notes

starsstruck · 4 years ago

Text

cloudbusting; part four.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. horoscope readings, mandarin oranges, and star-gazing strolls.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 13k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for being patient with me for this chapter, i hope everything turned out okay ! a big huge thank you to the amazing tina @sunflowers-styles for helping me out and being the best beta ily ❤️❤️ as always let me know what you think and please share if you can ! i love to hear everyone's thoughts and comments <3 happy reading !

Sat comfortably on Mae’s couch, you were taking a big bite of the hummus covered carrot that you had just grabbed.

“I have some frozen perogies!”

Mae’s voice floated from the kitchen, both of your laziness to make a proper dinner was about to be satisfied with hummus and snacks before Mae started digging through her fridge.

“That sounds perfect!” You called back, reaching over her coffee table for another carrot. You could hear her shuffling through the kitchen, reappearing by the couch with a box of herb flavoured crackers in hand.

“I’ll put them on later,” she hummed, seating herself next to you while turning down the volume of the Fiona Apple that was playing through the speaker. “Don’t feel like cooking just yet.”

“How was the weekend away?”

Mae had just come back from a two-night stay with her partner’s parents, at their place out in Rochester. “It was good – honestly it was pretty nice to completely get away from everything, even if it was for a bit, and even if it was with Robin’s parents.”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded, unable to help yourself as you kept reaching for more crackers. “It’s good you got to relax for a bit.”

“Work has been far too stressful lately,” Mae nodded. “Aren’t you getting some time off soon as well?”

You rolled your eyes, waiting until you finished chewing your carrot until you spoke. “I guess. It’s not really going to be relaxing for me though.”

She shot you a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be okay – if things get too bad tell me, and I’ll come over with some kind of emergency.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed, not wanting to think about the reason you were going to be taking some time off work.

“Don’t think about that just yet,” Mae told you, a smile lining her lips. “How’s work going otherwise? Oh! Anything new with the painter boy?”

You bit your lips together, watching the bowl of homemade hummus as if it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. You knew Mae could read you well, and you knew that as soon as you averted your gaze that she’d be onto something.

“Something did happen?” She repeated the question, voice rising in excitement as you tried to hold back your little smirk.

“He ate me out on the floor of his apartment.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Mae sprang up, back straightening out as she turned to fully face you. “Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he was even going to make a move on you.”

“Well…” you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “He did.”

It had been three days since you last saw Harry. You had your usual two days off, coming back to work just this Saturday morning.

After the little distraction from your painting session, you had pulled your dress back over your knees. And with starry eyes and warm cheeks, you sat up with legs pressed to his and your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

He had tugged you closer to him until you were practically sitting on his lap, muttering near nonsense against your mouth. “You’re unreal, you know that?” and “Sound so good saying my name like that, could listen to you for hours.”

Just the mere thought brought butterflies to your stomach; which was something you thought only happened to protagonists in romance novels.

You could still feel his warm breath against your skin and the sweet nothings he had kissed onto your lips.

“Was he good?”

Mae really didn’t need to ask; she could tell by the look on your face. You nodded, confirming her suspicion with a smile bit between your teeth. “Really good.”

“I love that,” she chuckled lightly. “Anything else happen? And wait, when exactly did this happen?”

“Few days ago – I went over to his to do some painting with him. I actually ran into him last weekend when I was out which was when he first kissed me.”

“What? You never told me that.” She mocked a pout, not actually upset with you.

“I haven’t seen you!” You laughed, always favouring to tell her things in person rather than on the phone or through text.

“I suppose…” she laughed. “Have you seen him since?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean it was only three days ago.”

“Do you have plans to see him again?”

Again, you shook your head. “No – I don’t know. I realized I don’t even have his number or anything, I usually just see him at my work.”

“You could always DM him,” Mae nodded, reminding you of the time you both had spent scrolling through his Instagram.

“That’s true,” you bit at your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wants or anything.”

You fell quiet for a second, still gnawing at your lip. When you thought about it, you really only ever did see him at your work and other than his art practice and what kind of coffee he liked to drink, you didn’t know that much about him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“No,” you again shook your head. “He said that we didn’t have to do anything more if I didn’t want to – honestly I would’ve returned the favour but things just didn’t really go that way.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

The wheels in your head were spinning. “Maybe he just wants something physical, I don’t know…”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Don’t jump the gun. By the sound of everything I kind of doubt that, he didn’t even get off.”

“I mean, is that weird? Maybe he does that – like in Sex and the City.”

Mae let out a loud laugh. “Life is not like Sex and the City, stop comparing yourself to that shitty show. Also, what does it have to do with anything?”

“That’s a plot,” you nodded, hating yourself for remembering all the awful plot points from the 90s TV show. “Charlotte dates this guy who’s like, notorious for going down on women and wants nothing else from a relationship.”

Mae raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” shaking your head, a small furrow in your brow as you actually couldn’t remember how the episode had ended. “It wasn’t bad – but it wasn’t good. That’s all he did – he wasn’t a good guy or something, I don’t remember. He only was in the one episode.”

Mae laughed. “Babe you’ve got to stop watching that show.”

“It’s entertaining,” you shrugged, fully knowing Mae also loved to indulge in the guilty pleasure with you.

“What does this have to do with Harry – your Harry?” Mae made the distinction, as if you would have only thought about Harry Goldenblatt, Charlotte’s second husband of the show.

“I don’t remember,” you muttered, bottom lip still between your teeth as you couldn’t for the life of you remember why it was bad that Charlotte dated a guy that only wanted to eat her out.

Snapping yourself out from the mess in your mind, you shook your head. “Anyway, sorry. Things are good, I’m just overthinking.”

Mae was quiet for a second. “Do you like him?”

You paused, already knowing your answer but being slightly afraid of it. “I think I do.”

It was two days later when you saw Harry again. With your usual Monday opening shift, the slow morning had you leaning against the counter flipping through the daily newspaper as you found yourself with not much else to do.

Playing with the paper straw that was in your third coffee of the day, you blindly brought it up to your mouth just as you heard someone walk through the door.

An older man with a red baseball cap shuffled through the propped open door, giving you a two-finger wave as he walked over to the counter.

“Morning,” he chirped, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter as you went to grab his morning muffin. “Nice day out, isn’t it?”

One pet peeve you had about your job, was the weather talk that every patron seemed to insist on having. They all loved to chat about the bright sun outside while you were stuck working inside. “Beautiful day.”

Grabbing the bill from the counter, your eyes flitted back to the front door as you were counting out the customer’s change. A familiar silhouette of someone else walking through the door had caught your attention, eyes widening a bit when you realized it was Harry who had just come in.

He had his usual canvas bag over his shoulder, light wash blue jeans and a white shirt with some kind of graphic you couldn’t see on it.

Feeling your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, you turned your attention back to the regular (who’s name you couldn’t remember, Bill or something) with the red cap and handed him his change.

Shooting Harry one more look, forcing the corners of your lips not to open in a wide smile while you moved to prepare a small americano.

As you watched the espresso pour into the mug, you willed your body not to flush at even being in the same room as Harry. You felt like you were thirteen, with a silly crush on a boy you’d only ever spoken to once. Except that this was much more real than a small crush.

You had never really felt this way with anyone before.

“Small americano,” you spoke not too loudly in the near empty café, your voice easily carrying over the sound of Françoise Hardy’s Voilà.

The red capped regular grabbed his coffee, pouring a generous amount of cream in it with a small thank you before he headed to his table near a window, ready for his breakfast with his book.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Harry having placed his things at his usual table and was tapping away on his phone. Cleaning out the portafilter, you wiped off the counter before deciding to head back to your coffee and newspaper.

It was not even a minute later that you felt a presence loom from the other side of the counter.

“Morning,” Harry’s voice was a quiet rasp, clearing his throat as you shot him a glance.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Hi,” you hummed, willing yourself to stop your flush at the memory of the last time you saw him. Hand reaching out for your no longer iced coffee, straw between your lips as you looked up at him again. “What’s your sign?”

Harry’s brow furrowed, a twitch of a smile at his mouth. “What?”

You motioned to the open newspaper in front of you on the counter. “Your sun sign – I’m reading horoscopes.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m an Aquarius. Are you reading all of them?”

You nodded with your own little laugh. “I like to compare them, plus I’m a bit bored. So,” your eyes skimmed over the newsprint. “An Aquarius hm?”

“Is that bad?”

You only hummed, finding it on the page and pausing before reading his daily horoscope to him. “Under today’s amorous skies, sometimes less is more. Resist the urge to come on too strong to a new romantic prospect. A star-gazing stroll through nature could be the perfect way to add a dash or romance to your evening. And who knows? Your nighttime adventure could even bring artistic inspo.”

A few seconds of silence washed over the two of you. Harry had his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to help the nervous twist in his stomach. The horoscope was just a bit too accurate, especially with who was reading it to him.

“That’s – that’s something.” He said after a moment. The bright sun made the little pink blush on his cheeks obvious. He cleared his throat, looking to change the subject. “What’s yours say?”

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice, a bit of a filler horoscope if you ask me.” You sighed, searching for your sign on the page even though you’d just read it not long ago. “Today is all about adventure. Today’s thrill-seeking skies get your engines revving. Expand your horizons, whether you embark on a cross country road trip or rent a cabin in the woods. It’s all about a change in scenery and spiritual balance.”

“Sounds like you need to seek some thrill.” Harry laughed, the words you had read to him about his own horoscope still stuck in his head.

“I guess I do,” you bit back a smile, closing the paper. “Did you only come in for readings today? Or maybe a coffee too?”

“So many reasons I came in today,” he shot you a smile, almost a nervous one.

“Well then,” you hummed, pushing yourself away from the counter to go start preparing a coffee for him. “Let me grab you a drink.”

He followed you, from the other side of the counter, to the espresso machine. After tamping the grounds and waiting for the shot, you placed a hand on your shoulder as you circled your opposite arm, feeling the ever growing knot under your skin.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smiled lightly. “It’s just my shoulder – I call it barista shoulder. Not everyone gets it, I think it depends on the way you tamp the espresso.”

You saw the confusion on his face.

“Tamping – it’s when you use this,” you reached over to grab the heavy tool used to press down grounds. “I honestly don’t know what it’s called - I think it’s just called a tamper? Anyway, you press down the grounds to form this kind of espresso puck.”

You mimicked the motion, twisting your body. “You need to use a bit of force so I got into the habit of using my entire side to push it down. Some people press just in the wrist or their arm. My old boss had the same issue as me – after years of the repetitive motion it kind of fucks with your whole side; your arm, shoulder, ribs, everything.”

“Your ribs?”

You quickly stopped the shot that was still pouring, having nearly forgotten about it.

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly with a sheepish smile. “I went to see a physio for it, I have two ribs that are a bit dislocated.”

“What?! You have dislocated ribs?!” Harry looked a bit scared.

“Partially,” you corrected, as if it made a big difference.

“Does it hurt?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. “I try and stretch it out often, I even got acupuncture for it once. It’s more of a dull pain.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, a small shake to his head. “Dangerous work you do here.”

You only laughed, scooping out some ice from the machine and placing a few cubs into the glass cup, some espresso splashing onto your hand.

Placing the cup on the counter, you nudged it across in his direction. “For you.”

“Thank you,” his fingers reached for it, before sliding it a few inches before stopping.

“Oh!” He disappeared for a moment, quickly walking to his table before reappearing in front of you, all in the few seconds the espresso had been pouring for. “Brought these for you.”

He had two mandarin oranges in his hand, holding them out in your direction before placing them on the counter between the two of you.

You were so endeared you wanted to throw them at his head.

“I remembered how you said you usually forget to eat in the morning – actually I don’t even know if you like oranges. You don’t have to – well anyway they’re there for you if you want them.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, warming at the small action. You did in fact enjoy oranges; you loved the smell of them as well. “I love mandarin oranges”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, done with his rambling. “Love the colour too – actually I like the colour tangerine even better,” he smirked lightly, apparently not done with his rambling. “But I only had mandarin oranges.”

“Any citrus fruit really is divine,” you giggled, grabbing one in each hand.

Harry saw you disappear behind the espresso machine for a brief second, only the top of your head visible between the mugs, before you turned back towards him while wiping your hands on your jeans.

He held the small glass between his fingers, mouth dropping open to speak but nothing came out when both your attentions turned to see a family waiting for you to take their order.

You only shot him a little smile, grabbing the pen from your back pocket and moved to take their order.

Harry went to go take his seat, pulling out his usual workbook that was slowly but surely filling up with page after page of colourful sketches.

He thought over the words you had read out to him about his horoscope. He never was one to take that in a serious manner, quite frankly not knowing a lot about astrology at all. But he took it as a sign since you specifically were the one reading it out to him.

Finding himself sketching small drawings of stars and the reflection of the sky on the water, unable to help but momentarily flick his eyes up to the front counter every so often, where you would often be found standing.

He watched the way you asked a man about the book he was reading, the way the customer was so excited to share it with you. You had that effect on a lot of patrons, he noticed. You made them feel comfortable and welcomed in the little café.

With his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered even when you weren’t directly interacting with him.

Continuing with your separate tasks in the café for the next hour or so, as Harry didn’t want to bug you when a small line up never seemed to go away.

Walking up to the front after that line up finally did subside, empty glass in hand that he placed in the dirty dish bin, before he peered around the café as he couldn’t see you.

He finally did find you in the back room, one leg bent and knee resting on the stool. In one hand you had your phone held in front of you, attention drawn towards it. In your other hand you were holding a few orange slices, mindlessly chewing on them.

After watching you for a second longer, he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb any peace you had settled into.

You blinked while you turned your head, a slice of mandarin orange just placed into your mouth as you put your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Oh, hey sorry,” you placed your foot on the ground, orange on the table as you walked over to the doorframe. He could smell the orange on you as you neared him. “Just taking advantage of the lull.”

“No of course, didn’t mean to bug you –”

“– just wanted to ask,” he paused, leaning his hip against the wall next to him. He was only slightly intruding in on the space that was technically just for the workers, watching as you rested you back against the doorframe behind you with a few mandarin orange slices still in hand. “Are you doing anything Wednesday night?”

It was your turn to pause, eyes leaving his for a second as you chewed on your orange slice. “I close – otherwise I don’t think so, why?”

“There’s an opening show, my friend has a whole series in it. It’s at the same gallery that we work at sometimes, it’s just a tiny show but – well I’d love it if you came with me.”

Your eyes fell to his again. He could see a smile starting to grow on your mouth, corner of your lip between teeth. “What time is it at?”

“Starts at eight, but it goes until eleven. You don’t need to be there right at eight.”

You nodded, and although he felt like you were dragging this out a bit on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel a small pit of nerves grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” you hummed, voice quiet as your eyes darted over to the front counter to check for customers. “I’m usually done around quarter past seven – I can probably head over for eight-thirty? Give or take, depending on where it is.”

He knew he was smiling so wide that his cheeks were dimpling. “So, you can come?”

“I’d love to,” you returned his smile.

“Amazing,” the butterflies in his stomach flew away. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”

He watched you pat your back pocket, not finding the red pen that was usually placed there. Taking a second to check the back room, reappearing with a little scrap of paper and a pen.

He scribbled down the information you need, watching you fold up the little piece of paper and place it in your back pocket along with the pen.

“I have to head over a bit earlier, moral support and all, but I can meet you there?” Harry asked.

“Sounds good,” you hummed, excitement growing at the idea of spending more time with Harry outside of the café.

“I have to head out soon,” he spoke, “but I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, lips together as he bid you a little goodbye. Just as you were debating about if you should hug him, or say anything else, a group came in waiting to be served. As always, you were interrupted by other patrons. “See you Wednesday!”

The following two days flew by. That Wednesday evening, you were giddy as you closed, rushing through all your duties.

Closing with Saya took no time at all, and soon you were walking with a fast pace in your step to head back home. You knew you actually had plenty of time to get ready, but you were taking your sweet time and wanted the process to be relaxing rather than stressful.

You didn’t really know what one wore to a gallery opening. It was a small show; that was all Harry had really said. It’d probably be casual, so you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look too out of place.

After washing your face, you were throwing clothes around your room as you searched for what to change into. It was then you realized that Harry had only really seen you in clothes you wore to work. It wasn’t that you dressed poorly at work, in fact you liked to think you had quite a nice, casual style, but you still felt like dressing up just a bit.

You finally settled on a dark navy dress that had orange seams embroidered up the sides and around the hem. It was the kind of dress that would look good on anyone, that fit and clung to every dip and slope of your body.

Grabbing a nearly sheer black blouse to throw over your shoulders, slipping on your trusty white sneakers, hoping that you were walking on the line between casual and formal.

With a little beaded bag over your shoulder with everything you’d need for the night, you checked the time once more before heading out the door.

It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would to make it out the door, and finally you were double checking the address on your phone before being met with the red sign over the gallery and the glass double doors.

Smiling at the man dressed in a bright red blazer who stamped your hand, you walked through the open doored entrance. You immediately felt a tad out of place, seeing everyone chatting and talking and drinking and laughing – all together.

You let your eyes skim over the space, taking in the gallery. It was fairly large, considering Harry had described it as “just a tiny show”. The room was big and open, and there seemed to be another room that opened up around a curved wall.

Gaze jumping from person to person, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit out of place. Tentatively walking through the gallery, deciding to simply make your way around and hope to find Harry along the way.

It was when you were looking at a big dark painting, one that had different strokes of grays and browns across a large canvas, that a familiar voice spoke quietly to your left.

“Happy to see you made it.”

Turning around to see Harry, not realizing how close he had come up behind you. You had to take a little step back, the corner of your lips perking up as you saw his mouth already in a wide smile. He was wearing wide black trousers with a fitted simple black shirt, and orange converse sneakers.

“Sorry I’m late,” you spoke softly as he stood close to you. “Had a bit of an outfit crisis.”

Not moving his feet, he leaned his body closer to yours until the sleeve of his shirt brushed your arm. His shoulder bumping yours, he slid a hand around your waist so that it rested on the small of your back.

With a light pressure against your dress, he drew you in closer so your side was pressed against his. Feeling a puff of air as he exhaled hit the side of your neck, his head lightly dipped down until his lips neared your ear.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. You shivered under his touch, even in his warm embrace. Eyes darting around you, feeling a bit lost just in the moment the both of you had shared. You felt a quick kiss pressed to your temple, before his face retreated from yours.

You could feel heat spread across your chest along with a little flutter in your stomach that somehow made you even warmer. Momentarily not knowing what to say, you faced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered over the fabric of your dress for a moment longer, before it fell to his side along with a little step away from you. Although with your shoulder still against his, you remained close to him as you both turned back to the painting that you had been observing.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry’s voice was low in your ear.

You opened your mouth, not really knowing how to tell him that you didn’t like it one bit. “It’s very… beige.”

“I agree,” he hummed. A touch of his fingertips on your arm pulled your eyes away from the art, arm jumping just the slightest at the contact. With a loose grip of his fingers around your wrist, he was soon tugging you by the arm across the floor of the gallery. “I’ll show you the good stuff,” he said, keeping his voice low.

He pulled you around the curved corner, into the second part of the gallery. You immediately noticed the lights on this side were a bit dimmer, a warmer glow to them rather than a harsher white light.

“All these in here are done by my friend, Yanis.” He hummed, stopping in front of one of the large paintings on the wall with a light drop of your arm from his hand.

“I helped out with a few, but really it's all him.”

“You helped out with some?” You turned to catch a glance at Harry.

He nodded. “Here and there – nothing that big. He just needed a hand.”

“That’s sweet,” you hummed. You liked that, them helping each other out with their paintings. It was just all so uplifting and supportive.

Just as Harry’s mouth opened to speak, his name was called by a deep and unfamiliar voice to you. You both turned, seeing a shorter man with black curly hair in a bun approach the both of you.

“We were just talking about you,” the man spoke towards Harry, his eyes pausing on you for a moment before he turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Your name left Harry’s lips – introducing you to his friend.

“I’m Yanis. So, you’re the famous barista Harry’s been telling me about?”

You smiled at his words, eyes flicking to where Harry stood next to you and watched the pink tint the tip of his ears. “Famous?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Only famous one here is you, Yanis. The show looks like a big hit.”

You didn’t miss how quickly he changed the subject, but you turned back to Yanis. “It really does look incredible. I haven’t seen everything yet but I already like what I see.”

You mentally cringed, still feeling like a bit of an idiot whenever you tired to compliment art. You really needed to learn the right things to say.

Just as you were about to try and say something else, two more people joined Harry’s friend on either side of him.

“There you are!” A tall dark-haired woman spoke towards Harry. She was wearing a red shirt that matched her long skirt, with platform shoes and an array of necklaces. “I was worried you had left.”

“Just showing my friend around,” Harry spoke your name smoothly. You didn’t dwell on the way he had called you his friend, but it also didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” she turned her attention to you, while Yanis and the other man seemed to begin a new conversation. “Sorry, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled in her direction. You saw her give your appearance a quick once over, and you especially saw the way her full attention turned back to Harry.

“Everything looks so great,” she spoke towards him.

“It’s all this guy.” Harry let his hand fall onto his friend's shoulder, giving it a little pat. “We were just starting to look around actually, so I’ll catch up with you lot in a bit.”

In a quick move, Harry’s hand was brushing against your lower back, and he was guiding you towards the wall on the opposite end. You felt his fingers bunch lightly in the thin fabric of your blouse, side pressing lightly against yours.

“Sorry –” he muttered, leaning a bit closer to you as the both of you stopped in front of a painting across from where you had been previously standing. There was a sea of red and pink mountains, along with a bright blue skin and big yellow sun. “Knew we could get stuck there for a while – wanted you to see everything first.”

You only hummed in response, a small nod in your head as you kept your eyes forward. Although you did find yourself so drawn to the art on the wall, you couldn’t help but let your mind spin and spin around until the words were falling from your mouth.

“Rory,” you murmured, bottom lip between your teeth, “she has a thing for you, no?”

You could hear Harry pause from next to you, “I – yeah. Well, no – we used to date.”

Only nodding, you kept your eyes forward although you knew Harry was burning holes into the side of your face.

“We still kind of run in the same circle – it ended a long time ago I didn’t –”

He stopped rambling when you turned to face him. “It’s okay,” you forced a little laugh to your voice. “I was just wondering.”

Harry fell quiet again, as you turned back to the paintings on the wall in front of you. “I’m really happy you came with me,” he whispered, lips nearing your ear after a moment. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

You turned your head around, glancing at him over your shoulder. He didn’t move away from you, hand on your back giving your hip a little squeeze before slipping away from your body. He hit your hand with his, letting his hand fall to his side.

The words he spoke were swimming through your head, having you bite your lips together to fight off a wide smile. Just the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Okay,” you whispered, lips clamped together as you turned back around.

You spent the next few hours walking around, looking at everything, chatting with Harry’s friends. You had gotten along well with Yanis, he had talked at length about the series that was being exhibited and you were honestly in awe of everyone’s talent and creativity.

It was about half past ten and you were just heading back from a quick trip to the restroom, when your name being spoken had you looking around to see who it was.

Rory was slightly towering over you as she neared you, speaking your name again to grab your attention. “Haven’t gotten the chance to chat with you, how are you liking the show?”

Trying your best to hide the shock from your face, you sent her a smile as she stopped next to you. “I really like it – haven’t been to too many shows if I’m being honest, but this is for sure one of the best I’ve been too.”

“Yeah, Yanis really did amazing with everything – Harry too.”

You only nodded, not too sure what to respond in the moment. She kept speaking. “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

The question took you a bit by surprise, but at the same time didn’t shock you all that much. “Oh, we’re not –”

You cut yourself off, and she took the moment to speak again. “Sorry I don’t mean to put you on the spot, we’re all just a bit nosy about Harry’s life sometimes.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed slightly on her. “It’s no problem,” you shot her a small smile.

“Do you make art as well?” She changed the subject.

“No,” you caught Harry’s eye from across the floor of the gallery, “God no, I can barely take a decent picture. What about you?”

“Oh, sorry I just kind of assumed! But yes, I have my own practice. Mostly installation, plus some two-dimensional work as well as some performances here and there.”

Again, you wished you fully understood everything that was being discussed. “That’s so cool,” was all you said.

“Thank you,” she smiled down at you. “What do you do for work?”

“I uhm –” feeling somehow small for the words you were about to speak and a small pit of anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. “I work in a café.”

“She manages a café,” Harry’s voice surprised you slightly as it was suddenly heard from next to you. You turned, seeing him take a few more steps towards you and stopped when he was right next to you, facing Rory.

He was surprised to see the two of you speaking in the first place, a maybe the slightest bit worried when he saw the way you were slightly recoiling away from her.

“Oh nice!” She seemed a bit surprised from Harry’s arrival as well. “Sorry,” she paused, her eyes flitting over to somewhere behind you. “I just saw a friend I wanted to chat with before she leaves – it was nice meeting you!”

And then she was off.

You were quiet for a second, as you felt Harry’s hand brush over your middle. You barely registered the movement, bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a bit lost in your head – just the slightest offput from the conversation you had just had.

“Are you enjoying yourself?"

Harry’s voice pulled your attention away from your thoughts, shooting him a quick glance as his words registered. You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw his eyes never leave yours. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You fully turned to face him, standing in front of him. He saw your gaze flick between his, curious look in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he paused. Unable to help his eyes from falling down to your mouth, he watched the way the lightly shining lips were curved in a smile. “I just remembered something I read in a horoscope. And I was thinking … fancy a star-gazing stroll?”

It was your turn to pause, fully turning on your feet until you were standing directly in front of him. He could tell that you were trying to keep the smile from growing on your lips, but the gleam in your eyes immediately gave you away.

“I think I read something about that somewhere too,” was all you said, speaking quietly enough for just the two of you. The teasing tone of your voice, paired with the way your eyes seemed to glow more with every passing second sent a warmth straight through Harry’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out what could only be called a giggle. “Yeah, it is.”

Harry didn’t try to hide his giddiness a single bit and sent a short nod towards you before he was again leading you through the gallery. With a quick stop by Yanis to give him a hug and congratulate him, and a wave on your part before he was pulling you out of the gallery.

He was a few steps in front of you, holding the glass door open as you stepped out next to him. This time, he didn’t try and hide the way his eyes fell to eye your outfit, eyelids dropping slightly with a smirk on his lips.

“Christ,” he muttered, joining you by your side. He watched the way you obviously noticed his stare, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “You really do look stunning.”

“You already said that,” you hummed.

“Needed to be said again,” he couldn’t help but brush his fingertips over the raised orange embroidery that went up your side. “Also, I don’t know if you noticed sunshine, but we match.”

Sunshine.

You glanced down his outfit from the corner of your eye. The dark hues of both outfits along with a splash of orange looked like you guys had almost planned it. “I did notice, actually.”

“I think that’s quite sexy of us.”

You laughed, following Harry along the sidewalk.

The air outside had cooled down a bit, still warm enough that you were perfectly content in what you were wearing but not so hot that your skin felt sticky.

Harry led the way through the emptying streets, walking so close that it seemed every other step his hand hit yours. He really felt like he had been flirting with the idea of grabbing your hand for what, maybe a week now? He just wanted to grab you, hold you close.

Hell, he had been a lot closer to you than that before.

Walking through a darkened alleyway to take a quick short cut, you shuffled even closer to him. You kept your eyes focused on your surroundings out of habit, even if you were trusting where Harry was bringing you.

It was then that when his hand hit yours, it didn’t move away like it usually did and instead his pinky finger caught your own and soon he was lacing every last one of his fingertips with yours until your palms kissed.

Harry kept his gaze forward, but from the corner of his eye he saw you shoot your newly intertwined hands a quick look. While revelling in the way that your palm felt in his, and in the way that every finger laced with his seemed to cause a tiny jolt to go straight through his body, he nearly missed the way you pulled yourself even closer into him.

By the time the water was invading your sight, after about fifteen minutes or so of walking in peaceful silence, Harry noticed the way you were walking so close to him your head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He basked in the way you seemed to draw into him as much as he did you, and the way that you urged to be close to him and feel yourself against him just as much. The thought itself sent a new wave of butterflies straight through his stomach, clouding his mind as his pace slowed near the water.

Clearing his throat, he turned to catch a glance at you. “I remember you telling me how you like to walk along the river, but you didn’t get to do it that often.”

Smiling softly at the memory of the conversation the two of you shared after running into each other at the grocery store; you thought of that as the first time you really felt captivated by Harry.

“Is this kind of what you meant?” He asked.

You glanced around, seeing a wooden boardwalk start not too far off. “Not quite.”

Turning around and tugging him by the hand, following the expanse of the water until your shoes were walking over wooden boards that hovered above the river.

Your pace slowed even more, your hand fell from his grip as you glanced around and took in the sights around you. It was a relatively calm night out, no harsh winds upsetting the murky waters. The lights ended by the street, only a soft hue for the two of you as the boats docked out on the water were barely in sight.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out near you – then realizing that you had no idea what time it was, something that wasn’t often the case and something that you enjoyed a great deal.

The moon was high and bright in the sky, with the few stars that could be seen dusting the sky. It was for sure a star-gazing stroll, just as Harry promised.

“Looks like a painting,” you spoke from next to him, gaze out over the moving surface of the water.

Nearing the railing, the two of you took slow steps along the wooden boards. Harry laughed softly from next to you, the sound carrying in the empty space.

“Have you always been into painting?” You asked, eyes trained on the wood in front of you.

Harry hummed next to you. “I think so, yeah. I guess you could say I was drawn to the arts since I was young, I remember my mum bought me a little painting kit when I was like seven or eight.”

You nodded as he continued to speak. “Started a bit more seriously through school, like getting into techniques and stuff. But I never thought I would ever try and make a career out of it or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Harry paused, hand pushing through his hair. “I actually studied marketing for a bit, thought I would go into business or something like that.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped past your lips, surprised by the news. “I’m sorry but I can’t picture you as a business student.”

“Yeah,” his cheeks dimpled. “Neither can I. Left after nearly two years. Then I started taking a few painting courses at a local art store and I’ve been doing just that ever since.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “And your family they were – I mean you made everything work out for you?”

He nodded again. “Obviously I kept a job for a while, I was actually working at that little art shop for a few years too. My family was okay with it – my mum especially was always supportive. I remember when I told her I wanted to leave school to work on art she said she couldn’t imagine me doing anything else.”

“I love that,” you hummed, biting your lips together. A small part of you wished that you had that kind of unconditional support. But you kept your lips together and pushed the thoughts from your head, not wanting to bring down the mood.

“I send her some of my paintings; take them off the frame and roll them up for her. Her and my sister flew out and came to my first show over here – even though I only had two works in it.”

Mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for having correctly assumed Harry couldn’t have been an only child with the way he acted. You really did love when your hunch about someone was proven right.

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled at him. “You must miss them.”

“I do, yeah.” He hummed, catching your eyes with his for a second. “But I am glad to have moved out here. I felt like it could be temporary – I would love to live in London someday but I’m really happy to be here.”

Only nodding, you felt yourself getting lost in your own thoughts for a brief second before Harry pulled you back out of them. “What about you, you miss home much?”

Shrugging, you didn’t know what to say. “I mean a bit, in the way that anyone gets nostalgic. But,” you took a breath.

“I know this sounds terrible but honestly I don’t. It’s… exhausting to be home. I moved further away for school for a reason.”

You didn’t know what else to say, hoping that Harry would jump in with something else. You shot him a quick look, seeing his eyes intent on yours as he listened and waited for you too keep speaking.

“That’s not terrible,” he spoke quietly, after a few more seconds in silence.

You hummed, not sure what to say. Walking in silence for a few more moments and taking another breath before you chose to speak again. “My parents live hours away from each other now anyway, so I feel like there’s not really a home to go back to, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was soft.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy to have moved away – happy to be here too.”

Harry remained quiet, giving you the chance to go on if you wanted to. Although right now you really didn’t want to – you were having such a good evening and you didn’t want to bring any of that down by discussing your family.

Quietly walking side by side, with only the moon and the stars surrounding the both of you, Harry cleared his throat once more.

“So, what was it again that you like about this place?”

“Just the mood of it,” you shot him a glance. “Something about walking along the wood – I just really like it. And I like the smell too, I know it’s probably diesel and chemicals but it’s just oddly nostalgic for me for no real reason.”

“I see that,” Harry smiled. “So other than walking out here, what other small things make you happy?”

You were confused for a second, Harry further explaining himself after you didn’t answer.

“Just like, anything that could seem insignificant that you enjoy for whatever reason at all.”

“Oh,” you hummed, a small smile tugged at your lips at the question. You didn’t know why it made your heart soar that he was asking you about this – but it just did.

“This is really dumb,” you said after a moment. “But at work, I really like it when an older customer – they’re usually regulars – when they come in with their book and they get a coffee and a little cake or a treat and just sit there for hours.”

Pausing, not sure how to explain how you felt because right now it just sounded like any other interaction with a patron. “It's a happy-sad feeling – I don’t really know why. I love that coming into my café and having a chat with me is part of their routine, but there’s also something that just makes me feel the tiniest bit sad…”

Harry remained silent, letting you explain yourself. “It’s like, sometimes you watch a movie that has a happy ending, but you can’t help but feel the slightest bit melancholic, you know?”

Your eyes darted over to him, seeing him nod. “I know the feeling, yeah.”

Harry had never really thought about that before, never paying too close attention to the other patrons when he frequented your café. “You pay close attention to a lot of regulars, huh? I thought I was special.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as your shoulder bumped his.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” you teased, feeling his pace slow down, deciding to stop where you were. You leant up against the railing that kept you from the water.

“What about you?” You turned to him. “I know you said you didn’t want to share much about the paintings you're working on currently, but what’s something small that you like to pay attention to for your art?”

“I don’t want to bore you with every detail…” he started out, feeling like he had been speaking about his practice the entire time.

You shook your head. “I want to hear about your art – I like it.”

Harry slipped his lips between his teeth, head dipping down for a second as he felt his cheeks blush. “Well,” he started. “My current work is still very much in progress – not really ready for anyone to see or hear about it just yet.”

“But right now – or for the past year or so I’ve been really paying attention to moments between people.”

“Just … small touches or moments of intimacy, you know? Like seeing someone rest their head on someone else’s shoulder, seeing two people hug in a big crowd. Just small moments like that where you know that they’re in their own world.”

You were quiet, even after he was done speaking. Leaning your forearms against the wooden railing, feet kicking at nothing on the ground. You saw exactly what he explained – about the little touches of public, yet private, intimacy.

“I know what you mean,” you finally said, voice quiet as it carried over the space between the two of you. Harry has his back against the railing as he keeps his eyes on you.

After he realized you weren’t going to say anything else, he kept speaking. “It’s nice, you know? Seeing people wrapped up in their … love and adoration for each other like that.”

You hummed, his words swimming through your head. “Guess I never really thought about that –” cutting yourself off, before continuing even quieter, “– guess I haven’t really experienced it like that.”

Another wave of silence washed over you, before Harry turned in his place so that he could face you directly.

The reflection of the moon rippled in the water. “Have you ever been in love?”

His words caught you slightly off guard.

You had been in relationships, sure. You’d had partners tell you that they loved you, and maybe once or twice you returned the sentiment. But you didn’t really know what it meant.

“I –” you paused. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

You could just make out Harry’s expression. The lighting was sparse, but every little dip and curve on his features were clear as day, and his eyes held that little smile they often did.

“I know,” the words were too small puffs of air past your lips.

You held your breath in, before continuing. “I’ve always thought that I’d know, but I feel like I’ve never been in it in the way that you described. Not fully. I – I don’t know.”

The way he looked at you made your heart beat just a bit faster in your chest, so loud you were sure he must be able to hear it.

“It’s okay to not know,” he spoke so softly. You didn’t even realize you were leaning in closer to him until your knee bumped his.

“Have you?” You cleared your throat, the noise breaking through the otherwise quiet surrounding. “Have you ever been in love?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid of his answer.

“I think so, or,” Harry paused, a small furrow in his brow as his eyes were still intent on yours. “I thought so.”

This time, your heart stopped.

“Thought so?” Voice sounding a bit hoarse, you again found yourself afraid of his answer.

There was a small shrug in his shoulders. You couldn’t help but briefly think about Rory, about whether he was ever in love with her, but you shook the thought from your head.

“I guess… I guess I’ve been heartbroken before. I’ve loved, for sure. But I don’t know if I was really in love. If that makes sense.”

Maybe he really was just as confused as you were.

“I guess you don’t know until you’re really in it.” He had his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I guess you don’t,” you repeated.

What Harry wanted to tell you, was that he had never felt the way he did when he was with you.

He also didn’t know how to tell you – he really felt like he didn’t know anything at that moment either.

He was drawn to you from the first moment he had spoken to you, and found himself unable to ever get enough every time he saw you. It had been over a month and a half since he’d first walked into your café, since he’d first met you, and he couldn’t believe the way you made him swoon.

But he didn’t truly realize that, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

So instead, he reached forward so that his palm could rest under your jaw and stepped a tad closer to you. He saw you visibly leaning in to his touch, your eyelashes hitting the top of your cheeks for a brief moment with a slow blink.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he whispered, voice low as his knuckles brushed over your jaw.

You nearly sighed at his touch, butterflies in your stomach erupting once again when he spoke so softly. He always seemed to be able to grab such a strong hold on you – both physically and metaphorically – but all while treating you with the gentlest of touches. “Of course.”

“I really,” he paused with his own sigh. Hand on your jaw sliding over your skin, grabbing a light hold at the back of your neck. “I really like spending time with you like this.”

Only able to nod, almost having to look away from his intense gaze. There was nothing else to look at though, nothing else you wanted to look at.

“Me too.” The words were barely there, just a pass of air from the back of your throat.

You felt his other hand smooth over your spine, fingertips finding your waist as he seemed to be blindly tracing the raised orange embroidery on your dress. Further leaning into his touch, you knew your eyes were darting all around his face as you were unable to focus on just one thing.

His own eyes fell down once more to the curve of your lips, and you felt them fall parted with your tongue wetting them on instinct.

“Can I kiss you?”

Nearly wanting to giggle at the question, as he had done much more than kiss you in the past week, and since the question seemed to be just a little late, but a laugh was the last thing on your mind right then.

All you could do was nod in his grasp, your eyes never leaving his – not for one single second. After a heavy swallow and a raspy little “yes” leaving your mouth, you let your hands fall to his shoulders to embrace him closer.

He pulled you closer in a quick motion, hand on your back holding you tight. Your chest fell against his, head remaining upright with his thumb still under your jaw.

Lips pressing against yours lightly at first, like whispers of a kiss against your mouth. He pecked two, three, four kisses on your lips like that before you edged your jaw forward and let him fully capture your mouth.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears when he fully pressed his lips against yours, with just enough pressure and desire to make your head spin. A little gasp escaped the back of your throat when he grabbed hold of your bottom lip between his, a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Lips parted together, never able to get enough of the way he felt against you. Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. He grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him. Hot breath mixing together, he pushed your back against the railing behind you just a bit more so that his hips could press with yours.

His hand on your back had migrated, dancing over the curve of your bum before sliding around and giving your hip a sharp squeeze. It never rested in one place, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your body against his.

You returned his fervour, one hand smoothing over his neck until your fingertips were being pushed through his hair. Fist closing as you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a little groan from Harry before he was licking into you once more.

Minutes passed, you had no idea how long the two of you spent like that under the stars and the moon.

He pulled away, barely, for a breath with heavy eyelids trained on you. His forehead was a millimetre away, loose curls brushing over your skin and tip of his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I,” he sighed, voice sounding so close to you as your eyelids just barely opened. “I – you’re unreal.”

His voice rasped slightly, as if he had just been woken up. The way he murmured quietly against you had your head spinning, thinking about how he would sound moaning your name.

Just as he was moving in to capture your lips with his one more time, a quiet buzzing was heard from somewhere. It took you a moment to register that it was your phone that was sitting in your purse.

“I think that’s yours,” Harry chuckled quietly, air hitting your lips as he spoke.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry,” you pulled your arms away from him, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your bag. Pulling your phone out, you saw your brother's name flash across the screen.

You knew you should answer it, but you didn’t want to and he had already interrupted you. Declining the call with a text, telling him you couldn’t talk right now, you placed your phone back into your bag.

“Sorry about that,” you hummed, gazing back up at Harry.

“It’s not a problem,” he grinned down at you, a hand still wrapped around your waist. “It is getting late though, let me get you home, yeah?”

Waking up to a ringing phone wasn’t ideal. Especially early on your day off.

At first you thought it was your alarm, and you tried to snooze it. And then when it started ringing again, you slowly blinked yourself out of sleep to squint at the phone screen.

Realizing it was a call, realizing it was a call from your boss at seven in the morning, you sprang up.

“Hello?”

She spoke your name, seemingly relieved to hear you answering the phone. “I’m so sorry to be calling you, I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was groggy. “What’s up?”

“No one’s at the shop right now – no one’s opened.”

You jumped out of bed this time, double checking the clock on your phone to see it five minutes past seven. “What?!”

“I happened to check the cameras this morning, and no one is there. Do you think you could head over there to open?”

You let out a sigh, hearing the desperation in her voice. She was away at the moment, otherwise you knew she would do it herself. It was also lucky that she could check the security cameras from her phone, something you knew she did very rarely.

“It would just be for a bit; I can get a hold of someone else to finish off the rest of the shift.”

“Yeah I can go over,” you were already looking for your pants. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much,” she rushed through the phone. “Noah was supposed to open today I think, right? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him but not luck so far.”

After getting off the phone with your boss, you quickly pulled on jeans and a bra, a baggy shirt over the rest of your body before jumping to the washroom.

There had been moments where you had to get ready in a rush before, of course you had, it happened to everyone to sleep past their alarm. But the magic of the opening shift is that even if you were late to the beginning of the shift, it was always possible to get there before the café actually opened.

Today you didn’t have that pleasure, you would likely be arriving after half past seven at the earliest.

Mentally cursing Noah, you tried to the best with your hair you possibly could and roughly rubbed in some moisturizer into your skin before you were running out the door.

After a not so elegant speed walk down the street, you were unlocking the café doors and unfortunately leaving the door propped open for anyone to walk in.

And to your displeasure, people did walk in. You had a grumbling regular who was mad he couldn’t come in bright and early, you had a big family grabbing an early breakfast, you just had too many people asking you for things all while trying to open the café.

It was only after an hour that things settled a bit, that you were able to catch a breather and actually grab yourself a glass of water.

You were sat on the little stool in the back room, keeping your eye on the front counter in case anyone showed up. Updating Grace, your boss and owner of the café, on how everything was fine on your end and that you still hadn’t heard a peep from Noah who was the one supposed to open today.

It was just as you sent him one more text, that your name was heard from a familiar voice. You saw Harry poking his head through the doorway, both of your expressions mirroring the others in your surprise.

“Hey,” you sighed, running a hand over your hair, knowing you looked a bit a mess. Standing from the stool, you walked the short distance to the doorway as you leant up against it with your glass in hand.

“I thought you were off today?” He grinned dimples showing on his cheeks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just – didn’t expect it is all.”

“I am,” you couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in your tone. “No one came in to open this morning – I got called in.”

You saw his eyebrows fall to a small furrow. “Oh fuck. How does that happen, no one opening?”

Only shrugging your shoulders, you took another sip of your water. You couldn’t help but gently shut your eyes, feeling your exhaust slowly overcome you.

“I don’t know. Can’t get a hold of the person who was supposed to open. I mean I’m assuming that they’re just still sleeping or something.”

“That’s shitty, and on your day off too.”

“It’s okay,” you shot him a small smile. “At least I don’t have to work the full shift today, just opening and I should be off soon, someone else is coming in to finish the shift. Did you want to get a coffee?”

“Uhm – if you were taking a little break its okay, I don’t need to –”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Stop that, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“Just to go for today,” he spoke, as you were tamping the espresso grounds. Nodding as you grabbed a paper to go cup, placing it under the portafilter and pressing the button to begin the slow and steady pour of espresso.

“What do you have going on today?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the passing seconds of the espresso pour.

“I’m actually headed over to Yanis’ place – a few of us are working on a collaboration piece together.”

“That’s so cool,” you smiled, sliding the to-go cup over to him as he grabbed a lid from where they were on the counter.

“What about you?” He returned your grin. “Get some sleep after this impromptu morning shift and before another week of work?”

“Oh, I’m actually going to be off for the next week or so,” you spoke absentmindedly. “My brother is coming to stay with me.”

“That’ll be good,” Harry mused from across you, having never heard you speak about your brother.

You only sighed, his words not really registering. “I guess.”

Not wanting to think too much about the week you were going to have to spend with your brother, you cleaned out the portafilter and tried to change the subject. “What are you working on with everyone?”

Harry was quiet for a second, eyes intent on you before he cleared his throat and answered. “It's all Yanis’ idea – he wanted a big collaboration but really, he’s the brains behind everything. We’re just starting today so honestly I’m not really sure what will come of it.”

“That sounds like it’s gonna be good,” you grinned.

“I hope so –” he paused, checking his phone, “sorry I have to head out. But I hope your day gets better and I’ll see you soon!”

You waved as he left, only a few more minutes into you were able to leave the café.

You physically felt your shoulders drop when you saw Aleena walk through the door. She had been scheduled to work today already, just coming in a bit earlier to give you a big helping hand.

“Thank you so much,” was the first thing you said when you saw her. “You are the absolute best. I promise I’ll buy you a drink, or dinner.”

She laughed. “No need for that, really. Should be Noah buying both of us dinner.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head. “He really should be.”

She clocked in, and you waited a second before speaking again. “Is it okay if I head out now? I can stay and help if you need me to but –”

She cut you off. “Go, go. I know you have to go get your brother later today, and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now.”

You could kiss her. “Really, thank you so much.”

You were rushing out of the café after grabbing your bag. You wanted to shower as soon as you got home, hopefully having the time for a little nap before you had to go over to the airport to greet your brother.

Just as you were turning the corner away from the café, a familiar outfit across the street caught your attention. You recognized Harry, nearly amused to see him still so close to the café. Your pace slowed down slightly, you were considering catching his attention or maybe just yelling his name across the street as you didn’t really have time to stop and chat once again.

Although any idea you had fell out of your head when you saw two more people with him, getting a better view of them as you walked along your side of the street. You recognized one of those people to be Yanis, and after a small squint you realized who the other person was.

You kept walking, eyes flitting over to the group across the street a few more times before you turned another corner and away from them. You knew you had no reason to be upset, or not upset, annoyed that Harry was spending time with his ex.

He had mentioned that they both still ran in the same circles, but you didn’t imagine that meant hanging out just on the daily. Or maybe not the daily, in fact you had no idea how often they spent time together. He had never mentioned her to you before, and you tried not to feel overly annoyed because you knew you had no real right to.

This just wasn’t coming out to be a very good day for you.

Trying to push everything about Harry and Rory out of your mind, you rushed the rest of the way home as you were slightly dreading the fact that in a few hours you were going to have to head over and greet your brother at the airport.

The first day with your brother was okay.

You were never that close growing up, for no particular reason. It wasn’t until you grew older that you realized you wished you had a better relationship with him, that you wished you could be like those siblings on TV.

He tormented you, in the way that older brothers usually did, but there was never a good side to your relationship with him. It got to a point where you began to realize that you nearly resented people for how close they were with their siblings.

Ever since your parent’s divorce, the two of you somehow grew closer and further apart. Closer in the sense that now it truly was the two of you against them, but further apart because your lives were in such different places.

He always knew what he wanted to do in life, and he was currently doing well for himself. He had gotten married already, and was living in a nice apartment that was also close to both your parents, much closer than you were.

He was going to be spending three days with you, his idea. You knew it would be bad to say no, knowing deep down that you needed to maintain a relationship with him. You loved him – he was your brother but you didn’t necessarily want to spend three days with him.

You always came out of any interaction – even a phone call with him – exhausted and anxious about the state your life was in.

Since you were going to be taking some time off anyway, you decided to give yourself an extra two days off just so you can have some time for yourself and didn’t need to jump right back into work.

“How’s Sophie?” You asked your brother about his wife, as you unpacked some groceries you got after meeting him at the airport. They had gotten married nearly two years ago.

“We’re good, she’s good,” he seemed to pause, sitting in your recently deep cleaned kitchen.

“Yeah?” You probed further, noticing his sudden hesitation.

“She’s actually – she’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the knife you had just grabbed. “What?”

He nodded. “She’s due next March. We’re really excited.”

“Oh my God –” you muttered, still in the headspace where when you heard when you heard the word ‘pregnant’ it was usually followed by anxiety not joy, even if some of your friends from college had kids of their own as well.

“Congratulations,” you snapped out of it. “That’s – that’s great! Congratulations, I’m sure she’s really happy.”

“Yeah, she is. We both are.”

“That’s great,” you repeated, turning back around and busying yourself with starting to prepare dinner.

He was quiet for a second. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?”

You very rarely shared details of your personal life with your brother, unless specifically asked. And even then, it was all very vague.

“Uhm,” you didn’t know why you were pausing; you knew your answer. The question was simple, the answer was just as simple – but for some reason the reality seemed much more complicated.

But you really didn’t want to talk about that now, especially not with your brother. “No, not really.”

You only heard him hum from behind you, before he spoke again. “Oh. You know I was talking with mom – you know she was younger than you when she had me.”

Christ.

“I know,” you only muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset over his words.

“All I’m saying,” he could likely sense your annoyance. “Is that I know you’re having fun out here in the city and whatever, but you’re nearly thirty.”

You spun around, unable to hide your anger. “I’m not nearly thirty. I’m in my mid-twenties – and even if I was, so what? There’s no timeline I need to be following.”

“I’m just saying” he put up his hands in defense, as if you had been attacking him unprovoked.

You had to tell yourself to not continue down this path, he wouldn’t budge in what he was saying. “How’s work going?” He said instead.

Again, something else you didn’t feel too keen on discussing with him. “Fine.”

“If you wanted to get your foot into something else, I can probably help you with something at my company.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Seriously – even in the New York office I could help you out. You’d probably need to intern first –”

“I said it was fine,” you cut him off, feeling worn. “Thank you, but I’m okay with what I’m doing.”

Again, he only put his hands up as if he was doing nothing wrong. You willed yourself to not feel too angry over it, knowing that you were already mentally tired and if you kept speaking with him about this you might start crying – something he’d only use against you.

After a few much needed topic changes, dinner was ready and you were playing a show the both of you used to enjoy when you were in secondary school. You didn’t go to bed very late, making his bed on the couch before you headed off to sleep as well.

Only two more days, you told yourself. It would be fine – it was your brother and everything was going to be fine.

Settling yourself into bed, phone in hand as you tentatively typed in Harry’s username into Instagram. You found it quickly, seeing him having no new posts since the time you and Mae had looked over his page. Although, there was a little circle around his icon showing that he had a story.

Curiosity getting the best of you, knowing full well your own username would show up if he were to check who was looking at his story, you tapped on the icon.

Holding your thumb down on the single picture eyeing over the three accounts that were tagged in the story.

You paused when you read over a username that contained the name ‘Rory’.

So he had been spending the day with her.

You tapped on her username, watching the app take you to her account. It was a public page, with a pretty hefty following. You scrolled through rows of images, tapping on a few here and there to further inspect the posts. Most were about her art, some pictures of herself and her friends here and there but nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something woman.

Holy shit. You were about two years deep on her account, seeing pictures from a show she had in Berlin. You couldn’t help feel the slightest bit impressed.

Going over to her tagged photos, you scrolled a bit seeing mostly photos with friends and a few of what you figured were her art works.

The one that caught your eye, though, was a painting that seemed familiar to you for some reason.

Going over to the image, you realized why there was an air of familiarity to it. The picture was from Harry’s Instagram, a painting he had done of her back in early 2018.

His style had seemingly slightly evolved since then, but it was still very much him. The painting was of the side of her face, the setting around her not very defined so all the focus was on her profile. She was looking away, the side of her face painted in hues of gold and yellow that blended into her dark hair.

Green and yellow surrounded her, like she was outside during a sunset – it was a beautiful painting of her. The caption read “inspiration”.

You shrank back into bed.

The post was about two and a half years ago, it was in the past and you shouldn’t be overthinking it. But you felt small in comparison.

She had clearly been his muse, of some kind and the fact that he was still spending time with her just was sitting right with you.

You knew, a huge part of you knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You tried to think back to all the stomach fluttering and weak-kneed kisses he had given you, the way that every touch of his skin on yours felt so right.

You thought back to the other night, the nearly romantic conversation you had shared before he kissed any anxiety or fear out of you.

But still, a smaller but louder part of you was telling you that it didn’t mean as much as you originally thought it did.

The day seemed to be one thing after another, and just as you were about to shut off your phone and try not to cry because you knew it’d make you feel silly, your phone buzzed with a text.

Again, this day was just one thing after another. It was Grace, your boss, asking you to cover Noah’s shift tomorrow. He had taken the weekend off last minute, and his 9-3 tomorrow couldn’t be covered by anyone else.

Typing back an annoyed ‘yes’, this time you couldn’t help but feel truly upset. You were exhausted from work, honestly. You knew you would still have some time off, and Grace was so kind to you, but you were just. Tired.

#i would love to hear your thoughts and feedback ! <3 im honestly nervous abt this chap oops #thank you for reading ! <3333 #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic

351 notes · View notes

dirtyoatmeall · 4 years ago

Text

Badass (Bakugo x reader)

A/N: I have a like 4 WIPS and instead of finishing them I chugged this out. The ending is meh, I could make another part to this if you’d like! I hope you enjoy, please see warnings! Also this has spoilers for Bakugo’s hero name!!

Pairing: Pro hero!Bakugo x reader (gn pronouns I believe)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of attempted assault, swearing, fighting, blood mentions

You walked down the street minding your business. You had just gotten off of work, a grueling 9 hour shift, and you were more than ready to collapse in bed, order takeout and fall asleep watching TV. You were considering where to get food from when a heavy hand landed on your shoulder and tried to pull you into the alley. You had your headphones in, music playing loud enough to where you couldn’t hear around you. They pushed you against the wall roughly and you scowled at the man in front of you.

He reeked of alcohol and the disgusting smirk on his face made you shiver. His hand moved lower to your upper arm, tightening his grip. You could see his mouth moving but your headphones were still drowning out anything he was saying. His face was getting closer to yours, like he was going in for a kiss. You slammed your head forward, headbutting him, and he staggered backwards. You took this opportunity to stomp on his foot, and put your weight into your swing as you threw a right hook, glad you wore your chunky rings as you watched him fall. You took out your headphones, hearing his yells of pain as blood leaked from his nose. He called you various slurs and insults as you rolled your eyes and backed out of the alley, only to bump into someone.

You reeled around, about to throw another punch when the person gripped your wrist before it could make contact. You grimaced at the tight grip, taking a step back and tugging your wrist, trying to break free. “Woah there, how about you take a fucking breath?” Your eyes focused, taking in the person holding your grip.

It was obvious they were a pro hero, with the getup they had on. They looked familiar, probably high ranking, and they matched your scowl as you narrowed your eyes at them. They had spiky blonde hair, and red eyes that stood out against the black eyeliner and mask they adorned. You took a deep breath, and they released your wrist as they watched you exhale. “Wow, you really did a number on this guy.”

You turned toward the new voice, not realizing there was another pro hero. He was crouched next to your attacker, who was still holding his nose. “That- That bitch punched me, you need to arrest her!” You rolled your eyes at the man, “Oh yeah, because you definitely didn’t pull me into an alley and try to assault me. You just happened to push me against the wall and you just happened to try to kiss me was that it? You’re lucky I just broke your nose you fucking creep, you got skin and blood in my rings.” You say with disgust as you looked them over, it was gonna be a bitch to clean them out. The man called you another slur, and tried to stand up, only to fall on his ass again.

You laughed and went to step forward towards him when the pro-hero behind you laid a hand on your shoulder. “Alright, alright. Chargebolt, stay here with the piece of shit until the police come, I’ll walk her home.” The yellow-haired hero deflated slightly, pouting, but nodded nonetheless. You shook his hand off of your shoulder, “I don’t need you to walk me home, I can obviously take care of myself.” He rolled his eyes, following you as you started back towards your apartment. “Just accept the fucking offer princess, who doesn’t want the number 2 hero walking them home?” You looked over your shoulder at the hero, raising an eyebrow at the smirk on his face.

“You say it like it means something. I could care less if you’re the number 2 or number whatever, I still don’t need you walking me home. I have no idea who you are, so it’s basically having some random dude follow me.” You pull out your phone and look at the hero rankings. “Dynamight huh? Number 2 ranking and your patrolling here?” He scoffs and matches your pace, walking besides you as he grumbles. “I’m actually here because I’m partnering with another agency over some disappearances that have been occurring around here. So I will be walking you home, since who knows what kind of quirks these assholes have, rings won't do anything against that.” You rolled your eyes but kept quiet. He was right, there have been girls disappearing more often recently.

As the two of you walked you made small talk, you talked about your job, he talked about life as a top 3 hero, and your mutual interests. You soon arrived at your apartment building and you stopped in front of the door. “Well this is me, thanks for walking with me I guess. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He nods, fishing a card out of a pocket and handing it to you. You looked it over, it was simple, his name, a phone number and an address under it. On the back was another number scrawled in chicken scratch. You looked back up to the hero, eyebrows raised. “In case you get into any more trouble. The number and address are for my agency and the one on the back is my personal number.” He rolled his eyes when you smirked at the last part of his sentence, “It’s not for what you think fuckface, it’s for emergencies.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You drawl out as you watch a very faint blush settle over the hero’s cheeks. You said your goodbyes and you made your way into your apartment, cleaning your rings and heading to bed. Hoping you��d see the hero again.

You saw the pro hero 3 weeks later, on TV, standing next to a police officer as they discussed the case they just solved. They rescued 14 people from an abandoned factory, they had all disappeared within the last month. It didn’t say what or why they were taken but you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You switched off the TV and got ready to leave for work.

You walked home in silence, ready for a drink. You didn’t work a long shift, but it was still tiring. You walked past an alley, and you gripped your keys when you heard footsteps begin behind you. You started walking slightly faster, cursing under your breath when they speed up as well. You discreetly shifted your purse in front of you and dug through it, grabbing what you needed before speeding up again and rounding a corner.

You quickly turned around just in time, spraying the mace in the eyes of the person following you. They cursed loudly, clawing at their eyes. You stepped backwards and whirled around to run, when you stumbled into another body. You looked up and saw another unfamiliar man, who did not look pleased. He harshly grabbed your arm and you cursed, sticking your other hand in your purse (After the last incident you acquired several items just in case).

You quickly pulled it out and hit him on the temple, the brass knuckles meeting his skull with a loud crack. He cried out and stumbled back and you quickly turned around, punching the other man who was still reeling from the mace, knocking him out. You quickly ran from the alley, huffing as you refused to slow down. You could hear the other guy running behind you, cursing into what you assumed was a phone. The thought there could be more worried you, and you fished out your phone, tapping on the contact and holding it up to your ear. It rang twice when a gruff voice answered, “What do you want?” You laughed a bit, you obviously had the right person. “Number 2! You said this number was for emergencies, and I’m kind of in an emergency right now.” You huffed, out of breath as you continued down the street. It was a desolate part of town, the only people on the street were you and your pursuer.

You explained the situation to the hero and he cursed, “Ok, explain the area you're at to me.” You gave him the street names you just passed, “ Great, like 2 streets over is a hero agency, turn left at the next street then right and it’ll be right there. They’ll be open, so just run inside. I’ll be there soon.” You agreed and hung up, clutching your phone as you followed his directions, glad you didn’t wear heels today.

You skidded around the corner, the hero agency in sights. There were 2 heroes outside and you yelled out to get their attention, waving your hand and you ran towards them. They looked over, surprised, steadying you as you bent over, out of breath. You quickly turned on your feet, pointing in the direction you ran from. You explained the situation and gave descriptions of the two men, still panting. They ran off in that direction and you walked inside the agency, plopping down in a chair near the entrance.

A few minutes later the door burst open, Dynamight rushing over when he spotted you. He wasn’t in uniform, he must have been off duty. Guilt swirled in your gut as he approached. “M’sorry, were you off?” His eyebrows furrowed at your apology. “Why are you apologizing? Who cares if I wasn’t on duty, I gave you my number for emergencies, I expect you to fucking use it. Now, are you okay?” You smile softly at his words, nodding. He exhaled, crouching down to your height.

“Good. Now c’mon, give your statement to the police and I’ll take you home.” You nodded again, standing and heading to the police officer that was near the door, talking to the two heroes you had sent after the man chasing you. You explained the situation for the third time that night, giving street names and detailed descriptions of your attackers. Once the police had everything they needed, you followed the blond hero outside, to what you assumed was his car. “Thanks for coming, and for taking me home. I know you said not to be sorry, but I do feel bad for making you come take me home on your day off.” He rolled his eyes yet again, looking at you with a deadpan expression before looking back at the road.

“I could care less if I had to come pick you up, I wasn’t doing anything, if I was I would’ve had someone else come pick you up. Don’t get all sad or whatever, it wasn’t a big deal. And call me Bakugo, you don’t have to call me by my hero name all the time, it’s weird.” You smiled, knowing you hadn’t called him by his hero name since your initial meeting. You agreed anyway, smiling the rest of the way.

Though your smile quickly left your face when you passed your apartment building. “Um Bakugo, you passed my building.” You started to quietly panic, had you just made a huge mistake? “I know, I’m not taking you to your apartment. Don’t go freaking out, we’re going to my place. I don’t like that the guy was on the phone. It seemed like they were waiting for you, they might know where you live. Do you live with anyone, have any pets?” You shook your head, calming down once you heard his explanation. He nodded, pulling onto the highway. “Good. You can stay the night tonight and tomorrow we can look at your place, I’ll look for any bugs or anything that might be there, and you’ll look to see if anything seems off.” You agree to the plan, watching out the window as he drove to the nicer part of town.

After a while he pulls into the garage of a high rise, you hadn’t really put together that the number two hero was probably pretty well off. You followed him into the elevator, going to one of the top floors. You walk with him down the hallway, and he punches in a code on the door and you follow him into the apartment. It was incredibly spacious, but scarcely decorated, though he had an assortment of cooking supplies, implying he was a decent cook. You placed your purse on the hook and took off your shoes, standing awkwardly near the door, not sure where to go.

He disappeared down a hallway, only to peek around the corner. “Well, are you coming?” You follow him into a room. “You can sleep here, it’s the guest room. I’ll get you some clothes to change into.” With that he left the room, going further down the hallway before reappearing with clothes. He nods out the door. “The next door down is a bathroom, you can shower if you want, if you’re hungry I can make you something, otherwise you’re free to do whatever. I need to finish some paperwork so I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

You nod, and quickly shower, rinsing off the night’s events, the hot water making you realize just how tired you were. You dress, noticing how baggy the shirt and sweatpants he gave you were. You headed back into the bedroom, looking around before climbing into the bed. It was extremely comfy, and it only took a few moments before you were drifting off to sleep.

You woke to the smell of cooking and a soft light coming through the curtains. You sat up and stretched, you hadn’t slept this soundly or this long, in a while. You pad down the hallway, pulling up the sweatpants occasionally. You greeted Bakugo with a quiet good morning, slipping into one of the chairs in front of the island. He looked up, a slight flush overtaking his features as he took your appearance in, grumbling his own greeting before getting back to cooking. You watched him contentedly, chin resting on your palm.

He set a plate of food down in front of you, and you dig in happily as Bakugo sat next to you, eyeing you as you ate. You thanked him for the meal and once both of you were done eating, you did the dishes while Bakugo showered. After he was done it was your turn, he had found an old pair of leggings a friend had left over a while ago, and gave you another old shirt of his for you to wear. Thankfully the leggings fit well and after you were ready the two of you headed back to his car to look at your apartment.

You arrived at your apartment and the two of you looked it over. Nothing seemed out of place, and Bakugo didn’t find any bugs or anything suspicious that made it seem that people were watching you. You kept the curtains drawn the whole time, paranoid someone could see through your window. After thoroughly searching, you and Bakugo sat on your couch. You turned to the blonde, grinning. “So, lunch? I’ll buy.” He smirked, scooching closer. “I came to your aid twice, and all I get is lunch?” You pretended to think for a moment, sliding to where your thigh touched his, leaning to whisper in his ear. “Well, since you did so graciously help me out, maybe something could be arranged.” He chuckled and leaned closer, ready to collect.

#bakugo #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #my hero academia #my hero academy #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero x reader #bnha #mha #My writing

104 notes · View notes

teamhook · 4 years ago

Text

My Fate is Darkness :: CSSNS Ch10

Hello. I know it has been a long time but I'm going to finish this. I'm aware I have a lot of WIPs but if you're patient and stick around I will finish them all. To those who have stuck around and the new readers thank you.

I want to thank @cssns @hookedonapirate for taking time to beta for me.

AO3 |CH9| |CH10|

FFN |CH9| |CH10|

Here we go...

The road so far…

Friendships grow and a villain gains a mark in the hero column.

Rumplestiltskin had lived a very long life - one of luxury. Yes, it was at the expense of others' souls, but that didn't matter to him. Once upon a time, it would have mattered, but not anymore. During this time, his dark deeds had taken a toll on his body and heart. His appearance became more reptilian than human. The problem now was he was lonely. He wanted a companion. He'd made attempts to rectify that before and had failed miserably. Cora had chosen riches and power of her own over him. Years later, her oldest daughter had piqued his interest, but her insecurity had turned her into a green, wicked hag. Both were lost in their own darkness. Two more souls for his master. Later, the youngest went to him for training, and she too had been lost. Now he waited for an opportunity to make a deal with someone who was willing to exchange their freedom for his help.

Rumplestiltskin still didn't know what his master's complete plans were when it came to Jones. Jones turned into the opposite of his master's desires. On more than one occasion, the damn pirate thwarted their plans. Rumple suggested ending the pirate's miserable life, but Zoso declined by saying he needed him for a specific task. The darkness needed to consume the pirate's heart; the problem with that plan was that although the pirate tasted darkness before, he didn't let it corrupt him completely. He found a way to resist.

Rumple may not be all-knowing or powerful as his master, but he has a feeling Killian Jones will be his master's undoing and consequently his own. He needed to find the dagger for self-preservation purposes only. He would not lose everything again because of Killian Jones.

But first, it was time to make a new deal with a desperate soul. Perhaps this time he could get a lasting companion out of it.

Enchanted Forest

In the sea of deep green plant life, Whale finally woke up and found his way to Killian and their charge, Ruby.

Killian turned to his friend and hissed, "Where have you been?"

Whale grimaced as he felt the bump on his head. "I'm sorry, Killian. I was on my way to meet you and was knocked out."

Killian pondered his friend's words. "Perhaps it was the hunter I encountered. He must've thought we were going to hurt the lass."

"What happened to him?" Whale asked as he stretched his limbs and looked at the prone body.

"He is only unconscious with no memory of meself or the lovely lass," Killian said.

"Let's get the girl home," Whale said as he turned to the sleeping wolf. "We’re still missing the cloak."

"There's a woman. A healer that can help." Killian said. "She's not far from here. I'll carry the lass to the cart. I'm going to have to put silver shackles on her to keep her controlled. If she wakes up without restraints, she might attack, and I won't be around to protect you."

Victor sighed, "Okay, let's go."

On the way to the horses, Victor kept a close eye on the wolf as Killian pushed the cart with very little effort.

Killian glanced at his friend. "Victor, the tranquilizer you made is strong. I don't think she will wake up anytime soon."

"Easy for you to say, you have superhuman strength and speed. I'm just a walking piece of meat to her," Victor scoffed.

"Don't fret, we're almost there." Killian rolled his eyes at his friend's theatrics.

"Killian, this healer you are going to go see. Why haven't you mentioned her before?"

Killian smirked. "You're not my only friend, you know. I came across her not that long ago."

"Ah, when you were searching for the Dark One? I still can't believe you left me behind. I could've helped."

"Victor, I can't risk hurting anyone when he's around. The darkness around him can be overwhelming." Killian said.

"Alright, but somehow it was safe for you to meet a healer."

"She's a witch from a different realm. She has ways to protect herself from monsters like me. You don't. Don't you remember how we met?" Killian asked.

"Do you truly trust this witch?"

"She wields white magic. I believe she will be able to cleanse Ruby from the dark magic that forced her wolf out." Killian affirmed.

"Can she help with the replacement cloak?" Victor asked as the wolf growled in its sleep.

"I believe so. She's helped a lot of people and isn't afraid of me."

"I know you think you're this horrible monster. Yes, I know you've done horrible things in the past, but now you're a hero. I think you have to trust yourself more. Maybe even fall in love. I know you have your dalliances but they never go beyond that." Victor remarked as he stroked the fur of the sleeping wolf.

"Mate, I didn't know you were so sentimental. Alas, love isn't in the cards for me. Milah was it for me."

"I know I'm not your brother or anything, but we're the closest thing to family. You're like a brother to me." Victor's eyes welled with tears and he ducked his head to avoid Killian's gaze.

"Victor, are you crying?"

"No, no of course not. We've lived a long time and sometimes I wish I'd meet a nice girl to finally grow old with."

Killian stopped pushing the cart. "Victor, I'm sure once you stop using my blood, you will age."

"We don't have to worry about that. Let's get the beast to the horses." In all fairness, Victor knew Killian was right. He would only get in the way, Killian could move faster alone and he would be back sooner without Victor. He could easily transport himself with magic, but the less magic he used, the better.

Once they reached the horses, Killian grabbed a harness from the cart. He quickly attached the harness to the horses, and they made their way to a clearing, not far from Granny's home. There was a small, abandoned little hut. They didn't want to deliver Ruby to her grandmother before she was back to her human form. They also needed to maintain Ruby's secret. After depositing the wolf inside without a word, Killian left his friend to tend to it. There was no time to lose.

Killian arrived at the open space in the woods hours away. He looked around to make sure no one was around. He was about to knock on the invisible door when a clear wave of energy knocked him on his ass. He got up and started brushing off some dirt. "Glinda, it's me, lass. I need your help. I know you're home."

A door creaked open, and a blonde woman wearing a white cloak appeared. "Hook, is that you?" She asked.

"Aye, what was that?"

"I'm sorry, I had to add a barrier for protection. To be safe. So what do you need help with?"

"I have a werewolf. She has the scent of dark magic. She had an enchanted cloak to halt the transformations, but it went missing. I need to cleanse her and the enchantment to stop her transformation."

"You think someone did this to her."

"Aye, her eyes were a soulless black. Not a natural hue for a wolf's eyes."

"Let me grab a few things." She tossed some items in a rucksack, mumbling to herself as if she'd made a list.

Killian looked around the room. It was cozy, but he knew it wasn't what she was used to. In Oz, her native home, she lived in a castle, but here, she had a small cottage with just enough to get by.

"Okay, I'm ready. How do we do this?" Glinda asked.

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Lass, I ran here. You know how I feel about using too much dark magic."

She blinked, "I can use my magic to take us both to our location. That is if you're okay with being close to me."

He nodded with a slight smile on his lips. She was a beautiful lass, and he was aware she found him appealing, but to be in such close proximity to a woman and the scent of her blood might entice the darker part of him.

As if she knew what was going through his mind, she said, "Killian, I can use my magic to put a slight barrier between us, if that makes you feel better."

"Won't the effort drain you?"

"It will tire me but not enough to not do my job," she said.

He grabbed her bag and walked slowly toward her space. "Do it. I will guide you with my thoughts." He closed his eyes as she surrounded them with a clear field, and then with a burst of energy, the pair were swallowed by the magic in the air.

Killian and Glinda instantly appeared in front of Victor and the sleeping wolf.

"That was quick," Victor said as he laid eyes on his friend. Once his eyes landed on the woman, he raised a single brow appreciatively.

"Victor, meet Glinda. Victor is my oldest friend. And this lass is the one you're here to help."

Glinda took off her cloak, revealing a simple dress. She extended her hand for the bag Killian was holding.

"Lass, we shall give you room to work. The wolf should be sleeping for a while." He said to encourage her.

Victor and Killian walked away.

"I suppose I can see the appeal," Victor said.

Killian rolled his eyes, "I told you, I have no interest in those activities. I just want to find Zoso and Rumple and end them. Revenge is all I have left."

"If you say so, but if you're not interested, do you mind if I court the lady?" Victor asked with a smile.

Killian laughed. "I thought you didn't trust the witch."

Victor reddened, "Well, she seems lovely, and you trust her." He shrugged.

Killian nodded and turned his attention to Glinda as she cleansed the wolf, Ruby. He sat down on one of the beat-up chairs. Victor grabbed the other available chair and sat next to Killian.

Glinda approached Killian. "Do you have the item you want me to enchant?"

Killian reached into his pocket and took out a ruby pendant necklace from his pirate days. It was an expensive jewel. He handed her the necklace. "Make sure it's a strong spell."

She smiled. "I will."

She walked back to the wolf, whispered something in her ear, and started chanting. The pendant glowed a vibrant red. Once finished, she put the pendant around the wolf's furred neck. The pendant glowed once more as it surrounded the wolf's body and transformed her into a naked woman.

Killian averted his eyes, while Victor admired the sleeping form. When Glinda waved her hand over the body, a dress appeared, covering up the young girl.

Back in the forest, the unconscious hunter finally woke up with no memory of how or why he was there. He entered his humble home confused, but determined to find out what happened during his missing time.

In Haven Isles, the sandy beach had been the favorite training spot for Emma and Liam. On one of their last training days, before they finally went on a hunt, Liam glanced in Emma's direction as she took instructions from Mulan. He wondered about his mother. Emma had mentioned his mother was a force to be reckoned with. She was one of the best hunters the Isle had produced.

He was curious about her. Did he take after his father or did he have more of her features? After his recovery, he wanted to ask about her, but he could never get the words out. Then later he realized that his little brother was gone. If time truly moved as he was explained, then he would need to mourn his brother.

Emma was walking toward Liam,her long hair pulled up into a ponytail. She noticed a faraway look in his eyes. "Hey, Liam. Mulan says it's your turn. I think I upset her. Sorry."

Liam smiled at Emma snd shook his head. "You know she is going to take it out on me."

"I said I was sorry. Liam, are you alright?"

"I just miss my brother. I wish I could have been there for him. I wonder if he met a good girl. Maybe I have great-nephews out there."

"Don't let Blue hear you. You know she will oppose you seeking out any relatives. I'm sorry you missed out, but at least you get to know your origins."

"Emma, do you think you can show me my mother's archives? Sometimes I wonder if she would have married the man who was her soulmate if she were still alive?"

"Maybe, but you wouldn't be here. I've always hated that part. The soulmates thing is just another way they control you. Your mom, she didn't want that. She wanted to follow her heart."

"Do you think it's possible to fight against that bond?"

"Your mom did it." She shrugged. "Jonathan, that was the name of your mom's soulmate. After she left he fell in love with a mortal. I think it can be done. I imagine he was happy."

"Have you met your soulmate?"

Emma's eyes widened. "I don't think so."

"How can you not know your soulmate? You're about to go on your first hunt. Shouldn’t you have met him by now?"

Emma looked away. "Liam, Mulan is waiting for you. You're just going to anger her more and she will make you regret it."

Liam wanted to ask if he upset her, but turned to look at Mulan who was staring daggers his way.

Emma sat down in the sand. Liam was right she should have met her match by now, but for some reason, she hadn't yet. It made no sense. Unless he wasn't here. If her soulmate was out there, she would find him.

Merlin approached Emma. "Hello, young one. Are you ready for your magic training?"

Emma winced. "Can I have a break today?"

"I'm sorry, no you can't. Blue already opposes your training if you show her you have no interest she will surely use that as an excuse to make us stop. It will be a disservice to you and your abilities. I sense something is bothering you."

"Can you truly see everything that is to come?"

"I can see glimpses, why?"

"How is it possible that Liam's mom met someone who was not her soulmate and fell in love?"

Merlin didn't expect that question. "Is this about your soulmate?"

She turned to look at Liam. "Merlin, he shouldn't be here. His mom shouldn't have been able to meet someone out there but she did. It makes no sense. How is it the Isle let him in?"

"Emma, sometimes things happen because they're supposed to. Perhaps Alice was supposed to meet Liam's father. Some things escape logic. Magic is one of them."

"I know you know something you're not telling me. Merlin, I will not ask you what that is for now. I hope it's not a mistake trusting you."

"Emma, some things are revealed to me as needed. I can't give you answers I don't have. I believe Liam is connected somehow. I still don't know everything."

Emma and Liam had been training together for months now and were finally given their first assignment, much to Blue’s disapproval.

Merlin pulled Liam aside. “Liam, you have proven you're a hunter like your mother was. I know you and Emma will be leaving soon, but I have an assignment for you. Only you.”

Liam stared at the man, confused. “I thought we always have to go in pairs.”

“You will, but first you will retrieve a young lady showing signs of magic, and bring her here.” Merlin handed him a vial.

“I thought no one from the outside could come in?” Liam said as looked at the vial.

Merlin laughed. “That’s what the vial is for. Liam, there is a very important reason why it must be you. Alone. Sadly, I cannot say why. You must trust me.”

“What will I tell Emma?” Liam asked.

“I will explain this alteration to her. You two are going together, but will have to go on separate paths. There’s also a reason for her to go alone on this hunt,” Merlin said cryptically.

“You see the future, so is this part of the future to come?”

“It is. This is fated, and no one can escape fate,” Merlin simply said.

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38

#Captain Swan #cssns18 #cs ff

25 notes · View notes

redhoodedwolf · 4 years ago

Text

A Week-ish of Sterek Fics

Hello all! So I recently accidentally fell back into my AO3 bookmarks and have fallen down a rabbit (fox? eh?) hole that leaves me entirely unproductive and sleep deprived but full of feels, so I thought I’d share all of the fics that I’ve rerereread thus far in the last week (it’s over 75 guys) (since friday 😬). Each has the fic name and description, length, and year pub/finished because it makes me feel old. Also all of these are complete because I am weak and cannot handle WIPs.

Note: I’m not adding any tags to the descriptions, so make sure to read the tags and ratings on each fic first before reading!!!

Teaching Derek How to Text (and Other Shenanigans) by neilwrites | 9K | 2018

yo derek Who’s dying

---

I see your 'Derek doesn't have a phone' line and raise you 'Derek has a phone, he and Stiles text all the fucking time.'

The Hoodie by ladiekatie | 1.7K | 2017

“You shouldn’t be able to see me. What are you?” The guy in the hoodie says, the ball of energy grows hotter under Derek’s chin.

or the one where Derek is just trying to talk to the guy at the back of the subway.

Nothing You Could Say by SylvieW | 13K | 2016

Stiles’ second year of college is not working out as he planned. He rarely sees Scott, his job is exhausting, and to get home after his shift, he has to walk at three in the morning. Nearly getting mugged is the icing on the cake, but luckily a gruff stranger is there to rescue him. But now Stiles can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s not alone in the dark.

Old Traditions, Werewolf Edition by Footloose | 3.6K | 2014

Stiles does not work his Omega ass off to attract frat boy Alphas. Absolutely not. He's at college to get his degree. If he's crushing on an Alpha who never crosses the lines of propriety, well, no one needs to know, right?

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup | 14K | 2016

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

third time's the charm by stilinski | 4.9K | 2016

Sure, Stiles has a mark on his chest that belies the depth of his feelings, but it's not something anyone can see unless he decides to show it, or unless werewolves suddenly have x-ray vision.

Which—worrying. And probably-definitely-likely a possibility – if it was to manifest anywhere, Beacon Hills would be top of the list.

Stiles almost turns around there and then to ask Scott how his visual acuity is but is stopped by the teenager at the register finally looking up long enough to spot Derek. Stiles watches her mouth fall open and her expression—studiously blank but with a faint flush rising in her cheeks—is one Stiles knows far too well, particularly when faced with Derek in all his snug-fitting-jeans, v-neck-wearing, canvas-jacketed glory.

Stiles is pretty sure he invented that expression.

Ukochany by VincentMeoblinn| 34K | 2016

Derek comes home to find a mail order husband and two amused betas waiting for him. When he realizes their prank was far from harmless he ends up saddled with a husband who barely speaks English but insists Derek is the love of his life. He's also determined to win him over.

only if for a night by stilinskisparkles | 3.2K | 2016

“I’m Stiles,” he says breathlessly.

“Derek.”

“Derek, hi, do you—”

Derek doesn’t let him finish, kisses the words right out of his mouth.

Hypothetically by alisvolatpropiis | 6.6K | 2015

Stiles holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the sinking sun, its orange-yellow light reflected infinitely across the vast, calm ocean. As utterly stunning as the sunset over the Pacific is, especially while floating leisurely on a surfboard a few hundred feet from shore, it’s a mere backdrop that pales in comparison to who he’s looking at.

Derek Hale, whose eyes are their own oceans that Stiles feels like he’s been floating on since the first time they met. The older man’s eyes are as ever-changing and colorful as the sea they’ve spent the day on, a palette of greens and blues filigreed with gold around the pupils. And if that weren’t enough, the rest of Derek is also transcendentally exquisite: high, arching cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, although that particular perfection is a bit obscured these days by his ever-thickening beard, night-black like his hair, nearly shoulder-length but almost always knotted in a messy bun at the crown of his head.

sincerely, derek by stilinskisparkles | 8.1K | 2016

September, 2009

Hi Stiles, it’s Derek. Derek Hale, from space camp. I’m writing this in English because my teacher Ms Grady said I had to write about my summer, but I spent my summer with you, so I decided to write to you, instead.

Please write back. Love from Derek.

Pancakes and Murder by Amethyst Shard (AmethystShard) | 14K | 2012

Stiles' life has been a roller-coaster filled with awesome highs and terrifying drops ever since his best friend Scott got bit by a werewolf. The ride hits a bump when a dead body turns up at the Hale house (again) and Derek's only alibi is Stiles. Which would be fine, except that Stiles' dad is the sheriff and has no idea his son has been hanging out with the former fugitive. Awkward.

The Witching Hour by MellytheHun | 8.2K | 2016

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born

Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs (Series) by MellytheHun | 11K | 4 Works | 2016

This series started with this Tumblr prompt, "it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au

Stiles is walking home when he's stalked by a dangerous stranger and an even more dangerous stranger comes to his rescue.

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill | 32K | 2013

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

You are the Moon by skoosiepants | 10K | 2012

Stuff Stiles doesn’t like to deal with first thing: hot, moist dog breath in his face, a cuddly werewolf creepifying his perfectly normal morning wood with shades of bestiality, and his dad holding his service revolver up against the skull of his bedmate, never mind the fact that his bedmate could possibly be a vicious unhinged rogue omega.

Baby, you should stick around by ElisAttack | 9.5K | 2016

Derek's driving along a stretch of highway when an unusual sight makes him slow down, the engine of his old pickup rattling in protest.

There's a kid standing by the side of the road.

It's the middle of nowhere, the goddamn apocalypse, and this kid is standing by the side of the road with his thumb pointed skyward. Like he's playing at being a hitchhiker.

Or the one where Stiles thinks he's all alone in a post-apocalyptic world, until he meets Derek.

Don’t Be Anything But Okay by skoosiepants | 4.8K | 2016

“Oh my god.”

Ben pops open the car door and says, “Please don’t embarrass me, Dad.”

Stiles flaps a hand, still staring at the magnificent sight before him. There are glistening arm muscles and a sweaty tank top and then the vision bends over and holy god. He has to look away; it’s too much to take in all at once, he might swoon.

OR-

Stiles has a teenager and Derek has a plant nursery.

covalent bonds (Series) by HalfFizzbin | 9.2K | 3 Works | 2015

Derek's a hot nerd. Stiles is a nerdy jock. A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES.

Disappear Here by AgnesBlue | 28K | 2016

Stiles was quiet. “What?” Derek said again. “My first heat is coming up soon,” Stiles said at last. Derek closed his eyes, disinterested. He knew where Stiles was going with this. “I was thinking…hoping, really,” Stiles said. “Maybe you could stay with me during that time.”

AU in which wounded in a fire that killed off his entire family, Derek wants nothing more than to be left alone as he finishes off his senior year in high school. That all changes when omega Stiles Stilinski asks him to help him through his first heat.

Money Isn't Everything by TroubleIWant | 6.3K | 2015

Stiles slurps at the dregs of his iced hazelnut latté, pretending he doesn’t need a refill just yet. Supporting your local business is great and all, but Isaac charging $5 for a coffee with syrup is highway robbery. He’s already cut his expenses down to the bare minimum, and splurging for foofy drinks is not in the budget. Except that he can’t really help himself: black coffee is plain gross. Maybe I should plan on marrying rich, he thinks darkly.

Or,

Stiles has a huge crush on the super-hot guy he always sees at Isaac's coffee shop, but when he finds out that they guy's an unemployed orphan he has to decide if the difference in their financial situations is a deal-breaker, or just a bump on the path to true love.

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock | 21K | 2014

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

you and me (and my best friend) by trilliastra | 1.5K | 2016

“Come on, I shouldn’t be the only one having orgasms. Let me help you out.”

“Uh –” someone clears their throat and Derek jumps, startled, hits his elbow on the wall and curses, “am I interrupting something?” Stiles asks, cheeks red.

Derek looks up, sighing. Of all the people working in this damn school, Stiles had to be the one to catch him and Erica talking about sex. It’s just Derek’s luck. He spills juice on his pants? Stiles walks into the classroom; Laura starts yelling at him about something that happened when they were kids? Stiles is right behind them, waiting for his coffee; Boyd accidentally throws a ball at his face? Stiles is at the E.R. when Derek gets there with a swollen face and a broken nose.

The universe hates him.

Easy Alpha by interropunct | 4.6K | 2012

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school hussy, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popular belief, everyone is still a virgin.

Body Language by LadyMerlin | 2.3K | 2016

In an alternate universe, soulmates exist, and they can communicate with each other by writing on their own skin.

The catch? No one knows their soulmates' name. It could literally be anyone under the sun, and Stiles just doesn't have that kind of patience.

chantes une nouvelle chanson pour moi by pr1nc3ssp34ch (dallisons) | 13K | 2013

Stiles Stilinski has been at Hogwarts since his first year, okay. That's six years of experience. He knows how Hogwarts works, how it operates. He's not quite an expert or anything, but he's pretty damn sure he knows this school.

So why the hell have they waited like a million years to start taking transfer students?

And why is he the only one who can't get a French date?

C’était Salement Romantique by Swing Set in December (swing_set13) | 2.2K | 2015

The Triwizard tournament is really about fostering wizarding relations. Ask anyone. Just not Stiles, he’s busy French kissing Derek.

Hogwarts really should teach some linguistic classes.

The Long Way Home by MyChemicalRachel | 19K | 2016

Stiles didn’t plan to sleep with his best friend’s dad. It just kind of happened. And then it happened again. And again. And again…

All that once was, remains. by countrygirlsfun | 8.8K | 2016

Life is only a long list of constants.

Being a part of a royal family, being a prince, has been a constant in Derek Hale’s life since he was born and swaddled in silk cloths.

Wherein Derek finds himself in love with a stable boy who is more than he seems.

Driver's Education by arrowofcarnations | 9.2K | 2014

This is the moment he realizes he can never have Derek Hale – that he was stupid to ever think he could. Maybe their moms made them hang out when they were little and maybe they’ve managed to get along these past few weeks, but they’re too different. Derek’s cool, he plays a million sports, he drives a Camaro, he’s friends with Jackson. Stiles doesn’t fit into the equation and he never will.

Letters by ericaismeg | 8.9K | 2014

“Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do something about it?” Lydia demands. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”

***

OR: The one where Lydia sets up an email account for Stiles to "confess his love" for Derek. And as fate would have it, they also end up becoming friends in person at the same time.

We're One of a Kind (Like Dip Da Dip Da Dip Do Whap De Dobby Do) by orphan_account | 3.5K | 2012

Derek is your classic greaser—with a leather jacket, a hot rod, a hot bike, and a duck butt. Genim “Stiles” Stilinski a total fream—he’s too cool to be a poindexter but he’s so far from a cat that Derek almost feels bad for him. All that’s missing in this love story is some oddly perfectly timed musical numbers.

do it for our country by HalfFizzbin | 936 | 2012

In which Derek tries to play it cool but Stiles is totally hep to his jive.

Fast Times At Clairemont High by MonsieurBlueSky (MyChemicalRachel) | 6.9K | 2016

Stiles is stoked when he's chosen for an undercover operation to take down a drug ring. He's less stoked when he discovers that he'll be posing as a seventeen year old student at the High School where Derek teaches.

It's Too Early For This by thepsychicclam | 4.9K | 2016

Derek loves his job at the coffee shop, especially because Stiles comes in for coffee before early Saturday morning lacrosse practices. The problem is that Derek is too shy to do anything about his crush, and the situation is not helped by the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams.

A Tentative Truce by Inell | 8.5K | 2016

Stiles and Derek have a long standing rivalry that has extended beyond the Beacon Hills High School theater department to every other area of their high school lives. With the announcement of the winter production, their competitiveness has to be set to the side so the musical can be successful. With a tentative truce in place, Stiles unable to ignore his growing infatuation for his co-star.

we keep living anyway by bistiles (alis) | 10K | 2015

“Oh, damn, my manners. What an example I’m setting, am I right? I’m Stiles Stilinski, but call me Stiles, please,” Stilinski extended his hand for Derek to shake, and Derek took it, feeling the solid grip and the long fingers around his own hand. For some reason, he blushed on the spot.

“Derek. Derek Hale. Call me just Derek,” He answered, still holding Stiles’ hand in his.

By the look on Stiles’ face, he felt much the same as what Derek was feeling, whatever that unnamed reaction was.

“And this little barnacle attached to me,” Stiles continued, letting go of Derek and flushing pink, “is Leigh.”

Stiles is struggling to raise his only child all alone, while dealing with financial problems, a new job, and Adrian Harris, the worst boss in the world.

But then he meets Derek Hale, a dreamy co-workers, and what is a terrible situation becomes considerably less grim, when he has Derek by his side.

Don't Judge a Derek By His Cover by captaintinymite (augopher) | 4.5K | 2015

Stiles doesn't care about the rumors surrounding Beacon Hills High School's resident bad boy, Derek Hale. In fact, he thinks the rumors are total crap. Of course, being secretly in love with someone has a way of clouding one's judgment.

However, he knew for a fact that Derek liked books. So when the two paired up for a final English project, he was excited (but also a little terrified).

But you know what they say...never judge a book by its cover. The same goes for people.

sometimes fate is like a small snowstorm by thepsychicclam | 8.1K | 2014

In a coffee shop two days before Christmas, Derek meets Stiles. Despite neither of them being interested in relationships, they spend an unforgettable evening together, but then part ways. During the following years, Stiles competes in the Olympics, Derek tours the world - and neither of them forget. Then twelve years later, two days before Christmas, Derek finds Stiles in that same coffee shop.

aka a kinda sorta serendipity au

should the pillars of memory topple out of my reach by bleep0bleep | 4.3K | 2015

If Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say that look in Derek's eyes is adoring, but he does know better, and also amnesiac Derek thinks they’re married. Which is the only fact he hasn’t questioned so far, which is the weirdest thing.

Just High School by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 4.5K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been dating for some time.

The only thing is, nobody else really knows.

Tis The Season Baristas Fear The Most by stilinskisparkles | 5.4K | 2012

Scott is hands down the worst barista Derek has ever hired. But it's Christmas and apparently that means something to some people.

Mind Reading Can Be Such a Pain in the A** (Series) by Fanhag102 | 21K | 2 Works | 2015

Derek Hale can read minds. If he could have chosen a mutant power for himself instead of being given one by random, genetic happenstance it's safe to say mind-reading would not have been his 1st, 2nd, or even 96th choice.

Maybe if he'd gotten the power of invisibility he wouldn't be sitting in a senior Economics class next to a hyperactive kid with a buzz cut who won’t stop thinking about dicks.

A Criminal and His Lucky Charm by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 5.9K | 2015

Please forgive yourself.

For what?

For allowing yourself to let someone in. For letting me love you. I didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t your fault. Derek, please, just do it. Please— please don’t drag this out.

Derek Hale valued Stiles above everyone—everything. And Stiles betrayed that. In the end, he figured if he had to die, dying in Derek’s arms wasn’t so bad. He could at least have that.

the things you said when we were the happiest we’ve ever been by foxerica (ericaismeg) | 4.8K | 2015

Derek and Stiles meet again at their high school reunion.

From Dirty Paws by Surreal | 9.9K | 2014

Stiles finds a wolf in the woods. Well, it's more like the wolf finds him. Either way, he's happy to have a new friend in his otherwise boring social circle.

flawless by bibliosexual | 4.9K | 2015

“I know you and I are, like, werewolf-married, but dude, if I ever met Lydia Martin in person . . . All bets are off, is all I'm saying."

It's not like Stiles really means it (does he?), but it still makes Derek’s hands clench into claws on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, if," he says, and keeps his eyes on the road.

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj | 18K | 2015

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Baseball Pants by thatfamoushappyending (betsytheoven) | 2.8K | 2015

Scott shows Stiles a picture of the new pitcher for the Dodgers, and Stiles is suddenly an avid Dodgers fan.

While You Were(n't Quite) Sleeping by mikkimouse | 13K | 2015

Scott’s mom, Melissa, had given Stiles the basics on Derek’s condition when he’d first come over here a month ago. Derek had been here six years, the only survivor of a horrific house fire that had killed the rest of his family. It had left him burned, half his face puckered with scars, and he’d been in a catatonic state the entire time. Stiles couldn’t even begin to imagine how awful that would be, being trapped in your own body for years on end, all alone.

Stiles had an inkling of how much being alone sucked, anyway.

(An AU in which Derek is the one who was trapped in the fire, and then in the hospital, based on a set of pictures from littlecofiegirl.)

dhale25 by ericaismeg | 8.1K | 2014

Derek Hale is an actor in Los Angeles, Stiles is a fanboy in Toronto. When Derek posts his Snap Chat username on Twitter, inviting people to add him, Stiles gets brave and adds him.

They develop a snapping relationship, and it gets intense.

I Settle for Long Distance Calls by iamursforevrmre | 4.3K | 2014

Derek is the guy who Stiles met on some random band page on MySpace because Derek made a ridiculously hilarious comment and with a spurt of confidence, Stiles had messaged him to tell him just how hilarious it was and they got to talking. Derek is the guy that made a FaceBook account just to talk to Stiles on the messenger so they could talk more when MySpace was slowly dying out. Derek is the guy that changed his text message plan to unlimited when he finally sent Stiles his cell phone number. Derek is the guy that has been on the phone with Stiles at any and all hours through the day.

And Derek is the guy that Stiles is in love with.

You look like my next mistake by Vendelin | 15K | 2015

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes.

His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to.

In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Coaches Cupcake Coffee House by ChildOfTheRevolution | 4.8K | 2013

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy, ‘It means he wants to ride the dick Stiles.’ He said slowly, as if talking to the mentally insane.

‘Ride the dick, my dick?’ Stiles asked weakly.

‘Figuratively speaking of course, Derek looks more like a topper to me. And you, my friend, are a twink of the most twinkiest standards, but I’m not one to judge.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stiles admitted, finding himself in a weird crouch-like stance that he apparently now adopts when he’s overwhelmed about finding out Derek Hotcakes wants to bone him three ways to Sunday.

Gladiator AU ( Series) by HaleHole (SweetFanfics) | 9.9K | 2 Works | 2013

He looks up at the door and waits. He hopes that whoever it is, they will be go easy on him. Werewolf he might be, with superhuman healing, but that does not mean that he will not be sore the next day. And he is scheduled for a fight.

Let it be someone easy to please, Derek hopes. Someone who will be quick to take their pleasure and even quicker to leave. He keeps hoping this as the door is pushed open. A voice murmurs a quick set of instructions to whoever has hired him for this session. It is cut off half way through by a familiar, impatient voice that makes Derek strain against his bonds. -- Rome based, Gladiator AU

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain | 35K | 2013

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Theory of Overprotective Canines by rosepetals42 | 11K | 2015

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Hot for Teacher('s Aide) by linksofmemories_archive | 8K | 2013

“He invited you to his apartment.”

“To do a lesson plan.”

“Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows.

“That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”

The healing touch by devilscut | 96K | 2015

Stiles loses his temper with the rest of the pack when they all make excuses not to volunteer to help their Alpha. Deaton has instructed that for the next 24 hours Derek can't use his hands after he seriously injures them in a magical entrapment. Seeing the emotional hurt that Derek's selfish pack has inflicted on him when they argue and try to get out of it, Stiles volunteers to stay and then proceeds to give the rest of them a verbal ass-kicking. He then takes care of his friend, the Alpha, Derek Hale, while trying to work out what his feelings are towards the werewolf.

Quit Dragon Me Around (Seies) by WonderWolf | 17K | 3 Works | 2015

Stiles makes the mistake of taking Derek’s sword and now the grumpy werewolf seems determined to stop him from stealing and landing himself in jail.

Stiles is not pleased. He’s also starving.

(Or the one in which Derek has good intentions, but little understanding of how Dragon biology works. He just wants the cute mole-speckled kid to be safe). -----

“Five meals, Scott. Derek Hale has stopped me from eating five meals. I can’t believe he’s really trying to kill me over stealing his sword. That’s so petty of him. It isn’t like I meant to steal it,” Stiles complains.

“You kind of did mean to, dude,” Scott adds unhelpfully.

“But you don’t understand, Scott. It-”

“Just smelled so good? I know, you’ve said that like fifty times over the past two weeks,” Scott says.

“This is the equivalent of him stealing my lunch money, right? Thanks to him, I didn’t have a meal this week. Or last week! He’s a bully, is what he is. A nice smelling, douchebag of a bully.”

You'll See Me Again by matildajones | 10K | 2015

Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.

“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.

Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.

Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn't seem to care that Derek's a prince or that he's a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it's not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.

Thousand by ericaismeg | 4.2K | 2014

“Seriously, Erica, I could tell him a thousand times in a thousand ways and he's never going to understand what I mean.”

“I thought I told you to spell it out to him,” Erica says. “Derek's has trust issues. I told you this would be difficult.”

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf | 11K | 2015

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

The Wolf that whispered into Stiles' Heart by ElStark | 9.9K | 2015

Basically the Union of the prompts:

Mute!Stiles + Wolf!Derek + Soulmates/Mates AU

“Don’t you have a pack?” Stiles asks him –by then he had discovered that the wolf was in fact a male wolf –“I mean, wolves move in packs, right? Lone wolves don’t make it on their own. I read it yesterday.” He says while they’re both sprawled on the fallen leaves in Stiles’ secret-thinking spot in the woods. Derek licks his face, and Stiles laughs. “Is that your way to tell me that I’m your pack?” Derek licks him again on the nose, making the boy’s face scrunch up, “Ugh. Gross, dude!” he wipes his drool covered face with his sleeve and then gives the wolf a pointed look, “I’m not a wolf, you should have noticed, you know, I don’t exactly have fur and I don’t growl and I don’t have glowing eyes…” He says leaning in to look them closer, “Are you even supposed to have those kind of eyes? I couldn’t find anything about wolves and glowing eyes on the internet..” The wolf snorts.

Aftermath by GhostwithShotgun | 11K | 2015

Stiles suffers from PTSD and insomnia after the events with the nogitsune. He has nightmares, gets at most one hour of sleep every night and has daily panic attacks. He tries his best to hide it because they all have their own troubles and he doesn't want to burden his friends further.

Meanwhile, Derek has made a habit out of checking all pack members every night to make sure they're alright.

Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit | 18K | 2015

“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That's... huh.

Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).

It's a Schlong Story by floatingstark | 33K | 2015

"Do you like him?"

"Of course I do, he’s great!"

"Then what is the fucking problem?"

"My dick!"

-or-

Ex-Porn Star Derek Hale has a lot of issues but Ice Cream Parlor Owner Stiles Stilinski is not one of them.

Bad Dog Bakery and Café by Boom | 27K | 2015

Stiles saves an Omega from wolfsbane poisoning. Said Omega now won't leave Stiles alone. Stiles doesn't really have a problem with this.

Beat The Blues by lilpeas | 2.9K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been childhood friends since the sandpit. When Talia realises Stiles is in love with Derek, she knows Derek has to stop seeing him: Derek’s a werewolf and Stiles is human. It can’t be.

But things never go according to plan.

Red Light's Already Off by orphan_account | 3.3K | 2015

Stiles isn't a hooker. He just plays one on TV.

Noteworthy Observations by LadyDrace | 3.7K | 2015

In which Derek recieves complimentary notes in his locker from a secret admirer, and though it turns out they weren't actually for him, things turn out pretty well in the end.

One Hale of a Sandwich by whatthehale | 10K | 2014

Stiles in bed isn’t really something Derek should be thinking about.

Ever.

Because the person who normally picks Lily up from school? Is Scott.

Lily’s other parent. And Stiles’s partner.

Not to mention the entire source of Derek’s current misery.

AKA, the one in which Derek thinks Scott and Stiles are in a relationship and that they want to threesome with Derek. Spoiler Alert? They aren't and they don't.

Choice by Omni | 8.6K | 2015

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings.

Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't.

(Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

Emergency Love by Kedreeva | 13K | 2012

Wherein Derek is a firefighter and Stiles is a paramedic, and they just keep meeting.

gave your smile to me by Sarageek16 | 4.7K | 2013

In which Stiles is a hooker (but not really), Derek wants to feed his skinny little body, and there is soup. Not necessarily in that order.

#sterek #eternalsterek #sterek fic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fic rec list

103 notes · View notes

thornescratch · 3 years ago

Note

🏅🖊

What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

At my best, (read: most panicked) I can slam out between 3K and 5K words a day. For my last exchange fic, I had a lot going on in my job and personal life at the time, so I couldn't write during my usual free time periods. I ended up writing a 43K word story in about a ten day period, and it mostly hung together. So, I was kinda pleased with that output.

For the exchange before that one, I wrote a 5K pinch fill in four hours on very little notice. So, I'm pleased that my bullshitting skills are still fairly on point.

Post a snippet from a current WIP.

I have no idea what fandom you're into, so I'm gonna go with some Star Wars shit I just wrote and have no idea where it’s going.

Luke wishes he still had his cloak. It's comfortable and flares perfectly; Han swears most of his Jedi mystique is all the cloak. But that's been long ruined now anyway, cloak or not. He's regretfully aware that it's difficult at best for a reputation to come back from multiple unconscious trips over someone's shoulder, no matter how many mysterious hoods and dramatic entrances came before.

"I'm awake," Luke says again, and before the Mandalorian can say anything, adds, "And I can walk now, actually this time."

"Good to know," the Mandalorian says, and doesn't stop walking. They're going upwards on a narrow path that has a rocky cliff wall on one side, and a sheer drop off on the other side. Luke vaguely remembers going past this gorge yesterday, walking on his own two feet. It hadn’t been much fun then, either.

"So. You don't need to carry me," Luke says. He pats the Mandalorian's back in what he hopes is a convincing way.

"You should try to be less portable, then."

"That's." Luke is jostled briefly as the Mandalorian takes two extra-long strides to get over a rock; his mind jostles along with it, grasping at the words. "I don't usually get that. Called that. Portable."

"Yeah?" the Mandalorian says. "If the armor fits."

"I said I could walk," Luke says.

"You did say that. Then you passed out."

"Only temporarily."

There was a long silence. Luke closes his eyes rather than look at the potential fall waiting for them and focuses on the light breeze blowing across the gorge, the feel of it as it stirs his hair, rather than the dull aching throb at the back of his head which is pounding in time with his heart.

"All passing out is temporary," the Mandalorian says.

Luke opens his eyes. The path is widening, and they're past the gorge edge and now headed towards flatter ground, thankfully. "What?"

"It's not a good excuse. Because it's all temporary. Unless you die."

"Are we still on—oh, right. I guess. But, I mean. I did wake up. And didn't die." He halfheartedly tests the strength of the grip across the back of his legs, and finds it as basically unbreakable of the beskar pauldron that's still digging into his stomach.

"This time," the Mandalorian says. "Stop squirming."

"No, you're right, it doesn't make sense. It's like partial nudity," Luke says, because while he probably isn't up to feats of strength for breaking free, he might be able to actually annoy the Mandalorian into putting him down. It's happened before. "You're either nude or you're not. You pass out or you die."

No answer.

"Come on, I set that up for you," Luke says. "On a plate."

"Is it a Jedi thing, then?" the Mandalorian says, and he must have something in his vocoder that somehow makes it come out even flatter when he wants it to. "Being naked and passing out. I had wondered."

"It might just be a me thing," Luke regretfully admits. He manages to get one hand up to swipe at the trickle of sweat that's been coming down his temple and driving him crazy, except his hand comes back smeared with red, so. Not great. "But since there's not a lot of Jedi. I guess you could make that argument. That, you know, now it's a Jedi thing. Because of me. Also I'm sorry because I think I bled on your cape. Hopefully just a little." He swipes again and winces. "Maybe more than a little."

The Mandalorian makes a noise deep in his throat. "Try to keep most of your blood inside you until we get to the treeline," he says. "And your clothes on." He walks a little faster, but his gait stays smooth, keeping the jostling to a minimum.

#writing #meme #Star Wars

5 notes · View notes

thatwritergirlsblog · 6 years ago

Text

Testing out popular (FREE) writing hacks

There are a lot of writing hacks floating around, tips that are supposed to increase your writing productivity. Well, I tested them, and here are my thoughts:

1. Use Comic Sans

Let’s be honest. When we were in primary school, we typed EVERYTHING in Comic Sans. However, as we got older and more professional, Comic Sans appeared childish and we stopped using it.

Ask anyone what the most unprofessional font is and they’ll probably answer: Comic Sans MS

However, earlier this year the idea of using Comic Sans when writing your first draft started popping up and now, a lot of writers are swearing by it.

So, did it increase my productivity?

YES

I started writing a scene in Comic Sans and I wrote about five pages in like 30 minutes. The words just flowed. I don’t know why this font increases writing productivity, but if it works, I don’t really care why.

So, I would 100% recommend trying Comic Sans for your first draft. Remember, no one’s going to see it. And it’s pretty easy to change back to something like Times New Roman once you’ve finished a scene.

2. Dictation

I’ve heard a lot of professional authors rave about how much time they save by dictating their first drafts. However, a lot of dictation software and microphones are quite expensive. So, I tried the free alternatives at my disposal.

The latest version of OneNote, which comes included in a lot of Microsoft Office packages, now has a dictation feature. I know this isn’t technically free, but it was for me, since I already have Office installed. The OneNote mobile app is free, but I don’t know it is has this feature. And I just used the built-in microphone on my laptop. Google Docs also has a dictation feature, I think, but I haven’t tried it yet.

So, does it work?

The accuracy is surprisingly good. I dictated about three paragraphs this morning and only one or two words were incorrect. Also, OneNote’s dictation doesn’t allow for speaking punctuation, which means you’ll have to add these after the fact. Additionally, few people actually write in OneNote, so you’ll have to paste the text into your document.

Overall, this could be great for someone whose hands are tired of typing or who cannot sit at a desk any longer than their job already requires. However, it doesn’t really increase productivity. This may just be me, but I take longer to think up good sentences when I have to speak them. Then, I have to go back and add punctuation marks and correct some words. And then paste it into my draft document. It’s easier to just write it from the get-go.

However, some authors say that it just takes getting used to. So, maybe if you’re more of a verbal/audio thinker and don’t have your hands available at all times, this is a good hack for you. I just don’t think I’ll be using it much.

3. Writing sprints

This has been around for quite some time, but I only really started using it when I attempted Camp Nanowrimo during my test month. Essentially, writing sprints entail setting a timer for somewhere under an hour and then just focusing on getting as many words written as possible before the timer goes off. There are many published authors who swear by this.

So, does it increase productivity?

Yes. Firstly, it pushes you to write when you wouldn’t have in other circumstances, since it allows you to utilise even the smallest free periods. Have an hour between classes? Find a flat surface and do a writing sprint. Have to study all evening? Do a 25-minute sprint before you start. Secondly, it also helps you get more words down in that time, because you don’t have to worry about what you have to do next or whether your writing is any good. All you focus on is producing as many words as possible before that timer goes off.

So, if you’re a busy person, try using writing sprints here and there to increase your productivity.

4. Writing groups

Many authors enjoy the camaraderie and accountability that comes with writing with a lot of other people, whether it be in a physical space or an online group. There’s a set time everyone in the group will be writing and you keep one another company, checking up on one another’s progress and sharing motivation.

Does it increase productivity?

Not for me. This is largely a personal thing, but I actually get less writing done in the presence of other people. I’m more anxious. I get distracted by other people’s comments. And I constantly find myself wondering when the session will end. To me, writing is a solitary thing. I work best holed up in my room with no one around and no one leaving online comments about their own writing. Yes, I love checking in on others’ progress and sharing my own on Instagram, but only after my writing session has finished.

However, you may find that writing groups work for you. Maybe not being alone is just nicer for you, regardless of whether you get more words down or not. So, this one is definitely dependent on the individual.

5. Background noise

Some writers create signature playlists for each of their WIPs. Some write specific scenes to specific songs. Others use white noise or instrumentals. But it’s clear that writing with some form of background sound works for a lot of authors.

Let me start by saying that I cannot get any work done when listening to music with lyrics. So, I didn’t even try this. Instead, I tried fantasy instrumental playlists on YouTube, rainymood.com and ambient-mixer.com

Does it work?

Sometimes.

If I’m writing a fight scene, listening to epic battle music will help me write it faster. I write at my best during thunderstorms, so rainymood.com definitely increases my productivity. Ambient mixer offers a huge variety of ambient sounds to listen to, ranging from scary woods to driving with the Winchesters. “Quiet library” on ambient mixer helps a lot when I have to study, but not really when I have to write. So, yes, in certain instances, background noise helps me write faster. But, mostly, I enjoy writing in silence or with natural, real-life sounds around me.

Once again, this is purely personal. Regardless, I can definitely recommend the two websites I mentioned above.

So, that’s all I have for you today. I hope that these “reviews” can help you decide which writing hacks will work for you. Remember that my asks are always open for creative writing questions, and that post submissions are always welcome!

Reblog if you found this post useful. Comment if there are any writing hacks you’d like me to try out in the future. Follow me for similar content.

#writing #writer #writers #campnanowrimo #Writing tips #writing advice #writeblr #writeblr advice #writing's hard #amwriting

6K notes · View notes

nightwingshero · 4 years ago

Text

Stay on the Path Chapter 1

Guys, I have to say, that I’ve been having so much fun with my AU’s, really. And I know I’ve taken it pretty easy here lately with my writing because it was honestly such a struggle for me. And while I’m still working on those AU’s....I am proud to announce that it’s here. That’s right, I’ve finally gotten around to finishing the first chapter to Wren’s canon! I have so many uncompleted chapters to this, but I’m so happy to be finally posting it!

A quick thank you to @xbaebsae and @chazz-anova for sticking with me and encouraging me to keep going with this. Honestly, without you two, this would still be a WIP. So, thank you!!!

This wasn’t how I imagined my first week to go. Hope County was small. Smaller than what I was used to. I hadn’t really settled in yet, I just showed up at the station eager to jump into an easy day of training. It didn’t faze me that Hudson barely acknowledged me or that Pratt was overly excited to show me the ropes. I just wanted to put my head down and do right; to make up for the “wasted time” I spent in college. That is, according to what my father believed. His dream was to have a son who would follow in the legacy of joining the military. Unfortunately for him, none of those things happened.

When I had arrived at the jail earlier today, my black hair was in a half-assed ponytail out of convenience. I had the sleeves of my uniform rolled up, but I had the first button or two unbuttoned. I didn’t do well with uniforms. Another reason why the military would never work for me. But when I walked in and began to get settled for the day, a U.S. Marshal had stormed in with a warrant talking about “the Seed family”. I honestly didn’t understand what the hell he was talking about. I mean, I had heard the name, but I kept to myself most of the time. I didn’t get out much and we hadn’t really been on patrol since I started. The Sheriff ushered him into his office as Nancy chatted us up over donuts and coffee. They had stayed in there for hours while Nancy asked me questions about my life, and she was beginning to become a friendly face.

But that conversation with the Marshal is what led me to the helicopter I was flying in tonight. I wasn’t the epitome of a perfect cop. In fact, this whole thing was new to me. I had experience shooting guns, sure. My father wouldn’t let that slip, so I started young. But I was new to the law enforcement career. It wasn’t my dream job, but it was something I could do if it meant doing what was right, if it meant setting my life right. So, I had went to the academy. The problem was that I knew people saw right through it, which was probably why the U.S Marshal, Burke, kept throwing me looks. I honestly couldn’t help it. That was my father, not me. It made me nervous that I was taking down a such a big operation, knowing that I had little to no experience in this field, other than the classes and little training I had to do in order to even get the position. I knew how to shoot a gun, my father taught me some survival skills, but that was it. The ramblings of a mad, bitter man didn’t do me much good here.

I just continued to look at my reflection in the window, my blue-green eyes stared back at me in wonder as I took in the beautiful landscape of Hope County from this height. I huffed and began watching the video that ended up bringing Cameron Burke here in the first place. It opened nicely with interviews with a pretty woman in a bar, a Father in a church, and a guy sitting on the couch. If you asked me, he looked like a rejected member of a rock band. It was a welcome of Montana at first, and then it began to speak of a cult, but before I could really get into it, the signal cutting in and out after it showed this “Joseph Seed” gauging someone’s eyes out with his bare hands. My stomach flipped uneasily, and I frowned as the signal went completely dead.

“Hey, Blake. Blake! You’re wasting your time. No signal out here.” Whitehorse called as I looked up at him and I caught the judging eyes of the Marshal before he went back to looking over his warrant.

“We’re crossing over the Henbane now.” Pratt informed us over the radio as I looked back out the window only to see a huge statue of a man with a beard and a man bun. I didn’t know how the hell I missed that when I was coming in, but all I could do now was stare at it. This guy has been busy.

“Oh fuck. There he is.” Hudson said with pure contempt in her voice.

“Crazy motherfucker.” Pratt commented back.

“Jesus….” The Marshall breathed.

“We’re in Peggie country.” I didn’t understand what Hudson meant by calling them Peggies, but her tone gave me chills. I knew that I heard a lot of people from around the town use it, I just never thought to ask. I thought it was a Montana thing. The Marshall ignored her and looked at Sheriff Earl Whitehorse.

“How much longer?”

“Just long enough for you to change your mind,” he turned his head to Burke. “so, we can turn this bird around.” I became more tense. I still didn’t truly understand what was really going on. Sure, I’ve heard some talk about the Seed family, but I honestly never paid attention to it. Everyone always had something to say about someone, so I always stuck to myself and I’ve lived that way for years. I didn’t know how long I was going to be out here, anyways. But they were just a religious family with followers, right? They couldn’t be that dangerous, could they? The video definitely suggested otherwise.

“You want me to ignore a federal warrant, Sheriff?” He asked icily. I raised my brows in surprise at his tone towards Whitehorse.

“No, sir. I want you to understand the reality of this situation.” He shifted and looked him straight in the eye. “Joseph Seed is not a man to be fucked with.” A chill ran down my spine at the weight of his words before he continued. “We’ve had run ins with him before and they haven’t always gone our way. Sometimes…just sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.”

“Yeah, well, we have laws for a reason. And Joseph Seed is going to learn that.” With that, he tucked the warrant away and looked out the window. It almost reminded me of a small child throwing a fit. Sheriff had an almost defeated look on his face before looking over his shoulder.

“Pratt, open up a call with dispatch.”

“10-4.”

“Whitehorse to dispatch, over.”

“Go ahead, Earl.” Nancy responded immediately.

“We’re approaching the compound, Nancy. Over.” My heart leaped when I realized we were close. I began to wish that I had stayed behind with Nancy. She brought in cookies earlier and anything would have been better than this situation.

“Roger, Sheriff. Still planning on going through with this? Over.”

“We are—unfortunately—still trying to talk sense into our friend, the Marshal. Over.”

“Alright. Lucky I’m not there. If you get into any trouble, you just let me know. Over.” I couldn’t help but smile at her response.

“10-4. Over and out.” It went silent until Pratt turned to Hudson.

“Maybe we should have brought Nancy along instead of the Probie. These Peggies wouldn’t fuck with her.”

“Pratt.” Hudson scolded. I rolled my eyes as I glanced back out the window. I didn’t need reminding how new I was to this; my nerves did that for me. The Marshal turned back to Whitehorse with a bit of a frown.

“Why do they keep calling them Peggies?”

“The Project of Eden’s Gate. P.E.G. Peggie. It’s what the locals call them. They started out harmless a few years back, but now they’re armed to the teeth. They’re looking for a fight.”

“…are you scared, Sheriff?” Burke asked incredulously. I studied the Sheriff out of the corner of my eye, waiting to hear his response, but none came.

“We’re here. Compounds just below.” Pratt said and I looked to see a decent sized church and some building surrounding it as we lowered.

“Oh, my Jesus.” Burke groaned as he studied our new surroundings.

“Damn.” I breathed out in shock at the sheer size on the compound.

“Oh man, this is a bad idea.” Hudson commented to herself.

“Last chance, Marshal.” Burke sighed for a second before replying.

“We’re going in.” I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until that very moment. My heart sank at Burke’s words. I had a bad feeling about this, and I didn’t want to be here. Anxiety clawed at my insides.

“Set ‘er down.” Whitehorse ordered and I wanted nothing more than to beg him to change his mind.

“Roger that.” The helicopter began to descend all the way down and I could see people armed with assault rifles and someone with a flamethrower that was burning a pile of wood. My uneasy feeling intensified. I knew we were on private property, so technically speaking, that was legal for them to do. I didn’t know what was on the Marshal’s warrant, but that definitely couldn’t be it. They were in their rights. As the helicopter landed, Whitehorse called out to Nancy.

“Dispatch, are you still there?”

“Yeah, go ahead, Sheriff.”

“If you don’t hear from us in 15 minutes, send in everyone. Send in the goddam National Guard if you have to. Over.” The blood in my veins went cold. What the fuck did I get myself into?

“Yes sir, Sheriff. I’ll be praying for you.” We took our headsets off and Whitehorse turned to us.

“Now listen up. Three rules. Stick close. Keep your guns in your holsters. And let me do the talking. Got it?”

“Got it.” Burke replied. But I wasn’t so confident. Everything was screaming for me to stay in the helicopter. I wasn’t welcome here; I could feel that, and I hadn’t even stepped out of the copter.

“Blake?” he called. I looked at him and gave him a quick nod, not trusting my voice. “Alright everyone, stay sharp. Let’s go.” I followed their lead as we stepped out of the helicopter, even though everything in me was screaming not to. Hudson, Burke, and Whitehorse began to make their way forward. “They’ll be in the church. Stay close.” I begrudgingly began to follow behind them. They were walking at a faster pace than I was, and to be honest, I lagged a little behind out of reluctance. All the people were glaring at me and they had way bigger guns than I did. I was allowed to feel a little nervous.

“Eyes open, these folks spook easily.” Whitehorse called from over his shoulder. Hudson slowed and began to walk alongside me.

“Blake, on me. Stay loose, huh?” she said, giving me a quick look. I guess it was obvious I was that nervous. I tried my best to hide it, but my heart was pounding. It wasn’t exactly comforting to have people with assault rifles glare at you. I just gave her a quick nod in response. Apparently, it was the only way I knew how to communicate right now.

“We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“What the hell are they doing here?” Voices rang out from the people as confusion turned to anger. If Hudson hadn’t been there, I probably would have tucked tail. This wasn’t something I was used to. Sure, I could hold my own. But I came here for a fresh start. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy being in law enforcement, but I felt like things had escalated quickly for me. I wasn’t about to pick a fight with someone that carried a damn flamethrower when all I had was a service pistol. I would do anything in that moment to trade with Hudson so I could have the shotgun.

“Be calm. Stay calm everyone. Just go about your business. This doesn’t concern you.” Whitehorse said as he continued to walk confidently through the gate.

“Sheriff, I don’t like this.” Hudson chimed in, saying exactly what I had been thinking. I was new, but Hudson wasn’t, and even she was picking up on it.

“Everything is fine, Hudson. Everything is just fine.” He reassured her. It didn’t feel fine, and I desperately wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t even sure if he believed himself.

“Jesus Christ, you’re wearing badges, aren’t you?” Burke spoke out condescendingly. I frowned and felt the strong urge to punch him. He spoke a lot like my father and that wasn’t something I really wanted to listen to. This badge meant nothing. It was a piece of metal. It was person that held that weight, not the badge, and people saw through that. Especially for those who didn’t care much for authority in the first place.

“Yeah, but they don’t respect badges much out here.” Hudson shot back, confirming my fears. I couldn’t help but smile just a bit at her sharp tongue. Subtle, but sharp. Maybe one day, we could actually be friends. Maybe.

“They’ll respect a nine-millimeter.” I looked at his back with disgust. I was liking this Marshal less and less by the second. I was tempted to ask him if he knew my father, and if not, they would make a great miserable pair. There was always some sort of power play, and I had a feeling that the Marshal enjoyed that badge a little bit more than he should and for the wrong reasons.

“Not every problem can be solved by a bullet, Marshal.” I spoke out. Hudson raised a brow at me as Burke shot me a glare which I returned. Hearing a clank behind me, I look over my shoulder to find them closing the gate behind us. I swallowed with another twist in my gut. That couldn’t be a good sign, and I had the heavy feeling of our fates being sealed along with it.

We finally came to a stop right in front of the church and I could hear them singing Amazing Grace. Curiosity began to outweigh the uneasiness I had felt. Burke must have been feeling eager as he was quick to just grab the door handle, but Whitehorse stopped him before he had a chance to open it.

“Whoa Marshal. Now we do this, we do it my way. Quietly. Calmly. You got it?” he asked as Burke let go of the door.

“Fine.” He huffed. The Sheriff turned to Hudson and me.

“Hudson, on the door. Watch our backs. Don’t let any of these people get in. Blake—on me.” I was only partially excited and that was just from the curiosity, which I knew was dangerous. It was my flaw. My curiosity always got the better of me, and I have been put in some bad situations because of it. The more logical side of me wished I could have stayed outside with Hudson and her shotgun. “And you,” he turned to Burke “just try not to do anything stupid.” I caught my laugh, but I couldn’t hide the smirk that bled through. Hudson turned and nudged me with her shoulder, and I could see the laughter in her eyes. I had a feeling we were going to get along. Friends, indeed.

“Relax, Sheriff. You’re about to get your name in the paper.” The Marshal replied as he put his hand on Whitehorse’s shoulder. It became very clear as to what drove Burke: Glory. Sheriff gave him grim look and turned to the door. Hudson took a step towards me, gaining my attention again.

“You’ll be fine.” She assured me quietly.

“Thanks.” I whispered back as I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I couldn’t let my feelings get the better of me, no matter how unnerving they were. Whitehorse finally opened the door and you could see how old the church was. The singing came to an end, and I could make out the pews with a few people and a man standing on a platform in front. Light poured out of the window, giving him a glow that definitely seemed holy. Above us were dozens of empty bird cages, lightly swaying. Some had candles in them, while the others were dark and empty, all of them giving off a haunting beauty. They were strangely similar to the cage tattooed on the inside of my forearm. Too familiar. A shiver ran down my spine as I caught myself from tracing over it.

“Something is coming.” His voice rang through the church, bringing me out of my daze. “You can feel it, can’t you? That we are creeping toward the edge…and there will be a reckoning.” The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the faceless figure turned to us once the door shut behind me. He continued as we slowly made our way forward. “That’s why we started the Project. Because we know what happens next.” His voice rose an octave. “They will come. They will take from us.” Burke looked at Earl and he raised his hand in a calming manner. “Take our guns. Take our freedom…take our faith.” My heart leapt a bit as everyone in the pews began to stand as we passed them. I could see the tv monitors now that had scripture and the logo for their Project. This was Eden’s Gate. I became more nervous as I could feel the anger from their followers for our intrusion. I wanted to run and hide from their eyes. “We will not let them.”

“Sheriff, c’mon—” I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to shut up and not say another word. Abrasiveness was all Burke knew, and the last thing we need was for him to light a match in the powder keg this situation had turned into.

“Just hold on, Marshal.” Whitehorse warned.

“We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore.” We were finally close up enough to see a man with no shirt standing above everyone else. He wore yellow aviators and his long hair was in a bun. His beard wasn’t the longest, but it wasn’t short either. His jeans were worn, and his chest was covered in tattoos and scars. Out of the corner of my eye, there were people standing to the side, but I could only just take in this man: Joseph Seed.

“Sheriff…” Burke’s rang like a warning, my eyes only darting to his back briefly.

“There will be no more suffering….”

“Do not pull that trigger. Remain calm.” Whitehorse responded to him lowly.

“No. Fuck this.” Burke whipped out the warrant and faced Joseph Seed head on. I inhaled sharply through my nose and moved forward to grab Burke, my fight or flight response urging me to pull him back like the idiot he was. Whitehorse quickly placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. I glanced at the Sheriff, catching his eye in confusion. I couldn’t put a name on the look he gave me, but I knew what he was trying to tell me. Burke’s idiot decision would remain his, not mine. I took a slight step back as my attention moved back to the Marshal.

“Joseph Seed! I have a warrant for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent of harm!” I furrowed my brow and looked at him. What? My heart was racing, but the blood drained from my face. I was supposed to keep my composure. It’s one of the things that they teach you. But I couldn’t help my face contorting in disbelief. On suspicion. We had barged into a dangerous situation with a warrant due to suspicion. I clenched my teeth in frustration at the Marshal for believing he knew better than the Sheriff. “Now, I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see them.” I held my breath as I kept my eyes on Joseph, waiting to see what he would do or how he would respond. He lifted his hands and regarded us.

“There they are…the Locusts in our garden…you see, they’ve come for me.” As he spoke, all of the people in the pews began to make their way in front and around us, protecting their Father from the threat we had become. “They’ve come to take me away from you. They’ve come to destroy all that we built!” The crowd became rowdier and more aggressive. I began to feel panicked and overwhelmed, the claws of my claustrophobia wrapping around my throat, but Burke and Whitehorse held their ground.

“Alright, now. Put your guns down. Put your guns down!” Burke responded as he reached for his gun. Whitehorse and I took a step back as I watched the Marshal in horror.

“Dude, what are you—?” I called out as my hand brushed my holster, but the Sheriff put his hands up in defense, cutting me off as he addressed the mob and Burke.

“Now hold on, do not touch that service weapon and stand down! Stand down! Everyone, calm down!” Whitehorse raised his voice to try and get through the yelling and protests of the people in front of us, but it went unnoticed. Joseph stepped down, his hands finding the shoulders of some of his men, and everyone began to quiet as they turned to him.

“We knew this moment would come. We have prepared for it. Go. Go…” And just like that, they turned and began to walk out of the church as a man began to come up from behind Joseph Seed. I watched, as he walked across the platform, with another man finding his way next to Joseph. I frowned as the two men looked each other, giving a quick exchange I couldn’t quite hear, but one of the people shoulder-checked me on his way past us, pulling my attention only briefly. “God will not let them take me.” I frowned as I watched them leave, curiosity biting in the back of my mind. With just a touch on a shoulder, he had completely defused the situation.

“I saw when the Lamb opened the First Seal,” Joseph’s voice had me turning my head back to him. His hands were raised up over his head as he spoke, but he wasn’t alone. Along with the two men was a young woman with light dirty blond hair and a white dress that now stood to his left. I kept my focus on Joseph, the others “as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, come and see…”

“Step forward.” Burke sneered. Joseph dropped his hands and looked at the Marshal, allowing me a better view of the people that moved to support The Father. The man to his right had his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread as he stood firm. I knew immediately to be wary of him. Just size alone, he would be someone rough to go up against. The girl just stood there at ease, her green eyes light and scanning me with a soft smile on her face. She swayed, making her white dress move at the slightest movement. Then my eyes finally landed on the other man.

He looked younger than the other men, and I wondered if they were actually brothers. I couldn’t make out a lot from the distance, but he had dark hair and a well-manicured beard. He wore a trench coat and had a pair of blue sunglasses on his head. His eyes caught with mine as his brother eyed us, sizing us up. This guy seemed to have his hands behind his back, his head tilting back a bit, the lines of his chest flexing as more skin is revealed through his unbuttoned shirt, and a smug look on his face, completely at ease with no care in the world, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. But his smirk widened as he licked his lips, and then it occurred to me. He knew I was staring. I chided myself and I forced my eyes away as Joseph continued.

“…and I saw,” he pointed his finger in Burke’s face and I pursed my lips to keep myself from smirking. “and behold it was a white horse,” he looked at the Sheriff, before turning to me directly. I inhaled sharply at the unexpected attention. “And Hell followed with him.” A chill went down my spine as he refused to break eye contact with me. The heaviness of his words felt like it weighed down my soul. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. He then raised his hands and I stepped closer to him, unsure of what I was actually going to do. I broke eye contact only to find another pair of deep, dark blue ones staring at me with curiosity, smirk completely gone. I didn’t know what it was, I couldn’t really explain it, but the pull was there. He shifted a bit, his hands coming in front of him briefly as adjusted his coat, a quick roll of his shoulders that brought my attention back to his chest. I wanted to run up and…I don’t know. I felt like I was bare, that he could see right through me, and I didn’t know if that terrified or excited me.

“Blake,” Burke’s voice pulled me back to reality and I looked at him. “cuff this son of a bitch.” I frowned at his crass wording and glared while jutting my chin out, remembering how he pretty much fucked the entire situation. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the red head shift on his feet, throwing a glance at his other brother. Burke returned my glare tenfold, and I turned back to Joseph, not wanting to get into any more trouble I may have already been in. I hesitated, and as subtly as I could, I threw a look at the man in the trench coat again. I didn’t know why I was hesitating, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“God will not let you take me.” Joseph said confidently and I looked back at him. Something twinkled in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure as to what it was, it seemed there was a knowing intelligence that told me that perhaps I wasn’t as subtle as I thought. But his eyes were on me, too and so were everyone else’s. The last thing I wanted was for the red-haired soldier to come at me. He looked like he was ready to take on the world. I would probably weigh nothing to him. Fear danced across my neck, creating goosebumps in its wake.

“Blake! Put the cuffs on him!” Burke snapped, making me cringe. I took a calming breath before I looked back at Joseph. I was conflicted. I didn’t want things to get violent and I had a very bad feeling that they wouldn’t just let us take him, the sting of my shoulder still there. I just wanted to keep the peace.

“Put down your guns. Take your friends. Walk away.” Joseph said calmly, soothingly. I bit my lip, it was so easy to fall into his voice, to second guess everything. It did sound tempting, to just walk away and go against Burke. I could. We could. We could walk out of here like nothing ever happened. “God is watching. And he will judge you for what you do in this moment.”

“Come on, Rookie…” Burke groaned as I looked over to the Sheriff, irritated at the nickname. We both didn’t want this, right? He didn’t want things to escalate any more than I did. Would he really let us walk out of here? I continued to study the Sheriff, searching for some sort of indication. Anything. He had a look of reluctance and he clenched his jaw. I had a feeling that this was going to have to be my decision and I bit of frustration whispered in the back of my mind. “God damn it Blake, seriously? What are you doing? Asking your dad for permission?” I flinched slightly at his word choice, but I kept my focus on Whitehorse, not taking the bait. The man in the trench coat scoffed as he shifted, my eyes following his movement only briefly.

“Sheriff?” I asked, and even I could hear the doubt and uncertainty in my voice. Earl sighed in response.

“We came here for a reason, Deputy.” He replied, his eyes full of defeat as his eyes fell from mine. My shoulders caved a bit at his response, but before I could do or say anything else, Burke had elbowed me out of the way, and I stumbled to the side from being taken off guard. Joseph frowned as his siblings shifted a bit.

“Fuck this. I’ll do it my goddamn self.”

I shot him a glare, my anger momentarily pumping through my veins. The urge to mouth off to him was strong, but I held my tongue, even though his actions were uncalled for and aggressive. I took another breath as I tried to shove my retort back down my throat. Now was definitely not the time for me to run my mouth, it would only make things worse, and like it or not, he was still a superior of sorts.

“Easy, Marshal.” Whitehorse responded quickly but remaining calm. I dared a glance at the Sheriff in shock, not expecting him to defend me. I exhaled shakily as I turned, watching as Burke looked ready to blow and I bit my lip. Burke sneered as he roughly pulled Joseph forward and tightly cuffed one of his wrists. I winced at the click, but Joseph didn’t even flinch or make a sound. I took a step forward with a frown.

“You know that’s too tight.” I said lowly, but my voice echoed through the quiet church. I could feel Burke glaring at me, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted this to be over. I could feel the Seed family drilling holes into me with their piercing blue eyes.

“Who cares?” Burke sneered at me. I looked down as I fought back the tears of anger that were threatening to humiliate me in front of my superiors and our audience.

“If this is how you’re going do it, then step aside, Marshal. Deputy Blake, cuff him properly.” Whitehorse asserted. Burke’s face twisted as he took a step away from Joseph and I took a calculated step forward, my eyes watching his every move. I didn’t trust Burke, badge or not. I turned to Joseph and began to redo the cuffs, making sure they weren’t cutting off his circulation. I looked up to catch his intense stare.

“Sometimes…the best thing to do is to walk away.” He whispered to me and my heart stopped as the blood drained from my face. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. Not that Burke really gave me an option to.

“Jesus Christ. Let’s just fucking go.” He muttered and the Sheriff sighed. I put a gloved hand on Joseph’s shoulder, prepared to walk him out.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Burke groaned out his frustration and I expected him to stop me, but he didn’t. He knew we couldn’t just arrest people without reading them their rights. “anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“Yes.” Joseph replied softly.

“Let’s go.” Whitehorse turned, and began to make his way to the church doors with Burke beside him.

“Drag him if you have to.” Marshal called over his shoulder tauntingly.

“Dick.” I replied quietly to myself without thinking. A cough and a light giggle were the responses I got behind me as Joseph shot me a look from the corner of his eye. I chided myself and began to follow the two men while gently escorting the brother. Burke and Whitehorse opened the doors, and there seemed to be a start of an uproar. Hudson looked over at us in panic.

“We gotta get the fuck outta here.” She said as a truck of men pulled up with guns.

“Marshal take point. On the right.” The Sheriff ordered as I saw that the path we had taken before was closed off and sealed.

“On it.” I was honestly shocked that he took an order easily, but it was probably due to the fact that he had what he wanted, and to him, that was all that mattered.

“Stay on the path, Blake.” Whitehorse called out over his shoulder as I began to take everything in. People were starting to get more and more stirred out. Yelling out and asking about us taking “The Father”. Amazing Grace began to play loudly, and dogs were barking viciously. Once or twice I got spooked, thinking that someone was going to grab me.

“Keep up, Rookie.” Hudson called out nervously. People began to pull out their guns.

“Stand back, I’m a Federal Marshal!” Burke yelled, but that didn’t stop them. They began to swarm us, and my pace quickened. Burke and Whitehorse then pulled out their service pistols in defense as we got closer the copter. Burke shot two warning shots into the air and Hudson and I rushed quickly to the bird. Hudson jumped on and ushered me forward, helping me situate Joseph. Pratt was freaking out in the pilot seat while Whitehorse and Burke were on my tail. We finally were able to get in after Joseph was taken care of, but someone grabbed Burke and he tried shaking them off. His followers began to climb on the helicopter. I looked around, panicked and in awe. I’ve never seen anything like this. Burke ended up shooting the guy in the head, and we both began to hastily buckle ourselves in. I gagged, cutting off the scream in my throat, at the sight of the blood and gore as my hands shook, and I could feel myself slipping into a full panic attack. My hand covered my mouth to keep myself from either puking or crying out as Whitehorse was trying to call Nancy from the front, but she wouldn’t answer. Joseph just sat there calmly with his head back and sang Amazing Grace. We couldn’t shake them off, even in the air, and then a man jumped up into the wings and blood splattered all over the windshield. My stomach lurched as alarms began to blare. We began to spin out of control, and I began to hyperventilate with the panic attack getting worse, but Joseph just kept singing.

“Brace for impact—" I couldn’t hear the rest of it as we hit the ground, everything turning black, and Joseph’s voice was still singing in my ears.

The smell of smoke was the first thing that caught my attention. Then it was Nancy’s voice over the radio that made me open my eyes. My body hurt, my head pounded, and my vision was a bit blurry. Across from me, Burke hung unconscious, which explained why my head felt the way it did.

“…This is Nancy, is everything okay? Over.” I looked to my side to see Hudson in a state that was no better than mine, but when I looked for the Sheriff, he was nowhere in sight. A headpiece just hung there, swinging back and forth. “Please, are you there? Are you there? Are you there, Sheriff?” I began to panic as I noticed that the seat Joseph occupied was now empty. Where was he? My heart started to pound, and I let out a whimper as I looked around. “Deputy Hudson, if you’re there, please pick up.”

“Amazing Grace…how sweet the sound.” Ice filled my veins and I began to desperately reach for the headset.

“Deputy Pratt, are you there? Are you there?” I almost cried when my fingers wrapped around it, and I pulled it to my face. A hand stopped mine, making me gasp in shock as Joseph Seed continued to sing.

“That saved…”

“Earl? Please, come in.”

“A wretch…like me...” he finished as he studied me. Tears were streaming down my face at this point, both from the smoke and the absolute terror I felt. Joseph only had a broken nose and a few bruises on his face and his yellow tinted glasses had made it through with on a crack in one of the lenses. I was too in shock to say a word.

“Are you there? Is somebody there? Please.” Nancy was becoming more frantic and my heart broke for her. Any words I was prepared to say choked in my throat as he leaned in closer, his eyes big and bright as the bore into mine.

“I told you that God wouldn’t let you take me.” He whispered and I exhaled shakily.

“Please…I need to know what’s going on.” Nancy pleaded as she began to cry. I wanted to scream and yell, to tell her that I was alive and to send for help. Send anyone. But Joseph reached for the headset and pulled the mic to his face while staring at me.

“Dispatch…”

“Oh, my God…” Nancy breathed a sigh of relief and I frowned.

“Everything is just fine over here. No need to call anyone.” There was a split second as I held my breath, waiting for Nancy to respond.

“Yes, Father. Praise be to you.” My heart sank at her words as I realized what that meant. She tipped them off. She was a part of it. A dry sob raked through my body in disbelief and heartbreak. Joseph leaned in closer as he let go of the headset.

“No one is coming to save you.” He whispered and another sob raked through me with new tears as the empty feeling of helplessness buried itself in the pit of my stomach. A car pulled up, gaining his attention and I watched as he left the helicopter. They rejoiced at the sight of their Father and he stood on the hood of the car to address the four men that stood before him.

“The First Seal has been broken. The Collapse is upon us. And we will take what we need. And preserve what we have.” I watched as Hudson and Burke stirred awake, coughing from the smoke. A sense of relief filled me. I wasn’t alone. “And we will kill all those that stand in our way!” I caught Hudson’s eye as Joseph focused his attention on us. “And these. The harbingers of doom will see the truth.”

“We gotta get outta here...we gotta get outta here.” Burke murmured, but I wasn’t paying attention to him. I was watching Hudson, making sure she was okay. I could see Joseph addressing his flock as she processed our situation.

“Begin the reaping!” Joseph yelled with his hands spread out to the sky.

“We gotta get out of here!” Burke said urgently and I watched as Hudson began to pull and struggle at the seatbelt. I turned and began to do the same as they approached Hudson and began to tug her out.

“NO!” I tried to yell as I reached for her, but it came out as a mere croak. We clasped hands briefly, before our grip was easily broken by the men dragging her. I tried pulling on her pants leg, but she was just out of reach. “Hudson!”

“Get the fuck off me! Pratt! Pratt!” she screamed, and I realized that they were taking him, too. They kicked as they fought against their captors.

“Jesus Christ, we got to get the fuck out of here!” The men turned back to us, but before they could reach in, the flames surged forward, blocking us from them momentarily. Burke dropped down and I felt a tiny bit of hope bloom in my chest.

“Help me out!” I cried at him as he took a second to collect himself.

“Let them burn. This is God’s will. This is their punishment.” Before I could say a word, Burke took off running out of the bird and I watched in disbelief. He was leaving me behind. That little snake was leaving me to die. I began to struggle even more as panic made it hard to breathe, pulling at the buckle, begging and praying for it to come loose. I needed to run. I didn’t want to die like this. I wished more than anything that I could go back in time. I should have listened. I should have listened.

Sometimes it’s better to just walk away.

The buckle finally gave, dropping me on the roof. I winced in pain at the impact on my side. It was hot and hard to breath. Stray strands of hair clung to my face from the sweat and tears as I coughed a bit before getting to my knees and facing towards the woods. I had to run for it. I got to my feet as they finally caught on that we were free.

“Oh, whoa, whoa. Oh, hey! They’re getting away!” one of them yelled and I took a run for it. The sound of gunfire and bullets whizzing past me drove me to run faster than I ever have in my life. I dodged trees, branches, and logs as I made my way through unknown territory. I looked behind me briefly to see if anyone had followed, causing me to trip forward and hit the ground hard. I was shaking and my limbs felt like jelly. I was dizzy from the blood rushing to and from my head, and I vomited from the turning of my stomach. I steeled my resolve and stood again. I had to keep going. If I stayed there, I was going to either get caught or killed. Maybe both, if Joseph’s words rang true. All I could do was keep stumbling forward as I wiped my mouth on the back of my gloved hand.

It was super dark out, but the moon was bright enough to allow me to at least see my surroundings. I could see a cabin on my left, and I ducked down to avoid being spotted. I don’t know what had happened, but my pistol was gone. I was unarmed and definitely in over my head. I could hear them shouting in the distance, hunting us down. My radio came alive, making me jump clean out of my skin.

“Hello…? Anyone hearing me? Hello? It’s Burke…Hello?” I had a mix of emotions as his voice came through. Relief that he had made it out alive but pissed off that he had left me behind. I also didn’t want to be out here alone, so knowing that he was out here too made me feel just a bit better. “I think I lost them. I see a…a trailer nearby. It’s next to a long bridge. I’m gonna try and get inside…if anyone’s still out there…Listen, if anyone is still alive, meet me there.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I spotted the bridge through the trees. He wasn’t far. I picked up my pace as best as I could and made my way to the steep incline, my muscles protesting in agony. Once I reached the top, I bent over to catch my breath. I almost cried in relief at the sight on the trailer once I started to walk over the bridge, but I honestly didn’t think I had any tears left. Exhaustion threatened to seep in, but I forced myself to keep going. I jogged lightly the closer I got, the trailer door a beacon of safety. I pushed it open and turned just as Burke yelled and grabbed my neck. I screamed in response as I tried to push him away. His eyes widened in realization and his grip loosened.

“Jesus Christ, Blake. I’m sorry…I thought they got you. Come on.” He stumbled back and motioned for me to follow him through another door. “Check the room.” He pointed to a bedroom on our right and as I looked in, I could see pictures and posters all over the walls. Pictures of the Father and Eden’s Gate. As I turned to take in the rest of the house, I realized how much of a mess it was. Burke was sneaking around, like some sort of burglar and had it been any other scenario, I would have laughed. He turned to me, pale and panting. The ashen tint on his face showed just how freaked out he was, which wasn’t reassuring in the slightest.

“Oh Jesus! I had no idea.” And I just stared at him. No idea? I wanted to yell, to scream at him that Whitehorse had warned him, but I didn’t really have the energy to do so, the panic attack and adrenaline slowly starting to wear off. Whitehorse told him that we shouldn’t do it, but Burke wanted the glory. His pride was more important. He turned to the wall of framed pictures and pointed. “Fuck!” He approached the wall as I finally caught sight of what he was looking at. It looked like a family photo that was professionally done, but Burke yanked it off the wall before I could get a closer look and looked me in the eye. “We’re putting this whole family away. All of ‘em. Fucking lunatics!”

He threw the frame down in anger and stomped away. I took a step closer to the table to actually get a look of the photo. Joseph sat in a chair in the middle, back straight with no emotion whatsoever. The girl sat on the floor to his right, with her arm on his leg. The red-haired brother stood behind Joseph with a red sniper rifle in his hands, and I couldn’t help but praise myself for not doing anything too stupid in the church. I couldn’t say the same about the Marshal though. Lastly, the youngest brother leaned against the back of Joseph’s chair with a book in his hand.

“We’re going to get out of this, Rookie. First things first, we gotta arm ourselves.”

“What’s the plan?” I finally asked as I looked back up at him and followed. I didn’t want to follow him, deep down, but I didn’t have a choice. I was way over my head, and I knew I couldn’t get out of this alone. He picked up a rifle and shoved it in my hands before grabbing the pistol for himself. I followed him as he approached a window and crouched down.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” He blew on the ammo cartridge before slapping it into the butt of his pistol before holstering it. “There’s a road out there. We’re gonna take it, and head Northeast. It’s probably only a few hours back to Missoula. And then,” he turned and grabbed my shoulder. I bit my tongue from biting his head off for daring to touch me. “we’re gonna come back here with the damn National Guard. And we’re gonna take out the rest of these—"

He was cut off by a couple of voices outside the trailer. I frowned. How did they find us so quickly? My eyes widened as it dawned on me. They took Hudson and Pratt, which meant they probably had their radios, too. If I had heard Burke’s message, then they had as well. I clenched my jaw in frustration. I wanted to strangle the Marshal for his constant stupidity, him and that joke of a warrant. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I looked at Burke with a twist of my mouth. “You idiot—"

“They came around this way!”

“Check inside the trailer!”

“Shh!” Burke whispered lowly as he motioned towards the other window. I gave a quick nod before I began my way over.

“They’re in there!” someone yelled as a rock was thrown through the window. I covered my face as glass exploded, landing on the carpet. I looked out to see a bunch of men running around, taking cover, and shooting at us with their own rifles. Great. Way to get your feet wet, Wren. Burke quickly ran to the other window on my side and began to return fire. To say the least, I was fucking terrified. I have done a lot of shit in my life, but I had never done this.

Aiming out the window, I tried to only land wounding shots instead of kill shots. I wasn’t prepared to take a life. I put my head down, made it through the academy, did everything I had to in order to get my life back on track. To get away from the shitty past. This wasn’t something I had asked for. The AR was digging into my shoulder, and I wondered briefly if I was holding it incorrectly. Burke cursed under his breath before jumping out through the window. As I returned fire, a stray bullet hit a red metal canister, causing an explosion that blew people off their feet.

I took advantage and followed Burke, trying to stay close enough to keep both of us protected. As much as I couldn’t stand him, I knew we were better off sticking together. The rush and panic were back, my heart pounding hard in my chest. Burke dashed, yelling me to cover him, as he ran towards a white truck.”

“Cover you with what?!” I shrieked, paranoid that he was going to take off without me, so I run towards the truck after him.

He was cursing, trying to get the thing started, throwing me an incredulous look as I yanked open the passenger door. “I told you to cover me!” he hissed.

“And give you a chance to leave me again?” I snapped, throwing him a look, finally losing my patience and giving into the fear that was pumping in my veins…I wasn’t keeping my mouth shut anymore, not after the shit he kept pulling. “Not likely.”

He grumbled something about not doing it again with a half-assed apology, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was watching the next wave of cultists running towards us, clinging tightly to the gun in my hands. With a victorious yell, the truck started just as a bullet ricocheted off the door next to my head. I quickly ducked in the cab of the truck as he slammed on the gas.

“Up ahead, watch it!” Burke yelled and I looked up to see two of them shooting at us, but Burke just pressed the gas harder. “Hold on!”

He rammed the truck into the chain-link gates, tearing it down as the yelling and gunshots faded behind us. I was drenched in sweat, my breathing quick. “Holy fuck.” I breathed out, one hand gripping on the door handle and the other cradling my rifle.

“You ok?” Burke asked, throwing me a glance. I gave a quick nod before his attention went back to the road. “Nice work back there. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. We gotta get back…but we gotta be smart. We don’t know who we can trust…fucking Nancy.”

“Fucking Nancy.” I echoed with malice. I hadn’t gotten super close with Nancy, but her betrayal still stung. She was so nice, praising and talking about the niece she was so damn proud of all the time. She welcomed me into that station with open arms.

“Oh no…oh no, they got the roads blocked.”

“They what?” My eyes widened as I took in the amass of trucks and concrete blocks. I could see barbed wire and stop signs in the back of a few. The cultists turned to us, and opened fire. “Oh shit!”

“Shoot!!” Burke shouted at me, and I pulled the rifle up, aiming out of the window. Of all the things I expected from a small town, this definitely wasn’t one of them. I wanted to cry, curl up in a ball, and set on the floorboard of the truck. I was done with this shit, but I tried my best to defend us as Burke drove like a damn madman.

“For the Father!” A man shouted as two white trucks showed up out of nowhere, shooting at us.

“Behind us, keep them off us!” Burke yelled.

The panic was starting to spread again, from the yelling and the gunfire, it was just all too much. And then I see a burst of red on a windshield, the white truck swerving and hitting the other. But all I could think of was the blood. I killed someone...I just fucking killed someone! My chest pulled painfully as my eyes swam with tears.

“Jesus Christ, we can’t get around it! Hold on, we gotta get off the main road.” Burke jerks the truck roughly, knocking me back from the window and my thoughts. I gasped as he ran through a fence, pieces of metal and wood flying. “They keep coming, Blake! Get back out there!”

“How about you focus on not getting us killed?” I snapped as he flew off a hill, the truck slamming against the ground.

“Could say the same to you!” he retorted. “There’s a case of dynamite in the back of the truck, use it!”

“What?!”

He didn’t answer as I popped my head back out, eyeing the back to see an open wooden box. The sticks of dynamite were everywhere, strewn around from all the momentum, so I could only reach a few without falling. Burke swerved, and I gripped the truck tighter, praying to whatever higher being there was that I wouldn’t die like this.

The shooting continued as I, finally, made it securely back into the somewhat-safe interior of the truck. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a metal litter as my hands shook violently, flipping the top and lighting one of the sticks to throw. I wouldn’t normally condone this kind of thing, and nor have I ever done this, but my instinct to survive was above everything else. My body was just reacting, and my mind was still miles behind, with that red stained truck.

I would never claim to have the best aim in the world, but trying to throw something out of a moving vehicle, hanging out of the window, with a bulky rifle against you…well, it wasn’t the best. Most that I threw went off too late or landed too far away. Burke’s curses joined the choir of gunfire and the shocks on the old truck as it rumbled along. Then it was joined by an odd sound that I didn’t recognize.

“John’s here!” Someone yelled.

Who the fuck was John?!

“Is that a fucking plane? Don’t tell me they got fucking air support!” Burke yelled, slamming his hand against the wheel.

My face twisted in confusion as I tried to adjust my rifle, but I froze, eyes wide, as I saw what Burke was screaming about. I didn’t know much about planes, and I would never pretend to, but the black one I saw was gorgeous. Or at least, from what I saw of it before it started shooting at us, coming a little too close for my comfort. Quickly flipping off the plane, I went back to fending off Peggies in trucks and ATVs, people shooting us from the side of the road. The plane made another round, Burke doing what he could to avoid getting us killed.

“Motherfucking psychopaths!!” Burke screamed as he drove straight towards a roadblock. “Motherfucking Peggies!!”

“Burke, we’re not going to make that!” I yelled over the chaos. The truck was already trashed, I wasn’t sure how much it could take, but it wasn’t just that. It was the fact he was going to crash us into a fucking roadblock. I tried hard to keep the flashbacks at bay, fear overcoming the adrenaline.

We hit it head on with a huge bang, but somehow, we were still going. Burke straightened out, slamming the gas again to speed back up as we approached a bridge. Relief and hope dared to spread in my chest until a truck cut in front of us, laying down heavy fire. What the fuck was wrong with this county?!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me?!” he roared beside me.

“Is that…what is that?!” I screamed. “A mounted machine gun?”

He was about to answer until the color drained from his face. “Oh no—”

I turned just in time to see a glimpse of the plane and the explosion quickly after. I screamed as the Marshal jerked the wheel, launching us right into a free fall. My heart stopped and my breathing was caught in my throat as we nosedived towards the river. Flashes of memories buried deep flew in my mind: broken glass, the deployed airbag, the pain, the blood…

Gasping quickly, the truck landed hard in the water, the cab filling quickly through the open window. I’m too shocked to move at first as I watch Burke shoot out the windshield with his pistol. He moves forward, and I reach out to grab him in desperation, but he’s already swimming away. I clench my teeth in rage as I finally free myself from the seat belt.

I’m running out of air as I swim up, breaching the surface with a loud gasp, trying to breathe in as much as my lungs can handle. It’s a struggle, but I make my way to the riverbank, my muscles screaming. I whimper as I crawl, my body finally giving out from under me, and I collapse, rolling on my back. My focus is in and out as I fight to stay awake. The adrenaline, the panic, everything has left me numb and cold, pushed way past my limits.

“Let me go!!! I’m a federal Marshal—”

Burke’s words are cut off with the sound of him getting hit with something a distance away and I scoff. Fucker deserved that. “This one needs a little faith…look along the banks, there was another one. We need to take them to the Father.”

I groan as an older man came into view. My vision was too blurry to make out any features and I cough then take another deep breath. I don’t have the energy to say a word to this man, let alone fight him when he starts to drag me away. The last thing I see before my vision goes black is the starry night, wondering where the plane went.

#deputy wren blake #joseph seed #john seed #faith seed #jacob seed #Far Cry 5 #my writing #stay on the path #IT'S FINALLY HERE

59 notes · View notes

mrcleanheichou · 4 years ago

Text

Forever and ever chapter 2

When two young people fall in love others often call it puppy love. A love so intense that ultimately fizzles out very quickly. No one believes someone so young could fall for someone so fast and have it be genuine until they see it with their own eyes.

Pairing Cowboy!Jungkook x reader

Genre fluff, angst, eventual smut

Word count 2K

Warnings Mention of a boner

Author’s note soooo long time no see lol I am such a bad fic writer, I literally start a WIP and don’t touch it for months. I have 4 WIPs that I bounce between when i get writer’s block. Slowly but surely I want to start writing consistently so I can get better. So I offer to you my Bangtan cowboy yeehaw fic. I really want to read cowboy fics but there’s barely anything so I decided to be the change I wanted to see in the world and wrote my own.

Here’s chapter 1

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

1 week later Jungkook had just finished working on sections of the barbed wire fence with Jimin when he saw his hyung Jin getting the wagon ready. As soon as he put the roll of extra wire and his gloves back in the shed he jogged over to Jin. “Hyung! Are you going to town?”, He asked a little too loud making the horse Jin was hooking up to panic a little. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re ok.”, Jin says trying to get the horse back under control. Once he gets the nervous animal to calm down he looks toward the sweaty young man. “Yeah, I have to go to the market. Do you want to go?”Jungkook said yes a little to excitedly. “Ok, but go wash up. You stink.”

Jungkook hurried to the room he shares with Taehyung in the large ranch house where all seven of the men who work on Bangtan cattle ranch live.

**~~~~~~~~~** The whole operation is split four ways between the four older men. Namjoon and Yoongi run the majority of everything between Yoongi finding buyers for their livestock and Namjoon negotiating deals. They are both very knowledgeable cattlemen despite being in their mid twenties. They do not let other cattlemen try to dupe them because they think they’re young and gullible. Multiple times meetings have almost come to blows since the older men don’t like being shown up by the quick witted duo. The other partners are Jin and Hoseok. Jin takes care of feeding six very hungry mouths. He is a very good cook and he is also very skilled at fixing leather. He makes money on the side by fixing bridles and saddles for other people. Then there’s Hoseok who used to be a bronco rider on the rodeo circuit and now he uses his skills to break in young horses. Jimin and Taehyung were a couple of trouble makers that would do little odd jobs and play cards to get money to drink and entertain the women at multiple saloons almost every night. They ended up at the same poker table as Yoongi one night 6 years ago. They got to talking and he told them about needing workers on his ranch. Jimin automatically said no. He was very against that idea since he didn’t want to do actual hard labor in the sun. Taehyung was more open to the idea of a consistent pay check. Yoongi made them a bet. They’d play three rounds of ‘7-card-stud’ and if Yoongi beat them at least two times then he’d stop asking. But if he did beat them then they both had to come work for him. They took the bet and obviously Yoongi won. Although Jimin still to this day swears Yoongi cheated. Jungkook’s story is a little different. He made the 50 mile journey to Coyote Creek from his family’s farm after one of many fights he had with his father. When his mother died his father turned to alcohol to drown the pain. He became a monster of a man and resented the fact that Jungkook looked like his mother. The only time an argument turned physical was right before Jungkook ran away. He accidentally burnt the dinner he was making. His father immediately got up and grabbed Jungkook by the shirt and yelled in his face about how useless he was. He told him he regreted ever having him and that he has never loved him. When Jungkook started crying his father slapped him across the face. That was the final straw for Jungkook. As soon as his father was too drunk to even know where he was, he started packing some of his things and stole some money his father’s stash in his closet. He raided the storehouse for as much essential foods that he could reasonably transport and packed it all up onto one of their horses. Taking one final look back at his childhood home, Jungkook finally stopped fighting his tears. He sobbed, allowing himself to mourn the loss of both his mother and father. Once he calmed down he got on his horse and left his old life behind. At the age of 14 Jungkook set off for a better life. It took him two days to reach the town where he promptly started asking around for a job. Unfortunately no one was interested in hiring him, even for simple jobs. After six days he was out of cash, hungry and desperate. He went to the horse auctions and was going to sell his horse to survive when a man who was wearing an expensive looking black cowboy hat asked him why he looked so sad. Jungkook told him he couldn’t get money any other way and he had no home to return to. The man gave him a sympathetic look and told him to stay where he was. That he’d be right back. A few minutes later he came back with a shorter man in tow. “My name is Namjoon and this is Yoongi.”, the other man tips his hat at Jungkook “I’d like to make you an offer.” Jungkook was about to say thank you when Namjoon cut him off, “But, I don’t want the horse. We’re looking for a new ranch hand and you look like a hard worker. Would you like to come work for us?” Jungkook immediately says yes. “What’s your name kid?” “Jungkook.” “Where are your parents?” Yoongi asked looking concerned. When Jungkook looked down at the ground trying to come up with an answer Yoongi put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” The two men take Jungkook with them to purchase the two horses they came to the auction for. They then head out for the ten mile ride it takes to get back to their ranch. Namjoon notices that Jungkook’s face looks sunburnt so he asks him if he needs a hat. “No, no it’s ok you don’t have to give me anything, I’m fine.” Namjoon pays him no mind as he takes the obviously expensive hat off his head and places it on Jungkook’s. “Every man needs a good hat.” Six years later Jungkook still wears it. **~~~~~~~** Jungkook took his time looking through his clothes. He finally chose a white button up, the pair of jeans he never wears when he does work and his nice town boots. After he washed up and changed he walked back to where Jin was waiting for him. ”You know we’re just going to town for supplies right?” Jin commented looking him up and down while Jungkook climbed onto the wagon next to him. Jin himself was wearing his work overalls that had leather oil on them. “Yeah, I just felt like dressing up that’s all.” Jin just shrugged and snapped the reigns to get the horse to start moving. When they got into town Jungkook immediately looked toward the school and was disappointed when it seemed like no one was there. Dejectedly, Jungkook got off the wagon and followed Jin to the first shop. “Ok, I made a you a list so we can split up and get it done faster”, Jin said handing Jungkook a piece of paper leaving him in front of the farmer’s market. Jungkook sighed and went into the shop that housed fruits and vegetables and opened the door. He grabbed a woven hand basket from the counter and went for the first item on his list. Apples. Not just any apples either, Jin wrote ‘***GOOD APPLES***’ Which caused Jungkook to stand confused in front of all the different types of apples for a few minutes. “What the hell does ‘good apples’ even mean? I thought all apples were good.” “Would you like some help?”, A sweet sounding voice asked. Jungkook looks to the side and almost gasped when he saw who was talking to him. It was the school teacher, she was stunning up close and her eyes were exceptionally beautiful. She smiles at him and he swears he felt his heart skip a beat. “You seem a little out of your element here.” “Y-yeah.”, Jungkook manages to say while trying to not stare at the woman. He doesn’t know why he’s so infatuated with her. He doesn’t even know her. “Do you know what kind of apples you want?” Jungkook feels his face getting hot because, no. Jin just wrote apples and there’s a bunch of different kinds in front of him. “No, my hyung didn’t write down what kind he wanted.” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I’m completely lost.” “That’s ok, can I see your list? Maybe I can try to guess what he’s making and get you the right apples for it.” Jungkook handed her the shopping list and their hands briefly touched causing Jungkook to completely stop breathing. The woman started reading the list and mumbling to herself with a look of concentration. Jungkook thought it was was the cutest thing ever. “Ok! I think he’s gonna be making apple pie because he wrote down; flour, sugar, cinnamon, salt, and butter. But you can’t get that here today. Mr. Lee only comes to town with his milk and butter 3 times a week so you’ll have to come back for that tomorrow. But we can definitely get your ‘Good Apples’ today.”, she giggled and he looked at her in awe. How could someone so lovely actually talk to him. He almost felt unworthy of being in her presence. “Ok so I’m going to be biased and get you the apples I personally think are the best for pie. If your Hyung doesn’t like them then tell me and I’ll give you money for different ones.” she said looking over her shoulder at a nodding Jungkook. “I love these ones. They’re ‘Pink Lady’ apples.”, she says grabbing a small light red apple “They’re Sweet but not too sweet. They make the pie come out much better than green apples and their name sounds classy.” She handed it to Jungkook and started picking out the best apples from the pile. After finding 6 perfect apples she put them in the basket he was carrying. Once again accidentally touching him In the process. Jungkook completely froze, he felt as if he was shocked by electricity. “I can help you with rest of your things” the woman said looking up at the poor awestruck man. “I mean only if you want me to...” she added when Jungkook just stared at her without answering worrying that she might have been intruding. Jungkook just nodded, he couldn’t trust himself to speak without fumbling over his words. The woman smiled and spent the next 30 minutes helping him with the rest of Jin’s list. After Jungkook payed the two made their way to the wagon. “Thank you for helping me. I would have been lost for a long time.” “You’re welcome” the teacher smiled at him brightly. “It was my pleasure. By the way what’s your name Mr apple pie?” “Jungkook” the woman pondered that for a second before extending her hand. “I’m y/n” Jungkook silently hoped she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his hand was. If y/n did she didn’t say anything about it while grasping his calloused hand with her smaller and much softer hand. Jungkook felt ashamed when his thoughts immediately when to a dirty place when he imagined her soft hands touching him somewhere else. Mentally slapping himself he snapped out of it before he, as Jimin liked to call it, popped a boner. “Well, Mr. Jungkook, I’ll see you at the school house bright and early tomorrow” she said while turning to walk away. When y/n was gone Jungkook raised his hand to his face to make sure this was all real. With his luck this would end up being a dream. At least it would has been a really good dream. He must have zoned out for a while because he was startled back to reality by Jin clapping him on the shoulder, “Stop staring into la la land and help me tie everything down.” Jungkook took one last look at his hand, “You were right hyung” ...’love at first sight does exist.’ “I’m always right. I don’t know why you’re barely realizing that now”

#Jungkook reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook reader smut #Jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #Jungkook reader fluff #BTS reader fluff #BTS reader #BTS smut #BTS reader smut

42 notes · View notes

crqstalite · 4 years ago

Text

astrophile. (me2)

notice: i ended up taking saudade down for a little...say creative redirection. it’ll come back up as soon as i find something i’m actually happy to post, until then, take this.

i was also tagged for wip monday, and since i sort of churned this out in about four-ish hours between episodes of mythic quest, i totally think it counts. @that-wasnt-so-bad + @rpgwarrior4824

cw: character death (and description of that + anxiety). word count: 2,539.

follow up: lacuna.

They said there'd be a light.

"Shepard!"

Joker's voice. Strangled as she hit the force close button as hard as she can, metal doors clamping shut over his wide, terror-stricken eyes.

Lights flash by her vision as the force throws her backwards from the wreckage of the Normandy, hurtling away from the ship that'd become her home. It knocks the wind out of her, sweat dripping down her face in rivers as she tries to regain a sense of balance. There's no tether to yank her back, nothing she can do.

There's no sound in space.

She can't hear anything but her own breathing, the alarms going off in her head as the stars spiral before her in a dizzying array. Red and orange paint her vision as she watches, fires raging over the mangled metal, desperately clawing out for something to hang onto while her vision darts to anything she can focus on. Anything she could cling to.

Normandy is still painted in big bold letters.

It disappears when she spins around again.

Everyone made it off, she thinks. Everyone she could think of. She wracks her brain before coming to the conclusion she'd stepped over a few corpses of crew members on her way out. Pressly had been dead on the ground of the cockpit when she'd stepped inside to find Joker.

She's weightless.

But she's alive.

Her comm crackles for a moment in her earpiece, someone trying to connect. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prays her alien crewmates knew their protocol if something went wrong. What she'd do if on top off Ashley only a few months ago, that she'd lose them too. Who would she contact when she got back to the Citadel? Matriarch Benezia was dead, she wasn't sure who Liara's next of kin was. Tracking down Garrus' father through spectre resources couldn't be too difficult. While the flotilla was hard to find, getting a message out to them would be easier. Wrex, Wrex she wasn't sure.

She'd seen Kaidan leave after she'd forced him to. As her XO, she hoped he wouldn't put her over the crew. She'd never forgive herself if he did, if he'd died trying to circle around to come and get her. She didn't want to think about what she'd say to his family.

Her thoughts are the only thing that ground her for that moment. Focus on what she could do, what she would do, not what she thought was going to happen. That would be when panic set in, and that would be when she started making stupid choices that'd hurry along her death faster. She was trained for this, she could handle it. Her blood is rushing through her ears, trying to take a breath in. She goes over the small list in her head, trying to compartmentalize her fear. Omni-tool, send out an SOS. The air tank would have to last until someone found her. Until someone found the Normandy's escape pods. She doesn't know who to pray to if that was the case.

But she has control of the situation. She knows what will happen. No curveballs. She could do this. Had even had the same situation happen during N7 training, the same feeling of being a little out of control. Zero gravity, an endurance test. People flunked, she didn't. All she needed to have was a feeling of control and she could get this done. There was just an arbitrary timer clicking in the back of her mind, connected to the rescue ships instead of her instructor's omni-tool.

She lifts her arm, her omni-tool orange UI fuzzing out.

There's a popping noise she can barely make out as the galaxy throws itself back a her. In a split second, her heart stops when she puts two and two together. Her hands immediately go up to the back of her helmet, desperately trying to figure out where the rip was. Her breathing quickens when she does find it on the cord to the back of her helmet. Split completely in two, probably by the blast or rogue piece of shrapnel, and while she can't feel it, she knows her life force is seeping out along with her air supply.

They say life flashes before your eyes when you're on the brink.

It does, nearly like a blinding vid she can't rip her eyes away from. Comparable to that of the vision the beacon on Eden Prime had given her, all too fast within those few seconds she makes the sickening realization she was about to die. Hopelessness sets in, as much as she tries to beat it back. Moments with her mother, her stepfather, her siblings. Her sister's return from Jump Zero, her brother's first steps. Her graduation from high school, her graduation from the N7 program. Elysium, the people she'd lost. Her first meeting with Anderson. Her first time aboard the Normandy. Eden Prime. Virmire. Ilos.

Characterized by people. Her mother, so proud of her for finishing the N7 program in her footsteps. Her stepfather, holding her close after Elysium. Her sister, visiting with cookies while she was in the hospital. Her brother, desperate to follow after her in the military. Ashley's smiling face with her weapons laid in a row on her workbench. Liara bent over her work in the back room behind the medbay, deep in thought. Wrex thumping her hard on the back for a job well done. Garrus, thanking her for what she'd done for him. Tali, excited and thankful when she'd handed the geth data over to her. Joker, ever confident and ever glad she put her trust in him.

Kaidan, waiting for her after every mission.

Kaidan, with his stories of Jump Zero.

Kaidan, with his beautiful mind and biotics that amazed her.

Kaidan, with his encouraging words.

Kaidan, and every gentle touch and word that he gave her.

Kaidan.

She should've done more, should've left more of a mark on the galaxy. She should've said something else. Told everyone how happy she was to work with them. Spent a little more time on Earth with her family. Said something, anything else to Kaidan before he left. Maybe, just maybe, if she'd moved faster she could've gotten Joker and herself out of there together.

It's pointless to play the what-if game with this situation, and she knows it. She wants to hold onto it. Wants that control back, wants to cement herself into fasten the cords together so she can have a few more hours.

She doesn't know how to fix this, not without tools, not without the graceful fingers that were ripped away from her by a terrifying feeling of her chest constricting in on itself. Static fills her ears, black clouding the edges of her vision and she coughs and sputters then and there. Someone's talking to her, she thinks. Maybe she's going crazy. Someone, anyone, is shouting her name, she thinks.

She's choking, suffocating. Air won't come as a cold feeling creeps over her fingers and toes, trying to respond to who it is. She wants to give her name, her designation, anything. Her heart throbs in her chest, painful with every breath she fails to take.

She's going to die.

She's going to die, alone and suffocating watching her ship go down right before her.

She's going to die.

She's still trying to fix the broken link, still trying to save herself even if she knows it's futile. Her eyes burn with tears, her fingers stiffen in her gloves, her arms fall back to her sides. It feels as if someone is sitting directly on her chest as her gasps for air burn her throat. Her omni-tool had been damaged in the attack, that much she knows when it finally pulls up on her wrist, a gentle, orange glow in the dark. On another channel, she can barely make out that it's reading her own vital signs back to her. A warning, that her oxygen levels were dangerously low. She thinks.

She's beginning to lose conscious thought. She can't see the edges of her helmet anymore, her nerves completely shot as she loses feeling in her feet. She's freezing, hypothermia would set in once she finally closed her eyes.

There's no fanfare when it happens, no bright, glowing light at the end of the tunnel. No ghost of her grandmother or God forbid Ashley coming to take her to the other side. She doesn't see the gates of heaven or the gates of hell. Whoever is shouting for her is the last thing she hears, the stark black of space and uncharted stars surrounding her when her light dies. Where everything fades to black.

Then there's nothing.

They said there'd be a light.

There's a light when she comes back to.

Except it's too bright.

All her senses are overwhelmed at once, her body is on fire with all of the different textures rubbing against her skin. She's cold, then she's hot. She can't see, the white light bearing down on her blinding her as she squeezes her eyes shut again, trying to alleviate the burning. She can't make sense of her surroundings, why is this happening, aren't I dead, and she can't move her limbs they feel like lead.

There's shuffling as she tries to make sense of the situation. Sounds.

Why can I hear if I'm dead? Why can I feel this infuriating and painful sense of something over my skin? Why does everything hurt?

It's all muted. The pain that flares up everywhere on her body, it's recognizable to just after the Blitz, the battle for the Citadel. Feeling the pain just ebbing at her consciousness, waiting for the painkillers to die and fall over her like a tidal wave in the middle of a hurricane.

Her heart pounds like a drum against her rib cage. It hurts, she's so aware of it. A rhythmic thump that only hastens once she starts to acknowledge it.

I'm dead.

"There, on the monitor. Something's wrong." A feminine voice then. She wants to scream, wants to lift herself off wherever she is. Why am I alive? Is this heaven? Hell? Things are coming back into focus all in a rush, metal ceiling above her and the cold of steel on her arms.

It's a nightmare. It has to be, "She's reacting to outside stimuli. Showing awareness of her surroundings."

A masculine voice. They're coming from just on her left...no her right. She thinks. She doesn't know. Her focus is consumed on moving something, anything, just to ignore everything coming at her. The sounds, the beeping, the incessant beeping threatens to drive her mad as it invades her mind.

She forces her eyes back open, "Oh my God, Miranda. I think she's waking up."

Miranda.

She holds onto the name, committing it to memory, trying to force her lips apart to say something. Say anything. Where are the muscles she has to use for that again? Her voice box, right, that made noise. Except she can't, her lips move but nothing comes out. She tries again, a choking sound joining the beeping of the machine.

She remembers. She remembers everything as soon as she tries to talk again, a scratching feeling destroying her throat. Growing colder, and colder and colder and colder until she can't feel anything. Struggling to breathe, trying desperately to just hang onto life for a few seconds longer.

Lights turn into stars. The ceiling turns into space, contorting before her. Fire looms.

She can't breathe.

Someone comes up beside her on her left side. Her right side. Left. Dark haired, blurry. Pale skin. White shirt. It blurs again while she tries to focus, then wrenching her head to the right. Left. Right again. Another person. Bald. Dressed in white. Blurry.

The beeping gets quicker, the stars hurtle towards her.

"Damn it, Wilson. She's not ready yet! Give her the sedative!" The feminine voice again. Accented, she thinks. Her chest compresses, laboring for another breath. She's back in space. Weightless. Scared shitless. Alone.

Why am I here? How am I here? Who's Miranda? What is she about to do me whoisWilson-

Her senses sharpen as she panics, adrenaline flooding her veins. She throws her arm out, floundering for something, anything to hold onto. She's scared, trying to make sense of the situation. Where are her parents? Her siblings? Anderson maybe? Chakwas, the doctor. Why wasn't she here? Is she even really alive? Is this some joke being played on her? Judgement for her past sins maybe? The dark haired woman comes back to her side. Watching her strain over and over again before gently taking her hand and pushing it back down to her side against her will, "Shepard -- don't try to move."

Howdoyouknowmyname?Whoareyouwhyareyouherestoptouchingme-

Her heart's nearly about to stop, it feels more like a jack hammer jamming in her chest, like a mass relay about to throw a ship into another system. The beeping joins the symphony of chaos, screaming like she is inwardly, "Just lie still. Try to stay calm."

Her voice is calm, velvety. Trying to soothe her shot nerves. Sparks feel like they're flying on her skin, blue dancing across her vision as the woman tries to hold her down, something on her left, right pushing into her arm with a prick. Something gets thrown, hits the ground and feels like it shatters her eardrums. Another object, "Heart rate still climbing. Brain activity is off the charts. Telekinesis is unconscious."

The masculine voice again. With interest. With concern.

Her thoughts are beginning to churn together, the world smudging together in splatters of grey as sweat dots her forehead. The blue grows stronger, electricity running up her spine, something else crashes into what she believes is a wall. I'mdeadIshouldbedeadwhatisthis, "Stats pushing into the red zone. It's not working!

The dark haired woman walks around her. Clicking on the floor that sounds like gunshots to her as her ears feel like they're about to explode from the onslaught of sound. She pushes the man out of the way after she throws her head left. Right, "Another dose. Now!"

Ican'tbreathe.

I'mdying.

Another prick. Just as she's sure she's to die again, the world blurs back into an incomprehensible mess of madness. But the beeping slows. It quiets. The clicking of the woman's heels softens. Her senses begin to drown in sedation. Her eyes start to flutter close, as she struggles against whatever is putting her to sleep. She can't go to sleep now, she has to know what's going on. But lifting her hand is difficult, moving her fingers is out of the question. The blue fades from her surroundings, "Heart rate dropping. Stats falling back into normal range."

The dark haired woman again. On her left. No, her right. Surely her right. Her face is still sharp, blurry around the edges where she eclipses the light above her. Pale skin, blue eyes, pink lips. Black hair falling over her shoulders. White shirt. She seems curious, unsure.

Miranda?

"That was too close, we almost lost her." The masculine voice again.

She thinks Miranda is observing. Watching her. But who is Miranda? Why is she watching her? And Wilson? Wasn't she dead? Where's the Normandy? Joker? Kaidan?

"I told you your estimates were off. Run the numbers again, we can't have her flaring on us when this is all finished, we nearly lost the lab." The woman says again, turning away from her. The illusion becomes unrecognizable, the woman little more than a child's painting of pale tan and black. She looks back down at her.

Again, she's thrown back into unconsciousness.

Nothing.

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect 2 #cw: character death #possible anxiety cw?#just tread lightly ig

12 notes · View notes