#mind as if i was searching for the last drop of water in the desert 😂😅😅

[myheroesfading]

x

[dancingtotuyo]

High Infidelity Part V

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: Tommy is released, but he only pushes you further into Joel's arms.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: prison, mentions of war, fighting, LOTS OF TEARS, emotional and physical affair, cheating boundaries, smut (P in V), Oral sex (F receiving)

Notes: And so we reach the end of this story. I know there's a lot to wrap up. Thank you all for all your amazing comments and thoughts over the last month. It really means the world to me.

I know I say this every chapter but a huge thanks to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. They have beta'ed every chapter one top of listening to me scream about this story for hours over the course of months! I adore you both so much

Words: 7234

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

They warn you that Tommy’s transition home will be difficult. An adjustment period they call it. You prepare for him to struggle, thinking he would try to leave the house in search of trouble, but it’s the opposite. Joel picks him up from work in the morning and drops him off in the evening. Then he goes out on the back deck and drinks sitting out there in utter silence. At first, you join him, letting Nathaniel play in the backyard but he refuses to talk, hardly looks your way. Sometimes he tracks Nathaniel, but not all the time. He seems so far away, like he had those first couple months home after Desert Storm, but he came back to you, as Your Tommy. At least for a little bit. 

At night, he pulls you into his arms without a word. He holds you until you fall asleep, but on several occasions, you wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Usually he’s sitting on the bed or standing as he stares out the window. Sometimes you hear him pacing the house. You don’t talk about it. You don’t talk about much anymore except for the weather. He’s ultra focused on the weather it seems. 

He hasn’t tried to touch you. Sexually that is. Any kiss he lays on you is chaste almost like it’s his duty, but sometimes you catch more behind it, like he’s pushing down his own desires. When you try to progress things, he walks away. 

It hurts. A lot. 

You have Julia and Micky over for dinner a month after Tommy’s release. Tommy comes out of his shell a little bit. He wears a smile, laughs with his head thrown back at some inside joke Micky cracks. He looks easy, relaxed for once. Under the table, his hand lands on your thigh sending little jolts of electricity through your body. He’s feeding you more and more loose threads of his old self to hold on to. The ever present tension in your chest eases. You hate that it feels like you can breathe again. A small, small assurance that he will come back to you in time. 

Micky and Tommy take the boys outside after dinner. Micky talks about a support group for Veterans he goes to. You watch from the window, you can’t hear them, but you see when  Tommy brushes him off, his body going rigid. You try to push it out of your mind, but you already feel the threads slipping through your fingers as you push back tears with a glass of water. 

Tommy goes to bed before you that night, but when you slip into bed, he still pulls you into his arms. When you wake up a couple hours later, Tommy stands by the window, gazing out of it like a statue keeping watch. 

You don’t usually say anything. You don’t let him know you know he’s not sleeping, but something tugs you into an upright position. “Tommy.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. You get no indication that he even hears you. You throw back the covers, joining him next to the window. You repeat his name, laying a hand on his shoulder. You catch a small twinge in his jaw. “Come back to bed?”

His eyes dart from the moon to his feet. He leans away from you, just enough for you to pick up on it. You can’t ignore the stab of hurt that shoots through your body. Your hands fall back like you’ve been burned. You wish you had the energy to yell at him, fight him, but you don’t, so you crawl back into bed, back turned to him. Silent tears soak your pillow before you fall back asleep. 

Tommy’s gaze moves to your still frame, praying for a release from the chains he can’t seem to shake. The ones that he keeps hurting you with, but he doesn't know where to find the keys. 

So life continues like that. Weekly dinners with Micky and Julia, glimpses of Tommy and threads that slip through your fingers. Most days it feels like one step forward and two steps back. Your patiences frays, your emotions unraveling each time he pushes you away only to pull you close at the end of the day. You’re not sure what does it, if you’ve reached the end of your rope, completely unraveled, or multiple tantrums Nathaniel threw all day, but when he reaches for you one night, you snap. 

“Stop.” You pull out of his reach.

“What’s wrong?”

Dry laughter falls out of you as you roll out of the bed. “What’s wrong? What’s not wrong?”

“Baby…”

“No, you don’t get to try and soothe me!” You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears of the past months from your eyes. You can’t break down right now, in front of him. “You’re pushing me away! I’m trying to be here for you, I really am, Tommy, but I am exhausted! I don’t know what to do.”

He looks away, body looking deflated. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”

“No- Stop,” you hold your hands up. “You know why I’m here. I love you, but love only gets us so far.”

“I’m trying-”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know-”

“People who are trying don’t sit out on the porch and ignore their family every night! They don’t ignore their wife!”

“If that’s how you feel, maybe you should just leave me now!” he snaps. “No need to delay the inevitable.”

It pulls the air from you like a punch to the gut. Tears well in your eyes. “Is that what you want?”

He looks away from you again. You march up to him, grabbing his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Tell me!” 

There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re the same eyes you fell in love with, but they’re hollow now. It sends a heartbreaking chill through your body. His eyes fall to the corner, the only way he can get away from your searing gaze. 

You drop his face, stepping away before you lose it in front of him. “Okay then.” 

You can’t stay here, in the room, in your home. Tommy hangs his head as you flee from his presence. The house rattles when the front door slams behind you. Only then, does Tommy let the apathy bleed out of his body and the tears fall. 

A knock on the front door jolts Joel awake. The TV plays lowly, casting harsh light and shadows across the dark living room. He feels confused, disoriented. Another knock pulls him through the fog a little bit. He opens the door to find you, tears streaming down your face. You push past him, crossing the threshold without an invitation. You don’t need one. 

“What’s wrong, Darlin?”

You inhale, preparing to let the words out, to scream if necessary, and then your whole chest quivers, and the tears pour out again sending you into a blubbering mess. Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the couch before you collapse right in front of him. 

He leaves you for a minute. The faucet runs in the kitchen. Joel sets a cool, heavy glass in your hands, watching over you with concern knit brows. Every time you try to talk, your chest rattles again and tears overpower you.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

You sip at the water, rotating between complete serenity and total chaos. Every time you think you might be able to speak, the words turn into incoherent sobs. Finally, you give up trying to talk until the glass is empty. Joel takes the glass from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. You don’t attempt to talk until your breathing is fully evened out. Joel holds your shoulders, thumbs running smoothly over your skin.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” you say. “All the time.”

Joel frowns. “Tommy?”

“He won’t talk to me.” The tears gather behind your eyes again, creating pressure in your head. You feel the blubbering start to return. “I knew things would be hard, but he just acts like I’m not even there half the time.”

“Is he going out again?” 

You shake your head. “No- he’s home all the time, sulking, being mad at the world for whatever reason he can come up with. I’ve tried so hard. I don’t know what else to do.” Hot tears spill from your eyes. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’m used to doing everything alone- but now I’m doing it with a ghost in my home. It wears on a person, and tonight- “ It hurts like citrus in a fresh cut to think about.  

“Come here.” Joel sighs, feeling his heartache for you. He pulls you into his chest, allowing you to soak his shirt until it sticks to his skin. His hand caresses your back, doing his best to soothe you as best he can. Though by now, he’s a pro at it. 

Eventually, your head falls into his lap. The sobs don't seem to rattle your body the same, but the tears don’t stop. 

Annoyance begins to grow in Joel. How many more times does he have to do this before you come to your senses? He thought Tommy’s stint in prison would help, yet here you are still crying on his couch. This can’t keep happening. It’s not fair to you. 

Joel loves his brother. He would do anything in this world for him, except when it comes to you. Because Joel loves you too. He loves you more and in more ways than a brother-in-law should. He hasn’t minded being just your brother-in-law and friend until now. You deserve better. 

When you finally sit up, wiping the tears from your eyes, he knows he won’t be able to stop the words at the cusp of his mouth. 

“What time is it?” You look at the clock on the wall with a sigh. “I should go home.”

“Darlin,” Joel grabs your chin. Your eyes snap to his. There’s a seriousness in his eyes you’re not sure you’ve seen before. “How long are you gonna let him keep doing this to you?”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

You close your eyes for a second. Another tear falls with your eyelashes. Joel swipes it away with his thumb. “What am I supposed to do, Joel? Where would we go?”

“You could stay here until you find somethin.”

A little huff of laughter manages to escape. “Yes, I’m sure Sarah would love having us invade her space when there’s a perfectly good house down the street.”

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to leave him.” You put your hand on Joel’s wrist. “He’s a dick, but I love him.”

“It’s killing me to see you like this. You deserve better.”

He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s something else in his eyes. The way he’s looking at you. There’s a heat in his gaze, something that feels so familiar, but you haven’t seen Tommy in years, the same look you saw that night at the beach. It sends tingles through your bloodstream, little pinpricks of excitement like the night you got yourself off in his bed, said his name and then heard him. You’ve managed to push down the question until now, but you know for certain now. He heard you. You swallow, your breath feeling like it’s being pulled out of your lungs. 

Do you tell him what Tommy said tonight? Do you tell him that you heard him that night? Do you tell him you’re being pulled into different directions?

“Joel…”

His hand falls to your waist. The other cups your neck. You feel like you’re falling toward him, helpless to stop the inevitable. “I’ve got you, Darlin.”

He’s been here. He’s always been here for you at the drop of a hat. Your firm foundation when it felt like the rest of the world was sinking. You always assumed you were just a promise he made to his brother, but what he’s been to you and what you’ve been to him, it’s more than a promise to a brother. It’s more than a love for family. 

It sparks a flame inside you. You haven’t been looked at like that in years. Haven’t been touched in just as long. Tommy hasn’t made a single move on you since he got out. He’s run every time you’ve tried to initiate something. 

Your eyes dip to his lips, centimeters from your own. Joel echoes the statement again, quieter this time as your lips touch his. He shutters under you, lips quick to take over. Arms wrap around your waist. You’re thankful for it. Thankful not to have to think about any of it. Content to let him have complete control as you straddle him.

He inhales with a faint shake to his breath, lips still touching yours. Then, he returns in full force, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth. His hands crawl up your body, greedy and searching. You give in, nails wracking through his hair. Years of pent-up desire behind both of your movements. 

You play with the top buttoning of his shirt, popping them open, lightly scraping your nails across his chest. A moan reverberates from his chest. The bulge in his pants grows against your crotch, sending electricity through your veins. You tug at another button before Joel’s hand covers yours. He manages to pull away just barely. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Not here.” He pants. “Sarah.”

Your eyes widen, realizing how easily you could’ve been spotted by your niece. Joel caresses your jaw, eyes hooded with lust. He bucks his hips up, brushing your clothed crotch again. You gasp, making him smirk. 

His voice is raspy with need. “Gotta get you into my bed, Darlin.”

You barely manage to pull yourself off his lap, your legs feeling like wet noodles. Joel smiles, he grabs your hand, tugging you behind him. He’s quiet on the stairs, eyes glued to Sarah’s bedroom door the entire way up. 

His bedroom door clicks softly behind you, your shirt thrown off before Joel can turn around. He lets out an appreciative groan, pulling his own shirt off as he stalks toward you. Want pools low in your belly, the walls of your aching cunt clench. Your breath quickens as he edges nearer, a solid arm wrapping around your waist. His contained erection pushes against you making you grin. “Happy to see me?”

“More than you know,” he growls, kissing you again. Hand roaming your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You moan softly and then a little bit louder. Joel shakes his head. “Music to my fucking ears baby.”

He pulls and tugs at your bra, unable to get it opened to the point you’re worried he broke a clasp. Finally, you pull it over your head and let it land with your shirt. He takes you in, topless in his bedroom for just him to see. You’re a fucking work of art, water to a wanderer in the desert. 

He cups one of your breasts, pulls the other one into his mouth. You gasp, head falling back, moisture collecting in your underwear. His thumb plays with your exposed nipples while his tongue swirls over the other. You moan his name softly, being cautious of your volume.

He palms himself through his jeans, switching to your other breast as he does. You fight the urge to fall back on the bed, hands playing in his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He hums softly against your chest, sending an extra wave of pleasure through your body. He pulls back, saliva connecting the two of you, eyes glued to yours. He kisses you until the back of your knees hit his mattress, but he doesn’t let you fall to the bed yet. 

“How long has it been?” he says, muffled against your lips. His fingers play with the button of your pants

“What?”

“How long has it been?” He pulls back, the button of your pants popping open as he sinks to his knees.

Confusion flashes through your face until you realize what he’s saying, what he’s asking. You swallow, unsure of how to answer. 

“Darlin?”

It’s embarrassing because you can’t remember the last time you were touched like this. You shake your head. “I don’t know. Before?”

The sound from his throat is guttural, almost a growl. He’s been out for three months. Three fucking months and he hasn’t bothered to touch his wife. 

Joel tugs your jeans down, pressing a kiss just below your belly button, continuing down to the band of your underwear. Your pussy clenches again, dripping with need. 

“Lay down.”

You obey, bottom hitting the soft mattress first and then your back. His smell is everywhere now, seeping into your skin, just as it always has when you curled up in his bed. 

His hands run up the length of your torso, tweaking your nipples before sliding down, continuing over your thighs. He pulls your jeans free, pressing his nose to your center. “Smell so good for me, baby.”

Your stomach flutters, hips pressing into his face. He lets out a low chuckle. “I’m going to take care of you, Darlin. Don’t you worry.” 

You whine, hands gripping the sheets beside you. “Please, Joel.”

He tugs your underwear down, tortuously slow. His fingers trace down the entirety of your legs. You can see just enough under the hood of your lust-filled eyes. He props both of your legs on his shoulders, pressing slow kisses to the inside of each leg as he edges closer and closer to your core. 

When he gets there, he pauses, eyes locking on yours. It’s intentional. You have the urge to cuss him out if he doesn’t put his mouth on you soon. The need is strong enough you could cry or scream of frustration. 

Slowly, he spreads your legs, fingers creeping toward your sopping folds. He runs his pinky through them, barely nudging your clit, but it’s enough to have your back arching off the mattress. He grins up at you. He spreads you further. The evidence of your arousal glistens in the dim lights. “Fuck, Baby. So wet for me.”

You bite your lip to keep from yelling at him. “Please, Joel.” Your voice is hoarse and strained already. 

He groans, practically falling into your spread pussy. His tongue flattens against you, running the length of your folds. Your hands tangle in his hair, repeated moans falling from your lips, ones you both know you’re holding back for the sake of being quiet. You’re seeing stars and he’s barely touched you. 

Joel wants to take his time, savor the moment, memorize every piece of you. He wants to pull you apart piece by piece and put you back together again. He knows he may not get another opportunity again, but you’re addicting. He wants to pull those sounds from you on a loop and feast on your juices. He sucks your clit, swirling his tongue around it, eliciting another glorious moan from you. Each one grows louder until he pulls away for the briefest second and a pillow hits your face. 

“As much as I wanna hear you, Darlin. Use that.” He grins. “Don’t hold back on me anymore.”

His mouth is on you, doubling his efforts. Bringing you to the edge of bliss. You’re so close, moans filling the pillow case that smells like him. He inserts a finger, giving you something to clench around, softly brushing against your walls. His tongue laps over your clit and the tension building in you snaps in one beautiful crescendo. 

His thumb replaces his tongue as he works you through your orgasm, chest heaving as you catch your breath. “That’s right. Just like that.”

You toss the pillow to the side, locking eyes with him. He smirks at you, pressing a kiss over your hip. He leaves behind some of your juices, his face slick with them. Standing back to his feet, he undoes his belt shucking off his jeans and boxers. 

Your breath catches again as you hurry to sit up. He chuckles at you, catching your hands in his as you reach for him, for his cock. He pushes you back down to the bed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “As much as I’d enjoy that, Darlin. It was all I could do not to finish in my pants like a damn teenager.” 

Your breath quivers against him, words barely coherent in your brain. He releases one of your hands, reaching into his drawer for a condom.

 “Joel, I-” Your hand runs down his side, soaking in the feel of his skin. “Please.” It’s all you can manage. Years of pent-up desire begging to be freed. 

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on him. 

He rips open the foil packet. Your eyes follow his every movement as he rolls it over his cock. Once it’s on he crawls onto the bed, hovering over you, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and stars. He’s your oasis in the desert and you’re his. Your hands roam his back and shoulders and hair. He leans into your touch, soft noises of contentment falling from his lips. 

Before you know what you’re doing, you manage to flip him onto his back. His arms fly out, a thunk sounding through the room as his wrist collides with the night stand. 

You can’t help the laughter that spills from your lips as you settle on top of him. “Are you okay?”

“Glad to see you’re so concerned for my well being.” He chuckles.

“No- Really.” But you can’t stop laughing. “Are you okay?”

“My watch caught it. I’m fine.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Joel smiles, cradling your face in his hands. 

You lean down, hands spread over his chest as you press your lips to his. His hands are all over your bare skin again. He shifts your hips, positioning you over him, ready for you to sink down on to him, feel you wrap around him. 

You run your thumb over his bottom lip as his eyes roam over your face, breath held in anticipation, waiting for you.

“Are you sure?” you ask, barely a whisper. 

“Never been more sure.” His hands settle over your hips, holding them softly. 

The air seems to evaporate from the room and the world goes silent before you take that final, fatal move and sink onto him. A soft whimper leaves your lips before Joel captures your lips, swallowing it.

The moonlight reflects off his watch face. Neither of you are aware that it’s stopped, sealing your sins under its glass. 

You lay in Joel's arms long after you’ve both finished, sweaty and bare. The ceiling fan turns above you offering little reprieve. It’s nice, at first, but the longer you lay there, the longer it begins to sink in, the more you start to feel the stickiness on your skin and the unexplainable need for a shower. 

You pull out of Joel's arm’s without a word, eyes searching for your clothes strewn across the room. Why does it feel like the walls are closing in? You need to get out and think. 

“Darlin?” Joel sits up, reaching for your shoulder. 

“I should go home,” you say, rising to your feet before he can touch you. “I need to go home.”

“I told you you can stay.”

“I need to go home!” you snap, tears glistening in your eyes. This is wrong. It’s all wrong. 

“Shit,” Joel’s head drops. He lets out a huff, a hint of sarcasm to it. You grab your shirt, pulling it on, too busy locating your items to pay him any mind. “So that’s it? You’re just going to go back? Nothing’s gonna change.”

Your head snaps up as you pull on your jeans. “This can’t happen.” Your chest shakes. “It shouldn’t have happened, Joel. We both know that.”

“Or maybe it was supposed to.” He slides out of the bed, pulling on his boxers.

“Joel-”

“He doesn’t treat you right. We both know that.”

“He’s my husband!”

“He doesn’t get to walk all over you just because he’s your husband!”

“That doesn’t make this right!”

“It was the most right my life’s felt in years,” Joel says, eyes landing on yours. You bite back tears, trying not to let him get to you as you turn away, but he grabs your wrist. “It always does with you.”

You turn your head away from him without a response.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” His thumbs press into your palm. 

You slip his grip. “I love him. I know I shouldn’t anymore, after everything, but I do.” 

“I’ve always been here.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” You want to curse as your emotion wells up again. How much can a person take in a single night? “My life would be so much simpler if it was you.”

“It could be.”

“No,” your head shakes. It hurts more than you expect it too. You do love him. You wish it could be him. As if the past three years weren’t enough, you know what it’s like to be with him now, but it’s still Tommy, and you hate yourself for it. 

Joel seems to read it in your eyes, the sadness, the acceptance, lingering longing for what could have been. His throat bobbles as he steps back to give you space. You release a slow breath. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don't apologize. I should have known better.”

You cringe. You want to tell him it’s not all on him, but he’s giving you an out. You’re too exhausted not to take it. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Yeah.” Joel moves about his room like he’s searching for something. 

You’re not sure if you should say something more, or leave. Leaving would be easier. A clean break, and you take it, but Joel’s voice stops you before you can open the door. “He wasn’t faithful to you.”

Your hand freezes over the door knob, eyes squeezing shut. You can’t do this. You can’t have this conversation right now, but your body is frozen in place. 

“I think you should know.”

Nails bite into your palms as you steady your breath, eyes focused on the wood of the door in front of you as rage begins to grow in you. “He already told me, but thanks for dredging that hurt back up three years after the fact.”

“Darlin-”

You spin on your heels. “Fuck you, Joel!” 

Joel’s eye’s fly wide. “I just thought you should know!”

“No, you were using that for your own good!” You can’t take this. Joel throwing Tommy’s betrayal in your face years after the fact is its own form of treachery.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I live in a constant state of hurt! You were supposed to be my reprieve!” Your fists shake, voice raising. You don’t care if you wake Sarah, you don’t care if your sins come to light. There’s only so much a person can take in a single night. “If you actually cared about me, you wouldn’t have kept that a secret for years! And you damn sure wouldn’t have used it for your own good!”

Joel doesn’t break eye contact with you, but you see the regret fill his eyes. Fire buzzes in your bloodstream and tears prickle your eyes. You’re not sure how you have any left to shed. In the blink of an eye, you flee from his room and home before he can attempt to draw you back in.

You take the long way home, letting the Texas darkness swallow you whole until you’re ready to go back home. 

The house is dark and quiet. You flip on the lamp, a deep tension forming in your head. Tommy sits on the couch, eyes latching onto yours. He looks like a lost puppy. Your breath catches. You must look a mess- eyes stained red, and clothes wrinkled. You worry you smell like sex or Joel, running over the nights happening for any chance Joel left a mark on you- not that Tommy would notice that. 

“I was getting worried about you.”

You toss your keys on the end table, throwing off your shoes with a sarcastic huff. “That’s ironic.” Tommy cringes. For once, you’re the closed-off one, too emotionally hardened or drained for his antics. 

“I deserve that.”

“Ya think?” You cross your arms. 

“Baby…” He eases to his feet. “I’m sorry- for all of it.”

“Sorry? Sorry! What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Tommy!”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It reminds you of Joel. The thought makes your blood run cold. “I don’t know.”

A humorless laugh leaves your throat. “You don’t know?”

“What the fuck can I say? I fucked up. Quite frankly, I don’t know why you’re still here!”

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!”

“Why!?”

The question catches you off guard. “What the fuck do you mean? ‘Why?’”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Wow, you’re on a roll tonight.” Your eyes roll. 

“I mean it.”

“Do you want me to leave, Tommy?” Yours and his transgressions filter before your eyes, making you cringe. Two wrongs don’t make a right. “You're done with me and you can’t bring yourself to say it?”

“I’m not good enough for you anymore!” Tears swell in his eyes. “I’ve done nothing but hurt you! But I can’t let you go!”

“I don’t want you to let me go, you big idiot!”

“Why?”

Your eyes flutter shut as you take a deep breath. Joel behind your eyelids. His stability. His care. His love. You could have that, but it would never quench your longing for Tommy. For better or worse, he’s yours. You want him even if it’s bad for you. “I don’t know.”

Tommy enters your space. His arms slip around your waist, eliciting a soft gasp from a place inside you you thought long gone. 

“You still believe in me?” He presses his forehead against yours. The callus on your heart starts to lift away, easier than you want to admit. He’s still in there somewhere, the man you fell in love with. You’re seeing more of him than you have in a long time. His hands feel hot against your back and he tugs you closer. You’re compliant under his touch. Whatever he wants from you, you’ll let him have it if he’ll just stays like this. 

You sniff back the tears, head nodding. “Yeah. I think I always will.”

“Let me make it better. I’m going to do better, Baby.” His breath is hot on your ear, lips pressing right behind it, and then to the corner of your jaw. Your body takes over as you lean into his touch. “I’m going to be here and present for you and Nathaniel.”

“You promise?” If the Tommy you fell in love with comes back to you, you won’t survive losing him again. You feel his hands in places he’s not even touching, heat sprouting all over your body. 

“I promise, Baby.” He kisses your cheek and then your forehead. 

You feel the pull of his current tugging you back under, clouding your judgment. You should send him packing or at least to the guest room until you wash his brother’s scent from your skin, but your body calls for him. Tommy’s touch is your addiction, your late nights running wild, your stint in prison. 

His breath fans over your face and before you know it, you’re pulling his lips to yours. The undertow sweeps you away, tugging you under the surface. Tommy’s never been the safe option, but you never claimed to need safe. 

He tugs you up the stairs. The lock on your bedroom door clicks and he’s on you like a starved man, hands wreaking havoc on your body, pulling clothing from your body like pretty wrapping paper on christmas morning. It doesn’t matter that you were sated well over an hour ago, your body responds to Tommy like a horny teenager. He knows you. He knows how to touch your body just right, he knows exactly how to make you writhe and moan and scream, and he hasn���t forgotten either. He plans to put his memory to good use tonight. 

Your hands are as ravenous as his, tugging his hair, at the buttons of his shirt, and pants. His teeth scrapes your bottom lip before he lays you down on the bed, bared to him and the moon streaming through the curtains. He smiles at you. It’s breathtaking. 

He takes his dear, sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece and gluing you back together. Each time your brain dares to wonder into forbidden territory, he reminds you why he’s your husband, that he still knows you better than anyone else. It erases the rest of the night from your memory and the last two years until it’s just you and him, coming together as one like it was always meant to be. You and him. Bonnie and Clyde. 

He finishes deep inside of you, a feeling you’ve missed. All of it you’ve missed. His skin on yours, sweat mingling together. You lay there staring up at him in awe. He locks eyes with you. He’s there. Your Tommy. The Tommy you see every time you think about him, with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.

He leans down, lips pressing to your forehead. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “I never want to be the cause of these again.”

“Let’s be real, Tommy, you made me cry even when things were good.”

He chuckles, falling beside you. His chest moves with his heavy panting. You think he might be the most handsome man you’ve ever met. “Yeah, suppose I did.” 

“You’re gonna try, for real?”

“I’ll probably fuck up here and there.” He gathers you into his arms, skin pressed to skin as you breathe in the same air. 

“I know you will.” You tease. He scowls, but it’s all in good fun. Another flash of fresh air, a promise that things could go back to normal. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You laugh, fingers tangling in his black waves. His hair has gotten so long. You wonder if he’ll keep it this way. “It’s gonna take at least that.”

He nods, a hint of seriousness showing in his face. “I know.”

And you know he means it. 

“I think you should go to that group Micky mentioned. You need people who understand.”

Tommy shifts slightly. He doesn’t like the idea. That much is clear. “Baby…”

“This is how you do better, Tommy.” The firmness in your voice catches you off guard. Tommy too. 

He nods, Adam's Apple bobbing. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Every week?”

“Every week.”

The next morning, you wake up the same way you fell asleep, in your husband’s arms. 

Tommy never says a word, but he smells it on you that night. Something familiar, but out of place. It doesn’t belong on you, but he can’t put his finger on it. He knows what it means. He’s no idiot, and he doesn’t blame you for any of it. He’s had his indiscretions. Lord knows you’re allowed yours. 

You sit on the front porch with your coffee the next morning, the creaking of the porch swing playing in the background of your racing mind. You feel guilty for all of it. What you did to Tommy. What you did to Joel. But more so, you feel guilty because you know you can keep this buried for the rest of your life if it means keeping Tommy, and you’re pretty sure it makes you no better than him. At least Tommy had the balls to own up to what he did, but Joel isn’t some random girl at a bar. He’s your friend. Tommy’s brother. If it had been some random man, you could own up to it, but not this. Not Joel. 

“Aunt Bonnie!” 

The familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts as Sarah waves from the sidewalk, other hand clutched tightly in Joel’s. 

“Hey!” You force a smile to your face, waving back to her as they climb the porch stairs. She rushes over to you, arms open to give you a hug. You return the gesture, crushing her against your frame. “What’s up?”

“We’re just walking. I wanted to come say hi.”

You kiss her cheek. “Well I feel honored. Nathaniel and Uncle Tommy are inside if you want to say hi to them too.”

“Okay,” Sarah returns your kiss, curls bouncing behind her as she darts inside. 

You keep your eyes focused off to the side as Joel’s footsteps draw closer. Your finger plays along the rim of your coffee mug. You feel small, like a child in trouble. Joel eases next to you on the swing, shoulder brushing yours as he does. You bite your lip, knee bouncing softly.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says. “I shouldn’t have let that happen last night.”

Your eyes glaze over. “It’s not all on you.”

“Let it.” Your head snaps toward him. He looks tired, like he didn’t sleep much last night. He clasps his hands together, leaning over his knees. “You weren’t in a good place. I took advantage of that. Let it be my fault.”

Tears glaze over your eyes. He’s giving you an out. 

“Joel…”

He nods at you, a silent assurance. You shouldn’t take it, but you do. You lean into it, and it covers the guilt some, even if it’s all lies. You knew what you were doing. 

He kisses your forehead as the words leave your mouth. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Darlin.” More lies to make you feel less guilty. He’ll feed them to you as long as you need him to. 

He stands up, eyes flickering between your door and the way back to his house. 

“I can walk Sarah home later.” 

“Thanks.” He nods before leaving your front porch. He doesn’t look back.  

Things with Tommy don’t magically get better overnight. Life doesn’t work that way. It takes time. It’s gradual, sometimes it feels like you’re moving backward, but slowly Tommy comes back into himself. He’s never the exact man you fell in love with, the one you married, but you’re not the same person either. Time changes things. People grow, but with some work, you find new versions of yourselves that still fit together. Most importantly, this new version is still your Tommy.

Your memories with Joel don’t go away. You keep them tucked deep in your soul, but the two of you find your new rhythm, your friendship too important to lose. 

One Year Later

The five of you gather at Joel’s on Sunday morning for breakfast, rotating houses each week. It’s a carry over from the routine you and Joel developed. It’s different, obviously. You and Nathaniel don’t stay the night. It takes time for Tommy to find his place in the well oiled unit the two of you became. It feels awkward and clunky at times, but you get through it and slowly the kinks work themselves out. 

Joel bounds down the stairs, hair wet from his shower as he joins you and Tommy around the coffee pot. 

“Figured y'all would have breakfast ready by now,” Joel says, squeezing next to Tommy to get to the coffee. 

“Last I checked, we’re guests in your house,” you say, quirking an eyebrow, teasing lilt in your voice. Joel’s eyes roll but a smirk quirks his lips none the less.

Tommy hears a ringing in his ears as the scent of Joel’s body wash filters through his senses, still strong on his brother’s skin. His eyes narrow at your and Joel’s banter. There’s nothing unusual about it. He knows you two are close. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows that scent. His mind pulls it from the fading archives quickly. He smelled it on you that night.  

Tommy sets his mug down, not saying anything as you and Joel go back and forth over breakfast traditions, the two of you falling into predetermined roles in the kitchen. You dance around each other, like a sixth sense, always knowing where the other one is and where they’re going. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy’s  not sure how he hadn’t caught it before. Maybe his brain wasn’t ready. He’s lived a lot of his recent life in a fog, maybe it had just cleared enough now. 

He doesn’t catch any longing glances or stolen touches. Everything is above board. He knows he has no right to be angry, not after what he's done. He’d pushed you away. Maybe he even pushed you into Joel’s bed that night. Maybe there were nights before, but he hasn’t smelled another man, hasn’t smelled Joel on your skin since. You’ve spent every night next to him, in his arms, body pressed against his. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs. 

He can get past the hurt like you did for him. He can push away the questions. How long did you wait? How often did you find solace in his brother’s bed? He wants to ignore the questions, stomp them down so they don’t fester, don’t ruin what you’ve helped him rebuild. 

“Daddy?” Nathaniel tugs on Tommy’s shirt, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He smiles, pulling his son into his arms with an exaggerated groan. At five and a half, it won’t be much longer before he’s too big to pick up. It hits again, like a sledgehammer to a cinderblock wall, how much of his son’s life he’s missed. Nathaniel laughs, pressing his forehead to Tommy’s. Is there a sweeter sound in this world? 

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“I love you.” He whisper yells.

Tommy chuckles mimicking Nathaniel’s tone. “I love you too.”

Your laugh floats through. Tommy looks up to find you smiling at them, so much love and affection sparkling in your eyes. Something stirs in him, possessiveness, maybe as he strides across the room, shifting Nathaniel to his side so he can pull you flush against him. You melt against him. That’s how he knows, knows you’re still his and he's yours. He won’t ever say a word. He won’t risk losing you again or causing you more grief than he has.

Tommy grins at you, voice lowering to a growl. “And I love you, Momma.” Then he kisses you like he’d reclaiming you. 

Neither of you catches the way Joel turns his back and puts himself out of ear shot. You never catch the way his gaze lingers. He conceals the way his fingers itch to touch you like he used to. 

Nathaniel squeals in disgust, sliding out of his father’s arms. You both share a laugh and then both Tommy’s arms are tightly around your waist, lips pressed to yours again. Your hands rake through his long curls.

As long as you still look at him like that, continue to touch him like that, Tommy doesn’t care that you fucked his brother. Your heart belongs to him. 

Taglist: @pamasaur@alltheotps@rizzraa@moel-jiller@misstokyo7love

@justagalwhowrites@pedritosgfreal@mellymbee@sarahhxx03@lizzie-cakes@sixhours

@duckybird101@anoverwhelmingdin@nervoushottee@caitlynsixxx@kaykay0315@stevie75

@millercontracting@cals-laundry@jessthebaker@noisynightmarepoetry@vickie5446@mewantpeepaw@tulips2715@leggtostandon

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @lotusbxtch@ravenn-darkholme @kungfucapslock @spookyxsam

@theorakaenslayer

[whereforarthur]

Homecoming

Request: Would you be able to do either a George or Arthur hill smut, like they haven’t seen the reader in a long time and shit gets freaky

Pairing: Arthur Hill x Gf!Reader

Category: Fluff and Smut

Word Count: 2k

*****

Your memory feels like home to me. So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds its way back to you. -Ranata Suzuki

The London air had the scent of rain-soaked concrete as y/n hurried through the bustling streets. She'd spent the last two weeks juggling work and the mundane tasks of life, all the while counting down the days until Arthur's return. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing him again, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. As a British YouTuber with a penchant for adventure, Arthur's vacations were legendary, and his stories of far-off lands filled their Skype calls with vivid color. But nothing could compare to the real thing, to the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his laughter filling their tiny flat.

The door to the building creaked open, revealing the familiar staircase that led to their shared space. Each step echoed with memories of their past, a silent reminder of the love that had grown between them. The flat was dark, but she knew Arthur was home. His suitcase lay open in the hallway, clothes spilling out like a kaleidoscope of memories from his trip. She dropped her bag and took a deep breath, savoring the faint scent of his cologne that lingered in the air.

"Arthur?" she called out softly, her voice a gentle whisper in the quiet.

"In the kitchen, love," he replied, his tone thick with exhaustion.

Y/n followed the sound of his voice, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Arthur stood by the fridge, a tired smile playing on his lips as he searched for something to eat. His normally neat hair was disheveled, and the stubble on his face had grown into a short, unruly beard. Despite his travel-worn appearance, he looked more handsome than ever, his eyes lighting up when they met hers.

"You're back," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and relief.

Arthur turned, shutting the fridge with a thud. He took a step towards her, his arms outstretched. "And I've missed you like crazy."

Y/n melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. His arms tightened around her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go. She breathed in the scent of him, a potent mix of travel and homecoming. Two weeks apart had done nothing to diminish the spark between them; if anything, it had only made it stronger.

"I missed you too," she murmured into his chest, her cheek pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt. "Your stories couldn't even come close to the real thing."

Arthur chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I've got something better than stories." He leaned back, his eyes searching hers. "But first, I need to shower off this flight."

Y/n nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I could use one too," she said, her voice low and seductive. "How about we save some water?"

Arthur's smile grew into a grin. "Now, that's an excellent idea." He took her hand and led her to the bathroom, their steps in sync. The room was small but cozy, the walls adorned with their favorite travel prints. He turned on the shower, the sound of the water hitting the tiles echoing through the flat. The steam began to fill the room, creating a warm, intimate cocoon.

They undressed each other slowly, the anticipation building with every article of clothing that fell to the floor. Arthur's eyes roamed over y/n's body, drinking in the sight of her like a man who'd been lost in the desert. She felt her cheeks flush under his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. He stepped into the shower, pulling her in after him. The water washed over them, washing away the travel grime and the days of longing.

*****

"I missed you so much," Arthur murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. His hands roamed her body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and dip. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Y/n leaned into him, her own thoughts swirling. She had missed the comfort of his arms, the way he made her feel safe and desired. "What were you thinking about?" she asked, her voice curious.

Arthur's eyes searched hers, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "Everything and nothing," he said, his thumb brushing her cheek. "But mostly, I was thinking about this." He bent down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and hungry. It was as if he were trying to consume her, to fill the void he'd felt during their time apart.

Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her palms. His skin was warm and damp, the water cascading down his body in rivulets. Y/n leaned into the kiss, her body responding to his touch as if it had been programmed to do so. She could feel the tension between them, the pent-up desire that had been building for two long weeks.

Arthur's hands moved to her waist, lifting her slightly so that their bodies aligned. The sensation of the water on her skin and his hands on her body was intoxicating. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her center pressing against him. He groaned into the kiss, his arousal evident.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Arthur murmured against her lips, his voice gruff with need. "Two weeks without you has been torture."

Y/n's cheeks flushed with arousal as she felt Arthur's hard length pressing against her. "Missed your cock too," she whispered, her voice a sultry purr.

Arthur chuckled, his hands sliding down to cup her ass. "Is that so?" He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, making her gasp. "Let's not waste any more time, then."

He positioned her against the tiles, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. The water pounded down on them, a sensual backdrop to their reunion. Arthur's hands found her center, his fingers teasing her wet folds. Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head as he delved deeper, his thumb circling her clit with a practiced touch. "Fuck, I missed this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Her legs began to tremble as he worked her into a frenzy, bringing her to the edge of release. "Inside me," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Arthur."

He didn't need to be asked twice. With a primal growl, Arthur thrust into her, filling her completely. Y/n's eyes widened, her mouth forming a silent scream as she took him in. He felt so good, so right, it was as if she'd been waiting for this exact moment her whole life. His movements were slow at first, gentle strokes that built the fire inside her. She matched his rhythm, her hips rising to meet his, urging him deeper.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance they'd performed countless times before but always felt like the first. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, wiping away the dull ache of his absence. She felt herself tighten around him, her orgasm building like a storm at sea.

"Scream for me, love," Arthur whispered into her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Let me hear how much you've missed me."

Y/n did as he asked, her moans echoing off the tiles as he picked up the pace. The water continued to beat down on them, a relentless force that only added to the intensity of their passion. She clung to him, her legs tightening around his waist, urging him to go faster, deeper. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her was exquisite, a reminder of all the nights she'd lain awake, craving this very moment.

Arthur's breath grew harsher, his strokes more demanding. He leaned into her, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to maintain control. "You're so tight," he groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. "So fucking tight."

Y/n could feel the tension coiling in her belly, her climax approaching like a freight train. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her screams contained. But Arthur's relentless pounding and the feel of his thumb working her clit was too much. She threw her head back, crying out his name as she came, her body shuddering with pleasure.

The sound of her release was all Arthur needed. He let out a guttural groan, his hips bucking wildly as he emptied himself inside her. The warmth of his cum filled her, a tangible reminder that he was truly home. They held each other, their breaths mingling in the steamy air.

"Welcome home," she whispered, her voice filled with love and satisfaction.

"Best homecoming ever," he murmured, his eyes closing in contentment.

And in that moment, as the water continued to fall around them, they knew that no adventure could ever compare to the journey they shared together.

As they came down from their high, Arthur kissed her neck, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. "I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble against her skin. "You're all mine."

Y/n shivered at the possessiveness in his words, feeling a thrill of excitement at the claim. She had missed him too, missed the way he made her feel so utterly cherished and desired. "And you're all mine," she whispered back, her nails tracing patterns on his back.

They took their time under the water, Arthur's kisses turning from passionate to gentle, his hands soothing and exploratory. The shower washed away their sweat and the last traces of his journey, leaving them clean and new. The warmth of the water and the heat of their bodies created a bubble of intimacy that seemed to encapsulate the two of them.

*****

"Come on," Arthur murmured, his voice a soft rumble in her ear. "Let's get out of here."

He turned off the shower, and the sudden silence was almost deafening. They stepped out onto the mat, wrapping themselves in towels. Arthur grabbed her hand, leading her to their bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the London streetlights. The bed looked inviting, the sheets rumpled from her restless nights without him.

They dried off and slid beneath the covers, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces that had been apart too long. Arthur pulled her into his arms, her back pressed against his chest. His hand found her breast, his thumb brushing the nipple until it peaked. She sighed contentedly, her eyes drifting shut.

"I have a surprise for you," Arthur whispered, his breath warm against her neck.

Y/n turned to face him, curiosity piquing. "What is it?"

He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a small box. "I picked this up on my travels," he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I thought it'd be perfect for our first night back together."

Her heart fluttered as he opened the box, revealing a delicate necklace with a tiny, sparkling charm. "It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes wide.

"It's a reminder of all the adventures we've had, and all the ones we're going to have," Arthur said, fastening the necklace around her neck. "And every time you wear it, I want you to think of me, and how much I love you."

The gesture was simple, but it meant the world to her. She leaned in, kissing him deeply, feeling the love that had grown stronger during their time apart. Their bodies entwined, their hearts beating as one.

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Two weeks apart had made their hearts grow fonder, and she knew that no matter where his travels took him, she would always be his home.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23

[asksuccubussides]

What if you were an asexual succubus, wouldn't that be fucked up or what

Chapter 10

Masterpost of chapters

When a demon is speaking in their native language (Demon) the text looks like this

11 days since Remus was cast out of hell

Virgil had been sitting on pins and needles ever since he'd gotten the string of texts from Janus talking about what an absolute buffoon asshole motherfucker of a muppet sod Remus was. When the door to their dorm opened and Janus came in it felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in over an hour.

"If you say I told you so I will jump out of that window" Janus said before Virgil even had a chance to open his mouth.

From head to toe Janus was dripping wet with his clothes smelling musty and his nose red from the cold. He yanked a bathrobe and some warm clothes from the drawer before turning to leave again.

"I'm retreating into the shower"

While his roomate was gone Virgil put on some warm water for tea, mostly to keep his hands busy. Personally he only ever drank energy drinks so the only reason he kept buying tea bags and honey was because he knew Janus liked it. He spun around on the desk chair while waiting for him to get back. getting back into bed wasn't even on his mind.

Finally Janus came back but all he did was quietly put his wet clothes against the radiator to dry them before rolling onto his bed with his face against the wall and his arms tightly wrapped around himself. Virgil pushed the chair to scoot closer to the bed.

"So like is this one of the times where I should summon a spectre to haunt him or?"

"Oh yeah throw the next worst Bond movie onto him. That'll work great" Janus muttered back.

"You know I meant ghost!....So Cryptid then? Monster of the black lagoon? A gremlin?"

"He already is one!"

"Sure. Okay dude are you just planning on moping and whining all evening-"

"YES! Yes I am! I love moping and I adore whining! They're some of my favorite activities to do ever in the whole universe!"

Virgil crossed his arms against the back of chair and let out a long sigh while sinking his head aginst his arms "You know I'm sorry about saying that uh whole thing earlier right?"

"Oh please Viv Do remind me of exactly what you're apologizing for and add some extra groveling while you're at it"

He let out another sigh "I'm sorry for like saying you chose to have energy to hang with Remus but not to like go to class or buy groceries or something. I know you can't control your energy! Or your pain levels! Or anything like that! I knooow. I was just being a bitch"

"Yes you were!" Janus turned around to face his friend.

"Alright so what happened then?"

"Nothing! He just decided to ask me about my scar right when we were about to- about to" Janus waved his hand around in the air "Which is such a normal and nice thing to do! Nothing wrong with that!" Virgil swung side to side with the chair while waiting for his friend to continue. Jan nervously scratched at his nails "Iit's such an enjoyable feeling to just know that he's laughing about me right about now"

He looked to Virgil as if searching for if his friend would agree with him or not. To his surprise his friend moved away from the chair to sit down beside him on the bed and with some hesitation Virgil held out his arms to embrace him.

Normally Janus wasn't much of a hugger but it had been such a long time since Virgil last accepted any physical touch from him, aside from to calm him during panic attacks, that he hugged his friend like it was a single drop of water in a vast desert. He let his head lean against his friend's shoulder and closed his eyes as he pressed his fingers tightly against his back.

Virgil counted the seconds as they embraced. He hoped Janus didn't notice as he angled his face so he could ever so carefully breathe in the smell of the other man as a few strands curls tickled his nose. He moved his arms closer around Janus' back and lingered on the feeling of his chest touching his.

"People are just shitty Jan. It's like Paramore said, Everyone is a bad guy!"

"Ah yes the very famous Paramore lyric"

"It's from their latest album okay" Virgil moved back from the hug and held his hands against Janus' shoulders at an arms length "....Sometimes when the anxiety is all over me I just blurt shit out...Maybe..." On the inside Virgil was kicking at himself for showing Remus some grace but if he could make his friend feel any better it might be worth it "Maybe he was just anxious over uhm whatver you were doing and just shat some random sentence out"

"Hmm maybe" Janus replied without really speaking directly to him, more like a musing out into the air.

"Alright now we forget about that twat and we can watch the new scream film"

"Karma's a very nice lady and she knows I've done nothing wrong ever" Janus continued while smiling to himself.

"That's right"

"And shes's going to make sure Remus gets a brick thrown through his window any night now"

"Sure dude!"

"And that he slips in the shower"

"Great!"

"He would have been lucky to even breathe the same air as me"

Virgil tried to playfully dunk his fist against Janus' shoulder but instead his hand slipped and he awkwardly butted his fingers against the other man's neck "Okay let's not go that far. Why do we have to bring up uhhh romantic stuff. Why? Who nee- I mean. We're- We are living the nice bachelor life right? College yaaaayyy" He said it in the least energetic way possible "Just two dudes hanging out. No uh dates needed right!?"

Though Janus' expression didn't change one bit he silently thought he'd made his (sadly straight) friend uncomfortable by talking about his date with Remus too much. He mimicked the dunking of his fist against Virgil's neck before patting him on the shoulder.

"Ssssure, let's watch whatever Scream film you want to show me so badly"

-

At about the same time on the other side of town Remus staggered out of a club toilet stall and gave way to let the human he'd fed off pass by him and leave. He continued to stumble forward towards the bathroom sink and leant over it but crossed his hands over his mouth to stop himself from puking since he knew he couldn't waste it. He swallowed the puke back before smashing the bathroom mirror with his tail and chuckled when a random bystander got startled by the sound.

He stumbled out from the bathroom and pushed warm bodies away from him to try and get out of the club. If he stayed any longer he would start arguing to himself that since he'd already been punished for trying to eat a human once he could surely try once again.

A presence beckoned him halfway across the crowd and when he looked up he saw the top of a pair of blue horns peak over the heads of the humans. The hair on Remus' arms raised at the sight of a fellow demon and he began to swat humans away with his tail to get across the room. As he got closer he became sure it wasn't any succubi he recognised but damn any succubi at all was Amazing news!!

Remus grabbed onto the fellow demon and let up into a wide grin to which the succubi let up into a smile and held their hand against his shoulder with the same warmth as a bus driver waving to a fellow bus driver has. They took a quick look at him but their eyes stayed at the white patch of his hair as their smile slowly died out on.

"E- Excuse me but I'm working" The succubi spat out while beginning to back away from him.

All Remus could do was hold onto them even harder as his mind raced for a way to communicate. Some piece of paper nearby he could write on maybe. Maybe he could write in the dirt outside.

"I really have to go"

His nails started to dig into their skin. If he could just get them to open a door home!

"I don't want a white hair to touch me....Please"

In desperation he started to gesture to his mouth before trying to mimick the motion of writing. He even tried signing in hope of the tiny chance that the succubi would somehow understand.

The succubi swatted at his head with their hands to try and get him away "You're a Patton! I don't want to get in trouble for helping a Patton! Fucking traitor!"

Remus grip around the succubi's shoulders crumbled the second he was called a Patton. His legs felt weak and his hands shook as he watched the stranger turn and expand their wings so they could fly away as soon as they got out of the door.

The club music continued to blare into his eyes but he couldn't hear any of it. A Patton. A Patton. A Patton.

His eyes pierced onto the nearest human he could see and tore the bottle out of their hands to throw it at the wall. As the glass shattered onto the floor he tried to scream but as usual not a single sound came.

-

12 days since Remus was cast out of hell

"You are looking unwell" Logan commented at the end of his english lesson.

The two demons were sitting in the tiny office Logan was using as a substitute teacher. It was where he held the private lessons to the succubi. The instructions Remus had gotten for today was to memorize some verbs but at this point he'd gotten so bored he'd started to eat the paper.

The succubi spat out the paper and wrote in the saliva slicken mess 'Fed last night'.

"As far as I am aware we are supposed to look and feel rejuvinated after feeding, though I suppose just as some humans become sleepy after a feast and some energetic we are the same"

'Im just kinda fucked up'.

"Nobody is 'fucked up'. We are all different variations of functioning" He eyed the clock on the wall and began to shuffle his papers together "It has been an hour. I will see you in two days. Same time"

The older man abruptly stood up from his desk but he didn't even get to the door before Remus had wrapped himself around Logan's leg. He was sitting on the floor with his arms tightly crossed around his leg like a little kid.

Logan looked down at him "You can not keep doing this at the end of every lesson. You are well aware i have my own private life outside of this that I would like to spend my non working hours on"

Remus shook his head and only let go with one of his arms so he could gesture in the air the motion of writing.

"Do you have something productive to say?"

He nodded violently.

After prying the succubi away from his leg Logan gave him a paper and pen and waited patienly by the door for him to finish writing. Remus scribbled down a description of what he and Janus had done on the date before ending it with 'Can I kill him now?'

After skimming the text Logan gave him an unimpressed look "People typically have more intense physical touch than this during sport games. I doubt this is hardly enough to be deemed a sin" He sighed but let his expression ease a little as he saw Remus shrink in on himself "But it was a good first attempt. If you keep working on it you will surely see results"

--

16 days

Remus had been living in the corners of the library ever since he came to earth. When the janitor closed he simply hung to the ceiling by his tail until everything was dark and quiet. He waited and hoped to catch Janus either studying or working but up until now he'd had no luck.

Butterflies filled his stomach as he saw the librarian ending their shift and being replaced by Janus. He had to excitedly tap his feet into the ground to keep himself from immediately running and pouncing on him. The demon watched from a distance as Janus paid half a mind to pretending to look busy by the front desk. The human had dark bags under his eyes and he was still wearing the same skirt he had had on the date. When only a few people were around Remus went forward while grinning ear to ear.

"Jannie!!" His voice had gone hoarse from being unable to speak for a several days.

The human only looked up to give him an annoyed glance "I am already having bad back pain today, I dont need a headache as well"

"I was-"

"I am working" He interrupted "Unless you need help in some librarian way you can't talk to me"

Remus kept his eyes on Janus the entire time as he backed up to the nearest bookshelf, grabbed a random book and procedded to tear out a page before stuffing the paper into his mouth. He went back up to the desk and slid the book towards the human,

"Hi I would like to report a fucked up book!" Remus' cheeks were still stuffed with paper as he muffled it out.

Janus let out a long sigh "It's not a burn scar, it's discolored skin grafts. Yes it's real. No I was not born with it nor did I do it to myself. And yes I do still have partial feeling in that half of my face so do not try to poke at me to check if I will react" He listed it off as if he had said it so many times it was planned "There. All of the information you would want, now you can leave and stop pestering me"

"But-"

"Im working. Here let me show you" Janus tapped his finger into the desk "That was a dot. The end of the conversation. Bye! Have the most wonderful day! I hope you find succes in breaking both your legs!"

A small line had been created behind Remus and from what Logan had told him jobs were important to humans as well so for today he backed away.

--

17 days

Sleep hadn't come easy to Janus in a long time now but lately his thoughts consistently wandering to Remus didn't help. While tossing and turning all he could think about was the fuzzy hair creating a trail up his stomach, the way his arms had moved when he had taken his tank top of and most of all those damn shorts!

Somewhere at the back of his mind the instant shift in Remus' eyes as soon as the began to touch him replayed but it was hard to focus on it among all of the other impressions to rememeber.

After tossing and turning some more he finally decided to get up and go to the bathroom so he could touch himself without the fear of waking Virgil. Little did he know that Virgil had been laying awake just the same and as soon as Janus left the room he got up and moved to Janus' bed.

Virgil pushed his face into his roomate's pillow and took in the warmth that had been left.

--

19 days

It was nearing two o clock in the night when Remus sensed someone else in the library. He hid in his usual corner until he heard the person settling down by a table. His tail started to wag when he caught a faint whiff of the cologne Janus liked to wear though he decided to wait for a bit until sneaking forward since he didnt want to make it seem like he was stalking Jan.

Waiting even 15 minutes was like torture for Remus and not even the type of torture he would enjoy!!! After using up his entire supply of attention span he let himself drop down from the ceiling and inched forward to get a better view of Janus from behind the bookshelves.

The human was sitting by his usual table facing away from where the demon was hiding. Remus smiled to himself over how smart his human was. Though the demon soon noticed the way Janus' shoulders were shaking. He moved a little closer and heard a muffled cry.

The light from the computer was illuminating Janus' face making the rest of him look enveloped in shadow. unless Remus moved to the other side of the room he couldnt read his expression but he could just about make out what was written on the laptop. He'd seen similar pages open on Logan's computer sometime, someting about grading classes. Though it sort of looked like the page of Janus' computer was different from how the usual grading looked.

Every part of Remus' body urged for him to go forward and hold Janus but he knew in his mind this was one of those times him disturbing and being his annoying self was to be avoided. He silently stayed in the shadows until Janus had dried his tears and left.

--

23 days

"No! No! Put- put those back!" Virgil's words were twisting over each other to get out leaving a stuttering mess on his tongue "Stop packing your shit up! You're not moving! We're not moving! WHa- Why-"

"Sure Vivzy let me just put this fake candle from tesco back on this desk and everything will stay the exact same"

"Why didn't you tell me dude! 4 days! You've known for 4 fucking days! Just throwing a big life shitsurprise in my face so I can- I-"

Virgil's eyes stagnated and stayed staring unblinkingly at some spot in the air as his entire body crumpled in on itself. His shoulders bending inwards and his hands going up to his chest to drag the zipper of his hoodie up and down.

"Nononono" Janus let out in a single breathe. He reached his hands out and cupped Virgil's cheeks to make his friend face him. His eyes stayed unfocused looking right through him but it was better than staring at the air. "Long breathes Viv, long breathes"

He carefully took Virgil's hand in his and moved it against the pulse on his neck. He kept his breathing slow and gentle and waited for Virgil's eyes to focus on his.

"I've been trying to see if the collegeboard would let me keep living here and therefore I didn't want to tell you immediately incase everything would work out. Stressing out for no good doesn't help anyone does it now" Janus said while rubbing his thumb up and down Virgil's cheek "I failed my philosophy class Vivzy. It wasnt even close. Obviously that was my most dreaded least favorite not at all loved subject! If I couldnt even pass that I...I am not sure it is worth it to keep trying to get a deegree. I simply don't think my brain is built for the school system"

Virgil struggled between forcibly calm breathing to get out a few words "Your brain isn't wrong. You're smart"

He sighed softly "I know. I know. Such an insightful little nugget of wisdom. Sorry, couldn't stop the sarcasm. If everyone tells me i'm sssoo smart and that I have such a bright future in academics and I'm so bloody gifted and yet I can't function in this system what reason is there to not leave the system"

"You..can't leave me"

"Viiivzyy. Cmon now. Yes the moment I move I become legally unable to keep contact with any college student"

"But I live here and you're my roomate can't they-"

"Obviously i would neeeever ask that as my first thing. They told me that if I decide to drop out I have to move out in a month"

Virgil took a deep breathe "I can still study even if i have take the trolly every morning. We can look for an apartment together. We can live together! We're basically already doing that!"

"It won't be as cheap as here"

"Do they let you keep working as a help librarian?"

"Yes"

"great. And without the studies you have more time to work. And I can take more night shifts. We'll split the rent. Live in some shit place"

"Who abducted my Virgil and replaced you with someone just a tad bit optimistic" Janus said while letting go of his friend as he felt his breathing slow down and stagnate like normal "We can shoot a few shots to keep the rent low"

"No. JAN you cant bring up doing crimes! You know how fucking anxious even the thought makes me!"

"Do a few drugs"

"JA-"

"Publicly indecieve ourself even"

"-NUS!"

"Do my most favorite activity: tax evasion!"

"I'll do an ouija board seance and tell on your parents!"

Janus let up into a snort "Aww Vivzy, I could never leave you. We're like....BRothers!"

The other man's face went as pale as a sheet and it felt like his brain had just dropped to his stomach. Until Janus clapped his hands together and laughed so hard he had to turn away.

"Your face! Hah! I knew you would hate such a cheesy line!" He pretended to wipe away a tear "Ah nothing like some good comedy to cheer you up"

"..Right yea...It was too cheesy....That's why I reacted" Virgil hoped his blushing wasn't visible. He rolled his eyes "But I'm not helping you pack! That's what you get for stressing me out like that!"

"Aww no packing for lil ol me????"

"None of this furniture is ours. Im pretty sure you can handle putting all of those bottles of face creams in a box without breaking your arms"

Janus held his hands up and did an overly extra pout "You never know!"

Virgil let out a deep breathe before punching his friend in the shoulder "You asshole! You really fucked me up with thinking you were going to leave! Dont do that! Dude!!"

He continued to pout "Would playing boyfriend and girlfriend help? Like when were little? Cheer you uuuupp?"

"Shut up! You keep packing and I'll start looking for cheap rentals" Virgil was quiet for a minute before hesitantly asking "...So you are dropping out? For sure? Just like making extra sure here dude"

"Yes"

"Really sure?"

"Yes"

"...Okay then...Im glad or something dude I guess"

--

25 days

Remus arrived late to his lesson with Logan and didn't even bother to sit down before sliding a poster onto the desk right in front of the older demon. It was a poster showing all of the plays the local theather troupe was going to put on within the next 2 months.

"I understand that you are lonely but I can not say in honest that I have any particular interest in plays" Logan replied.

He shook his head and moved to write on the closest paper but Logan waved his hand to stop him.

"Could you try signing it to me? When I told my husband we couldn't communicate he thought it was a brilliant idea to learn sign language so therefore ever since I have been practicing"

Remus dumbed his signing down a lot and moved his hands slower than usual to help his teacher to understand 'My human loves theatre. Date idea. you understand. Need help which theatre I should invite human to?'

He gave Logan a look to see if he'd understood and in response Logan put on his reading glasses and skimmed the poster once more.

"Am I understanding it correctly as you intending to hear explanations of the plays plots from me so you can decide which to ask the person out on?"

The demon's tail wagged as he nodded.

"Well I might not be the most knowledgable on this particular topic however I am knowledgable in general and I unlike you have acess to google, in other words sure"

--

30 days

"Whos afraid of Virginia Woolf!" Remus exclaimed at the same time as he slammed a poster on to the front desk of the library.

Janus glanced at the poster before clapping with the least energy possible "Wow. Congratulations on learning how to read"

Once more Remus had gotten all jittery when he had seen Janus starting his shift at the library. This time he had already prepared a damaged book he'd found in one of the shelves so he would have a reason to talk to the human and he'd made sure to wait until all of the most impending work had been done. His human's shoulders had slumped as he worked like he was exhausted just from existing and his eyelids were dropping down threatening to close any second now.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows together and pointed at the poster again.

"In case you're genuinly asking I for one am not afraid of Ms. Woolf because she has been dead for quite some time now and I am quite sure I could easily defend myself against a rotting corpse. A remarkable cool death though. Anyhow, I am working. Goodbye"

Janus took ahold of a cart with a few large bookstacks on top and started walking around shelf to shelf and placing the books into the correct order. It only made Remus walk beside him instead.

"You like plays! I remember! You said so! I asked teacher Logan about it and I think you would like it!! it has uhh lying and trickery and deceiving! And it has Wolf in the title. Logan said my name means wolf" He had a stupid smile on his face as he said it.

"Really, I thought your name meant that you're the less interesting twin" Janus muttered back while continuing to put up books without looking at the other man.

Remus pressed his face up against the bookcase to try and get Janus to look at him "If I did something wrong you gotta say it! I am literally stupid!!! If you looked at my papers my gender marker would be write as idiot!"

In response Janus pushed the cart directly into Remus' abdomen so he was forced to move back "Oh great! Play the idiot card, What a classic! Are you planning on having me recite all of it so you can laugh about it. How sweet. Would love to go into every detail but I have to go and get an axe to chop your dick off with"

"Hah! Jokes on you! I would like that!"

"Actually I was lying. I can't afford an axe. Just this cart" He pushed the cart right into Remus' stomach again.

Remus grabbed onto the side of the cart to not fall over "If I did something say something! Was it- Did I suck at kissing? At sex? At driving? Everything??"

"Sweetie it's because you killed my beloved pet hamster"

"Wha- Noooo. I think I would remember that- Oh you were being sarcastic..." Remus replayed everything he could remember from the date as he continued to walk close behind his human. All of a sudden it was like a lightning bolt from the sky hit his head and he spat out "Was it cause I asked bout your face?"

Instead of a reply he simply got a glare.

"OooooOOh. OoooooOOOOOHHHHH. JANNIE! I didn't even think that has possibility to be the thing I did wrong! I had forgotten! I-"

"Don't even"

With another cart slam Remus was pushed out of the way and Janus continued down the shelf. The demon could feel his body turning cold down to his bones and he gulped back bile as sweet as heaven.

"DON'T YOU THINK I FEEL LONELY TOO!?" Remus yelled out.

Janus stopped and scowled at him for a moment before moving close to him and pressing a finger against his lip "Are you insane!?" He whispered "We're in a library you stupid muppet!"

Remus pushed his finger away and continued in a hushed tone "I haven't seen my brother or my friends in a month! YOU! You're the only fucker I have right now. Do you really think I'd give all that up for for some stupid fucking lie!? To insult you? For what? Tell me ONE thing that you think is worth jokes about that I am not more worse about!"

To both of theirs surprise tears welled up in Remus' eyes. Ever since getting cast out he'd been trying to hold them back and even now he fought to keep them from rolling down his cheek.

"You-" His voice cracked "You're the only one I have Jannie. Do you want a sorry 'cause I didnt think. I said stupid shit cause my brain is snot during sex and I hadn't noticed your scar until I was smooch drooling all over your cheek!"

Janus let out a scoff "You hadn't seen the scar covering half of my face until just then, well what a coincidence darling!"

"OKAy Okay I have not gouged eyes out yet! I did see but-" The argument, or rather, arguments he had had with his brother suddenly came to the surface of his mind and he took a deep breathe. He crossed his arms to form an X "Break time. I am not thinking clearly..I do not want to be mad and spew shit. Can I breathe for few seconds and explain then?"

The human was taken aback by it but nodded eventually. He leant up on his toes to wipe a tear away from Remus cheek "It's time for my break anyhow. Fancy a cup of tea?....You bastard" He added that last part to not give any impression of friendliness.

The demon trailed behind into the worker's tiny break room. Since Janus was alone on his current shift the two of them were the only ones in there. Remus sat down by a table and gathered himself while the other man made some tea.

"Honey or milk in it?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Salt and poison thanks"

" Of Courssse"

He sat the cups down on the table "Finished with breathing for a few seconds" Janus asked half sarcastically.

"Uhh yeahh. So you uhm I didn't do anything wrong except asking bout your face?"

"You did also ask it right when we were about to have gay sex so that was also very much appreciated" Janus had been hung up on the dead look in Remus eyes as soon as it started to become intimate but he didn't want to bring it up in case it was some sort of sore spot. He wasn't completely heartless after all.

"....Bad timing?...." He genuinly asked.

"Noooo. Perfect timing. No notes!"

"Ougghghg ouch. I did see your face when we meet but didnt think of it. Thinked as much about Virgils pimples when I saw him for first time. I only thought about your face because the uhm Texture...." he searched for the right word while snapping his fingers "The uhh feeling? The feeling of your skin was so new and cool and other good words-"

"I will actually throw you out the window if you even try to imply my scar makes me beautiful somehow. I am unbeliviable hot and beautiful" He said it in a completely neutral tone "And my scar does not add or subtract to that in any way. It's simply a part of my face. The only idiots who make a fuss about it are other people"

"No. No. Jan. Feeling! Cool feeling! I wanna like lick your face or rub me fingies to it. I don't think it is a whole thing"

Janus pretended to check his nails while still wearing gloves.

"My best friend" Remus continued but stopped as he didn't know how to explain the way having white hair made Remy...different "My best friend has similar stuff. That's why I know sign!" He remembered the incident at the club, the way the other succubi had looked at him the moment they'd seen the white spot of his hair "Have you met me?? Not like I am uhhh non demented either. And I got a bunch of scars too! Look!!"

Without any hesitation he pulled up his shirt to show off the scattered scars he had around his waist. He started to point at them one at a time.

"This one I got 'cause my brother stabbed me with a for-"

"Wow yeah great idea to have a whole strip show while there are cameras in here" Janus interrupted.

"OH! Not to mention my ass! One time my anus ripped and now-" Remus turned around and moved to pull his pants down but Janus grabbed his wrists in panic to stop him.

"I am not losing my job because of an idiot shaped like a person!"

The demon searched his face for any hint of laughter or even a spark of joy but despite his attempt the human still looked just as miserable.

Remus tightly took Janus' hand in his and pressed his forehead against his skin as he closed his eyes. His lips quivered as he spoke.

"I- I don't know what to do if you don't forgive me"

Janus looked at him in silence for at least a full minute during which Remus didn't let go of his hand even for a second. He held onto him so hard his nails turned pale white.

"....Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf...Is actually one of my favorite plays..."

The demon looked up to see the slightest of smiles on Janus' lips. The human leant forward and sweeped a piece of loose hair behind Remus' ear. Janus hadn't realized just how frail he looked until he'd seen him with his slightly sunken cheeks and eyebags deep enough to store a closet on the verge of tears. Suddenly it had seemed so silly to think he would have been playing him for a fool when Jan could barely imagine how much he'd lost to get here.

"JAANNNIIIEEE" Remus let up into a wail while climbing on the table to lump him into a tight hug.

"Yeah yeah. There there dear" He patted him aimleesly on the back.

"You won't leave me?"

"Why is everyone I know so obsessed with me leaving them all of a sudden, but yes sure I will go see the amateur rendition of the play with you" His smile widened "If you'll do something for me"

Remus perked up "MUrder!? Poison!! Guioltine making!?"

"Darling, You are not at all concerningly easy to convince"

"Anything Janny boy!"

"I wasn't even requesting you to do anything for me!"

"I¨ll kill them! And their little dog too!"

"Whos them?" Janus shook his head and rolled his eyes at the same time which is a high level of bitchery "Nevermind. Remind me to take everything you say with a cold glass of salt"

Remus looked at him with wide bordering on puppy dog eyes and a stupid grin which made Janus want nothing more than to caress his equally stupid cheeks and press a kiss to his equally brain dead nose. Instead he settled for playfully running his finger along the demon's chin.

"Darling I have just the idea for what you'll do for me"

[purplehelleborewrites]

Bite Back

The Price of Flesh fanfic, JackxTrans masc main character.

Warnings/notes: Graphic sexual content, violence, non-con, threats of non-con, mild transphobia, "drugged" non-con, threads of genital mutilation.

Minors DNI. Please read and abide the warnings, I'm not fucking around with them.

Fuck you, Derek.

I slid down loose sand to the shaded fissure below, keeping my balance with my hand against the rocks. The canteen around my neck--my prize for sucking his worthless dick--bounced against my chest, and I eagerly unscrewed the cap.

My first sip was to rinse the iron-bitter taste of blood and cum out of my mouth, spit at my feet. The rest disappeared down my throat before I could stop myself, gasping for air as the last drop slid across my slashed tongue. Mind calmed by the lukewarm water, I took time to search around.

Kicking a dead lizard aside, I climbed down deeper, blue catching my eye. Water.

I scrambled to my knees beside it, plunging the canteen into the water. As it filled, I froze in place. Something about it smelled…off. Chemical. Dangerous. I replaced the canteen around my neck--at least it was wet and cool against my chest--and stood.

The sky was darkening already, dotted with more stars than I’d ever seen in my life as a city boy. Beautiful, but the chill of night in the desert was starting to sink into my bones. Taking a deep breath, I climbed back up the fissure and into the open desert.

Lights in the distance pointed me toward the camp. I moved slowly, silently, towards it. Maybe it would have tools. Water. Food. That was, if it was empty and not full of assholes waiting to kill me.

It was empty. I rifled through their little stockpile, and my stomach sank. Only empty canteens. I took the one from around my neck and carefully stashed it between the others. Maybe someone would drink it. Hope you shit yourself inside out and die.

I moved back through the open desert at a slow run--too dangerous, too open--and climbed up the hill. A quick search found a pair of rocks I could sleep between, curled up like an animal but protected from the cold breeze that had picked up. Pillowing my head on my arms, I closed my eyes.

There was no way I would sleep. I could hear every shift of sand, every pebble tumbling away from where my body curled up tighter. This couldn’t be safe. Derek would find me again. Or that asshole in the dog mask. They would do to me what they did to that poor blonde girl. My body was quickly going numb with fear, but exhaustion ripping my consciousness away.

The next thing I knew, sunlight burned through my closed eyes. I groaned, wishing I had more water, and climbed down the hill. No Derek in the open desert, no sound of the four-wheeler, but I made quick work crossing it anyway.

As I made my way back down the fissure again, I heard screaming. A feminine voice. I got down low and crept closer.

Jack had the woman with the nosering on the ground in front of him, and kicked her in the stomach. “You’re fiery. I like that,” he chuckled and tipped his mask up to drink from the canteen that hung at his belt.

I don’t know what the fuck possessed me, but I grabbed the nearest rock and threw it. It bounced against his back and clattered to the ground. “Hey!” I shouted, my dry voice cracking.

He turned instantly, eyes narrowing. “Oh, you wanna play hero, cunt boy?” he taunted. He left her on the ground and stalked towards me.

I retreated until my back hit stone, and curled my hands into fists.

Jack barked a laugh. “You think you’re a match for me, tough guy?” He grabbed me by the collar when I swung in at him, slinging me back into the wall. “Come on, then.”

Hands shaking, I lunged at him again.

He dodged me easily and knocked me to the ground with an elbow to my back.

I tried to roll over and get back up, but he kicked me first, the air whooshing out of my lungs. Groaning, I curled up to protect my stomach.

“Fine. One cunt or another…” he grabbed the back of my shorts and underwear, pulling them down at once while I kicked at him. He stopped when they got to mid-thigh and was so still that I finally looked back over my shoulder at him.

He swayed unsteadily on his feet, and stumbled towards me before crashing down on top of my legs so suddenly that I yelped, scrambling back from him.

The woman approached and looked at me, then at him, then at me again. “Did you do that?”

“I left a canteen at the camp. I think it’s poisoned water but…” I looked at Jack. His chest was still rising and falling. “He’s alive. Um. Also, I’m Ian,” I said as I got to my feet and pulled my shorts back up.

She nodded. “Jacqueline. We need to get out of here in case he wakes up.”

“I think he’s awake, but I get what you mean. There’s a hill not far from here if you cross the flat open part by the camp. Just stay towards the crooked rocks.” I stared down at Jack, the cold reality of what he was about to do to me making my stomach lurch.

“Thanks.” She turned to leave, then paused when she saw I wasn’t following. “Are you coming?”

Rage bubbled in my chest. The longer I stared at Jack’s prone body, the more I wanted to take a rock and bash his brains out. “Soon,” I said, the word sharp-edged.

Jacquline nodded slowly, and jogged off.

I kicked Jack in the face, hard enough that his mask flew off. The face underneath was handsome, even with blood flowing out of the corner of his mouth. If we’d met any other way, any other place, I’d find him hot, but like this…

“Can you hear me, motherfucker?” I snarled at him, looking around. I didn’t see a rock big enough to do what I wanted, so I kicked him again, this time in the stomach. His eyes widened, and I kicked him again, and again, but he didn’t scream, or move except with the force of my foot.

Panting, I dropped down beside him on my knees, and grabbed his belt, ripping his pants open. I wasn’t thinking--I just grabbed his dick. I wanted to rip the fucking thing off. Shove it down his throat until he choked to death. I yanked and I heard him intake a hard breath, dick twitching in my hand.

I stopped. And stared. He could feel this. I laughed, and felt something in me crack. All of this pain, being hunted, being terrified, and he was. Completely. Helpless. I could do anything I wanted to him.

“Hope you like friction burns, asshole,” I growled as I stroked him, fast, dry, and rough. He quickly grew hard in my hand, and I stopped when I felt him starting to drip precum. What the fuck am I doing? The logical part of my mind screamed, but I shoved it down.

“One cunt or another, right?” I got up and pulled my shorts down with shaking hands. Kicking them aside, I straddled him, aiming downward and spitting on his dick. He stared up at me, eyes fixed between my legs. “This is for me, not you,” I said, and guided him inside of me as I slammed my hips down on him.

I didn’t need the spit. A shocking amount of wetness gushed from me as our bodies met, driving a moan from my throat. I slammed my hands against the ground for leverage, gritting my teeth as I rode him.

“How does it feel being the one being violated?” I demanded through pants, grinding my testosterone-fat clit againt his body, shuddering at the feeling.

Jack said nothing, but his chest rose and fell quickly, eyes focused on my face.

I leaned into him harder and sped up. I didn’t expect to enjoy this--I just wanted to hurt him--but every time his cock buried to the hilt, I groaned. The sweet sting of pain of him stretching me open, the burn of the sand under my knees, just added to the pleasure.

God, I didn’t want this son of a bitch to make me come, but the sick rush of power combined with the swell of my clit against his body, made my legs muscles tighten and shake. I’m so fucked up, I’m so fucked up.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming as I came, frantically riding out my orgasm until I sagged, exhausted.

Jack twitched hard, and even in my stunned haze of pleasure, I scrambled off of him so he wouldn’t come inside of me. I was just in time to see him come, white shooting all over his shirt, his jacket, his jeans. The mess made me smile.

I stood and dressed with trembling, fumbling hands. I’ll go find a rock, end this all--

His hand moved towards me.

All of my rage drained away and I ran, scrambling up the side of the fissure, blindly sprinting into the open desert. My heart was going to explode in my chest. He might find me. He might catch me, but a small part of me was at peace with that.

No matter what he did to me, I’d bite back again.

[fallingstar-wwmseries]

Part/Episode — 01 —

“Long range Comms just went out,” Vok reported through gritted teeth, his hand pressed against his side to slow the bleeding. “Ninety two percent of weapons are down, the sub-light engines are battered and questionable at best, and we have power fluctuations all over the place.”

“How are the FTL drives doing,” Captain Conto asked while desperately trying to reroute every ounce of power he could find to the engines and life support.

“Alive, but barely. We can expect them to go at any time now,” Vok answered while shaking his head and scanning his console. “An hour, if we’re extremely lucky.”

Captain Conto sighed and slumped back in his seat. “There has to be something habitable we can make it to. A moon, or a desert planet, something.”

The Executive Officer looked at his Captain completely baffled, the thought of going anywhere but a friendly planet or military base hadn’t even crossed his mind. A warship carrying state or the art weaponry and tech, and being chased by relentless aliens, couldn’t just stop off somewhere to make repairs. The needed a safe haven.

“Sir,” he finally said, though hesitantly. “There are no bases in range, nor…”

“There’s something,” the Captain said in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t asking for an opinion. “So find it. Something with breathable air and some land. We’ll make due with that.”

He didn’t like it, not at all, but he did as ordered and pulled up the maps and scans of this sector. “There a moon thirty seven light years out, it wouldn’t be comfortable but we could survive there. But I feel it’s important to point out that the Routh will kill us far sooner than the environment possibly could.”

“But not as assuredly as staying here will kill us,” the Captain answered, his nerves clearly reach their limit. “Set the course, Vok.”

“Sir…” he hesitated, trying to find the words. “It is assured, it’ll just take longer and leave something for the Routh to find. Like tech, our weapons, maybe even some computers they can…”

“You have your orders,’ the Captain barked, then burst into a coughing fit that left him breathing heavy. “It’s a shit choice no matter what we do, but I’ve made my decision Vok. Make it happen.”

He looked at his Captain, a man he had long respected despite being such a hard ass, and decided he had no choice but to trust him. “Understood, sir,” he answered with a salute.

It took several minutes to get all the systems to to cooperate without failing but Major Vok managed to set a course to bring them into the system and take up orbit. The question was would the countless systems needed hold up long enough to get them there?

“Ok,” the Major said as he pressed the final command key. “Course is programmed into the auto pilot, but I’m guessing in the best case scenario we won’t be able to establish a stable orbit for more than an hour or so.”

“And not much will survive a crash landing,” the Captain said thoughtfully.

“Actually,” the Major said as he turned back to the console and started a search. “The planet does have large bodies of water. We’d have to get everyone off the ship, but most our equipment will survive. This beast was built for it.”

Conto smiled and sat back with a sigh. “Do we have enough pods and surviving birds to get everyone off the ship and safely landed on this moon?”

Major Vok stared back silently for a moment, then looked away in clear discomfort. “Well… no. Not quite. A good number of the escape pods have been destroyed or disabled, and we lost the primary hanger bay as well. We’re down to thirty two Phoenixes and four heavy transports.”

He looked at his Captain with horror on his face, and saw the look of near rage on the others face. “From the last report of survivors aboard… there will be twenty seven people left over.”

“Twenty seven…” he dropped his face into his hand and grumbled. “We can’t just…. Leave them behind… there has to be so,etching we can do.”

“The only thing I can think of…” the Major shook his head. “Even if we could find a way to survive the impact the ship would still sink. They’d be in an airtight room, but they’d run out of air before our transports could off load then come get them.”

“Maybe we could rig something up, using all the scrap parts around and a cargo crate,” Captain Conto said with a hint of wishing in his tone. “We don’t need anything fancy, just something to get them to the ground without dying.”

Vok looked away, letting himself hope and wonder for only a moment before the smoke in his eyes drove him back to reality. “No, sir. I’m sorry but that’s just not doable, not in the time we have.”

“Then let’s hear some ideas,” he said with a roar while jumping to his feet, then groaned as he held at his side.

“Sir…” the Major shook his head with a grim look, hating himself for it but knowing there was nothing to be done about it. “We have no options, we’re torn apart and missing half of… everything. If not more. I’m afraid…”

“That we have to just sacrifice them and be on our way,” Conto all but shouted as he took a step closer, rage on his face as he pointed accordingly at the Executive Officer. “You know if someone is going down with the ship…”

“It’ll be the two of us first on the list,” Vok came back a growing aggression. “I’m well aware of it and ready to do so. It’s the bullshit reality of where we are… sir. And frankly, at this point the formality of Command are out the window. You need to wake the fuck up and accept it, we are going down with the ship and we have ask for twenty five other volunteers. If we don’t get them, we go by lottery. Let’s the computer decided.”

The Major didn’t wait for an answer and spun around to work his console. “I’ll have the list in a minute then make the announcement and ask for those volunteers. You need to organize the evac and landing plans, then pick someone to take over when we’re both dead.”

The Captain glared at his second in command with simmering anger, disgusted he would be so flagrantly disrespectful and insubordinate; but it quickly faded into disgust with himself and mounting pain at the reality.

“Yeah… yeah, do that. And make sure everyone knows this is volunteer, I don’t want anyone feeling any pressure at all. I’ll…” he turned and started moving through the debris’s and bodies to head for his office. “I’ll start drawing up landing and survival plans, and organize the leadership.

“When you’re done, start securing anything that’s not destroyed, they’ll need everything we can save to survive.”

The Hyperspace window flickered and spun rapidly, unstable as the mammoth vessel passed through with a ripple in space time then collapsed with an unusual burst off eagerly that washed over the crippled vessel. Within second a violent explosion ripped the back section of the ship apart but didn’t take the rest of the ship with it.

Captain Conto struggled to pull himself up, a fresh stream of blood running down his face and a growing stain in his uniform. It took a lot of effort to drive himself up to his knees where he looked around in a haze, his eyes blurred and the room filled with smoke and sparking consoles.

“That…” he bent over as he coughed up blood. “That should… killed us…. Stat…. Status?”

The Major didn’t answer, all he heard was popping electronics and power lines, the one or two surviving alarm speakers, and crackling comms. He tried to look around and find his second, but he couldn’t see anything, and he was in no shape to go searching.

“Well,” he said to no one, not sure what to do or even really think. “Everyone else knows the plan…” he grimaced in pain while struggling to force himself to his feet, but stood with wobble or tilt while his head spun.

“AI…” he called hopefully, but not really believing it was more than a fools hope. Surprisingly, it answered.

“Captain Conto,” the AI spoke with a good imitation of regret and hesitation. “I am unsure what help I can offer, but if there is something I’m eager to provide it.”

“Will… will the ship, the crash landing, and the evac… will it still….”

“It will work,” The AI answered the question unhappily. “The crew is aware and fully informed, we’re still on plan, though it will be more difficult now.”

“The Major….”

“He’s…” the AI lit up a screen next to the Captain to display his avatar and his pained expression. “Alive, but not for long. I’m afraid we can’t help him.”

“Then what…” Conto dropped into his chair and slumped, nearly limp in the seat and breathing hard. “What’s next? What… what do we need… to do,?”

“Captain… there’s nothing to do… given you blood loss and head injury…” the AI paused, it’s voice imitating pain and grim hesitation. “Everything is as ready as it can be. You don’t need to do anything, Captain.”

He laughed but quickly Mae himself stop given the pain it caused. It was true, he knew there wasn’t anything more he could do given his condition. Conto was sure the AI was being nice for one reason, it wouldn’t be long before he joined the Major.

“I guess… I should… make some kind of announcement.” He smiled softly as his eyelids began to droop, growing steadily heavier. “Give them a pep talk while… saying my goodbyes.”

“I’m afraid there’s isn’t enough time, Captain. We’ll be in range to launch our first evac flights in just under an hour, and the crew has a lot to do before then. I suggest…”

“That a dying man’s ramblings would just be a distraction?” He said with amusement, his eyes nearly closed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, tell me, can you still send out one final status update back to Command?”

“I’m afraid with our nearly nonexistent transmitters the best I can do is an IFF ping and signal SOS.”

“I’ll… I’ll take it.” Contyo whispered, his eyes now closed as his head sagged.

“Would you like to record a message? The Block Box will save it.”

It took some time for him to muster enough strength to force out an answer. “No… what’s… what’s to say, huh?” He gave a weak chuckle then forced his eyes open. “It’s not really my stile. But thanks.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain?”

“Just, uh… just play some music… something… soft.” His eyes fell shut again and he went limp in his seat, his mind consumed by the sound of a full orchestra.

BY Josiah Lux

[veryrealimagination]

“I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Day No: 4

Prompt:n cattle prod

Fandom: Murdoch Mysteries

Medium: fic

Trigger Warnings: none

SFW

Ogden had a thrum of excitement and fear as she sneaked around the office building. Murdoch and her had entered the building, eerily deserted as they tried to find a person that was wanted in connection with a murder. Neither of their phones worked, which pointed to an illegal mobile jammer somewhere in the building. They had made way to go back outside and wait for backup from Crabtree and Higgins. Except the door had locked behind them, electronically as well.

Unsure on whether it was a trap, or a security function, the two decided to go further into the building. There had to be a person, or some sort of communication outside that they could find and figure out what was going on. Having gone through the first floor, and then the second, the third floor caused a bit of a problem. Searching two different rooms, the doors had latched behind them. And each produced a set of stairs. Hers went back down. Murdoch’s went up. Once they realized they wouldn’t be able to get back together, they went forward, being cut off from each other.

Admittedly, this felt like those cheesy spy films she watched late night while nursing Llewellyn. She still watched them when he started sleeping through the night, and then when she was cursed with writer’s block. The main character walking through an evil boss’s base trying to find the MacGuffin before it can destroy a nation or take over the world.

A lot funner than the stuff around Terrance Meyers and what happened in their last lives. And that blasted Allen Clegg. Thank someone that they haven’t come back to haunt them yet. She knows that Clegg will attack her family this time. Meyers might threaten them as well.

She heard new noises, coming down to this area. She was back on the second floor, she figured, but this was an area cut off from them this time. They had been seeing normal offices and cubicles. This was a much more threatening area. Industrial, it appeared to be the inner workings of the building. Water pipes and heating vents. She kept going, carefully looking around corners and making sure her footsteps weren’t echoing loudly. Thankfully, she switched shoes. Instead of the heels that she normally wore, it was running shoes thanks to joining William in the morning. She hadn’t switched before going with him.

The end of the corridor led back up and she shook her head before going back up to floor three. This time, she didn’t end up in the offices, but behind the scenes. Continuing forward, she wondered if it would also led up, and eventually she could find a door to rejoin Murdoch.

She had not noticed the item coming at her, had not noticed the person that quickly appeared at her left before something was shoved into her ribs. Something blasted through her body and she screamed in pain before dropping to the ground.

*Oh, bloody hell, that hurt worse than slipping on black ice and crashing to the ground during a Toronto February blizzard.*

Unable to move away, the item came down again and she barely saw before it was placed against the opposite side and triggered. It might have been the same amount of time. Might have been less or more. She couldn’t tell. Just let out another pain filled wail before her body registered that it had stopped.

After the pain managed to leave a tiny bit away from her mind, she noticed that the person was holding a long stick with two metal pieces at the end. *Prod, oh that was a cattle prod. Fucking bastard, I’m still feeling the shocks.* The person holding it was wearing a mask and covered well enough that she can’t tell who it is.

The thing came down at her again.

“Oh, don’t you-” she tried, before a third time caused her to scream in agony. Ogden finally fell unconscious when her body couldn’t handle it any more.

[coolfireguy73]

Monster/Cryptid TF2 story Pt.5

(Read this for context)

Day broke once again over the almost deserted town. An idea she had during the night pushed Miss Pauling to venture outside as the sun barely illuminated the dark streets of the town. She was taking a big risk, and she knew it, but what she was about to do was even more so.

With a small bag in her hand and a gun in the other she paced the streets in silence, hoping to find the mercenary she had met the day before. She had taken good note of what Engi had told her and, contrary to what he thought, she thought she could coax him. It's also why she left without saying anything. However, she would like to find him quickly, this city was not that big, he had to be somewhere...

A few hours later, only 2 to be exact, Engi finally came out of his room, he had thought about the discussions he had with Miss Pauling the day prior and, although he was still against it, he was ready to try to find a compromise with her. Turning to face what he thought was going to be Miss Pauling on the couch, he stopped short.

Seeing his reaction Miss Pauling tried to explain herself: - "Don't worry, he won't attack us, I made sure of it." She said, putting herself between Engi and Scout who was eating a sandwich on the sofa. His eyes wide open, he was watching the other two talk, ready to react if necessary. -"Why did you bring him here ?" - "He agreed to let me take a sample of his blood if I gave him something to eat." -"But why here?! This hideout is compromised." - "Where did you want me to take him? The others would attack us." Engi sighed: -"Alright..." He turned his gaze to Scout still there watching them, he had finished his sandwich. -"More. A-and water." He said, then paused. He looked hungry, "Please..." - "Can you get him a glass of water ?" Miss Pauling asked. She took the opportunity to search the room for anything that could contain a blood sample.

Engi returned to Scout with a glass of water and some bread. The hungry boy almost snatched it from his hands and swallowed it all up like an animal afraid of having its food stolen if it doesn't eat it whole. This gave Engi plenty of time to observe Scout more closely, usually he would runs from house to house avoiding him and the others, it was the first time he could see him up close.

As he suspected, he was sad just to look at, like the others, however he was the only one of few to visibly suffer from his condition.

Miss Puling came back to them with a small glass bottle and a knife, she sat next to Scout: -"Give me your hand" He was reluctant. "Trust me" she added. Hesitantly he held out his hand to her. She held it and used the knife to make a small cut on one of his fingers and scooped a few drops into the bottle. -"And There you go." She smiled at him, to show that he had been right to trust her, then went to put the bottle away. Engie got up and followed her. -"What now?" She stopped and thought about it for a second, she asked: -"Scout was the last to be contaminated ?" -"Before last." -"Hm... And the first two were ?" -"Medic and sniper...Where are you going with this ?" - "If they have indeed been infected by something, it would be easier to detect in the first contaminated." He was afraid to know what idea she had in mind: -"I'm going to stop you right there, it was dangerous enough to bring Scout here but there's no way we're trying the same thing with Medic or Sniper." - "Wait, listen Engi, we have one of them to help us now... and I have a plan."

(Sorry It took so long, as I said I was working on the story and the origin of this... infection thing. Thats and some personal stuff made work kinda slow and also I was working on another project so... yeah.

It's shorter than the rest of the parts I believe but I hope you'll like it anyway. I'm sorry again for any typo etc... It's great to have my motivation back at 4 am :') )

[andreafmn]

Heartbeat - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3.7K

Story Description: (Y/N) Marks had no free time. From studying for med school, working her rounds for clinical, and the occasional babysitting her sisters sprung on her, she was all booked up. But none of that stopped her from aiding her sister and their best friends to rob a grocery store. She could have never guessed those couple of minutes would be enough to change her life forever or that it would lead to her meeting the man that would catalyze that shift.

Mood Board/Character Face Claim

Chapter: 3/?

Warnings: graphic mentions medical procedures and possible death, mentions of blood and violence

A/N: Had to repost chapter three for some reason. But, here it is. Give some love to this story, please 😬 I love it too much

If you enjoy my writing, I’ll also be posting them with original character inserts in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or if you have any requests! My inbox and comments are open. Remember that to be tagged you must allow tagging on your settings.

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Chapter 3

“Before getting to what you need to do,” he licked his lips. “I’m gonna need to make sure you don’t got anything on you that can be used against me.”

“I have a bag full of medical equipment that could harm you,” she retorted. “Need I remind you I am here as a doctor. And if you contacted me, it’s because there is someone that needs medical attention.”

(Y/N) knew she was pushing her luck, but she had the upper hand at that moment. And she was going to play it.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little body check, (Y/N),” the man chuckled. “Or is there something you’re hiding from me, sweetheart?”

“I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Then you won’t oppose to a little body search.”

“Fine.”

The girl set down her bag on the floor, spreading her arms and legs into a star pose. He neared her slowly, his eyes perusing her body like she was the last drop of water in the desert. The man stalked his prey, taking his time to drink in her image before placing his hands on her.

He started by the arms, making the hairs on her body stand upright, directing chills all over her veins. His hands were rough, a little calloused. He drove up her arms, kneading her skin softly through the long-sleeve T-shirt she had on. He landed on her shoulders before falling to the sides of her breasts, earning a strangled breath from (Y/N).

She had been holding her breath since she first felt his touch, but the closeness of his hands to such a sensitive area drew out an unconscious sound from within. (Y/N) felt his breath on her neck as he chuckled at her reaction. He was so close she wasn’t sure where his body stopped and hers began.

The man continued the search, sleuthing for something he knew was not there. The most dangerous weapon the girl had on her body was her smile – one glance of it and she could have whatever she wanted, not that he’d tell her.

They both knew he was toying with her, coming up with a baseless excuse to feel up her body. But neither minded much. If there was a speck of honesty between the pair, they would confess that they’d rather forget there was a person in need of medical help and engage in a more… physical activity.

A minute later, the man was standing in front of her. “I need to check the front too,” he said.

She nodded her head slowly and gulped loudly. His eyes never left hers, that cocky grin plastered on his face.

He repeated the same steps he’d done from behind. He started at her arms, slowing down on (Y/N)’s most sensitive spots – her chest, her hips, between her thighs. The only thing keeping her up was the knowledge that once he was done, she had to treat a patient.

“Well, Ms. Marks,” he cleared his throat. “It seems you were telling the truth.”

“You may be surprised, but I often do,” she retorted. “Now, can we go see if my patient is still alive?” 

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” the man chuckled. “Someone would have already told me if they were dead.”

“I’m sorry, they?”

He motioned for her to follow him, and she scrambled to grab her bag. He led her down two corridors, ending up in front of a room with a closed door.

Behind, there was a scene (Y/N) wasn’t quite prepared for.

Five men, all with different emergencies, were loudly arguing about who was at fault for their injuries. The man with a knife in his leg was being yelled at by a man with a dislocated shoulder; the man with a deep laceration on his arm and chest was yelling at the man with a wound on his shoulder; another man with a wounded shoulder was yelling at all of them. The mix of Spanish and English had (Y/N)’s head spinning, unsure of where to start.

“Excuse me,” she managed to peep out. “Excuse me!”

“YO!” the man yelled out, earning complete silence from the room and their full attention. “The lady is speaking. Go ahead, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” she sighed. “I need to know what wounds I’m treating, and I’m gonna need a clean room to perform whatever procedures I need to.”

“Alright, you heard the lady,” he commanded. “Blaze, Philly, make sure the room next door is completely clean. Don’t want these fools getting an infection. Anything else, ma?”

“I’ll let you know if I need anything else,” she smiled before turning to the man she recognized from his visit to Beth’s house. She took out a notebook to create a makeshift patient intake form. “Alright, I need to know which wound I need to treat first. So, what am I dealing with here?”

“These two, GSW to the shoulder. The bullet went right through, no major arteries hit,” he started. “That one obviously has a knife sticking out of his leg. My guess is nothing major was hit, there wasn’t much of a bleed. The other one has deep lacerations on his arm, chest, and back – I think closing him up with a suture is fine. We were able to get everyone’s bleeding under control. And, obviously, there’s the dislocated shoulder.”

“You seem to know your stuff. Any medical training?”

“Nah, I just watch a lot of medical shows,” he shrugged.

(Y/N) made her way to the man with the knife stuck to his leg, the only one whose condition they weren’t certain of.  “What’s your name, sir?”

“Do I look like a sir?” he spat aggressively.

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down,” (Y/N) asserted herself. “Or I can deal with everyone else and leave you to possibly bleed out right here. It’s your choice.”

“It’s Francis,” he grumbled. “My name is Francis Kirk.”

“Alright, Francis. I’m student doctor Marks,” she smiled forcefully. “Since you were wounded to right now, has there been any massive bleeding in the area?”

“No,” he groaned.

“Okay, that’s a good sign.” (Y/N) then called out to the room. “Do any of you know how big the blade on this knife is?”

“It’s four and a half inches,” the man with the dislocated shoulder answered. “Can I get it back when it’s out of this fool?”

“Okay, that’s deep enough that it may have nicked an artery,” she spoke to herself. “Twitch, I’m gonna need to check on his leg here. Move everyone else to the sterile room. I’m gonna need your help here in case the knife did pierce through an artery. I’m certain you guys want to keep this out of the hospital. So, I need your boss to know that if it did get that deep, and I’m not able to cauterize that vein in time, he could die.”

“I’ll let him know,” Twitch scrambled. “Okay, guys, let’s go to the next room.”

As everyone left what (Y/N) could only make out as a storage room for… Christmas wrapping paper, Francis started fidgeting. She could tell he was worried about the reason behind everyone’s departure. But what worried her was that he was beginning to show signs of going into shock – clammy and pale skin, rapid breathing, and his eyes were looking frantically around as if he was dizzy.

“Francis, I’m gonna need you to keep very still, okay?” (Y/N) instructed as she pulled out sterile gloves from her bag before checking the man’s pulse. “The knife is deep enough that it could have nicked an artery and I need to act quickly if it did.”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die,” he breathed out. “I’m gonna die, aren’t I, Dr. Marks?”

“Not if I can help it,” (Y/N) tried to ease. “I’m gonna need you to lay down, okay? And remember, try not to move too much.”

“The room’s spinning, doc,” Francis panicked as she helped him lay down. “I can’t… I can’t breathe.”

“HEY! I need someone in here!” (Y/N) called out to anyone. Francis was losing consciousness and there was a possibility he could stop breathing. She needed to ensure that the knife didn’t move even a millimeter more. “Francis, I’m gonna need you to stay with me now. Keep those eyes open.”

“I can’t, doc,” he slurred. “They’re so hea…”

As Francis started to flutter his eyes closed, his boss burst through the doors, Twitch following behind.

“What’s going on?” he worried. “Francis was fine.”

“He’s gone into shock,” (Y/N) explained. “I’m gonna need you to hold his leg very still while I check his pulse.”

The man knelt and held onto Francis’s leg, his eyes following the girl’s every move. She placed two fingers on the injured man’s neck, checking his pulse.

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

“He has a weak pulse,” she answered as she placed a finger under his nose. She quickly sprung to action and started hands-on CPR. “His breathing is too staggered.”

“What can I do?” Twitch asked.

“Do you know CPR?” He nodded. “I’m gonna need you to continue compressions on his chest while I take care of the stab wound. You,” she pointed at the boss. “Sanitize your hands and put on some gloves, I’m gonna need your help if this starts to bleed hard.”

She took scissors out of her bag, cutting the man’s pant leg carefully around the wound as the man in front of her slipped on a pair of gloves. The fabric was already soaked in blood as she discarded it to the side, a slopping sound following it hitting the ground.

“In the bag, you’re gonna find something labeled clot gauze,” she directed. “If when I pull the knife out there is a massive bleed, I’m going to need you to press the gauze into the wound as I prep my materials to stop the bleed. You’ve gotta be quick. Can you do it?”

“Yes,” he affirmed. The man rummaged through the bag and pulled out the gauze. “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I’m gonna pull the knife out now.”

(Y/N) wrapped her hand around the handle, tugging softly upward. She breathed out and prepared herself for the worse. And speak of the devil and he shall appear. As soon as the blade was completely unsheathed the wound spurted blood, splashing her sweater and face with blood.

“Go,” she commanded. “Put it in, now.”

“How much do I put in?”

“As much until we can stop the bleeding.” (Y/N) let him stuff the wound, rummaging through her bag for some iodine, a scalpel, a stretch band, and a suture kit. “Twitch, can you check his pulse?”

“I-I don’t know how.”

“Just count it out until I tell you to stop.” As he started, she looked down at her watch. She only needed fifteen seconds. “Alright, stop. His pulse is getting a bit low – it’s at 58. Keep those compressions going, Twitch. Don’t stop.”

“Wh-what’re you doing?” the boss asked as (Y/N) wrapped the stretch band carefully around the leg. He was clearly getting worried about Francis.

“I’m applying a tourniquet to his leg to stop the flow of blood to it. That way I can find whatever is causing the bleed and close it up,” she explained. Her hands worked gently, but swiftly. He wasn’t sure how, but she was making everything look so easy. “This will also alleviate some of the pressure on his heart. Once I stop the flow it won’t need to try so hard to pump more into the leg.”

“Look, the bleeding has stopped,” he mused.

“Perfect,” she breathed. She drenched the area with the iodine solution and the scalpel, making sure it was as clean as possible. “Once I open this up more, I’m gonna need you to hold the wound open until I find the nicked vein.”

“Yeah, alright.”

(Y/N) could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had done many of these procedures whilst working in the emergency department, but she had always been accompanied by someone that knew more than her. In this situation, she was the professional and all the pressure fell on her.

She took steadying breaths before pressing the tip of the scalpel onto the skin after removing the clot gauze. She needed to move quickly, and there was no room for mistakes.

“Okay, take your index and middle finger and spread the area open, enough to let my hand fit through.” After he did as told, (Y/N) slid her hand in and felt around for the wounded vein. “I’ve got it. I’m gonna need you to open this up a bit more while I sew this vein shut.”

She packed some more gauze around the nicked vein, clearing her way for the sutures. (Y/N) opened the new kit and set to work on closing the nick. Suturing had become second nature after all the practice and all the patients she’d had to close up at the hospital. Making sure to do the right sutures was the hard part. But with the forceps, she closed the small incision the knife had left on the vein. As she looked at her work, she took in a breath she didn’t know she needed. The hardest part was over.

“Check his pulse again, Twitch.” Fifteen more seconds. “Alright, heart rate’s going up, but keep compressions going. You can take your fingers out. I’m gonna close the incision now.”

Superficial sutures were easy enough, she had done a couple just mere hours before. It only took a minute before she was relieving the stretch band and starting to dress the wound.

“Wow,” the boss breathed. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Stop compressions,” (Y/N) instructed. She removed her bloodied gloves and checked Francis’s wrist for his pulse. “His heart is beating steady. It seems he’s gonna be okay for now. Let’s transport him to the clean room so I can start an IV line. I’ll start treating the others after. Now, on three, Twitch, you’re gonna grab him by his armpits. You’ll grab that leg, and I’ll take this one.”

On her count, the trio lifted the man and carried him to the room where the rest of the injured were quiet for the first time. All conversation ceased when they saw their friend unconscious.

“Place him on this table, carefully,” she mandated. “And get me something to perch the IV bag on.”

“Does that lamp work?” Twitch asked.

“Yeah.”

After finding a vein, (Y/N) started an IV drip with 10 milligrams of morphine. The man would be in enough pain as he recovered. She then clipped the bag to the highest part of the lamp and allowed the drip to do its work.

As Francis recuperated, (Y/N) set to work on her other patients. Marcos and Willie were her GSW patients, followed by Danny the laceration victim, and finally Ethan with the dislocated shoulder and the loudest mouth. Not once had he stopped complaining about his pain. She was suturing men with a simple lidocaine shot and he was crying over a popped shoulder.

“You know if it was so easy, you could have put my shoulder into place first,” he mumbled.

“I treat people depending on the emergency level,” she gritted her teeth. “Your popped shoulder is at the bottom of the list.”

“You could’ve at least given me something for the pain,” Ethan argued.

“The man you stabbed almost died an hour ago,” she exasperated. “My face, my clothes are drenched in his blood. Instead of complaining of a little pain, be thankful you didn’t lose someone from your side.”

At her outburst, the man finally quieted down, his head falling in shame.

“I can give you some Ibuprofen for the pain right now,” she sighed. “If the pain continues, continue taking it every six to eight hours and you’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” he answered sheepishly. “Thanks, doc.”

“Sure.”

(Y/N) needed a breath. She could feel the walls around her closing in on her and the eyes of everyone on her. She just needed a second.

She pushed through the door and closed it behind her. In the empty hallway, she allowed her back to hit the wall and she breathed. She closed her eyes and breathed.

“You did great in there,” his voice brought her back. “I would’ve thought you were already a doctor.”

“We could’ve lost Francis back there,” she sighed staggerdly.  “And I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

“You should go home,” he blurted.

“No, I’ve gotta wait until Francis wakes up to make sure nothing happens,” (Y/N) retorted. “After he wakes up, I’ll go.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Look, I need to make sure he’s okay!” She felt a tear fall from her eye. “Look, um, if I’m gonna continue treating your workers like this I’m gonna need you to get some medical equipment and medications. I took these things yesterday from the hospital, just in case. Once or twice I can probably get away with it, but if it becomes recurring…”

“You could get in trouble,” he finished. “Get me a list of what you would need in stock, I’ll make sure we have it for you.”

“Yo, he’s waking up,” Twitch interrupted.

(Y/N) followed behind the man, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. All she could hope for was that she didn’t damage his leg further than the initial wound.

“W-what happened?” Francis choked out before trying to sit up.

“Woah, Mr. Kirk,” (Y/N) stopped him. “I’m gonna need you to stay lying down for a sec.”

“Why am I hooked up to an IV? And why are you red, doc?”

“Well, Mr. Kirk, you went into shock,” she started. “When I removed the knife it revealed that your femoral artery had been nicked — there comes in this lovely hue you’ve painted me. But luckily we were able to get the bleeding under control and the vein stitched up. Now, I’m gonna need you to do something for me, Francis.”

“Anything, doc.”

“I’m gonna need you to push on my hand with your foot as hard as you can.” And he did. (Y/N) could feel a weight leave her shoulders — she didn’t paralyze him. “Good, that’s very good, Francis. Now, I’m gonna leave you some detailed instructions on how to care for your wound, alright?”

“Yes, thank you, Doctor Marks.”

“Sure thing,” she smiled. “No more stupid fights, alright?”

“Promise, doc,” rang out through the room from the ashamed men.

“Okay, you guys,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Take it easy now.”

She picked up the instruments she couldn’t sanitize and put them in a biohazard bag – probably would need to sneak it in with the hospital’s trash. Her rush was finally coming down and she could feel her hands starting to shake. It was no secret where she worked that she was always quick to action, a great diagnostician, and a proficient treatment doctor – most of the doctors she worked with told her that she had a gift. But there was a danger to doing all of this by herself. (Y/N) knew a lot, especially about the theoretical side of medicine, but what scared her was everything she didn’t know in practice.

“Go clean up your face,” the man interrupted. “I’ll pack your stuff up, ma. Twitch will take you to the bathroom.”

“Uh, sure,” she stammered.

She let go of the vials in her hands and turned to follow Twitch out of the room. Her breathing was staggered, and she felt her limbs going numb, tingling running through them. The crash after an adrenaline rush.

“You okay, doc?” Twitch asked before she nodded. “What you did in there was incredible, man. You could skip med school and just come work with us here.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I do need to at least finish up the last year and a half of med school,” she chuckled dryly. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll skip my residency and come straight to you guys.”

“Sounds good,” he laughed. “Bathroom’s through there.”

With a smile she disappeared through the doors, allowing herself to let out a strangled sob.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she wasn’t sure who was looking back. The image was straight out of a horror movie. Her face was splattered with dried blood, her auburn hair streaked as well. The grey t-shirt she had on was darkened by the crimson liquid. At the hospital, she was able to remove any sign of being involved in surgery before she looked at herself again. But these were her clothes, the way she had to walk into Beth’s house inconspicuously.

She ran the water, washing her hand furiously before rubbing her face. (Y/N) stared at the water running red down the sink, all evidence of the treatment disappearing with the stream. She gripped the edge of the counter, listening to the water droplets dripping onto it, focusing on her breathing. But a knock startled her.

“Yeah?” she called out.

“I got you some clothes, so you don’t have to go home looking like that,” the man offered. “And, uh, thank you for helping Francis out. We didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Thanks,” she responded. “And that’s what I’m here for. Please tell me this takes care of what I owe you.”

“Yeah, we square.”

“Great,” (Y/N) breathed out.

“But I’m guessing you’re not done here,” he chuckled. “You gonna come back? Start making some real money?”

“I was serious when I said you’d need to get some supplies. They cost a shit ton of money, but it’s better than having your people die,” she started. “Francis could have died today, bleeding out over a pissing war between your subordinates. And I understand why you would rather let him die than take him to a hospital, but I’ve seen far too many people pass because of gang violence. If you can’t control your own people, it’s not worth it.”

“A’ight,” he surprisingly affirmed. “Just get me that list.”

“I’m gonna have to text it to you,” she teased. “But I’m not allowed to contact you first.”

“I can make an exception,” he grinned. “Get home, (Y/N). You did some good work today.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) stopped the man. “I need a name, your name. I can’t keep calling you boss or that man in my head.”

“Rio,” he grinned. “You can call me Rio.”

[foreverindreamlandd]

The Sergeant's Heart +9+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

Series Summary: Sergeant Bucky Barnes has just joined the 107th, and he’s keen on learning the ins and outs of war from the best medic in the regiment, you.

WC: 6.5k

Warnings: Canon shit happens :(

A/N: Listen just like get tissues before reading and just know I'm sorry. And I love you. But also I'm very proud of this chapter. <3

Also hey @w0nderw0man91 remember when I told you that I had two ideas for one of your requests? One was fluff and the other was angst? Guess which one this is going to be. :,)

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

+++++++++++++

Your eyes would slowly flutter open from time to time, a nice reprieve from the constant darkness beneath your eyelids.

Images moved slowly through the thin veil of your barely open lids. Sunlight peeked through, the feel of arms cradling you registering in your brain as they held you. You were laying in the back of a jeep, you thought, racing toward some unknown destination.

The relief was short-lived as darkness found you once more.

+++++++

A harsh rocking stirred your eyes open next time as your body moved from side to side on the soft surface you laid on.

You were surrounded by metal. A window was next to you and you faintly registered trees whirring past you.

“She’s gotta wake up Steve,” an angelic voice waded through the waters of your mind. It was the loveliest sound you had ever heard.

Though lovely, it was also broken, coated with such devastating despair.

You tried to reach a hand out to the angel, to tell them it was okay, but it was impossible to move.

Another voice responded to the angel, but you couldn’t hear them. Your ears only searched for one sound, desperate for it to return.

When it did, rage replaced sadness.

“I’m going to rip Hydra to shreds. Destroy every last one of them.”

You wanted to ask what happened. Why they were so angry.

But darkness beckoned, calling you back to its warm embrace.

You prayed you would find the strength to return to the angel soon.

+++++++++++++

Finally, the darkness set you free, and you were able to open your eyes once again.

Only to close them willingly from the brightness of the harsh lighting above you.

Learning from this mistake, you slowly blinked them open, allowing a moment for them to adjust to your surroundings.

White. Lots of white. Your thumb stroked the wool blanket resting over you. Beeping sounds to your right compelled you to tilt your head to see what it was, but before your eyes could make their way to the monitors, they found a much better sight.

Chestnut hair on top of a sleeping figure leaning on the side of your bed, hand holding yours.

Bucky.

Instincts ignored any sense of logic as you leaned forward to reach for that lovely head of hair. The consequences revealed themselves instantly as pain rippled throughout your body and you hissed.

The sound jolted Bucky awake and his head shot up, displaying red-rimmed eyes surrounded by dark, unforgiving circles.

He looked at you in a daze, as if not completely believing that you were conscious. After blinking a few times and realizing that he was not, in fact, dreaming, his eyes widened and he jumped forward.

His hands cradled your face as fresh tears pooled in those beautiful blue eyes, now boring into you.

“Hi,” he whispered out.

You tried to chuckle but it quickly turned into a nasty coughing fit due to the fact that the inside of your mouth was a desert. Bucky moved back, looking to the side of your bed for the glass of water that sat on the table. He held it to your mouth as you took a few sips.

“Hi,” you croaked, voice a bit raspy from the lack of use. You took in his haggard features once more and frowned. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, chin dropping to his chest and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A small, bitter laugh escaped him.

“Y/n, baby, you’re in a hospital bed recovering from a bullet wound and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

You shrugged. “I’m a medic. It’s what I do.”

His expression looked pained. He sat on the side of the bed taking your hands in his, bringing them to his mouth as he peppered soft kisses along them.

“I’m feeling a hell of a lot better now that you’re awake. That you’re alive.”

“All thanks to my amazing assistant.”

He shook his head, jaw tightening.

Silence.

It was an uncomfortable one, a silence you weren’t used to sharing with Bucky. With him, everything felt natural. Safe. Comforting. You could spend hours next to each other without speaking a word and it would barely phase you. His presence itself was enough to keep you grounded.

Now, it felt like you were on totally different planets.

You tried to distract yourself from the discomfort by examining your wound. You pushed the wool blanket aside, then lifted your shirt to reveal a large bandage patched over your stomach. Based on the wear of the tape and the small spot of blood of the cotton, you figured it was an old enough dressing to be worth loosening open to check out the mark Hydra left behind.

Your fought back a gasp at the sight of it.

Yikes.

It was bad. Really bad. Nasty, red skin surrounded the stitched area, stuff coming out of the wound that should not be there. This was the aftermath of what you had feared would happen.

Even though things were off between you, Bucky was still, as always, able to read your thoughts perfectly.

“Infection. Bad one. Took many attempts to finally get it out of your system.”

You nodded, not surprised based on the damage it left behind. “How long was I out for? Where are we?”

He looked around the room. “London.” His thumb stroked the wire around your finger. “It took a while to get here. Almost too long. We had to stop at a few camps because all of the moving around was causing your body too much stress. Gretchen and Jane said that you owed the two of them letters and very expensive drinks when you finally woke up for all of the stress you put them under when we stopped at the 107th. They were the ones who finally got the infection under control, thank God. There were a few times-” his voice cracked, “A few times we almost lost ya. You’ve been out for two weeks.”

You let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

He had a hard time looking you in the eyes now, his gaze darting from your hands, your bandaged stomach, various parts of the room. Anywhere else but your eyes.

“I should, um, I should get the guys to let you know that you’re awake.” Bucky moved to stand up. “They’ve been going crazy with worry. And I’ll get a nurse to check on you-”

“Bucky, no.” You pulled him back to sit by your side. “Stay with me a bit. Just the two of us okay?”

You extended your hand to cup his cheek and he leaned into it. A slight crack of composure shifted in his features but he pushed it down, offering you a small smile instead.

“Alright,” he nodded, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. You sighed at the feel of it.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whispered and his lips tightened against your skin.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re here. That’s what matters.”

You nodded, then gingerly shuffled to the side, fighting back a grimace from the pain in your stomach so as to not worry Bucky even further. Once you made room, you pulled him to lay next to you. “When was the last time you slept, Buck?”

His head nestled into the crook of your shoulder. “I’ve slept. Here and there. Mostly here.”

“Try to get some rest now, okay?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, doll, I swear. I’ll lay here for a bit but I should really get some nurses to make sure you’re okay.”

“Bucky, look at me.”

He stilled, as if wishing he could refuse your request. Then again, when had he ever succeeded at saying no to you?

Slowly his gaze finally met yours.

You wanted to argue with him, to yell at him that he was the furthest thing from fine, that he could talk to you about it.

But that was never your relationship with Bucky. He spoke when he was ready, and he knew you’d do the same. It had just been a while since he forced himself not to. Since he chose not to find comfort in you.

So instead of fighting, instead of focusing on the sting of his guardedness, you leaned forward and kissed the man you loved, trying to give him any sort of comfort you could.

His whole body melted into your lips, hand reaching up to the back of your head to pull you closer. It was a gentle movement, but you could feel the desperation in it, the need to keep you close. The combination of joy and fear at the fact that he had thought there might not be any more moments like this to be shared with you.

You waited until he was ready to pull away, allowing him to savor this time as much as he needed to. You needed it, too, you realized, clinging to him with just as much desperation.

Once he did, you looked him in the eye once more and whispered, “I love you.”

He blinked back tears as the corners of his mouth turned upwards. “I cannot begin to describe how good it feels to hear those words from you.”

You scrunched your nose with a smile. “And I plan on saying it a million more times.”

He pursed his lips. “Doesn’t seem like enough if you ask me, how about ten million more?”

You giggled. “I’m honestly aiming to reach a hundred million. How’s that?”

A nod. “Now we’re talkin’.”

“Better get started then.” You leaned forward for another kiss. “I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

“And I love you, Y/n Y/l/n. Forever.”

++++++++++++++

Bucky managed to sleep for an hour or so before a nurse came in to change your bandage. While she worked, he finally walked out of the room to let the others know you were up.

The guys were overjoyed to see you awake. They surrounded your bed, giant grins and glistening eyes painted across each face.

“Good to have you back, kid,” Dum Dum said, patting your shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” Jonathan asked.

You shrugged. “A little. But nothing I can’t handle. Way better than when everything happened. I gotta say though, it ain’t fun being on this side of an injury. I definitely prefer being the one to patch it all up. This shit sucks.”

Dum dum howled with laughter. “Damn straight! Now you know why I plan on naming all of my kids after ya.”

They stayed for a bit, filling you in on everything you had missed the past two weeks. Bucky took the opportunity to walk to the back of the room with Steve. You tried to look over in between the conversations with the guys and get a feel of what they were chatting about, but they spoke too softly for you to hear. It looked serious though. Steve seemed to be frustrated at whatever Bucky was saying.

When it was over, Bucky nodded as Steve patted him on the shoulder and walked out of the room. He returned to his spot by your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Everything okay?” you whispered into his ear as everyone was talking.

He nodded, kissing your temple. “Tell ya later, sweetheart.”

+++++++++

“Absolutely not.”

The guys left a few minutes ago, allowing you to finally pressure Bucky into telling you about his conversation with Steve. You did not like what you were hearing.

They tracked down Dr. Zola, Schmitt’s number two guy. He was going to be on a train traveling through the Alps in 24 hours. The plan was to ambush the train and capture him.

The information Zola would have would be….invaluable. It was exactly the move you needed to make to be able to get the intel on how to take down the final Hydra base.

But that obviously meant that such an important person would be a very well-protected, very dangerous person to take as a hostage.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Y/n, this has been the goal all along. We gotta take down Hydra and this is how we do it. We’re so close!”

“But why now? Why can’t it wait until I’m healed up enough to go out with you guys!”

He snorted. “I’m sorry, doll, but your Commando days are over. You did your part, and now your job is to get well and never let a single scratch make its way on that beautiful body ever again, ya hear?”

You groaned. “Bucky, I’m a medic. I’ve seen soldiers recover and go back into battle within weeks of being injured. I shouldn’t be an exception just becaus-”

“But you are an exception!” He snapped back and you flinched and the volume of his voice. “Do you really think I’m going to risk you getting hurt again? What if you get shot and this time you can’t fucking patch yourself up enough to survive? You think I’d be able to survive that?”

“So what? I’m supposed to just let you go off on a dangerous mission and risk your life? Don’t act like you’re the only one who knows what it feels like to almost lose the one they love.” Your voice broke. “I know that pain. I know that fear. I can’t go through it again.”

Bucky’s face softened and he walked over to your bed and sat down, facing you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just,” he took your hand, “We’re so close. So fucking close to all of this being over. And then maybe we can go home where we’ll both be safe and we can forget about this nightmare and finally start our lives together.” His eyes met yours. “I can’t pass this up. I need to keep you safe this time. I let my guard down for a second two weeks ago and look at what happened? Someone was able to shoot you right in front of me.” He shook his head, blinking back tears.

Your heart broke at the sight of him. “Bucky, this isn’t your fault that I’m her-

“And if you’re there,” he cut you off, “I’m only going to be able to focus on you. I could put myself and the guys in danger because I’m never going to experience what happened when you almost…..I won’t do it.”

You stared at him, both sets of eyes filled with tears as you silently pleaded with one another. To stay, to go, to just let this be done with.

That last part couldn’t happen though. Not yet.

Realization of the inevitability set in and you let out a shuddering breath. Tears streamed down your face and you nodded.

“Okay.” Bucky reached forward to wipe your tears away with this thumb. “Just, please promise to come back to me, okay?”

He paused, thinking on that before he gave you a soft smile. Then, he pulled his hands away and reached for his tags, taking them off his neck.

“Here,” he said as he handed them to you, “Let this be my promise.”

You shook your head, pushing the tags away. “No way, hun. You need those. What if something happens and they need-”

“Well, I’ll make sure nothing happens, right?” He placed the tags over your head and around your neck. “I promise that I’ll be back to retrieve these, okay? I’ll come back for my tags and for my girl.”

You gazed down at them, stroking the engravings before looking back to Bucky. “I’m going to be pissed if you break this promise, you hear? I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth until I find you so I can return these damn tags to you myself.”

He feigned a serious expression and saluted you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You chuckled, though the joke did nothing to quell the pit in your stomach. “When do you leave?”

“Two hours.”

Your eyes closed to fight the fresh pool of tears. “So soon.”

He took your face in his hands once more and your eyes fluttered open, meeting a storm of blue.

“And I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”

You nodded, and he pulled you in until your lips met his. A deep, passionate, pained kiss.

He spent the next two hours laying next to you, holding you in his arms. Very little was said during that time. There was too much to say, and yet words could not do it justice. So you just clung to one another.

When Steve entered, he gave Bucky a single nod and offered you a small smile before heading back into the hallway.

Bucky turned to you, eyes soft.

“I’ll see you soon, doll.”

You leaned forward and kissed him with everything you had. Every piece of yourself, your whole heart and soul, pouring into his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

He stood, walking to the door to your room. Right as he stepped out, he turned to look at you one last time, giving you a wink and your favorite boyish grin.

You smiled back, rolling your eyes and waving him off.

The last thing you heard was the echo of Bucky’s laugh through the hallway.

+++++++++++

Three days later, they returned.

Well.

Not everyone.

You were well enough to no longer be bedridden, so when Peggy ran to your room to tell you that their cars were pulling up, you gingerly speed-walked outside to greet them.

The first thing you noticed was a group of soldiers pushing Dr. Zola past you and inside the building.

The second thing you noticed were the faces of your friends, your brothers.

Steve was the last one your eyes found, and seeing his face was when you knew.

Pain. So much pain.

Peggy gripped her arm around you, understanding also hitting her.

Time slowed. Your body went heavy, as if sinking underwater. You put all of your strength into shaking your head from side to side, still trying to deny the obvious. The irreversible.

Steve said I’m sorry but you couldn’t hear the words. You could only register the movement of his mouth. Tears were streaming down his face.

Jonathan walked over and pulled you in for a hug, but you couldn’t take your eyes off Steve.

I’m sorry.

Your neck suddenly felt heavy and you looked down to notice the tags hanging on your chest. You studied the engraved letters.

James Buchanen Barnes.

Bucky.

++++++++++++

Grief is a funny thing.

You could go through it a number of times, lose every important person in your life.

Yet it never got easier.

You realized this when Jonny died. After losing your grandparents, and both your parents, you figured that the pain of losing a loved one would hurt less. You had already experienced it, knew how much it hurt, you should grow used to the pain.

But when Jonny died, you discovered that was not the case. The sorrow would rip through every fiber of your being and tear open every emotional wound you had spent so much time stitching up, as if it were the first time you had ever felt such devastation.

Losing Bucky was worse than any loss you had ever experienced before.

His death caused a part of you to die as well.

Because you had lost a whole life.

One filled with joy and comfort and love.

Ripped away from you in an instant.

There was nothing that could hurt more than that.

The strangest part was that it still didn’t feel real. When Jonny died, you knew it was the end, you knew he was gone. Maybe that was because it happened right in front of you, and you witnessed yourself the moment your brother’s soul left his body.

This felt just like when you last saw Bucky before he was captured by Hydra, when you knew that he was still alive. A nagging part of your brain insisted that this was the case once more.

But Steve told you what happened. The height that he fell from.

You don’t survive that. You knew this.

Steve wouldn’t have accepted it if he had even a shred of hope that his best friend could still be alive.

So now you lived in a constant state of forcing yourself to accept the fact that Bucky was dead. That he was gone. There was no saving him this time.

Steve was a wreck when he told you what happened. He sobbed as he apologized for letting Bucky fall. He blamed himself for the death of the man you both loved so much.

Of course it wasn’t his fault. You told Steve over and over that it wasn’t as you hugged each other in a desperate embrace, both trying to accept the unacceptable.

Losing Bucky was never going to be something you would accept.

Instead, you would just have to live with the pain for whatever time you had left on this earth.

And with whatever time you had, you would make sure Hydra burned to the ground.

Once and for all.

++++++++++++

ONE MONTH LATER

You took a deep breath before tapping the closed door in front of you.

“Peggy?” you called out softly. “Are you almost ready?”

Heeled shoes tapped across the room until the door opened, and red-rimmed eyes met yours with a lifeless smile.

“Not ready at all, but I don’t think I ever will be. Guess we should just get on with it then, right?”

You nodded, taking her hand in yours.

It had been two weeks since the final Hydra base had been taken down. The bombs programmed to take down the entirety of the United States now in the bottom of the ocean.

Alongside your beloved friend, Steve.

You had been by Peggy’s side in the comms room at the base as Steve said his final words, hand squeezing her shoulder as she lived through the unbearable, just as you had not long ago.

Seeing her pain brought yours back with a force, but you knew you needed to be there for her. Just as she had been there for you.

Now, it was time to officially say goodbye to the men the two of you loved.

You were currently traveling from your hotel in Washington D.C. to just across the Potomac River, where the entirety of the 107th, as well as the highest decorated officers in the United States Army, plus the Commander in Chief, gathered at Arlington National Cemetery.

You stood alongside Peggy, the Commandos, Chris, Gretchen, and Jane as various officers and government officials spoke about the legacy of Captain America.

Dum Dum spoke about Bucky as well, who was to be buried right next to his best friend after you and Peggy argued with Phillipps until you were both blue in the face when any other option was discussed.

He talked about Bucky’s leadership, how good of a man he was. Kind, funny, and charming as hell (which got a good laugh from the crowd, and you managed to chuckle through your tears).

When he was done, he looked at you with a single nod. You glanced over at Peggy who squeezed your hand before you walked to meet Dum Dum taking the mic from him.

The moment Phillipps asked if you wanted to speak at the ceremony, your immediate reaction was to say no. How could you possibly talk about Bucky without choking on tears within the first ten seconds? Why put yourself through that kind of pain?

Why? Well, because it would be for Bucky.

You could do this for him.

You stared at the ground for a second, already overwhelmed by the number of eyes on you. Then, after taking a deep breath, you looked back up, eyes glued to the ones belonging to your friends. The faces of those you knew and loved. The ones who had gone above and beyond to support you during the worst month imaginable.

Jonathan gave you a small smile, nodding his head assuringly, and you found the strength to begin.

“Hello everyone,” you cleared your throat to try and stop it from shaking. “Thank you for coming today to honor the memory of Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes.” His name was almost caught on the lump growing in your throat. “Though the loss of these two individuals brings such unimaginable sorrow to us all, I’m glad that we’re able to stand together today to remember the legacy they both leave behind.

“Of course, Steve was an amazing soldier and incredible leader. Being able to work alongside him and the rest of the Commandos is some of my proudest work. He was like a brother to me. I’ll miss laughing with him, or listening to his ridiculously inspiring speeches that could turn anyone into a diehard Patriot.” The crowd laughed. “He trusted us as much as we trusted him, and without that support, and his sacrifice, we would never have been able to take down Hydra.”

You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath before continuing. Your free hand reached to your chest, holding onto the dog tags that had been around your neck this past month. “I’d like to talk about Sergeant James Barnes, known as Bucky by most. He was notorious for that, always making sure you never called him by the name James. It was almost a joke to him, he’d barely wait until you had finished saying his legal name before he’d plead with you to call him Bucky. As if he needed you to instantly feel comfortable with him, that you were a comrade instead of a stranger.

“The first day I met Bucky was his first day at the camp of the 107th. He was fresh off a plane from Brooklyn, brand new to the horrors of war and ready to enter into the fight for his country. But before that, he spent whatever free time he had putting himself to work. He hadn’t been in camp more than an hour before he was following me on recovery rounds, changing bandages, cleaning a wound on a soldier’s ass,” more laughter from the crowd, even yourself, “And getting to know the men and women he was going to be leading. Even the next day, before going to the line for the first time, he was handing out rations to everyone, that charming as hell grin on his face.” You smiled through your tears at the memory.

“Bucky is- was one of the most inspiring men I had ever met. He worked tirelessly to ensure that the soldiers he led, even ones he didn’t, were taken care of. That they felt safe and supported. Most of us know how invaluable that is during war. It was so easy to look up to him because he made sure to be by your side whenever he was needed. Even during the attack at Azzano, where we were completely ambushed and no hope was in sight, he tried his best to get as many soldiers out and away to safety, including myself.” Your voice broke at the last few words. “And when Steve rescued them, Bucky was insistent that everyone be checked on by the medics before himself. He was truly one of the best. A genuine, strong, good man, who will be missed beyond comprehension.

“I could go on for hours talking about how amazing of a man Bucky Barnes was, how my life and the lives of many, many others have been changed for the better from knowing him. But I think what we need now is to all share our stories of Steve and Bucky. That’s how a legacy lives on, not from one voice, but the voice of many. So please, feel free to share your stories of Bucky with me. I would be happy to share some myself, including the time I scared the shi- um, I mean, heck out of him by convincing him that the pine needles crawling up his neck were spiders.”

The final chorus of laughter brought another smile to your face as you handed the microphone to Phillipps, who gave you a rare smile before you walked back to your group.

They all took turns wrapping their arms around you, whispering words of comfort in your ears.

Once the ceremony was over, you all started to make your way to a nearby pub to drink all of your feelings away.

You were only 20 feet away from the burial site when a soft voice beckoned for you behind your shoulder.

“Excuse me? Y/n?”

You turned to the unfamiliar voice, and as your gaze landed on two figures, you stopped in your tracks, every ounce of air knocked out of your body with a force.

Two women, one middle-aged and the other in her early 20s. Both with eyes a shade of blue you’d never thought you’d see again.

“Mrs. Barnes?”

She smiled, blue eyes brimming with tears and she stepped closer. “Please. Call me Winnifred.” She looked to the younger woman by her side. “This is Rebecca.”

You nodded, overcome with emotion that caused any words you wanted to say to die on your tongue. All you could do was give into the urge to close the gap between the three of you and pull Bucky’s mom into a tight embrace.

She let out a sob the moment your arms wrapped around you, and she hugged you back. Her arms rubbed circles around your shoulder blades.

You pulled back after a few seconds. “Sorry,” you said breathlessly. “You probably don’t even know who I am and I just decided to say to hell with your personal space.”

Her hand cupped your cheek as she looked at you fondly. “Of course I know who you are. You’re the woman who stole my son’s heart.”

Your own heart suddenly felt like it might give out at any moment. “Bucky told you about me?”

“We didn’t get too many letters from him,” Rebecca chimed in, her voice soft, “But the last three we got over the past year spoke of little else besides you. It feels like I know you already.” She blushed, a small smile creeping across her face. “You’re like the sister I never had.”

Oh God. The tears.

You pull Rebecca in for a hug before she could catch the composure of your face breaking, swaying her from side to side.

“And you’re mine, Becs.” You pulled away to catch Rebecca beaming at you and you smiled back. “Bucky told me so many things about the two of you. I feel so lucky that he got to share so many stories with me about his life growing up. He loved you both so, so much.”

Winnifred took your hand. “He loved you too, honey. That much was clear in every word he wrote. And hearing you talk about him just now, that lovely speech you gave, I know that every wonderful thing he said about you was true. I’m so glad we finally got to meet you. I just wish,” she choked back a sob, “I wish my boy could be here so I could see that glowing smile he would have had when he introduced his lovely girl to us.”

Your jaw tightened and you nodded, feeling the same exact way.

“Listen,” you started, clearing your throat, “A bunch of us are going to a pub nearby. We wanted to spend more time together and share more stories about Bucky and Steve. Please come. We’d love to tell you more about your son, and we’d love to hear more from the two of you.”

She grinned. “That sounds nice.” She looked to Rebecca who nodded back. “We’d love to.”

Taking the hands of the mother and sister of the man you loved, you led them to your next destination.

It had been a while since you laughed so hard.

Only your Commando brothers could do that for you.

Currently, Jacques and Gabe were arguing in French about the details of a story involving Bucky and a prank he pulled on Steve. You weren’t sure where they currently stood, but it involved mud and someone’s undergarments.

Winnifred and Rebecca had tears in their eyes from laughing along, not having a damn clue what was going on.

“Let’s not forget the time Bucky put rocks in Falsworth’s pack before challenging him to a race up one of the mountains in France,” Dum Dum cackled out.

Falsworth chuckled. “That bastard knew it was the only way he could beat me.”

“Didn’t you two have a rematch where you had Bucky put rocks in his bag and yours was empty and he still won?” Jonathan quipped back with a sly grin.

Falsworth scowled. “I was still tired from the first round.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up. “Alright, who needs another drink?”

Cheers erupted from the table and you giggled, heading towards the bar.

Peggy was sitting there by herself, nursing a whiskey. You sat next to her.

“How are you?”

She sighed, giving you a side smile.

“Drinking my problems away. Seems to be the usual these days.”

You lean your head on her shoulder.

“I wish I could say it gets easier. That it sucks less. But I unfortunately can’t give you that answer yet, if at all.”

You felt her shake her head, voice breaking as she spoke. “I shouldn’t even be complaining. What Steve and I had was….nothing compared to you and Bucky. You two had your whole lives planned out and I was too stubborn to tell him how I felt.”

You looked back up and met her tear-filled eyes, feeling the wetness in your own. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less. We were both robbed of our own dreams. And it fucking sucks.”

She laughed. “That it does. It really. Fucking. Sucks.”

The bartender handed you your next round of beers and you lifted your glass to hers.

“To life fucking sucking, and to losing the loves of our lives.”

She grabbed her whiskey and tapped it against yours.

“To Bucky and Steve.”

After knocking back your drinks, Peggy looked to you once more. “So, what’s next for you? The war is over, but it sounds like the Howling Commandos aren’t quite yet finished.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Dum Dum told me that they still need to take down the secret Hydra ops that are lingering across the world. I’m….I think my time as a Commando is over. I need to try to move on. I love the guys but,” you stole a glance over at them before looking back to Peggy, “There are too many memories. It hurts too much.”

“That’s fair. And besides, it’s not like you’re no longer a Howling Commando. You’ll hold that title for life if I have anything to say about it.”

You smiled. “Dum Dum said the same thing.”

Peggy paused, giving you a look that made you slightly nervous before she reached for her purse. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you for a while now. I just didn’t know when the right time might be.” She pulled out an envelope. “Seeing that we might be parting ways soon, I guess this is as good a time as any.” She handed it to you and you gasped.

Your name was written on the envelope.

In Bucky’s handwriting.

Your fingers traced over the ink in awe, unable to process this gift.

“We found it with Steve’s belongings. I guess he had been holding onto it for you.”

“Do you know what it says?”

She shook her head. “No idea. Steve never mentioned it. The envelope it still sealed. It’s for your eyes only, Y/n.”

You held the envelope to your chest, then looked to Peggy before pulling her in for a hug.

“Thank you.”

“I hope it brings you some sense of peace.”

“Me, too.”

+++++++++++

You waited to read the letter until you got back to your room that evening.

There was a big debate going on in your mind whether you actually wanted to read it now or wait. It contained the last words to you from Bucky, and you weren’t sure you were entirely ready for that chapter to be closed.

But you also knew that you would never be ready.

And you missed him more than words could ever describe.

You would never have closure from losing him. At least he could still do the thing he did best. Provide you comfort even when it seemed unattainable. Even when he was no longer here.

You pulled the envelope out of your pocket, stroking your fingers over your name in the handwriting of your beloved once more. You pulled it to your face, inhaling the paper as if hoping it might smell like him.

It might have been your mind willing it into existence, but you could hear a familiar laugh echoing in your head at the ridiculous gesture.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the laugh, and instead placed a kiss to the envelope before finally opening it.

Hello Sweetheart,

Part of me hopes that you’ll never have to read this letter. Stevie is the only other one who will know about it and it’s only supposed to go to you if something happens. If I don’t make it.

Goddamn, I really hope I make it. That’s such a scary feeling, to want to live so desperately. When I first came out here, I was so ready to die for my country. It was a sacrifice I was so willing to make. It’s hard to imagine life after a war like this. But then you entered my world, and I started dreaming about what could be. I pictured myself as your husband, the father to our children, growing old with you and harassing our kids and our kids’ kids. Fuck, I even starting naming some of them late at night while I held you in my arms. I was so happy, so excited to start that life with you. I am so happy and excited to start that life with you. But this letter means that unfortunately that life won’t happen, doll. And it breaks my heart to think about leaving you.

But at the end of the day, this is a war we’re in now, and the chances of me dyin’ are very real and could happen at any moment. There have been many times where we have narrowly escaped it. Hell, I genuinely thought I wasn’t gonna make it out of that Hydra prison. And that’s why I gotta write all this down and just tell you how much you fucking mean to me, baby.

I swear I don’t know what I did to get so lucky to even know you. The moment I first laid eyes on you I felt lighter, like you were a star shining in the cold dark night that had been surrounding us all (or whatever the hell Jacques said. A beacon or some romantic shit). I’ve never met someone as strong, capable, kind, smart, loving, and beautiful as you. I know you don’t always feel that way, and I’m so sorry I won’t be around to remind you every second of every day. Because you are. You are amazing, Y/n. If there’s one thing I could ever ask of you, it’s to hold onto that truth. Anyone who gets the chance to know you is the luckiest fucking person in the world. And if any assholes treat you differently, I’ll haunt their ass until they’re cryin’ home to their mommies.

If this war does end someday, and you make it back home, I want you to find my mom and my sister. I don’t know if any letters have reached them, but I’ve told them all about you. All about us. About the life I dreamt we would have when we got home. I’m sure they would love to meet you. You’re part of their family now. My family. Forever.

Stevie will of course take care of you, too (not that you’ll ever need it probably but hey I always gotta look out for my best girl).

Thank you for loving me. You made me the man I am today and I will always be grateful for that. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I thank God everyday that you let me be your man. It is the highest honor I could ever receive.

I love you so, so, so much, Y/n. God I love you. In fact, I’m gonna end this letter here and give you a kiss that makes you all weak in the knees and have this adorable dumbstruck look on your face. It’s my favorite thing to do.

Yours, forever and always. In this life and the next.

Buck

+++++++++

Epilogue </3

Hiiiiiiiiiiiii how are we doing? Good? No? Please message me if you need to talk. This was a heavy one. We're reaching the end of the story next week. Love y'all and so thankful that you've followed me on this journey.

And fun fact (if anything can be called "fun" in this chapter): the letter was the FIRST thing I wrote. And since writing it (on fucking August 12 WOWZA) I've barely made any changes to it. I'm so happy (and very sad) it made it all the way to this point.

Tags:@blackwidownat2814 @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused @theokatz @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @carrotfantasimp @otbshan @toothhurtyam @itsdawnashlie @lostinspace33 @w0nderw0man91 @galaxy-dust @justsomeficsilike @magicalsimp @bunnymother93 @sometimesicanwright @multidreamerlovers @ceo-of-daichi @eclipses-and-moondust @thecrandle

[bubble-tea-bunny]

sweet talk

[tamaki suoh x reader]

author’s note: been rewatching ouran and found the time to write smth small. basically a really late valentine’s fic lol. i’m drafting an idea for takashi as well atm. maybe kyoya after? ;)

word count: 1,844

At this time of year, the weather is chilly, the air cold even without the presence of wind and warranting the need for a scarf to avoid a red-tipped nose and numb cheeks. Most days are gloomy, the overcast sky glaringly bright and difficult to look at. But today, it would seem the divine hand in charge of the course of the seasons has granted a reprieve, the clouds parting so the sun might wash over the grass that you and Tamaki sit upon currently, in the garden of the Suoh estate.  

The gardeners had finished their tasks this morning, as instructed by Tamaki the night before. It gave you two the opportunity to be out there alone in the afternoon. The hedges are trimmed and tidy, and the smell of freshly cut grass is strong. You inhale deeply, chest puffed, and sigh in satisfaction as the scent reaches your nose. It had been so long since you sat out in a garden, owed to the fact it had been too cold for that lately.

Tamaki chuckles at your enthusiasm and rifles through the picnic basket he’d brought with him. He pushes aside the array of deserts—cake slices, chocolate bars, fruit tarts, and more—their colorful wrappings crinkling loud enough to grab your attention.

“Where is it…” he mutters.

You tilt your head. "Where is what?”

The tip of Tamaki’s tongue sticks out the corner of his mouth, evidence of his concentration, and when he finally finds what he’s searching for, he holds it up like a first place prize, complemented by an exclamation: “Aha!”

It’s a small plastic pouch, clear with red stripes and tied near the top with a matching, shiny red poly ribbon to keep it closed. There’s what you assume to be candy inside, in various colors, but you don’t recognize it. You’re still just as clueless, but you don’t need to voice your question because Tamaki can see the confusion written across your face.

“It’s commoner candy!” he explains. “Well, commoner Valentine’s candy, more specifically.”

You continue to watch, intrigued by what he’s brought, as he pulls at the ribbon to loosen it and opens the pouch, reaching inside for one of the pieces of candy. He holds up the heart-shaped treat, gripped carefully between index finger and thumb, and angles it so you can see what’s written on it: Sweetheart.

Upon realizing there’s wording on it, and that the same must go for every heart in the bag, your eyes light up. “Cute!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Tamaki agrees, voice quiet as he observes the candy. The nickname is printed red though the lettering isn’t too sharp, which gives away that it was done by a machine. “Haruhi got one for all the host club members, and I wanted to share mine with you.”

When he turns to you, amethyst eyes warm like a summer night, you smile. And when he offers the bag of heart candies to you, you eagerly reach in for one. “How thoughtful!” You turn over the piece you picked out: Only You.

“Well, shall we try them together?” Tamaki inquires, and you nod. The two of you pop the candy into your mouths in unison, then sit silently for a moment in contemplation.

It’s… unique, is the best description you can come up with. The powdery, pressed substance is basically a sugar bomb that melts once it comes in contact with your tongue. But it isn’t the quality of sugar you’re accustomed to—it’s far and away from the refined sweetness of the handmade confections stashed away in the picnic basket Tamaki brought along. Still, this mass-produced goody is delightful in its own way, in taste and novelty, for you have never seen such small candies with words on them, and you say as much to your boyfriend, the last traces of the heart candy lingering on your lips which you lick away.

“They’re charming,” you remark, reaching for another piece. “For when you can’t find the words or get them out yourself.” You read what’s written on the yellow heart you grabbed, then turn it to show Tamaki: Be Mine.

Tamaki’s attention briefly diverts down to read it as well, and the corner of his lips lifts in a lopsided grin as he meets your eyes again. “Sure, they can be useful for some people, but I can get by just fine without candy telling me what to say. How could I call myself the king of the host club if I weren’t able to string together pretty words?” Always conducting himself with some semblance of dramatic flare, he puts a hand to his chest, and the sunlight reflects off his eyes in a way that makes it seem like there’s a tear or two forming in the corners.

As usual, his acting is impeccable, and you can’t contain your smile; he’s such a natural. You have no objections to his claim as king of the school’s host club, and if you’re being honest, you wish you had even half the charisma he does, that some of the skill he possesses at waxing lyrical would rub off onto you via proximity alone.

“They would’ve come in handy for me that day I confessed to you,” you admit shyly, and it’s Tamaki’s turn to tilt his head, confused but waiting for you to expound. “These candies say all the things I wanted to say to you then.”

The day you came to terms with your feelings about Tamaki and the day you actually revealed them to him were different, and the time in between had been spent in a state of conflict over whether it was worth mustering up the courage to approach him about it. There was little doubt in your mind that the president of the host club received declarations of love left and right, a routine part of his week, a clockwork consistency like that of waking in the morning and laying down to sleep in the evening. You’re a drop of water in the ocean; what could possibly make you stand out?

For all that, you figured you should confess anyway. Rejection was still an answer and it was better than nothing. At least after the gentle let down (because truly, Tamaki is, without fail, graceful in matters of love, both the reciprocal and the unrequited) your turmoil over what he may say would finally be put at ease.

Though you rehearsed over and over what you would say and how you would say it, the practice ends up being useless, and you weren’t sure why you even bothered. Once you met his kind gaze—expectant and patient, giving you the opportunity to gather the words in the stretching silence that would be oddly too long in any other context—the resolve you had slowly been building on your walk to the meeting point by the fountain crumbled. You tripped over your words at the sight of his tender smile. Tamaki just had that effect on people, and you wished he’d look at you that way always. To be on the receiving end of his affection was to bask in the warmth of a sun that never sets.

It’s a feeling you’re distinctly reminded of now, sitting in the garden on an uncharacteristically sunny day for winter and the center of Tamaki’s attention, and you think you might be set alight from the sheer intensity (due mostly to Tamaki; the sun is poor competition in contrast). He wears that beautifully soft expression, mind clearly having thought back to your confession as yours just had. But it seems his recollection differs slightly, for he presents a counterpoint.

“I thought you handled it perfectly.” He sets the bag of heart candies on the grass and braces himself with his now freed hand, which allows him to lean closer to you. He enters your bubble but you never mind it, and his touch is feather-light as he brushes your hair behind your ear.

You’re unpersuaded, however, and raise a brow. “Really?”

Tamaki chuckles and nods, blonde hair bouncing with the singular motion. “Your eyes spoke for the words you had trouble finding. I might be the one stringing together pretty poetry like diamonds around your neck”—his fingers slide lower to trace the curve of your collarbone left exposed by the cut of your blouse, and you shiver—“but you have no need for words at all, much less the turns of phrases on pieces of candy.”

“Is that why you liked me too?” you ask, remembering his own confession that had followed closely on the heel of yours. You keep your voice hushed because given how close to each other you are, there’s no need for any higher of a volume.

Tamaki hums in confirmation. His index finger delicately taps once, twice, thrice, on the hollow at the base of your throat, a sort of absentminded movement while absorbed in his thoughts, before he once more brings his hand up, cradling your cheek. “You say you’re a drop in the ocean but you’re the drops of morning dew on the roses just outside my bedroom window. My heart flutters to breathe you in.”  

You smile, bashful, and set your hand over his, interlacing your fingers. Your cheeks have darkened in a blush Tamaki would like to kiss. “Okay, I’m convinced,” you concede with a murmur. He’s so close to you now. “When I admitted how I felt, maybe it didn’t go as badly as I thought.”

This elicits another laugh from Tamaki. Instead of acting on his desire to run his lips along your silken skin (there would be time for that later), he settles for a quick peck on your nose, then reaches into the pouch of heart candies, temporarily abandoned but not forgotten. His fingers curl around two pieces and he pulls them both out rather than dropping one, but he sees the words on them before you do since his hand obscures them from your view.

“The powers governing destiny have destined our souls for each other,” he declares. “Because you and me, it’s love.”

He uncurls his fingers to reveal the candy in his palm, and you look down at them. The green one reads You & Me, and the blue one It’s Love. This prompts you to giggle. It’s music to his ears.

“What happened to not needing candy to tell you what to say?” Your tone is playful.

Tamaki shrugs, unable to hide his amused grin. “I pulled them out at random. If this is the universe speaking to me, who would I be to argue?”

You have no counter to this, not that you think there even is one. Destiny is destiny and as Tamaki feeds you one of the hearts and you bite into it, the sugar once more dissolving on your tongue, you can only thank those powers which make the world turn for conferring their blessing upon the two of you in such a deliciously sweet way.

[blahkugo]

Manual

Terushima Yūji x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

Word Count: 4.5k

TW: dub/noncon (noncon filming & voyeurism), manipulation, drugs (weed and alcohol), implied virginity, degradation, exhibitionism, daddy kink

A night of danger and debauchery with the city’s infamous drug dealer. 

It was a simple enough text that started it, but you’re not even sure how he got a hold of your number. A few days ago, a plain ‘hey’ had flashed across your screen and before you knew it, you were agreeing to go for a ride in his speedy car. ‘How fast is it?’ you had asked as an attempt to stall the conversation. But it was his reply that settled it for you: ‘As fast as you want it.’ 

It’s stupid how easily swayed you were, but the words left a knot in your stomach that you had never encountered before. Like a ship setting its anchor on the seafloor, though not one of anxiety nor tension caused by any of the usual stressors of your life—something entirely alien. The real issue wasn’t its unfamiliarity, but how much you took pleasure in it. And as ships do, the feeling set sail as quickly as it appeared, and you were left wistful and aching for its return. 

Never had you been like your classmates at the private school, who used familial wealth to excuse week-long benders and avoid lengthy jail sentences, because never had you felt that depravity necessary. But as you make your way down the block, you envision daddy waking up to find his little girl simply vanished, and you can’t help the wicked smile that spreads across your face.

When you arrive at the grimy, red sports car— music blasting through the open windows despite the dead quiet of the block— that ball of thrill settles in your gut yet again. As long as you’re in the company of Terushima Yūji, you’re well aware that the feeling isn’t going to go away.   

The car is low. So low, in fact, that you have to balance a hand on the roof and slide in legs first. How does he even drive around in this metal death trap without scraping the asphalt? Your leather skirt bunches and slips further up your thighs no matter how hard you tug it lower. 

“Alright?” It’s the only form of greeting he calls out to you over the ear-splitting music. Terushima eyes your lustrous, bare legs resting in the passenger seat of his beat-up Camaro, but doesn’t bother turning down the tune. He’s not very polite, but you didn’t exactly accept his offer to be drowned in refinement, did you? 

“I’m okay,” you shout, struggling to be heard over the booming voice rapping about ‘drugs and bitches.’ Typical. “How are you?” You’re not sure if it’ll break the ice, not even sure he wants to speak at all, but anything’s better than fidgeting awkwardly in your chair with nothing but the god awful music to drown out your anxiety.

He mumbles back a simple reply, fixing his gaze on your breasts straining against the tight, low cut tank. You fished the two-piece outfit out of the depths of your wardrobe, a revealing number borrowed from a friend that you never even bothered trying on before tonight. His stare has you itching to cross your arms over your chest, but you hold out. You can’t have him thinking you’re a prude, even if it is the truth. 

His hand grips the stick shift lazily and before you know it, the engine is rumbling and you’re peeling away from the curb. Terushima’s driving is every bit as reckless as you assumed, stop signs appearing to be soft suggestions rather than mandatory decrees. The residential roads are practically deserted, but the lack of caution has your heart racing wildly all the same, fingers clutching at your seat. As the adrenaline rushes through your veins, your stomach sinks further into the frayed leather seat. 

When the music is shut off abruptly, you believe he must finally want to speak to you, perhaps even exchange pleasantries— but the next words out of his mouth are a sly, 

“Do me a favor, yeah?” You nod, before realizing his eyes are still fixed on the road ahead. It’s not like it matters anyways, because he continues on as if you had answered him. “Grab the bottle under your seat for me, princess.” Princess. It’s uttered so nonchalantly, but there’s a certain edge to his tone— the tiniest hint of a teasing lilt. You don’t like it, but logical as your brain may be, your stomach still swirls with butterflies. 

Swiping at the floor, you search until your fingers make contact with glass. Low and behold, you pull out a bottle of– 

“Smirnoff,” your eyes scan the label intently, attempting to place the emblem among the liquors you’ve seen at the country club. While you weren’t exactly expecting a water bottle— that’d be much too off brand for Terushima— you aren’t too keen on the idea of reckless and intoxicated driving. He glances towards you once, but doesn’t make a move towards the drink at all. 

Only a few seconds later, he shoots you another look, single brow raised in quiet anticipation. The long-forgotten burdens of high school peer pressure washes over you again, fingers quivering as you unscrew the cap. 

You’ve never had vodka straight out of the bottle, never had vodka in general except for when it’s mixed into your cocktails. But his expectation weighs heavy in the confined space. So, fuck it. What did you come out with him for if not to live a little? 

Nail polish remover, children’s cough syrup, and liquid fire. That’s all you taste as the lukewarm fluid glides down your throat. The burn is unbearable, but a pool of warmth oozes through your chest and your hand relaxes a bit on the edge of your seat. You don’t even realize that you’re coughing.

“First time drinking?” He offers you a lazy smirk, tone edged in ridicule. 

“What?” Holding your breath, you silently beg the itch in your throat to disappear. “No, I- I have wine with dinner.” 

The laugh that rumbles through his throat is deep and hoarse, much too loud to be laughing at your comment— and thus, is only perceivable as taunting. Even so, you can’t deny the seduction threaded into his smoky vocals, or the wire deep within your core, pulled taut and ready to snap at any moment. 

“Wine,” he snickers again. “You’re funny, you know that?” He swipes the booze out of your hands and chugs. If there’s ever a proper time to start worrying, it’d be now. But at least he stops for lights? 

Besides, you can’t say you’re not enjoying the view. Terushima’s defined jaw ruts outward with every swill, his lips puckered towards the bottle as if his life depends on it. As cautious as you should be, he’s too pretty to keep your eyes focused anywhere else; your mouth surely knows it, practically salivating at his Adam's apple, bobbing as he gulps. If you reach your hand out just a few inches, you can run your fingertips against it and–

“Gross,” he pushes the bottle back towards you. 

“Black cherry,” you counter, as if it’s an explanation for the disgusting taste. 

“Is that the flavor I nicked? Damn, wasn’t paying enough attention,” he shrugs. 

“Nicked?” Mouth agape, you stare intently at the side of his face and hope for a valid answer. 

“Bottle looked lonely, so I swiped it,” he brushes a finger at the alcohol trickling down his lip; one of your own digits twitches in envy. “Is that too criminal for you, princess?” 

So he is mocking you. The vodka must be melting your brain, because all your body comes up with in response is a wind chime of a soft laugh— an entirely foreign noise to your ears. It must be a mistake, or the music playing tricks on your hearing, because you don’t giggle. 

Still, according to Terushima’s awful pet name, you have something to prove. Not sure how else to shut him up, you opt for the easiest way out. 

“I’m not drunk enough for this.” The bottle meets your lips and liquid fire waltzes through you again. Seconds pass as you chug, the haziness of your last sip urging you to down just a teensy bit more. Just enough to get you tipsy, just enough to prove him wrong, just enough to drown out the voice in your head claiming this is a terrible idea. 

This time, you don’t cough. 

“‘Atta girl.” 

Then, you’re drinking, and he’s drinking, and the two of you are having the grandest of times. Never mind the fact that he’s consumed far less alcohol than you have, or that lines are blurring and you’re no longer able to see straight. Gone is the anxiety you were plagued with upon meeting him and the worries that shadow you day and night in your regular life. And that’s all that really matters. 

He blasts the music once again. Maybe it isn’t as terrible as you originally thought. A deep, pumping bass resonates through every bone in your body and Terushima seems to be pressing the pedals harder with every beat. 

Up you go, higher, higher— higher?

Your eyes have been scouring the mischievous man next to you so intently that you never bothered to ask where you were going. But can you blame yourself? Even now, as you round up the side of a cliff, every thought passing through your murky brain pertains to him. 

His lazy half smile that won’t drop, as if he’s keyed in on a secret that’s all his own, lidded eyes that make him look entirely apathetic and alluring all at once. Hell, even his fingers are beautiful. Slender and graceful, one hand is placed leisurely at the wheel and the other is shifting the gear stick with meticulous precision. Terushima Yūji has always struck you as raw and vulgar, but now you see there’s a sense of finesse to him as well— and of course, you’d need to be halfway into a drunken stupor to truly notice it. 

You’re shaken from your thoughts once he cracks the windows, hair whipping around violently. If you only knew the lyrics to any of these songs, you’d be singing along. Instead, you settle for kicking your legs out the window and tapping your fingers to the beat. Who cares that your fingers are moving too slowly to match the rhythm? 

Terushima says nothing at your erratic behavior, only smirks when your head leans against his shoulder and you stare idly up at him. Relief. It’s the only identifiable emotion you’re able to place in the midst of this haze. Yes, the world is foggy and black spots take over half your vision. But you hold onto that feeling— the breeze, the weightlessness. All the while, the anchor in your gut makes its home further into the sand. 

“We’re here,” he chuckles, pointing at your windswept hair when you turn to him. It’s the first time his laugh sounds genuine, bubbling up naturally instead of forced and vicious. And he’s finally looking at you; not in stolen glances, with eyes glazed over in mockery or lust, but truly looking at you. You break out of the murkiness clouding your brain to catch what ‘here’ is, only to gasp at the sight in front of you. 

He’s brought you to the very top of a cliff, overlooking the city. Cars and buildings seem nothing more than blips on a map, insects to your God-like view. 

As beautiful as they are, the dazzling lights of the world below you pale in comparison to the deity seated inches away. It’s difficult to believe that you had never once taken notice of him, though your younger self filed him away as a troublemaker—an invaluable waste of space— based on gossiped knowledge and without a second glance. 

“Y’know what I never noticed?” You’re well aware the words tumble out a whine, drawn out and a bit slurred, but proper diction is the last thing on your mind. “You’re really pretty.” As soon as you’ve said it, your face is set ablaze. Control yourself. 

“Pretty? Haven’t heard that one before,” he throws his head back and you’re struck with that gruff, raspy laugh once again.

“But you are,” you’re unable to contain yourself at all now, all proper thoughts replaced by the cut of his cheekbones, the messy bleached hair tumbling over his sleek undercut— and best yet, the tiny piece of metal prodding through his tongue and now balanced between his teeth. “A pretty bad boy, with pretty teeth, and a pretty piercing, and you texted me why?” With the hurried words, another wave of heat spikes your body. 

Perhaps his eyes brighten at your little confession, or perhaps his face gives away nothing. You can’t really tell much of anything.

“You really wanna know?” You nod hungrily at his whisper, his hushed tone teeming with temptation. Terushima creeps closer, so much so that you feel his breath fanning your face. Underneath the overwhelming scents of cigarettes and booze, he smells a bit like tea leaves. Strange, but pleasant. “Are you sure?” He’s smirking now, obviously finding your curiosity entertaining. 

At the same time, one of his hands inches towards you— cautiously, deliberately, like a predator creeping towards its skittish prey. You tremble in your seat, unsure why the proximity has your heart beating out of its chest. 

All at once, his hand shoots past you and towards the glove compartment. Terushima lets out a snicker, flashes you a brilliant set of teeth, and proudly offers you nothing: “Sorry, not tellin’ you.” 

Your slurred gripes do nothing to sway the tease, who’s now engrossed by the itty bitty ziploc baggie he pulled from the glovebox. Though your head is spinning, you yourself can’t help but feel enthralled by his movements— staring shamelessly as he sprinkles the weed onto paper. His fingers prove precise yet again as he rolls the greens into pretty little cylinders. 

Almond eyes meet yours only when he brings the wrap to his lips, gazing directly at you while his tongue slides across the paper. A chill prickles across your skin, but there’s only heat within the parked car. 

Before you know it, he’s extending a large hand towards you, silently willing you to take the first hit. Somewhere far away, you hear your own voice mumbling, ‘I don’t know how to.’ As hard as you try to put up a front, to exude sex and confidence in front of this well-versed man, you’re not quite sure you can pretend your way through this one. 

A wispy laugh, a sly comment and a wink later, two of his fingers have the joint pressed between your lips. ‘I’ll teach you,’ he promises, instructing you on precisely how to breathe. You barely register the palm fastened at your chest. Is he being a creep? Maybe he’s just trying to help. Either way, you don’t pay it much mind. 

And then, smoke fills your lungs, fills your head, fills the already-depleting air of his tiny car. You’re coughing again, but he warned you of the burn this time, and ‘besides, it’ll get you higher.’ 

You were hoping to see chalky hues of pinks and blues, but the drug does nothing but provide you with lidded eyes and a tingle that runs from head to toe. A single stroke of your finger against the leathered seat sends waves of shivers throughout your arm. Your palm splayed against your own thigh feels unfamiliar and ticklish. 

The buzz is only truly worth it when you finally turn to look at the wicked man next to you; Terushima has a slick smile dancing across his face, eyes heavy and probing you for any sort of reaction. The bleached blonde hair at the top of his head pales under the moonlight, suddenly seeming impossible to resist. When you reach out to grasp a strand, he moves quicker, gripping your fingers tightly between his. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His low drawl is lazy, more amused than genuinely angry. But your fingers twitch beneath his grasp all the same, completely embarrassed and still itching to touch his locks. “Princess doesn't know how to ask for things politely?” You don’t have to look into his eyes to feel the smugness radiating off of him. 

“No, I-” There’s no saving face now, and he knows it as well as you do. 

“Or are you just so used to getting what you want?” Even as he taunts you, his digits thread through yours, pulling you towards him so that your hands hover over his lips. “Is this what you wanted?” 

You shake your head, but the thought of grazing his pillowy lips— of your trembling fingers exploring that tiny metal ball in his mouth— is now etched into your clouded brain. 

“No? What about here?” He trails your digits down his crisp t-shirt, stopping only when you’ve reached his midriff. You should stop, should adhere to the yellow tape bound around this entire encounter; instead, you stare at the blonde with wide eyes, tongue poking out of your mouth as you debate your answer. He breathes an airy laugh, “use your words.” 

But before you can, his lips are meshing into yours. And here are the hues of the pinks and blues you so desperately wished to see, hidden in his caress all this time. There’s heat, and heat, and more heat— and a quiet hum traveling from the very tip of your mouth to your toes, as you melt together. 

When he releases your hands, they fly towards his hair, finally tugging at the soft pieces. A simple clasp of your waist and you’re moaning into his mouth, a warm welcome for his tongue to slide in. Embers spread through the tiny space, setting your lungs ablaze far quicker than any drug could. His cool, metal piercing tickles the roof of your mouth; if you were coherent enough, you may wonder what it would feel like skimming other stretches of skin. 

But your thoughts are cotton candy melting at his touch and allowing one, singular thought: him, him, him. 

Your sugar-spun mind loses track of the time he spends pressed into you. Seconds, minutes, hours later, he finally pulls away, the long string of saliva between you the only remnant of your lip-locked endeavors. 

“It’s getting late,” his words are a whisper, a break in the heavy silence of heaving chests and spinning minds. You���d have thought the infamous heartbreaker would urge for more, and a part of you wishes that he would. But instead, he drives you back down the cliffside in silence, his hand on your thigh rooted in place, keeping you longing for another taste. 

Only when you’re coming down from the high, still a bit tipsy, do you realize you’re almost home. Terushima’s fingers still play at the hem of your skirt, stroking at the fire deep in your gut. With all his teasing, you figure you may as well make your move now. 

“You can pull over here,” you instruct, happy to have found your usual domineering voice. Perhaps it was buried under the weight of weed and wandering lips. 

“Your house is another block away,” he refutes with a grumble, but heeds your demand anyways. When he turns to you, you’re caught in that bewitching gaze, finding yourself at a loss for words yet again. “Anything else you need?” The words are laced with possibility, a dangerous challenge. But any gall you felt coursing through your veins has vanished without a trace. 

“No- I- I should get home,” your eyes drop, staring at a loose thread on his pants— and all at once, moving to leave the car. “Daddy’ll be mad if he catches me out.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s chuckling, repeating them.

“Daddy will be mad? You still call your father daddy?” And there’s the Yūji Terushima you thought you knew, mockery and taunts always at the tip of his tongue. You throw a weak punch against his chest, huffing in confusion. 

“What’s so wrong with that?” 

“Nothing,” He exclaims a bit too smugly, climbing out himself.

Next thing you know, you’re caught between his body and the hood of the car, sturdy arms trapping you in place. Chilled air nips at your bones; a single skim of his knee against your thigh and that cold is forgotten. You really should be at home. 

“Terushima.” It’s funny how a single word— a person’s name— can contain a thousand different meanings. You’re not even sure how you say it, questioning the inflections of your cracked voice and wide eyes. He whispers your name right back, the gleam in his eyes magnifying tenfold. 

You’re well aware he has you right where he wants you, a little bird caught in a cage, though you’re more than happy to be singing any song he asks. 

But there’s only silence as you stare at each other beneath the flickering street light. So much so, you can hear your hearts pump blood, can hear the engine of a car rumbling by, can even hear your neighbor’s pesky dog barking a block away. 

“Do you need something, or do you just like saying my na–”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. 

It feels different now. Perhaps your nerves aren’t frenzied, and you don’t attain euphoria with every graze. But you feel him. You can taste the smoke on his tongue as it knocks against your teeth. Black cherry floods your brain, the same flavor that drifted you up that cliffside to begin with. 

Terushima’s hands grab at your waist before you’re hoisted up and placed on the hood of the car. Gone are the lazy kisses of two heads in the clouds. His movements are quick and decisive, aggressive even. A hand roams your body, trailing under your tank and across your breasts. The other shoves aside your panties, nimble fingers circling your bud. 

A low whimper leaves you when he runs a digit across your slit. 

“Careful,” hot breath fans your lips as he chuckles, “too loud and he’ll hear us.” 

But you can’t stop your wanton mewls. Not when he dips into you, curling his fingertips to hit a spot that has you seeing stars. Not when his teeth nip at your jaw, your neck, the shell of your ear— leaving soft marks behind. And most certainly not when you can feel his cock straining against your thigh. 

“Fuck, Teru I–”  Within minutes, your entire body trembles, hands clutching at soft hair as you chase your high. 

“Tell daddy what you want,” his eyes pierce into yours, completely unashamed of his perversion of the pure term. You try to shake your head no, to refuse his order— but he simply flicks his wrist quicker, pumps into you faster. You’re so fucking close, too near the edge to care, so you simply allow the words to tumble out, 

“Daddy p-please, I want to cum.” 

A few circles on your clit, and you’re putty in his hands. The high hits you with a loud, leg-shaking cry— far more dizzying than any of the debaucheries of hours past. 

You’re flipped over without a moment to breathe, breasts rammed into the frigid car hood. Terushima pulls your skirt up with one hand, the other nudging your cheek firmly against the metal. 

Never would you have thought you’d be one for such public indecency, but the elation of your last orgasm still hasn't even completely resided. For the third time tonight, you find yourself drunk off the ambrosia of this wayward god.  

“Beg for it,” he slides his cock up your slit, coating his thick member in your slick. 

“Please Teru,” you whine helplessly. A loud slap echoes through the empty street as his hand meets the globe of your ass, the pain more shocking than painful. 

It reminds you that anyone could walk out of their homes to see you being railed against a beat up car— and the thought of one of your neighbors waking up to that sight wracks your body with a twisted pleasure. 

“What was that?” The bastard actually laughs, gruff and hearty, as you writhe against him. 

“Daddy, I need you.” And then he’s thrusting into you, pushing into the tight ring of muscle. Though he prepped you, you claw at the car, searching for any sort of relief from the overwhelming pain. 

A few snaps of his hips later, you relax as the stretch becomes bearable. He takes his time rutting into you, spreading your legs further, making sure you feel every inch of him deep inside you. 

Only when you begin bouncing back to meet his drives does he quicken his pace, a single hand gripping your waist— five finger-shaped bruises you’re sure will be evidence for days to come. You barely recognize your own voice; high-pitched wails spill from your lips, curses and pleas and cries of ‘daddy’ like a broken record on replay. 

“Look at the little slut, creaming all over me,” a particularly hard thrust sends you reeling, tears flowing freely down your face as you blabber mindlessly. “Who’d have thought the city’s very own ‘prude princess’ would be blacking out over some dick?” 

You should be ridiculed, would be utterly offended by the insult, if not for the fact that his cock has you teetering the delicate line of consciousness. Those words are precisely what send you over the edge for the second time tonight. 

“Fuck, stay right there,” a low, gravelly groan as Terushima continues pounding into you. Then, a few more prods and he’s following suit, pulling out to spill his seed all over your backside. 

Vision still spotty, you finally turn to look at the beautiful man, hoping for rosy cheeks and that soft smile you believe is a secret saved just for you. Instead you’re met with a dull frown and a look of pure apathy. 

He won’t even meet your eyes. 

“Can you walk the block or should I drive you?” Though he poses the question, the lack of his typical liveliness tells you everything you need to know about his preference: he doesn’t have one. 

Somewhere far away, you hear yourself tell him you’ll walk. Your head’s still caught on cloud nine, or perhaps it was only ever the ninth circle of hell—twisted and contorted by black cherry and rotten greens.

“Are you sure? You look a little shaken,” he laughs, that same hoarse tone you once thought charming now seeming gnarled and vicious. The taunts once endearing, now simply malicious. 

From the corner of your eye you spot his phone, unlocked and teeming with messages. A flash of a familiar black leather skirt bunching, a flip of your hair, pieces of your purity plastered across his screen for the world to see. 

You walk back home in silence. 

[ameliajessicawilliamspond]

PART 1

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"Where is this blasted thing?" Luke complained, opening the map for the tenth time in the last 10 minutes.

"Same distance as the last time you checked the map." Din mused. Luke pursed his lips and closed the map, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He and Luke had done many missions together, both searching for what the remnants of the fallen Empire wanted with Grogu and the Jedi, as well as Luke's never ending search for more information on the strange ancient religion.

"You alright?" Din asked. Luke had been fidgety and testy the whole trip to Kajimi and had become downright orny ever since they stepped foot on the planet.

Luke huffed in frustration, shoving his nose into his scarf. "I'm not a fan of the cold." he mumble from beneath the fabric.

"Yeah I picked up on that." Din said, an amused huff escaping his lips.

Luke shot the Mandalorian a hard side glance, like a teenager throwing a fit. Luke always kept himself so stoic and distant, a protective mask from everyone around him. Seeing it slip because of some cold weather made his heart do a funny little flip. Yet the other side of him knew it obviously upset the Jedi so he stopped pressing him. He slipped his own scarf off and wrapped it around the jedi's neck. Luke looked at him incredulously but the Mandalorian just shrugged. "I run warm."

A while on -and lots of huffing and puffing from the Jedi later- they finally began to approach their destination.

"The holocron should be inside this cavern." Luke mumbled from beneath the scarves, nose burried in the holomap.

"Waterfall." Din corrected.

"...Cavern." Luke repeated, not looking up.

"Yeah...under a waterfall." Din said, pointing ahead. Luke finally looked up and saw what Din meant. a cavernous mouth to a cave, beneath a huge, freezing waterfall, billowing into a cold, deep lake.

Luke's blue eyes bulged. "Kriff."

The pair snuck up the side of the embankment with just enough distance to be able to avoid falling into freezing water below.

Luke hit a slippery patch amd let out a yelp as his foot slipped. Din reacted quickly, yanking the Jedi back up to the snowy embankment, the momentum putting them nearly nose to nose with each other. Din's breath seemed to catch in his throat as Luke sucked in a breath himself, his bright eyes locked with Din's visor.

"No falling behind." Din said, shaking Luke from whatever stupor just grasped him. The jedi nodded and they pressed forward, carefully approaching the ice cold waterfall.

"Seems there's no going around it." Din said, pressing forward but Luke grabbed his arm.

"Wait." he said, voice demanding yet gentle as the jedi stepped in front of him, eyes rolling back in his head. His hand shot up, palm open toward the falls.

Din stared in awe as the waters parted like a curtain. "Go." Luke said, eyes still closed. Din slipped around him and jumped into the hidden cave. Luke followed like a blind man, hand extended and eyes closed, but shoulders squared with determination, confidence in each step. Once in, he finally opened his eyes and dropped his hand. The waters slammed shut behind them.

Luke spotted Din staring, unmoving at him. "What?" He asked, slightly bashful.

What could he say? He was in awe of Luke and his abilities? Luke always surprised him? He was so beyond what Din could ever be himself? Luke was...Luke was amazing. "I wish you could teach me that." Is what he ended up settling on.

Luke let out a small laugh, lips parting into a smile and despite the cold, Din felt a warmth spread through his chest. "Come on," Luke said, taking the lead. "The holocron should be straight ahead."

They finally were right on top of where the holocron should be. But in its place was a giant hole in the side of the cave wall where it had been hidden. Luke dropped his head. "No..." he whispered to the ground.

"Smugglers or pirates, most likely. The Spice Runners of Kajimi are in this area." Din said, examining the square hole.

"They probably sold it by now." Luke said, arms flailing in an 'of course' sort of gesture. "Its long gone, probably has been for a long time."

"Not nessesarily. These are new markings on this. It would have been within the last week they found this. " Din said, trying to ease the already frustrated Jedi's mind. Luke rubbed his forehead. "If we find their camp we may be able to relocate the device."

"...Alright Fine." Luke said, biting his cheek, clearly irritated. "We're never getting off this frozen rock." He mumbled, rubbing his arms as be began to march back to the mouth of the waterfall.

"Hey," Din called, rushing to block the jedi's path. Luke avoided his helmet's gaze as Din finally grasped him by the shoulders. "Luke, talk to me."

Luke fidgeted in his grasp, looking anywhere but his visor. His eyes finally settled on the destroyed hole where the holocron had been, eyes distant.

"I'm from a desert planet." He began. "Tattooine."

"I'm familiar." Din said, earning a slightly surprised glance from the jedi.

"I'm...I'm already not used to the cold. And then later on in the war we were stationed on Hoth." Luke shifted from one foot to the other, obviously contimplating if he wanted to continue. "I was out on last patrol when I was attacked by a Wampa."

"You were attacked by a Wampa and survived?" Din questioned.

Luke just shrugged, and Din could tell that, somehow, being attacked by a kriffing Wampa wasn't even at the worst part of this story. "I escaped, but by the time I did it was approaching nightfall and the winds had picked up. There was snow everywhere, all I could see was white in front of me and I...I was so cold..." Luke pulled out of Din's grasp and turned away. "I fell. I fell and didn't get back up. Ben wanted me to go to Dagobah but... I was so sure I was going to die there." Din stepped forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Han found me. Stuffed me in his dead Tauntaun to keep warm while he built a shelter. I smelled like rotting flesh for a week...and..." Luke sniffed, pulling himself together. "...And the next day the Empire attacked and I got shot down. My co-pilot Dak didn't make it... I lost a good friend." Luke said, looking at Din, eyes distant.

Din spun Luke around and pulled him in for a tight hug. "I'm sorry. That sounds awful." He offered.

Luke tensed for a moment before melting into the hug. They stayed like that for a long time before Luke finally broke the silence. "You do run warm." He mumbled into his shoulder.

Din laughed. "Come on, let's find those blasted smugglers and get off this rock."

They went back to the cave entrance, Luke reaching foward, parting the waters once again. Din stepped through before Luke's eyes snapped opened and yelled, "No, Din, WAIT--!"

Before Luke could finish, something wrapped around his leg and yanked him into the lake below.

Din sunk below the water, waterlogged vision spotting a large monster with at least 5 tentacles keeping him below the surface. He reached for his blaster, shooting at the monster. It made a noise and the grip on his leg disappeared. Din swam with all his might back to the top, grabbing on to Luke's extended hand.

Another tentacle shot up, latching around his torso and pulling him below once again. Above him, he saw a green laser appear as the jedi ignited his lightsaber as another tentacle shot up above the water toward him. He sliced at it, making the thing bellow once again. The grip on Din loosened but not enough for him to pull out of the tight grasp.

A splash from above caught the Mandalorian's attention. Luke was swimming right toward the creature. Din squirmed and fought to free his arms so he could shoot it again but he was weakening by the second. Through greying vision he watched the Jedi reach forward and touch the monster's head, the scarf Dinnhad given him dangling from his back pocket. Din felt the grip around him loosen too late as water filled his lungs and his vision went dark.

The next thing he knew he was back on the bank of the lake. Luke was above him, coat missing, soaking wet, and leaning over his him, lips having just left his own. Din thought he had to be dreaming or dead until he felt the aggressive shoving on his chest. His ringing ears picked up on Luke begging him to breathe.

He tried to inhale, but instead was greeted with a coughing fit, water spilling from his lips before finally managing a small, shaky breath.

"Oh thank the Force." Luke breathed out, head dropping. "We need to get you somewhere warm." Luke said, pulling the coat he once wore up Din's chest, tucking it around him.

Before Din could attempt to object, something grabbed the Jedi's attention. His head whipped to the side and his eyes widened. "Kriff!" Luke shoved Din's helmet back on him before throwing his arms up in a defensive stance, hand shaking violently. "Please, we don't want any trouble. He hurt! He needs to go somewhere warm! Please!" Luke begged, but his pleas seemed to land of deaf ears. Hand decended on the Jedi and pulled him from where he kneeled next to the Mandalorian. "No, no!!" Luke yelled as he was dragged away from Din's side.

Din shifted, rolling onto his stomach, trying to call for Luke but instead earning himself another coughing fit. From his new position he could see Luke strugglnng witn a large group of people. Din couldn't tell if Luke was holding back because he didn't want to reveal his identity to these scoundrels or because he was still trying to beg them for help, but either way the large group finally overpowered the jedi. They pinned his arms out wide and his head was shoved violently to the side, a needle shoved into his neck. Luke tensed before slumping in their grasp. Din tried to reach for something, anything, any weapon but couldn't find the strength to even lift his hand.

"Leave that one. He's as good as dead." The group laughed.

Din watched as Luke was carried away like he was nothing more than stolen loot.

"L...Luke..." Din managed, before his frozen body slipped into unconsciousness.

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

REQUESTED TAGGED: @theonlyredcar

Comment below if you would like to be tagged in part 2!

[darthkruge]

Okay okay okay so imagine Reader is abducted by the separatists because she ( or nb reader ) is a very well loved member of the senate. So obviously Anakin goes to save her, but his idiot plan gets him captured as well so then it's up to Reader to talk her way out of this mess, get to her idiot boyfriend, free him and then both of them try to make it out alive. Bonus points for Obi-Wan looking very tired and sick of Anakin's ideas in the background. What do you think?

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader ~ Rescue Operations?

Summary: After the Reader is captured by the Separatists, Anakin rushes to save her. When this doesn’t work out, the Reader has to get her and her boyfriend out of this mess. 

Warnings: Language, whump, one scene where the Reader gets beat up, Reader is a badass, Anakin is completely in love with his badass girlfriend and we love that for him

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Catherine, my love!! I’m sorry this took me so long, I have nothing to say for myself other than my poor organization skills. But I’m obsessed with this request, I hope I did it justice <3

gif credit (x)

You groaned as you opened your eyes and attempted to shake the drowsiness that seemed to cling to your very bones. You blinked, trying to get your bearings and remember what had happened. You were preparing for your speech at the Senate, trying to pass a peace treaty between the Republic and some smaller territories that were debating joining the fight against the Separatists. You’d been fighting for support for the treaty for months and you finally had the chance to give one last speech before the vote. 

You’d been pacing in your Coruscant apartment, practicing the speech for your boyfriend a million times. After you finished your recitation, you exited the room, needing to get your notes that you’d seemed to misplace. So you went into your office and… nothing.

Why couldn’t you remember after that?! You opened the door to your office, walked inside, and… 

You sighed as you came back to the present, leaning against the wall behind you and looking around. You were clearly in a cell of some sort and the Separatists were almost certainly behind this. You were still in your Senate attire, although it had been thoroughly scuffed up, and they’d taken your datapad and other communication devices. You felt around your boot and smiled. Your knife was still there. They must have assumed you wouldn’t be carrying a weapon to your speech and not done a thorough enough check. Whatever the reason, you were thanking the Maker it was still there. 

Back in Coruscant, Anakin was walking the Temple halls in a crazed state. When you didn’t show up for your speech, he immediately panicked. He knew how important this treaty was for you and the entire Republic; you’d been going over it for forever and there is no way you’d just blow it off without telling anyone. The rest of the Senate was also concerned. You’d grown up in one of the poorer districts and, thus, had a sense of relatability and humility that most were drawn to. Whether or not they agreed with your policies, almost everyone could understand that you always kept the interest of the people at the forefront of your mind. 

When Obi-Wan walked up to him with a ripped piece of your clothes and your scattered and crumpled notes, Anakin felt his heart drop. 

“It was the Separatists. They must have knocked her out in her office and escaped through the vents.”

Upon seeing his absolutely heartbroken expression, Obi-Wan added, “We’ll get her back, Anakin. I promise.”

Anakin could only nod, ideas for a plan to save you already running round his head. 

You’d been in this kriffing cell for four days now. Or maybe it was five? You were desperately trying to keep your wits about you but it was so hard; they brought you a tiny ration of food and water once a day and it was not near enough to keep your strength up. You’d spent your time trying to carve your way through the bars but your knife was no match and you quickly gave up, not wanting to dull the blade. You’d found a loose brick hidden around the floor and used the knife to cut it out, allowing you to hide your weapon under it on the off chance they searched you again. 

You tried to think of a plan to escape but they hadn’t even opened your door yet. There was no way you could get out by yourself and, until someone came in that you could attack, it was pointless to even try. They kept you in complete darkness and silence, no way to tell how much time had passed aside from the daily rations. You assumed you were on a Separatist base but that proved unhelpful; they were widespread and the cell held no defining features of climate or location. You had tried calling out to see if anyone else was around. Each time, you were met with your own echo. 

You stilled, hearing footsteps approach you. A Separatist guard opened your cell door, roughly pulling you out. You yelped, legs not cooperating after so long of sitting in the cramped cell. He led you into another room that was barely brighter than your own. Sizing up the guard, you felt fear creep in. No matter how hard you tried to banish your anxieties, knowing they’d only serve to lessen your already shaken focus, it was sometimes impossible. 

“Tell us which planets are deserting.” He commanded.

You met his stare evenly, refusing to let your fear betray you. There was absolutely no chance you’d tell him anything. As soon as the Separatists learned which planets were thinking about joining the Republic, they’d send armies to wipe them out immediately. You refused to let that happen.

“Fine. Be that way.” The man pulled his fist back and sent it into your cheek, the impact sending sparks of pain throughout your entire body. He brought his foot up, kicking you in the gut and you fell harshly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hair, hoisting up your body as if it were a ragdoll. You gathered your strength and spit in his face, enjoying the way his smug look disappeared. In retaliation, he slammed you into the wall, the impact making stars cloud your vision. 

The man released you and you fell, your consciousness already starting to detach from your body. You tried to reason with yourself, hoping logic would aid you. This is a trauma response. I’m not going to die. My body can take this. I will black out, but I will wake up again. They’re not going to kill me. They need me alive. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. Somehow, the hardest part is this was banishing the thoughts of that beautiful boy from your head. You knew that if you allowed yourself to think of him, to fathom how he would blame himself should this be your end, you would give in. 

Instead, you focussed on the physical pain you felt, on the rage you channeled to this guard. You hated how weak you felt, how exhausted you were. You allowed your mind to hone in on all the ways you could hurt this man, given you had your full strength. You let yourself hate yourself, appalled at how you couldn’t even fight back. With every punch he threw at you, you went further into your head, into the one place this man couldn’t touch. Eventually, your mind started spinning from dehydration, pain, and overexertion. All you could do was curl into a fetal position and hope it somehow stopped. 

“What do you mean you’re going to find her?” Obi-Wan said, running after Anakin.

“It’s been days, Obi-Wan, days. There are only so many Separatist bases in the galaxy and Y/N’s on one of them.”

“Anakin, don’t you think they’ve planned for a rescue mission?! This is Senator L/N we’re talking about! And they took her right before the vote, this was clearly a thought-out attack, stop acting like it’s simple!”

“It is simple! Those Separatist assholes have Y/N. And it’s been days. What if she thinks we forgot about her? What if she thinks we’ve given up? They could be doing fucking anything to her and I’m not going to let her stay there for another minute!”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began but Anakin waved him off.

“I’m sorry, Master. But if the Council won’t do anything, I will.”

“Anakin, the Council is trying! They just don’t have enough troops right now to send a full rescue mission after one Senator. They just want a few more days, then some troops should be back from their missions and you can have your full battalion.” Obi-Wan took a breath and lowered his voice, empathy for his friend clear in his words. “I know you love her. I want her back, too, you know. I’ve grown quite fond of her; her friendship is quite dear to me. All I’m asking is you be careful and think this through.”

“Believe me, I have thought this through. I wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger, we both know that. And while a few days doesn’t seem like much to the Council, we’ve seen the harm these Separatists can inflict in far less. Listen, it might not be the strongest plan I’ve ever made but, if it’s between a semi-formed plan and none at all, the choice is already made.”

With that, Anakin jumped into his ship and took off into the night. Obi-Wan sighed, leaning his head into his palm. He knew how much you meant to him and he knew of Anakin’s frustration with the Council. They moved slowly, wanting to figure out every angle before jumping into a decision. While Anakin was a brilliant strategist, he tended to act impulsively when someone he loved was in danger. As Anakin traveled further and further from Coruscant, the older Jedi could only hope that the both of you returned home quickly and safely. 

Anakin looked at his ship’s display and cursed when he realized he was low on fuel. He’d been piloting for hours and there was still no sign of you. He was searching out for you with the Force and, still, nothing. Finally, he felt a faint energy pulse through the Force. He followed it to what was supposed to be an old abandoned Separatist base, concerned by how weak your lifeforce felt. 

He parked the ship and got out carefully, trying not to alert anyone to his presence. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it. He saw an open door and ran through it, relief blinding him as he felt your energy grow stronger with each step he took. He turned the corner and saw a crumpled body on the floor of a tiny cell.

No, Anakin thought, it can’t be her. 

Without thinking, Anakin ignited his lightsaber, wanting to use the light to discern if the figure was truly you. The noise bounced off the walls and startled you awake. He mentally cursed himself and instinctively turned off the saber, not missing the even louder noise it made with it turned off. He inwardly facepalmed, realizing if he hadn’t alerted the guards before, they sure as hell knew now. 

You blinked groggily, wincing at your immense injuries and bruises. You remembered passing out while that asshole beat you and now you-

Wait, You thought, is that a fucking lightsaber?

You knew you must have heard it wrong, there’s no way the Council would have approved a relief mission this quickly. Further, there is no way it would consist of just one Jedi. 

Suddenly, the lightsaber re-lit, illuminating your boyfriend’s face. His determined expression grew stronger as he noticed the 10 guards surrounding him and pointing their blasters directly at his head. You smiled. He could take out ten guards with his eyes closed. You called to him in shock, hardly believing your eyes. He looked at you and immediately widened his eyes as he saw a guard come up behind you and point a blaster directly at you from outside your cell. 

“Lightsaber on the floor, Jedi, or the girl dies.” The guard growled. 

He looked at you in anguish and you could tell he was already beating himself up for “messing up” your escape plan. You shook your head, hoping he understood your message: this isn’t your fault. 

“Anakin don’t-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before his weapon was on the floor. He put his hands on his head. As they grabbed him, you stood in helpless silence as they threw him in the cell beside you. They locked the doors and, once again, you were in darkness. 

You desperately crawled to the edge of your cell, trying to reach out to him. He was doing the same and when you felt his fingertips against yours, you almost started sobbing. You weren’t alone anymore.

“You came for me.” Your voice was soft, disbelief lacing your words. 

“Of course I did, my love.”

Then, as if everything finally registered in your brain, you reached out and tried to slap his arm. “Anakin, what about the Council? They’ll kill you when they realize you went on a rescue mission, alone, and without approval! Ani, the only thing keeping me going in here was knowing that you were safe! And now you’ve gotten yourself thrown right next to me, no weapons, no light, no food, no water, no escape! What the fuck are we going to do?!”

Anakin had opened and closed his mouth multiple times throughout your speech, trying to find a way to plead his case but was left without one. 

“I just wanted to save you.” The grief in his voice made you sigh and take a step back. This was your Anakin you were talking about. Your safety was his priority, always. Besides, doing all this because he was afraid for you? You couldn’t possibly stay mad. You smiled, despite yourself. Anakin. You thought, slightly shaking your head. 

“Fuck, I love you. Is it selfish that there’s a small part of me that’s glad you’re here with me?” You said, breaking the silence. 

Anakin breathed out a sigh of relief, glad you weren’t upset with him anymore. “Not at all, my love. So long as it isn’t bad that my least favorite part of this is not being able to see or kiss you properly because of this damn darkness.”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers with his once again. “You wouldn’t want to see me right now.”

Anakin froze. “Y/N? What are you talking about?” His voice was serious, clipped. He knew you would try and make it seem less than it was. You winced, realizing there was no way to lie your way out of this one.

“Just what the Separatists would call aggressive negotiations, I presume.”

“How bad?”

“It’s fine, Ani, I promise. Let’s just focus on getting out of here, okay?”

Anakin took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Alright. But as soon as we get back you’re going to a medical droid.”

You groaned. “Anakin I hate-”

“I know you hate the medical droids. But that’s only because they always rat you out when you try and lie to me about the extensiveness of your injuries.”

“You lie about how bad your injuries are, too! Remember that one time you came back from Kamino?!”

Anakin laughed, despite himself. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You were literally bleeding from the head! And you said, and I quote, ‘it’s just a scratch’” Every time you thought back to that day, you were incredulous. 

“Alright, alright! Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“That’s my line!”

“Y/N,” He warned.

You smiled. Maker, you missed him. You honestly didn’t think that anyone else would have you laughing while you were beaten and captured. 

“Okay. What’s the plan?” Anakin said, back to the matter at hand.

You lowered your voice, leaning toward his cell so you could talk without being heard. “I snuck a knife in with me and I’ve been able to keep it a secret. Now that you’re here, it might actually come in handy. The problem was that I couldn’t stab anyone because no one would come into the cell. I need you to get them here. Push them against the side of your cell, the one closest to me, and I’ll stab them. Then while they’re hurt, you run out, unlatch my cell, and we’ll go.”

“I’m dating a fucking genius!” You could just about hear the smile in his voice. 

You smirked. All things considered, you were pretty proud of yourself. 

“When do you want to do this?”

“They bring daily food and water rations in the morning, I think? I can’t exactly tell what time it is, they’ve kept it so dark and isolated. Regardless, the next time they come by I need you to get them in here. They normally just leave the food outside and push it under the door.”

Anakin could hear the disorientation in your words and wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, to be able to hold you and reassure you that it would all be alright. 

“Okay, angel. Got it.”

“Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming to get me. It’s really good to hear your voice.”

“Always, my love.”

Both of you silenced when you heard those footsteps. You smiled for the first time as you heard them. We’re going to get out of here.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Y/N! This brick in here is loose!” Anakin announced loudly. You bit your cheek to suppress a smile as you watched Anakin catch the guard’s attention.

“What did you say, Jedi?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anakin responded, dramatically feigning innocence. 

The guard huffed and you internally cheered as he roughly opened the door. He walked over to your boyfriend, keeping the blaster pointed at him. As soon as the guard’s attention shifted to the “loose” brick, Anakin used the force to knock the blaster out of his hand and push him against the wall of the cell where you slashed his Achilles tendons. 

The guard howled in pain and you knew you had to work quickly if you were to get out of here before the rest of the Separatists found you. Anakin fumbled with the latch on your cell, the immense darkness making it difficult. Finally, he got it open and ushered you out. The both of you took off in a run and he gripped your hand with his metal one as you did so. 

You immediately stopped as you felt his hand roughly pulled from yours. 

“We’ve got you now, Skywalker” The guard said.

“Y/N, you ready?”

You blinked, unsure what he was referring to. Then, you heard an object whipping through the air and on instinct shot your hand out, catching it. You ignited Anakin’s lightsaber that he had summoned to you with the Force, it’s signature buzz making you feel powerful beyond words. 

The light caught you off guard and you squinted until your eyes adjusted. You saw Anakin held back by two guards. Hearing faint footsteps, you took off in a run. Anakin ducked as you swung wildly, hitting and taking out both guards.

“You done holding us up?” You said, extending your hand toward him once more and passing him his lightsaber. 

Anakin smiled, accepting it. “My sincerest apologies.” 

You both ran, hand-in-hand, until you finally made it to the exit.

“What?” You said, as Anakin stopped abruptly and looked at you, panicked. 

“The ship! It’s out of fuel!”

“It’s what?!”

“I-” Anakin and you stared at each other, flickers of doubt coming into your gaze. You can’t believe that you’d been able to escape for nothing. 

“Anakin! Y/N!”

You whipped your head around at the sound and were met with another ship a few meters down, Obi-Wan piloting it.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?” You and Anakin looked at each other in shock before taking off in a sprint, one guard now close behind you. 

He started shooting and Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, deflecting some of the shots. As he focused on that, you pulled your knife back out of your boot and sent it flying into the guard’s chest, effectively stopping his pursuit. 

Anakin smirked at you, awestruck. You shrugged before jumping into the ship, extending your arm to Anakin and helping to pull him up with you. You entered and immediately leaned against the wall of the ship, relief coursing through you. You laughed and Anakin joined in. He immediately pulled you into him, kissing you hard. 

He broke away from the kiss, looking at you with adoration. “You are a fucking badass!! You’ve never even held a lightsaber and between that and your fucking tiny knife you took out four guards!! I didn’t even get any! I’m not going to lie, Y/N, I’m a bit jealous.”

You laughed, leaning into him but wincing. As the adrenaline wore off, your pain was suddenly quite palpable. He noticed and pulled back, scanning your face and body. 

His smile fell as the extent of your injuries sunk in. Your busted cheek, scratched face, and ripped clothing that exposed some of your many bruises across your torso and limbs were overwhelming. 

“You kids alright in there?” Obi-Wan said, walking in from the cockpit. His smile died on his face as well as he took in your form.

“I’m alright, guys. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You said dismissively.

“That doesn’t look like nothing!” Anakin shot back. 

Obi-Wan looked at you apologetically. “Anakin’s right, Y/N. Please, rest. We’ll be back to Coruscant soon.” 

Coruscant! The Senate! “My speech!! Fuck, I had to present my speech! I’ve been gone, what, a week? They’ve probably already voted, Kriff.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “They decided to suspend the vote until you were back, Senator. They truly care for you and your policies.”

Your heart swelled at Obi-Wan’s words. You looked into Anakin’s eyes and saw that he agreed with the statement full heartedly. He took your hand and gently ran his thumb up and down its back. 

“Rest, my love.” He whispered to you, coaxing you to lie down on the coach and pulling off his Jedi cloak. He wrapped it around you as a makeshift blanket, smiling as you pulled it closer to you and drifted off. 

Obi-Wan walked up to Anakin and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave her be, okay?”

“I don’t want her to wake up when I’m not here.”

The elder Jedi nodded in understanding. “She’s exhausted, she won’t awaken until we get back to the temple, I assure you. And if she does, you’ll just be in the other room.”

Anakin looked at you once more before smoothing the hair back from your face and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. He let his palm run down your cheek before he finally pulled himself away and walked into the cockpit with Obi-Wan. 

“So, how did you plan pan out?”

Anakin looked at his former Master, unamused. “I think you already know. How’d you know to come get us, anyway?”

“Well, when you didn’t come back or even attempt to contact the Council for over a day I assumed something had happened. I tracked your ship.”

Anakin nodded. “If not for Y/N, we’d probably both be dead.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I heard! Four guards?! You’ve found yourself a good one.”

Anakin smiled. No words were needed, everyone knew that was completely and utterly true.

------

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[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest. 

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.  

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers. 

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex. 

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.” 

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.” 

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen. 

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?” 

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.” 

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day. 

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day? 

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head. 

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.” 

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.” 

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea. 

“Are we there?” 

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots. 

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.” 

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks. 

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were. 

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect. 

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other. 

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf. 

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots. 

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon. 

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke. 

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank. 

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more. 

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank. 

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you. 

Fuck I think I love you. 

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn. 

“You know Frank, I think I love you.” 

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat. 

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel. 

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts. 

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now. 

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment. 

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second. 

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

[roselarkiin]

Brettsey + 2

So... this one didn't really turn out all that fluffy, but I hope it's okay!

#2 "The thought of losing you scares me."

In hindsight, running into a burning building without turnout gear or back up probably isn't the best idea she's ever had.

But she honestly doesn't see how she had any other choice.

Sylvie and Violet have just dropped their patient off at Med. Nothing crazy - a kid with an ulna fracture. A damn near routine call considering some of the things they see.

They're driving down 14th Street, on their way back to the firehouse, when they notice the smoke billowing out of the apartment building ahead of them.

Eyes fill with alarm as Sylvie slows the ambo to a stop. It's dark, and it's late, and there aren't any people around. Which in this situation is strange.

Sylvie can't make out the telltale sound of sirens approaching. There aren't any residents milling around the evacuation point either, like she would expect with a fire already this involved.

It's all so disconcerting.

Sylvie unbuckles her seatbelt, steps out of the ambulance, instructs Violet to radio main and find out which companies are on their way, see if they require sixty-one to stay on the scene.

She steps toward the building. The fire is at the other end of the complex, but the heat coming off the structure is almost unbearable.

There's smoke escaping from a few second story windows, and she can make out the flickering of orange flames from further inside the apartment.

Violet approaches at a jog, and Sylvie turns to face her partner expectantly.

"They weren't aware of a fire at this location," Violet says, the corners of her mouth turn down into a frown at the sight of the building. "They're assigning someone now."

Sylvie nods. Her brow creases, and she furrows her bottom lip into her mouth.

There's something really wrong with this scene. There should be alarms going off, alerting everyone to the danger.

She's seen her fair share of apartment fires in her time on the job, and it's usually chaos. All noise and people everywhere. This is the exact opposite. Eerily quiet with no one about.

These apartments aren't deserted. Surely someone should have made it out by now.

It could be another five, ten minutes before help arrives on the scene. She knows from experience just how much every second counts in a situation like this.

She can't just stand idly by, waiting for someone to arrive. She needs to get as many people out as she can.

"Violet," Sylvie starts and turns her head to look at her partner. "I'm not going to ask you to-"

As if she can sense what Sylvie is about to say, Violet cuts her off. "No way," she says, with an adamant shake of her head. "I'm not letting you go in there alone!"

There's a look of determination on the younger paramedic's face. One that tells Sylvie there's nothing she can say to change Violet's mind.

So she doesn't bother to try.

They enter the building, using their sleeves to cover their face as best they can.

Violet follows her orders, realizes they don't have time to argue, and goes down the hallway Sylvie tells her to. The one with less smoke. Away from the fire.

Sylvie might not be able to stop Violet from following her into the building, but she's damn well going to do everything in her power to keep her partner out of harm's way.

The hallways are dark and filled with smoke. Sylvie can barely make anything out or get her bearings.

She manages to find a door, bangs her fist against it until someone answers. It's easier after that.

Knock on the door until she wakes whoever's in the apartment, follow the wall along to the next door, and repeat.

Most can get themselves out of the building. The ones that can't, family members or neighbors are happy to escort them. It helps, means she can get to more people faster, without having to run up and down and out again and again.

By her estimation, she's able to clear about half the floor before she needs to get out. Before the cough and the ache in her chest becomes too much to bear.

She follows the last family down the stairs, meets up with Violet on her way out. They exit the building together and cough and sputter as they gasp for air.

She's hunched over, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath.

"Brett!" She recognizes the voice instantly, stiffens as Matt grabs her shoulders. Her eyes are closed. She can't see him, but she can hear the concern in his voice.

"I'm fine," she rasps, her voice hoarse. Tries to reassure him. She doesn't need to see him to know it hasn't worked. She coughs again.

She tries to brush him off. He should be running the initial search. Not here with her.

She's fine, really. Tries to tell him again, but she can't get the words out. Her throat burns.

An open water bottle is shoved into her hands. From Gallo, she thinks. He's an angel.

She takes a few mouthfuls, swishes the water around in her mouth, spits it onto the ground before gulping the rest of the water down. Another full bottle quickly replaces the empty one.

"Are you insane?" Matt shouts. The concern turns to anger. His hands on her shoulders tighten, shakes her a little. "What the hell were you thinking, Sylvie? Why would you do something so incredibly stupid? You could have got yourself killed!"

The relief she felt, having Matt there when she exited the building, is replaced with irritation. And she gets it. He's afraid. She scared him; she understands that. But there's no reason for him to be so patronizing.

She probably understands more about what he's feeling right now than he does.

Because the emotions he experiences in this moment are exactly what she goes through every time she stands on the sidelines while she watches him run headlong into a burning building.

Whatever he's feeling, though, she is not some child to be scolded, and she doesn't appreciate him yelling at her like she is.

She knows her limits. She would never push herself past what she knows herself to be capable of.

She's vaguely aware of the orders he barks to the other members of eighty-one, but he makes no move to leave her side.

In any other situation, she might find it sweet, but in any other situation, he'd be leading his team in the search. Not standing here with her.

His grip softens on her arm, moves to her back. It does nothing to comfort her. In fact, it just makes her feel worse. Like she's being suffocated. Though that might be the smoke inhalation.

Her eyes narrow at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She's furious with him. For talking down to her the way he did, in front of their friends and colleagues. For treating her like she's some child he's been tasked to deal with and not his girlfriend. His equal.

It's embarrassing.

She doesn't yell back at him, as much as she may want to. She doesn't have the energy for that. Even if she did, she doesn't think her throat could handle it. And this is not the right place for this conversation.

Instead, she looks at him, head cocked slightly to the side, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You know, if this had been anyone else, you would not have spoken to them the way you just spoke to me," she says, with as much force as she can muster. It's not a lot, but it's surprisingly more than she thought possible at this moment. "You would have been singing their praises. Commending them for helping so many people, a job well done."

"Sylvie-"

"Go. There are still people inside. You have a job to do, Casey."

He looks confused for a split second before composing himself. She doesn't have a chance to dwell on it. She's pulled away to be looked at by the medics from ambulance ninety.

Suddenly, everything shifts back to the way it always is. Sylvie, at the ambo, watching Matt anxiously, as he runs into a burning building.

... ... ...

One of these days, Matt thinks, Sylvie Brett is going to be the death of him.

Maybe he'd lost it a little back at the scene. Spoke to her in a way that he shouldn't.

When they'd arrived and found sixty-one already on scene, he didn't think too much of it. It wasn't all that uncommon for the ambo to beat them to the scene, especially when coming straight from another call.

But when they exited the truck and neither Sylvie nor Violet were anywhere to be seen, a resident informed them the paramedics in question were inside, helping to evacuate everyone.

Sylvie was inside the burning building.

He'd just been about to run in after her when she exited the building, coughing and sputtering, covered head to toe in black soot.

All the blood rushed from his face, and his heart pounded in his chest so hard he felt it might explode.

He saw nothing but her, rushed straight to her, not entirely in control of his actions. He'd shouted at her, and he shouldn't have.

She'd looked at him with hurt in her eyes and calmly told him that if it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have spoken to them that way.

He thinks that look hurt more than if she had just yelled back. Because he knows she's right. Fucking, of course, she is. She's always been able to see right through him.

Seeing her standing there, covered in ash, terrified him. He could have lost her.

He'd flashed back to a time years ago, the only other time he's seen her like that. The Arnow fire. Where they'd lost Otis. Where he'd almost lost her. Had lost her, for a time, though only temporarily.

Then she was dragged away, and he had a job to do. He needed to focus. His people could get hurt if the task at hand didn't have his total concentration.

He thinks Sylvie's been avoiding him - he doesn't blame her because the next time he sees her, it's almost the end of shift. Eighty-one had two more calls after the apartment fire. Sixty-one had five.

Sylvie and Violet refused to take Sixty-one out of service. And he had to bite his tongue. As hard as it was.

They always just seemed to be passing each other. Never in the same place at the same time. As if some invisible force was working to keep them apart. It's killing him.

He finds her by their lockers. Her shoulders tense when she senses his presence. Imperceptible to anyone else. But not to him. Never to him.

He's explored and learned every inch of her body these last three months. Even the slightest change does not go unnoticed.

He steps further into the locker room. By some miracle, they're alone.

"I'm sorry," he says, quiet and all sincere. It never should have taken him this long to say the words. This is their first fight. If he can even call it that.

He'd been an ass. He knows he's going to have to grovel to make it right again.

He sees her shoulders shift, relax slightly as the tension ebbs away. Sylvie turns, leans against the open door of her locker to look at him. She gives him that same sad smile again. Not unlike the look she gave him last night. His chest aches.

"I'm sorry," she says as well, and she means it. From the way she says it, he knows she's not apologizing for running into a burning building. No, he gives her a soft smile, she'll never apologize for that. He doesn't expect her to either. Instead, she's apologizing for the scare she gave him.

He closes the distance between them, reaches out, and pulls her to him. She lets him, allows herself to melt into him. Her head rests against his shoulder, her arms wrap around his waist.

He's got one hand on her back, pulls her as close as physically possible. The other weaves into her hair, twists the blonde locks between his fingers.

They stand there, alone, not saying anything, holding each other tight. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against his as she breathes is a reminder that she's here and she's safe; nothing happened to her. It comforts him.

Sylvie is the first to break the silence. "I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it won't ever happen again," she murmurs against his chest.

He huffs, lets out a quiet chuckle, strokes his hand through her hair again. "I know."

Selfishly, he'd love for her to tell him that. But given the chance, he knows she wouldn't change anything that happened on the call. And if it came down to it, she'd do it all over again, without giving it a second thought.

He's watched her do this job for years. She's always given so much of herself over to the job. He's always admired that about her. He wouldn't want that to change just because of him.

"It's just," he breathes, lips pressed into her hair, "the thought of losing you scares me." His voice is rough, shakier than he intends it to be.

Sylvie leans back to look him in the eye. Moving her hand up his side to his face, she caresses his cheek. He leans into her hand, closes his eyes.

"I know," she tells him. "Because that's exactly how I feel every time I have to watch you run into a fire."

"Sylvie, that's-"

"Don't." She cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head. "Don't say it's different. It's not. At least it doesn't feel like it is."

He stops, clamps his mouth shut. He's been on the job for so long now that it's really just become routine at this point. Stupidly, he's never really thought about it from Sylvie's perspective. That she might feel the same terror he did.

He takes her face between his hands, kisses her forehead, cheeks, peppers kisses everywhere until she laughs and smiles back at him. Then he stops, looks around the locker room, checking they're still alone, and captures her lips with his.

He wouldn't normally do this, not so out in the open at least. They try to keep their relationship strictly professional while they're in the common areas of the firehouse. But after the shift they've just had, he doesn't give a shit who sees.

Sylvie smiles, breathes a contented sigh against his lips, relaxes further into him. She breaks the kiss a second later.

"You're a bit needy, you know that," she says, with a teasing lilt, tries to break the tension.

It works. He laughs. A loud, genuine belly laugh. The first in hours. He plants another kiss against her lips, pulls her back against him.

"Can you blame me?"