#not sure I like the word imprint I might go with Bond heads up. because imprinting implies being a Baby

[bisexualmcqueen]

I was midway thru answering one of the asks about if ray lives in apocalypse au and I was saying No and shit when we changed our minds and decided it’d be way funnier if he was the only normal pickup truck left alive (via comedy and pure luck) so all the racecars can fight over who gets to imprint on him and I think that’s beautiful

(He and Jackson both think the other is dead and they narrowly avoid learning the truth for years via spinning door hinge gag)

[moth-ink]

I love your yandere alphabets! Could you do one on quil ateara?

YANDERE QUIL ATEARA ALPHABET

TW: Yandere themes, mentions of physical harm, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of stalking, dark themes.

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: me every compliment: 👉👈

🐺Affection — how do they show their love and affection? 

Lots of nuzzling around your face and neck, brushing his curly brown locks against you whether he's in his wolf form or not, gentle nosing around as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He'd even pick you up and spin you around in a hug, make sure not to squirm too much darling or he might drop you!

🐺Blood — how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He'd opt more for intimidation tactics than physical bloodshed, the vibrations of his growl would trigger most peoples prey instinct, giving them the incentive to back off.

The only time he'd ever really harm anyone is if he'd see you being seriously hurt, especially physically.

He'd lose control, wolfing out and locking his jaw into the person who's hurting his darling, it's unlikely he'd kill them, but life-long injuries would be sustained.

Enough that the doctors would doubt their story of a local boy turning into a giant wolf.

🐺Cruelty —  how would they treat their darling once abducted? 

He'd never hurt you in anyway, it'd go against his instinct to protect his pack, which now includes you.

His cruelness would likely come from only his lack of validation to your very real feelings of panic and fear, he'd maintain that same cheerful, easy-going exposition almost as if nothing happened.

🐺Darling — aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Your space is now no longer yours; he won't always be talking your ear off (but it's likely) but he'd always have to be near you, hopping around you like an excited rabbit no matter if you're just walking to the bathroom.

He'd justify that it's okay to touch you since he isn't trying anything untoward, he just can't help but cuddle his darling, he's just a friendly guy!

His imprint on you might also affect your own feelings towards him, that visceral bond having an effect on both parties.

🐺Exposed — how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Since he's always quite cheerful there isn't much to be vulnerable about, however he'd still open up to you about issues he's having or just his general life.

He does just like talking, but he wants to create that openness between both of you, your his imprint, his forever partner.

Please talk to him :-(

🐺Fight — how would they feel if their darling fought back?

He's quite a playful person so he'd find humor in it, almost like a puppy roughhousing with their litter, his grip would always remain gentle even as he 'tackles' you.

It mostly includes locking you gently in his arms and rolling on the floor, letting you rest on top of his chest no matter how much you bat and squirm.

🐺Game — is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He'd swing between to set moods, games and serious.

On one hand he might find it a little funny, inching back to that previously mentioned playfulness, but that'd only come if you tried to fight him head on-- you both know that you'd be unable to beat him.

His kicked puppy look would only come out if you were cleverer with your escape, opting for more tactical plans.

It'd upset him, because that means you had no intentions of being caught, meaning you were clearly trying to leave for real.

🐺Hell — what would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It isn't often it'd happen, his happy-go-lucky personality leaving him mostly in control with his shifting as opposed to the likes of Sam, but we've seen with Emily what could happen if he ever lost it.

It'd be likely if you said something to really set him off, the sorest point you could hit would be insulting his family and pack, claiming both him were mutts, monsters.

He'd be devastated, causing him to lose control of his shift, hurting you in the process with the consequences that come from standing too close, (i.e, Emily's scars.)

🐺Ideals — what kind of future do they have in mind for their darling?

He wants to stay with his family, but have you as an integral part of it, likely living in some nice farm type in the Forks woods.

It isn't that he wouldn't like to get married, but he doesn't feel as strongly about it as others would and is happy to do it or not depending on what you like.

He'd love to have his own children with you, regardless of adoption or not, to watch his young run and play amongst the green fields of the family house.

🐺Jealousy — do they get jealous? How do they handle it?

He mostly gets jealous whenever he sees you laughing at another mans jokes, he wants to be the only sun in your life, the one that makes you smile.

He'd stink of a jealous puppy, watching with a mix of a frown and a pout, lingering behind you with a harsh glare sent that person's way until they back off.

Maybe or maybe not even showing a flash of sharp teeth, perhaps a snarl here or there.

🐺Kisses — how do they act around or with their darling?

As bright as any person could be, always trying to make a giggle escape your lips with his jokes or antics.

He's clingier than a little boy, having to be close to you in some way or he'll go crazy, even when he's hanging out with the pack, he must have you nearby.

He'll remain just as smotheringly affectionate with or without his pack around, but he might start play wrestling the moment they tease him for it.

🐺Love letters — how would they go about approaching their darling?

He'd just sort of start following you and never stopping, hearts in his eyes as he watches you when you're aware or not aware of it, watching you walk down the street or sitting in a coffee shop.

Forks is a small area, meaning he'd likely just reason that it's likely you'd run into eachother.

But what he won't rationalize is the way he trails behind you, looking for even a speck of your attention, like he'd simply perish without it.

🐺Mask — are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Some might assume he'd never fall that deeply for anyone due to his laid-back demeanor, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

He'd act the same around his family, perhaps a bit more jealous when it comes to the likes of Sam or Embry trying to make you laugh or showing off, but he still adores his pack.

His sweetness would become sickly with you, the constant energy and need for you a bit exhausting.

🐺Naughty — how would they punish their darling?

His 'punishments' wouldn't be that serious, it'd either be nothing more than play.

But if you managed to really upset him, he might just hold you down in bed, wrapping his steel like arms around you and holding you like a doll to his chest.

He'd pout and tell you how much you trying to sneak past him hurt his feelings, but he knows that you didn't mean it, darling.

🐺Oppression — how many rights would they take away from their darling?

Your freedom would be completely stripped away along with any personal time, there wouldn't be a moments peace with him around, always having to be near you.

You also wouldn't be allowed on vampire territory anymore, you're now one of the pack whether you like it or not, meaning you'll follow those rules no matter what.

🐺Patience — how patient are they with their darling?

His casualness would amplify his patience, he doesn't see the need to get angry-- believing it'd only scare you away more.

At most he might get a little frustrated if you refuse to cuddle with him or only cry more when he tries to make you laugh.

But at worst he'd stamp his foot, saving any anger or upset for major things previously discussed.

🐺Quite — if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He'd never get over your death, especially because the imprint would lure him to the brink of death himself, his body unable to deal with such a loss.

If you managed to escape, he'd fully beast out into his wolf form, despair and desperation leading him to run through the forest tracking you down, not stopping for anything until your back in his arms.

🐺Regret — would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? 

The human aspect of him does feel a twinge of guilt for hurting his darling to this degree, but the wolf part of him couldn't help but feel anything but glee for having his mate so close to him at all times.

🐺Stigma — what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His primal instincts are more potent due to his shift than average people, his protective feelings being cranked up to an eleven, especially with how strong that side of him values pack and family.

The imprint only made things worse, it causes him physical and mental pain to be away from you, taking you seemed to be the only solution.

He's seen how happy everyone else is with their mates, it left him giddy for his own, to experience that utter bliss for himself.

And how could he resist when you're right there?

🐺Tears — how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He detests seeing you crying and upset, he only wants to see you smile and hear that perfect laughter leaving you, his chest would ache at the sight of tears.

He'd try desperately to turn that frown upside down, anything to dry the tears on your face, even if that means making a mockery of himself.

🐺Unique — would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Despite his physical abilities, you'd have some level of control over the mental aspects, the imprinted able to influence the imprinter somewhat with commands.

His yandere instincts would keep him from being fully bossed around, anything he thinks would threaten your safety (like freedom, apparently) overriding your order.

🐺Vice — what weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He's a bit too trusting of you right away, believing that you were meant to be not exactly giving him the paranoia he'd need to keep you from escaping.

All it'd take is some mock affection and pretending that you've fallen in love with him to get him wrapped around your finger, his eyes lighting up like fireworks.

🐺Wit’s end — would they ever hurt their darling?

Only on accident, if he ever lost control there's a fair chance that proximity could lead to harm in some sort of way, but it'd never be intentional, even deep in his thickest instincts he knows he needs to protect you.

He'd feel so guilty after, gently touching the spot with the utmost gentleness as he whimpers and sniffles, nuzzling against you as he attempts to make up for it.

🐺Xoanon — how much would they revere or worship their darling? 

You're the bright star in his life, the thing that keeps his word spinning around and his brightness from being dimmed, the shine that seems to make life worth living.

He revolves around you, spinning around your form to soak in every last bit of your light like he'd simply perish without it.

🐺Yearn — how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It'd only take about a few weeks, he already knew he needed you the moment his eyes landed on you and he felt that visceral bond start to form.

He'd at least try to win you over the natural way, however he'd get too eager, unable to keep himself away for too long.

🐺Zenith — would they ever break their darling?

He'd never dim his star, your brightness is the reason to keep living! not only that, but breaking his darling would affect him as well, the imprint bond having influence over him.

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Research

Finally wrote something again! Sorry it took so long. 

How exactly do you get a dog to lose your scent? Because avoiding your werewolf boyfriend Embry was proving a lot harder than you had anticipated. Last weekend was… eventful. You guys had finally done it. Gone all the way. After 6 months of dating and an imprint bond, you both finally decided you were ready to take that next step. And you’ve only had one thought since that night. 

That shit hurted. 

It was borderline unbearable. The pain was searing. You lied there until Embry was done, faking moans and even faking the Big O, and you were less than eager to do it again. Were you broken? He seemed to enjoy it, so obviously you were to blame. He’d been super clingy and lovey since that night, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have the heart to be around him knowing you had faked it like that. What if he found out? He’d be crushed. What if he wanted to do it again? You couldn’t take that pain another night. What if he faked it too and was going to break up with you the next time he saw you? Yeah, no. Avoidance was the way to go. 

He wanted to take you out to see a movie. You mysteriously came down with a case of allergies in the middle of winter. 

He wanted to pick you up after school and give you a ride home. You had the sudden urge to join a club that was meeting after school that day. 

He called, your phone was on silent. 

He texted, you suddenly became illiterate. 

But he kept trying. God, why was he making this so difficult?! Thoughts like this swirled through your head as you walked the long way home from school. He knew your usual route, so obviously that was out of the question. You took a path through the woods that would eventually spit you out right by the beach where you could sit and think. The forest had always felt like a second home to you. Peaceful, comfortable, private. You walked for some time before hearing twigs snapping in the distance. Probably a rabbit or something. Louder snapping. Bigger sticks. Definitely not a rabbit. You halted, waiting for the creature to pass, when a large gray wolf stalked out of the trees. 

Damn. 

He was wearing the softest, cutest, most “kicked puppy” look on his face that you had ever seen. Head bowed, he walked up to you slowly, whining. So he had noticed your avoidance. You held your hand out to him, petting the thick fur between his ears. He sniffed your hand, giving it a soft lick. 

“Hi,” you whispered. He whined louder at this. “Embry…” you started, before he crouched down, a silent cue for you to get on his back. He waited. 

Guess this was inevitable. And at least him showing up in wolf form gave you some time to think about how exactly you would explain what had happened. With another soft sigh, you climbed up on his back, holding the fur tightly as he trotted off into the trees. After about 5 minutes, you realized that he was taking you to Sam and Emily’s house. You weren’t in the mood to be around the rest of the pack right now. 

“Embry, I’m kind of busy today. I don’t really have time to hang out with the pack.” 

He ignored you, trotting along as if your statement was the buzz of a mosquito in his ear. When you reached the house, however, you quickly realized that no one else was there. They must all be out. It was a Friday afternoon, after all. 

When you reached the lawn, Embry stopped and crouched once more so you could dismount. When you did, he ran off behind the house, walking back out several minutes later as the inky-haired boy you had grown to love. His face was full of sadness, yours full of anxiety. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. 

You silently followed him down the path that led to the cliffs, waiting for him to say something else. He never did, only kept walking. You struggled to keep up, but were too stubborn in your silence to ask him to slow down. You both finally reached the rocky cliffs jutting out over the frigid ocean. He stopped, staring out at the horizon. You paused next to him, waiting. After another several minutes of silence, you grew impatient. 

“It’s supposed to snow Monday,” you said. 

You waited. Silence. 

“The news said they might even cancel school.” 

A pause. Nothing. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a three day weeken-”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he cut you off, seeming agitated. For as long as you’d known Embry, he was never in a bad mood. Never anything but happy. Maybe sad on a few occasions, but never angry. Never frustrated. And it was making you nervous. 

And now it was your turn to be silent. Yes! You wanted to say. You hurt me! But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He didn’t do it on purpose, so why would you make him feel guilty about something that was your problem and your problem alone? 

“Because, if I’m counting correctly, it’s been 5 days since I’ve so much as heard from you. Barely a text back. Not a call, not a ‘hey! I’m super busy this week.’ Why are you avoiding me? I thought… after last weekend, we should be more in love than ever right?! Did it not mean anything to you?” 

You remained quiet, tears pooling in your eyes. You gave no sign that you were going to respond, so he kept going. 

“Just tell me where your fucking head is at, Y/N. You can’t keep brushing me off like this. Did I do something wrong? Do you regret what we did? Am I, like… not ripped enough for you or something?” 

“Embry, no,” you pleaded. You could see the insecurity behind his eyes. You had to tell him what was going on, but you knew it would crush him. “It’s not that at all.” 

He waited. “Then what?” 

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your face. You wiped it away quickly before taking a deep breath. “I have been avoiding you.” You looked up at his face at this, finding tears building up in his own eyes. “I love you, Embry. But last weekend, just… I can’t do that again.” 

He clenched his jaw, looking anywhere but your face and nodded. He was hurt. You definitely could have worded that better. 

“Let me explain,” you pleaded. He wouldn’t look at you still, but didn’t walk away, so you kept going. “I think I might be broken or something, because that… It didn’t feel right.” 

At this, he looked back at your face, switching from hurt to concerned almost immediately. 

“Why would you think you’re broken?” 

Another pause. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose…”

“You were in pain?” he panicked, fresh tears pricking in his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault,” you hurried. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? Why would you let me keep going?!” 

“I’m sorry!” you cried, causing him to walk up and embrace you. You sobbed into his chest as he pet your hair, all signs of anger gone. “You were having a good time, and I didn’t wanna ruin it, but it hurt so bad…” 

“Shhhhh,” he cooed as he rocked you from side to side, letting you calm down. “It’s okay.” 

After several minutes, you finally stopped crying. He didn’t falter in his embrace, only left light kisses on your forehead and cheek. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“It’s not your fault,” you replied. 

“Yes, it is. I’m supposed to take care of you. It was my job to make you feel good, and you were hurting that bad and I didn’t even notice.” You sniffled, just enjoying being in his arms. A few more minutes passed as you both calmed down. 

“To be fair, I did take a drama class last semester. I’d say I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you added weakly, an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He huffed a laugh, if for no other reason than to make you feel better. “Had me fooled,” he added. 

You smiled, looking up at him. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.” 

“It’s okay. I just wish you would have told me as soon as it started to hurt that you wanted to stop.” 

“I know. I should have, I just got all in my head about it.” 

“And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never forgive myself, and I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he answered, nervously awaiting your response. 

“I forgive you. And of course I still want to be with you, Embry. I love you. We just need to work on our communication skills a little bit,” you laughed. 

“We do. And I’ll start. I would really love another chance to make you feel good. If you promise to be honest about how you’re feeling, I know I can do a way better job. But I understand completely if you wanna wait a while… or if you never wanna do it again. You’re in charge here.” 

His words had your heart melting. He really did care about you, and you knew that if you had told him in the moment that you were in pain, he would have done anything to get you feeling good. You were always his first priority. 

“I’d be willing to try again, but what we did last time didn’t work. I think we need to think of some new techniques or something,” you mumbled shyly. 

“Tell you what. I’ll do some research, get some stuff, and you can come over tonight… if you want to. And we can maybe try again? And if you get there and aren’t feeling up to it, we can just watch a movie and cuddle. No pressure… I just miss you.” 

You thought for a second. Worst case scenario, you’d cuddle on the couch and eat junk food. You trusted Embry completely, and if you said stop, you knew he would. 

“Okay,” you replied. 

__________________________________

After a long shower, some fresh makeup, and a cute-yet-comfortable outfit, you were ready to go over to Embry’s. Sure, the nerves were kicking in, but you trusted him when he said he would do some research. When you pulled up, he was already standing in the doorway smiling. You ran out and gave him a giant bear hug (or wolf hug), and he picked you up and carried you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot. 

“I missed you,” he said, face buried in your hair. 

“You saw me like 3 hours ago,” you giggled in response. 

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you all week! Gotta get my Y/N fill or I might die!” 

You laughed loudly, hands threading up into his hair as he sat down on the bed with you seated in his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, just try not to crowd me,” you cheekily replied. 

He raised an eyebrow before tackling you back onto the bed, tickling you like a maniac and placing playful kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Like this?! Don’t crowd you like this?” 

“Embry stop!” you laughed, trying to suck in a breath between his manic tickles. When he finally stopped, he was lying between your legs, one hand grasping both your wrists above your head, the other propped beside you so as to not crush you. He stared lovingly at your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. His grip on your arms loosened, as if to say You can stop me anytime, but you didn’t. You kissed him back, arms staying in place to tell him that you were okay. 

The kisses grew slightly more heated, but Embry kept them gentle. And every time you thought he was about to take things to the next step, he’d just kiss you some more. You were growing slightly impatient, breath labored and blood pumping fast. Your stomach became slightly warm, and every time you leaned up, he’d pull away. 

“You’re being mean,” you whimpered. 

He just looked at you and smirked before leaning down and capturing your lips once more. You could feel your blood heat in every part of your body. From your head to your toes, you felt warm and fuzzy, yet desperate for more,,, more touch, more pressure, more Embry. Growing frustrated, you hooked your legs around his waist and tried your best to pull him closer, unintentionally grinding your hips into his. When he brushed up against your core, you let out an involuntary sigh. It actually felt nice. He smiled into the kiss, pulling his lips away from yours and dragging them down to your jaw, and then your neck, suckling and sucking and leaving light red marks that made your head spin. The hand that was holding your wrists came down behind your back and up into your hair, firmly pulling your head back to give him better access to your neck. 

This movement made your entire back arch up into his body. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, lips sucking your skin up into his mouth as he nibbled, before soothing with his tongue. Your toes curled, legs pulling him impossibly closer. When he felt this, he ground his hips down into yours. The combination of his hands, lips, and weight on top of you made you let out a gasp. Your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, pulling his shirt up in an attempt to take it off. He got the hint and sat up to remove it, being away from your body for far too long for your taste. He didn’t lower fully back down, however, instead sliding his warm hands under your shirt and onto your stomach. You sat up, taking your sweatshirt off and throwing it violently across the room. His eyes widened as they looked down at your bare chest in an almost feral fashion. He gripped your thighs, tugging you down the bed with ease, and resuming his position on top of you, hands roaming all over your torso. He cupped your breasts gently, rolling your nipples softly between his fingers. You shut your eyes and threw your head back, enjoying the sensations. His kisses trailed from your neck and down to your chest, softly. Lovingly. When he reached your nipples, his tongue poked out and licked around each of them, before taking them into his mouth and sucking. His hands continued to caress your back, and he took his sweet time switching from one breast to the other, and back again, until he felt your skin grow almost as hot as his. You were writhing underneath him, panting as your mind tried to comprehend the sensations. And his mouth, God it was so warm. You felt him kiss the undersides of your breasts, and then your stomach, and then lower… 

When he reached the waistband of your leggings, he brought his hands up as if to pull them off of you. He stopped, looking up at you for permission. You gave a lazy nod Yes, and lifted your hips to help him. He pulled your underwear off as well, spreading your legs and almost salivating at the sight of your soaking pussy. Not wanting to waste another second, he once again began placing kisses on your lower stomach, and then down to your hip bones, scraping his teeth lightly against the skin, which had you shuddering. He trailed lower, to where your thighs met your core, and began to suck lightly and the soft skin there. Your clit was throbbing by now, desperate for any sort of attention. You thrust your hips up, desperate for his mouth on the place you needed him, but he only pulled your legs over his shoulders and brought his arms across your stomach to hold you in place. Your hands went to his hair in an effort to control any aspect of this situation, but the boy was strong. He teased and teased and teased, until you thought you might very well crawl out of your own skin if he didn’t properly touch you soon. Embry brought his face right up to your center and licked into your entrance, making your toes curl once more. His hands gripped your hips as he brought you as far onto his tongue as he could, nose not quite brushing where you still needed him. 

“Embry…” you whimpered, about to tell him what you needed. 

“I know, baby. I got you,” he spoke, as he finally brought his warm tongue to lick a firm stripe up to your clit, swirling it around and sucking the swollen nub into his mouth. 

You let out a moan. A real one. Your first real one. And it only encouraged Embry, as he began to suck and lick with a steady rhythm that caused your legs to shake. You felt your stomach start to coil after several minutes of this, hands fisting Embry’s hair even tighter. It felt amazing, but that coil wouldn’t snap. He started to notice you coming down slightly, orgasm fading away, when he brought his index finger into your mouth. You sucked on instinct, before he pulled it out and brought it down to your entrance. He swirled the digit around a few times and began to push in slowly. One knuckle. Then two. And then he was fully in you. Sucking your clit into his mouth yet again, he rubbed his finger up into your front wall, massaging the ridges there. 

“Oh… Embry, oh my God,” you moaned. He used more pressure, and then brought his finger out and added another, slowly pushing them in together and resuming the ‘come-hither’ motion. You felt your muscles shake, losing all control, and the coil in your stomach tightened rapidly once again, only this time, it broke. Your back arched, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream as you came hard. Waves of pleasure drove through you, hands holding his head firmly onto your center. When you came down and opened your eyes, you looked down at his face to see an excited grin. 

“If you tell me that was fake, I think I’ll cry,” he chirped. 

You calmed your hard breathing enough to mutter a “That was real.” 

“Do you wanna keep going?” he asked. 

You nodded, taking note of the obvious tent in his shorts. You reached a hand down to grasp him, when he grabbed your wrist and said “Nuh-uh, I’m still making it up to you.” 

He stood up off the bed and went over to a plastic shopping bag on his desk. He opened it and pulled out a condom, some lube, and a small pink toy. Your eyes widened, and he cockily stated, “told you I’d do some research. Come here Sweetheart.” He held a hand out to help you up, and moved you so that you were on your hands and knees, bum facing him as he stood at the edge of the bed. He tore the condom packet open with his teeth and rolled it on, and then opened the bottle of lube and slathered it all over himself. He then brought what was left on his hand up to your sensitive core, distributing the substance gently. Throwing the bottle onto the floor, he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“You sure you wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded in response. “I need you to say it, babe.” 

“Yes, I want to keep going, Em,” you almost cried. 

“Okay, but I need you to tell me if it hurts even a little. Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

He grasped your hip with one hand, guiding himself in with the other. Slowly, carefully, he became fully seated inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. You felt no pain, just a delicious stretch inside your walls. When Embry saw that you were relaxed, he pulled himself out a couple of inches and softly thrusted back in, looking for any signs of discomfort. He found none, and continued. He dragged himself in and out of you at a torturous pace that made your breathing pick up yet again. You needed more. You began rocking yourself back onto him, begging for a faster pace, and he complied. He pulled out several inches more this time, shoving back in at a quicker pace that had your toes curling and your moans going up in pitch. At this, he stopped holding back. Embry began pounding into you, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave the good kind of bruise. You were moaning loudly, brain turning to mush. This is what sex was supposed to be like. What you’d always imagined it would be like. Passionate, loving, amazing. 

Embry found himself reaching the edge, but would not allow himself to finish before you. He reached down onto the bed for the small pink toy that you had forgotten about. He flicked it on, brought his other hand down and around your throat to pull you up against him, and held the small vibrator right onto your clit. The pounding pressure of his dick paired with the fervent vibrations had you seeing stars. You came. Hard. You didn’t know how long the orgasm had lasted. When you came to, you were lying on your back on the bed, breathing still labored, as Embry cleaned your thighs off with a damp towel. He noticed you looking up at him. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he cooed.

“Hey,” you responded weakly. 

“How ya doing?” 

“Really good,” you laughed. 

“Yeah?” he beamed at you as you nodded in response. “Good. I’m gonna get you some water and then we can cuddle, okay?” You only smiled in contentment as he walked off into the hallway, returning shortly with a cup of cold water. “Sit up for me?” 

“Can’t,” you answered, eliciting a laugh from him. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he spoke as he gently held the back of your head, supporting you as you leaned up to drink from the cup he was holding up to your mouth. After you took a few sips, he seemed satisfied and placed the cup on the floor, lying down next to you and pulling you close. “If you start ignoring me after that, I might have to kill you,” he teased. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever ignore you again.” You sighed in contentment, listening to Embry’s soothing heartbeat, before you began to wonder. “By the way, what the heck kind of research did you do?” 

He huffed a laugh before responding, “Some guy on the internet called Owen Grey.” 

[earnestly-endlessly]

hello! do you have any fics where charles meets edie/erik's family for the first time?

Hi anon. I have plenty of fics where Charles meets Edie and/or Erik's family. I hope you enjoy!!!

Charles Meets Edie/Erik’s family for the first time

In the Bleak Midwinter – keire_ke

Summary: It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

A Road Trip to Pennsylvania - Aainiouu

Summary: For a year Charles has nurtured the biggest and most embarrassing crush known to man towards Erik. They are friends and roommates and when Erik asks Charles to accompany him to home on Thanksgiving of course Charles goes.

Fools and Their Mamas – LoveSupreme

Summary: Charles FINALLY gets to meet Erik's mother in person! Sure she doesn't know any English (besides knowing when Erik is cursing and thus requiring a good smack) and sure Charles doesn't have a great history when it comes to mothers, but Erik is sure everything will be stupendous, when he has brain power left over from trying to find a way to ask Charles to move to the Lensherr estate.

A Nice Boy (The Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

First Impressions – Ook

Summary: The first time Erik Lensherr, CEO of Eisenhardt Enterprises, met Charles Xavier he might just have called him a homeless drop out and accused him of being a junkie, before realising he was a waiter. He almost apologised.

The second time Erik Lensherr met Charles Xavier, he was volunteering at the soup kitchen, and Erik definitely (In Charles's opinion) accused him of being a thoughtless freeloader and slacker. He did apologise. Eventually.

The third time Erik met Charles, he hit him with his car. This was definitely not on purpose. Erik didn't actually ever say he was sorry, but he did end up taking Charles home with him, that time.

Food, Family, and Friends with Benefits – endingthemes

Summary: “Everyone,” Edie says, voice bursting with pride. “Erik’s here, and he’s brought his friend.” She takes Charles’ arm and pulls him forward, presenting him like a shiny object. “This is Charles.”

Charles manages a weak wave and an even weaker, “Hello.”

(In which Charles gets dragged along to his fuck buddy's parent's house to celebrate a Jewish holiday, and things get weird.)

Impulse Decisions – listerinezero

Summary: Erik wakes up in Las Vegas with a hell of a hangover, a telepath in his bed, and a ring on his finger. Now what?

Look Up, You’re Standing Next To Me, What A Feeling – luninosity

Summary: Charles, when uncertain, buries the uncertainty beneath extra certainty about everything else, which reads an awful lot like arrogance to anyone who doesn’t know better. Erik does know better. His mother doesn’t.

I ♥ NY (It’s My Friends I’m Not Sure Of) – oddegg

Summary: Erik is a single, successful man who likes quick sex with no strings attached. Then, he meets college professor Charles and it's love at first sight, at least for him. Charles, who heard of Erik's notorious ways, wants nothing to do with him besides being friends. Cue Erik bending over backwards to steal Charles' heart.

Series

Mutually Beneficial Transaction – Pookaseraph

Summary: In his sophomore year at Columbia University, Erik, feeling slowly strangled by his mounting college debt, places an add on a sugar daddies website. He doesn't know exactly what to expect from it, but when he's contacted by a man named Charles who seems less creepy than the other people who have responded to his profile, he decides to give it a shot. Charles is nothing like what he expected, and Erik finds himself slowly falling in love with his sugar daddy while trying to find out exactly what caused this amazing guy to buy his emotional and sexual intimacy when he clearly deserves so much more than that.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Miss Missing You – WaxRhapsodic

Summary: In his head he knew it was unfair to compare Charles and Magda, but he couldn’t help the giddiness he felt around Charles. Erik had never felt this way about anyone before, and he relished the live wire of emotion coiled in his chest.

or

Erik and Magda are separated when he meets a charming young professor out on the town.

Soul of my soul – ikeracity

Summary: You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

Heart of my heart – pinkoptics

Summary: You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Of course, imprinting on the guardian of one of your grade one students isn’t ideal.

Then again, when has Erik’s life ever been ideal?

Love Over Challah – sebastian2017

Summary: As his first Shabbat alone with David approaches, Charles realizes he's overlooked one important detail: he's not actually sure how to have a Shabbat dinner. Thankfully, he meets Edie Lehnsherr, who just so happens to be having dinner with her son and grandchildren that very Friday and would love to have Charles and David over to celebrate the Shabbat with.

or

Charles and Erik meet while celebrating the Shabbat and bond over mutant activism and their adorable children.

When, how, and because we do – aesc, pearl_o

Summary: Erik brings Charles home to meet his mother. AU of Tough little baby telepath.

And your smile, oh darling, your smile – lavenderlotion

Summary: Charles turned back around to find Mrs. Lehnsherr still standing in the doorway, watching them with a smile and some very warm thoughts that made Charles feel very soft in his chest, right by his heart. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Lehnsherr. It's very, very nice," Charles told her seriously, meaning every word and hoping that Mrs. Lehnsherr would believe him and not think him just terrible for the way that he had first thought the house too small.

Hearts and Bones – pocky_slash

Summary: Modern, non-powered AU. An impending visit with Erik's parents leaves Charles anxious and Erik unsure how to proceed.

Good manners (will get you far) – ximeria

Summary: Charles had been looking forward to the performance at the Met for ages. Little did he know, things would not go according to plan.

The Gift of the Magi, But Screw it Up – librata

Summary: He doesn't know if he's buying too much, too little, or even the right things at all, because he's never entertained a guest as important as Edie Lehnsherr.

‘How to Parent’ by Edie Lehnsherr – SprinkleofSunshine

Summary: Edie prided herself on being a good mother. The best mother even. After all, she had several mugs in her cupboards declaring that truth gifted by her two children over the years. However, something is going on with her son, Erik, and it's her duty to find out what....

Defying Expectations – Baamon5evr

Summary: Charles and Erik meet each other’s family. Neither of them gets what they expect.

Meeting the Parents – melonbutterfly

Summary: Erik takes Charles home to introduce him to his family.

Charles Does Not Buy a Shamwow – magneto

Summary: Charles and Erik are spending the first few days of their university's winter break alone at Erik's mother's house. Then, Erik's mother decides to come home early unannounced... while Erik and Charles are naked on the living room couch.

[byrachel]

JACOB BLACK CURSED FATE

Word count: 2512

Summary: In an attempt to fix their relationship, everything falls apart

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, emotional cheating, jealousy, unhealthy relationship

note: Thank you @tyb1 for giving me an amazing idea to experiment with. This was also loosely inspired by this imagine by @imaginingmanyfandoms (with their permission!) Please check both of them out!

You swatted away the lingering fly, which had been testing your patience the whole day, from the freshly set table. You didn’t want anything ruining your mood that day and if you had the same accuracy your boyfriend had when it came to killing flies, it would’ve been smashed against one of your counters the second you had seen it flying around. Losing the buzzing creature from your sight, you stepped away from your kitchen table to take in the view. Perfect, you thought with a satisfied smile, quietly praising yourself. 

After months of barely seeing your boyfriend and living with each other like you were roommates, you found it was time to find that spark you once felt by having his favorite meal and desert. You wanted to create a comfortable scenery to discuss your concerns with Jacob and was more than positive about the outcome. He was always willing to listen and  work on himself together with you when it came to problems you were having. 

With a lighthearted sigh you grabbed your phone from the edge of the table. Your notification centre showed a few unimportant emails waiting to be deleted from your inbox, instead of the text you were waiting for. You looked at the time above the notifications. 7:23 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be home for a while and him not responding to your texts probably meant patrolling just took longer. You pushed down that icky feeling at the pit of your stomach and decided to dress up with the time you still had. You didn’t want to wear anything over the top in your own kitchen, but something cute enough for Jacob to see you were trying to look nice for him.

Taking your time to take a shower, do your hair and put together an outfit you were pleased with, you were expecting Jacob to walk into your home at any given moment then, but even when you returned to the kitchen there was still no sign of him. This time you looked up at the analog clock hanging from one of your kitchen walls. 8:41 pm. 

With a forced smile you tried to contain the excitement you had been feeling the whole day as you got a pack of lucifers to light the candle in the middle of the table. Once the candle held onto the flame, you looked over your shoulder at the food on the stove while you waved with the lucifer in your hand, before it had the chance to burn all the way down to your fingers. You wanted Jacob to come home to a prepared plate but the moment you heard the fly buzzing around your living room you stopped yourself. You weren’t in the mood to keep that thing away from the food so you were just going to wait until he got home. 

You sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing your phone once again. Maybe he responded. Lightly tapping your screen, your notification centre popped up, but there still was no text. Out of curiosity you checked your messages, going into your conversation with Jacob. 

‘You still going to be home by 8:30?’

You sighed looking at the delivered stamp underneath your text, but decided to give him more time. He was barely ten minutes late and it wasn’t unusual with the recent supernatural activity in the area so you just had to keep your excitement at bay a little longer. 

Time ticked by slowly, ten minutes turning into thirty, half an hour turning into an hour as you impatiently bounced on your legs, soft thumbs filling the silent kitchen. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, looking down at the game on your phone to kill time, but with each passing second your worries were starting to grow excessively.

When the clock hit 10:30 pm you decided to call him, the phone icon next to his caller id waiting to be pressed by your hovering thumb. But before you could put your phone up to your ear, your call went straight to his voicemail. Your heart jumped, your sudden rising heartbeat ringing in your ears from worry.

His phone has never been turned off before. Why is his phone turned off? 

You exhaled audibly, automatically going to your contacts to find Quil’s number while you nibbled on your thumbnail. If your memory didn’t do you wrong, you were almost certain they were patrolling together. He would know where Jacob was. Again, you tapped on the phone icon as your hand rested against your neck, feeling your rapid heartbeat. 

You looked up at the ceiling, briefly closing your eyes as you forced yourself to stay calm. In and out, you told yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply to keep yourself from having gruesome intrusive thoughts of things that could’ve gone wrong while you impatiently waited for your boyfriend’s best friend to pick up his phone.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s up?” Quil’s neutral voice sent you into relaxation, your eyes shooting open and bending your head back down to its original state. His calm tone was enough to let you know nothing happened on their patrol. 

“Hey, Quil.” Your voice was slightly shaken up from the brief panic, but hoping he wouldn’t notice you tried to make it less obvious. “I’m looking for Jake, is he with you?”

“Not anymore.” He answered. “Lin called him earlier. I’m guessing something happened, because Jake left right after, but he didn’t say what though.” 

Lin. Of course he was with Lin. 

The itch you were trying to keep down suddenly became uncontrollable. The anger, resentment and hurt you thought you had pushed down months ago bubbled up without a warning, making you bite your tongue to keep your composure towards Quil. As far as you knew he didn’t know about the arguments and fights she had caused in your relationship, how many times you threatened to leave Jacob because of her presence and how many nights you had banned Jacob from your bedroom so you could silently cry into your pillow, knowing he was listening to the pathetic muffled sobs from the couch in the living room. 

“(Y/N)?” A different voice called out from the living room as you heard the click of the closing front door. “I’m home.” 

“Thanks, Quil.” You said, snapping out of your silent rage, remembering your boyfriend’s best friend was at the other side of the line. “He actually just came home.” 

“Anytime.” Quil responded unknowing of what he had just caused, before you exchanged goodbyes with him and hung up the phone. You slowly placed it back down on the table and shook your head in disbelief, pushing yourself away from the kitchen counter to meet Jacob in the living room.

“Hey, what did you make?” Your clueless boyfriend commented, briefly turning his head over his shoulder to watch you stand in the kitchen’s doorway, his back turned to you as he put his jacket away. “It smells good.” 

“Where were you, Jacob?” Your voice was icingly calm as you ignored his question, his name feeling foreign in your mouth. It was always Jake, not Jacob so using his full name for the first time in months made sure he knew how badly he had fucked up. You knew where he had been and that simple question was enough to let him know there was no use in lying. 

It was like he freezed up for a split second before he turned to face you, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You didn’t know why you were even giving him the room to answer, there was no way he could talk himself out of this. His mouth was agape, his lips moving slightly but there were no words coming out. 

“Spit it out. Where were you?” You repeated, your voice slightly raising this time. 

“Babe, I can explain--” 

“Explain?” You interrupted him as a humourless chuckle fell from your lips. You softly pinched the skin between your eyebrows, your eyes fluttering closed. Your patience was thin, your head full of different voices telling you what to do in your rage, but you weren’t sure what voice to give in to. “Explain what? That you basically ditched me to be with Lin when I explicitly told you I wanted to have one night, just one night, to have your undivided attention.” 

 “I know I messed up, but you know I wouldn’t do it without a well enough reason.” Jake sounded distraught and without looking up you could tell he was panicking. “Just hear me out, okay?”

You pulled your hand away from your face, opening your eyes to look at the man who was suddenly standing much closer than he was before in an attempt to close the space between you. If he came any closer you were sure you would’ve backed away, but he knew better than to try to touch you when you were livid. It was a mistake he made before, but surely wouldn’t do again. 

“She needed someone to talk to.” He started off, making you scoff. It was something you heard a dozen times before. “This is the first time she has been without her daughter for this long and it’s just hard on her.” 

“It still surprises me you don’t see what she’s doing. She has enough friends to call. She’s using you, Jacob. Using you.” You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and used your hands to emphasize your point. “She only has to breathe differently and you’re there, she just likes the attention you’re giving her, because no one else will.” 

“I don’t think she’s using me.” Jacob disagreed with a sigh. “But I also know you wouldn’t get me giving into it. As much I know you hate it, I have to be there for her, (Y/N). We’ve talked about the imprinting, it’s not a choice.” 

Was he seriously defending what she was doing? 

“And we’ve also talked about boundaries.” You snarled back at him. “You can be there for her without ignoring our relationship. You promised me we would come first no matter who your imprint was going to be.”

He nodded in agreement. “And we still come first, but like I said I also have to be there for her when she needs me. She might not be my top priority, but I can’t ignore Lin’s needs either, that’s just the bond.” 

“Just the bond.” You repeated with a chuckle, your eyes prickling with tears as the sudden realization seeped in. 

Nothing was more important to him than that damned forced bond and the longer you listened to him the clearer it became. You hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but looking back you couldn’t believe how stupid you were for believing the words of a man who hadn’t experienced something so intense before. ‘I don’t care who she is, you’re the one for me’ was what he said when you finally communicated your worries weeks after he had imprinted on her. You wished you had listened to the insecurity lingering at the back of your head when you had seen the relationships between Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim and every other pack member who had ended up with their imprint.

Why would I be naïve enough to think it would be any different for Jacob when he finally imprinted on someone? 

“Baby, don’t cry.” He finally tried to narrow the space between your bodies to comfort you, but as you snapped out of your thoughts you flinched away from him. His comfort was the last thing you wanted.

Just then his words registered and you noticed the tears staining your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. “You don’t even see you’re in love with her, do you?” You looked up at his pained expression. You might don’t like being touched when you were mad, but you had never backed away from him when you were crying before.

“I’m not, I swear.” He answered hurriedly.

“You’re lying to yourself.” You shook your head, wiping your nose with your hand. “You dropped everything to be there for her when I needed you here. Again.”

Without waiting for a response, you were headed to your shared bedroom, Jacob’s footsteps closely behind you. You wanted to get away from him as far as possible, there was no way you were staying in the same house together. You didn’t feel like suffocating on your own again.

“Baby, (Y/N).” Jacob called out to you, hopelessly following you as you marched into your shared bedroom, diving straight into your closet to grab a suitcase. “What are you doing?”

You placed it on the bed, zipping it open as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your sight. When you turned back to your closet to grab a bunch of clothes, not even thinking of all the things you actually needed if you were going to stay away for a while, Jacob finally managed to get his hands on you. He held your wrists, not tight enough to hurt you, but with just enough force to keep you from moving. “Hey, don’t go, okay? Please. I want to fix this.” 

“How? It’s not a choice, remember?” You avoided his gaze, looking down at the floor. Your body was trembling from the anxiety and all the mixed emotions coming out were making you sick to your stomach. You truly felt like throwing up.  “How did you even want to start a family with me if I can’t even be your first choice, hm? I’m not putting my child through that.”

“(Y/N), don’t tell me. . .” Jacob’s eyes widened. When you told him you wanted to talk this morning he could tell you were excited, but he brushed it off like the idiot he was. All the signs were there and when it fell silent for a moment, he finally understood why tonight was so important to you.

 “I’m pregnant.” You felt your arms slipping from his grip as you looked up at his blank expression. You pulled your hands away to dry the tears dripping from your face. “And I wanted to do things differently for our baby than our parents did, I wanted them to grow up with both of us there.”

“And they will.” His glinstering eyes and watery smile stared at you as he brought his hands up to your cheeks, softly caressing the sides of your face with his thumbs and placing his forehead against yours. You let him.  “Just let me fix this. I’ll do anything for you-- both of you.”

As much as you wanted to believe what he said, you knew it was only a matter of time before he went running to Lin when she needed him again. He could treat you badly all he wanted, but you refused to let your child grow up feeling unwanted the way you did. 

“No.” You whispered back to him, pulling your face away from his grip. “I’m done.” 

masterlist | not edited 

note: If you can’t tell I’m bad at endings and writing angst, but I hope you enjoyed it either way. Please let me know what you think so I know how I could improve or if you liked it!

[erodasghosts]

memories & misconceptions | harry styles

chapter one: right where you left me.

↳ read Thea’s version (tom holland fic) by @peeterparkr

story summary: After Harry left with unexplained reasoning, and you lost two of your friends to even greater unknown motives, there was no way of knowing how you might react when deciding to go back into that environment where it all started. Back to that reminder of your beginning with Harry, and back to the memory of a simpler childhood and a closer bond.

chapter summary: breakups happen everyday, so why should you lose it? after having a falling out with nearly all of your childhood friends, you found yourself back home, where everybody moved on. still sitting in a corner you haunt, you weren’t sure what to expect out of this reunion. might it pull you into a brighter light? or will it only leave you deeper in the shadows of your past?

warnings: none?

word count: ~12k

a/n: it’s,,, a long chapter but i hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think :)

series masterlist

prologue

masterlist

“Fuck.” You took in a deep breath, clutching your chest as it seemed to tighten. 

Your eyes flickered anxiously around the small café, waiting for Harry to walk in. What would he be wearing? Would he look a mess, hair disheveled, clothes seemingly worn? Would you be able to read a lack of sleep on his face? Would a look of dysphoria be glossed over his eyes? You actually figured that he wouldn’t seem like any of those things in the slightest, he would probably look much more kept together, and likely unbothered.

Out of the two of you, you would be the one to look a mess, surely. But maybe he would surprise you, because you managed to convince yourself that he had been broken-hearted too. Surely he had also spent hours questioning what went wrong in the relationship, wondering if it ever could’ve been saved. Surely he had regrets just as you did, though some you didn’t understand. 

Did any of it ever matter to him? It had all mattered to you, much more than you would ever admit to him. The both of you were far too prideful. How could you admit to something so disconcerting with the risk that he had never felt the same? You wouldn’t be caught wasting time on something he had never even batted an eye about.

The cafe door swung open, pulling your attention to it once more. You sank down into your chair a bit upon seeing a small red-headed woman coming in, feeling a sense of relief wash over when you had realized it wasn’t Harry. Relief? It was odd, but you had felt incredibly nervous yet desirous at the same time. You hadn’t seen him in over a month, and you had, in truth, missed him.

You had also missed the café, Nana’s café, which made you question how much you actually missed him. Your mind had been spiraling nonstop for weeks at this point, ever since Harry had called off the engagement. But you were thankful that, in some way, the café still had such a calming environment.

Of course, the engagement. The entire reason you were there to meet him. You had nearly forgotten, so caught up in the anxiousness of seeing him again. It wasn’t exactly something you wished to dwell on for too long.You would avoid it longer, for as long as you could. 

Looking around the café another time, in hopes that the calm environment could be effective for you even now, you felt a new worry washing over your mind.

You hadn’t been home in a few months, since you had moved to London with a group of friends from school a few years back. It was meant to be a monumental shift for all of you. For you, for Harry, for Tom and Andrew. But it was wrong from the start, feeling an immediate disconnection from all expectations and even the reality of how things had once been.

Dorothea, your closest friend you had known as Thea, hadn’t been able to join the rest of you, which was something you had long ago pinned to be part of the problem. And, though you would visit often and do what you could to stay in touch, it was never the same. It essentially felt like Thea had been the glue to the friend group, so when she was separated things slowly began to crumble. 

You had tried to understand where it started to go wrong for a while now, long before Harry had even left you, and long enough to have somewhat of an idea now. 

It had started with Dorothea, though she hadn’t left the group exactly, rather she had been left behind. Everyone else had gone off to London, whilst Thea had stayed behind. You remember her saying that she could never really leave, that she wasn’t truly meant to either. Thea’s parents had gotten divorced during your freshman year of secondary school, and you could tell that it had continued affecting her life, as much as she might continue to deny it.

You always saw the way she had put everyone around her above herself, it was clear to see that she wanted everyone else to be happy. That was a downfall for her, though. Always so wrapped up in pleasing the world around her that she often forgot to look out for herself. You were convinced it was why she had never gone to London. She had to stay, for her father, or to be with her soon to be husband Nicholas, or for whatever excuse seemed convenient enough. 

So, Thea never left. Which meant here you all were, back in Hawkshead for Thea’s wedding. It angered you in a way, to see her wasting so much of her time and energy on something and someone you thought she cared so little about. She was marrying Nicholas, which didn’t come as much of a surprise. They were high school sweethearts, and the town was just waiting for the day they would get married. Still, it was somewhat of a disappointment for you to see.

The second to leave had been Tom, bolting off practically the moment you had arrived in London. He had felt betrayed by Thea, despite the fact that everyone knew he had the blame placed on himself for what happened between the two of them. It was a shame, really, to see how their relationship unraveled so slowly over time. Tom had never had it in him to step forward and admit how he felt for Dorothea, and she had been just as avoidant as him. 

It was painful for you to watch, really. Being close to the both of them, you were stuck in the middle of a situation that had such a simple solution from your point of view. The situation couldn’t be helped, and you had all silently agreed that it never could’ve been for a number of reasons.

Tom, though keeping himself far from Thea, had still talked to the rest of you on occasion, remaining the closest to Harry. By now, ties with you had completely ended. It was something you saw coming, after his fight with Thea he became so angry with you, blaming you for how things turned out with her. He claimed that had you told him Thea had a crush on him, though you weren’t sure if she even had when he asked, that they would’ve ended up together and he wouldn’t have to go. He had said hurtful things to you over it, trying to push you away further. And though he was angry with you, you couldn’t help but make excuses for everything he was saying. Your friendship with him had meant too much. 

Tom and Harry stayed friends through it, though they had been friends before either of them became friends with you and Thea, and that was probably why they stayed close even now. They had a strange friendship, one you never truly understood regardless of how hard you tried to. At least they had each other still.

It was never confirmed that Tom stepping away from you started when he fought with Thea, but you and Harry always knew. He just needed one last reason to completely cut you off, and it hurt to think that he was just waiting for a reason but it seemed to be true considering he cut all ties with you entirely once you and Harry broke up. 

You didn’t really expect him to stay friends with you after your breakup with Harry, considering they had been best friends for so long, but you were curious as to how Harry described the break up to him. You wished that Harry told him the truth, though you knew it wasn’t likely since he couldn’t even tell you what it was. But you hoped, because you didn’t want Tom to see you as anymore of a villain than he already seemed to.

You thought if Tom knew the truth maybe he would side with you, anything to ease your guilt on the breakup. You and Tom were always able to understand one another in a way that the others hadn’t been able to, allowing you to become closer in some ways, so it felt like there was hope there.

There was relatability between the two of you when it came to your reserved feelings. You both just felt much more comfortable holding yourselves in, while every other person in the friend group tended to just let it all out, being much more expressive in the way they portrayed themselves to the world around them. Thea and Harry had always been the most outgoing in the group, but they both did still hide away whatever they didn’t want to be noticed by others.

Cool air brushed past your lips as you let out a deep breath, shaky hands resting on your lap. The café didn’t seem to be helping to calm your mind much. Taking another look around, your eyes stopped on the wall to your right, filled with pictures and newspaper clippings of different events that had taken place at the small café. 

You wondered if Nana had kept a particular one up, it didn’t seem likely that she would’ve still had it at this point. If anything, Thea had probably taken it down considering it was her grandmother’s café, she probably was tired of having to see it. Had Thea kept any of the pictures from before? You remembered her collection of them, holding on to every memory.

Surprisingly, you found the picture still on the wall, exactly where it had always been. It was of all of you, from years before. It was near the start of Tom and Harry’s band, Pandora’s Signs, long before they had gained any popularity outside of the small town. 

Thea was smiling brilliantly right beside Tom, who was brooding and trying his hardest not to crack a smile after Thea had just left an imprint of her lipstick on his cheek. Andrew was dying of laughter at the idiocy, a hand covering his mouth in an attempt to quiet his laughter, you could still hear it so clearly. Harry had his arm around your shoulders, slumping down to rest his head on yours with a cheesy smile as you proudly held out a tee shirt that you had designed for their new band, Pandora smiling down at a single hawkshead flower. 

That was the day you and Harry had shared your first kiss, and you had officially begun dating. You could nearly still feel the warm breeze from that day. It was such a warm memory, a gentle reminder of how things used to be. At least, for the most part it was warm. 

So much had changed, and now you had wished you could forget the memory of when you were last all together, having been more of a painful thought compared to the memory from the picture. 

Continuing with the trend of where things went wrong, after Tom, you had lost Harry, though not for some time after. Losing Harry had nearly been the least expected, and was definitely the most painful to go through. Losing all of them had all had their different categories of how they hurt, and you at least hadn’t lost Andrew, though now you had lost your closest friend, Thea.

If you were honest, you were a bit surprised that you had still been invited to Thea’s wedding. At the beginning, you were planned to be her maid of honour, but after you had your falling out with her the title had been given to Harry. The job of maid of honour could’ve gone to anyone else in the world and it would’ve stung less, but her choice of Harry seemed to tell you more than even your fight had said.

“You villainize me for not showing my emotions but it got a pass when you were incapable of showing your's to Tom?” 

Looking back on it you sometimes felt that it was a very selfish thing, but you had decided that it needed to be said. As much as a part of you would always miss Thea, there seemed to be a bigger part that refused to forgive her for what she had done. The thing that seemed to hurt most about it was that she hadn’t told you about Nana. 

You couldn’t believe that she hadn’t told you about Nana, and her reasoning for it seemed so weak. She acted as if there was never any point in telling you, saying that you wouldn’t have cared anyway. Nana was Thea’s grandmother, but she had meant the world to you as well all of your life. To hear that Nana was now sick through Andrew, who was still a very dear friend but not the same as Thea, was very upsetting for you to have to handle. 

And Thea acted as if you had done it to yourself. As if your own struggles with your emotions and ability to express them was reason enough to not tell you. How could she think you wouldn’t care about Nana? And not just Nana, but how Thea was handling Nana being sick. 

From that incident sprung more troubles with Thea. Having not told you about Nana was reason enough for you to be angry with her, but she had taken it a step further when interfering with your relationship with Harry. Had Thea never said a word to Harry, you wondered if you might still be with him now.

Blaming someone else for how things ended with Harry seemed so much easier than just accepting that he was gone, you still needed somewhere else to place your anger. It was still such a new occurrence, he had broken things off only two months before Thea’s wedding, leaving you in a hopelessness that you couldn’t begin to understand. That hopelessness only worsened in the days after he left, when you had that conversation with Thea. And after it all, Andrew had stayed by your side, the last of the friend group. 

You were glad to at least have Andrew. You had always been rather close, but you didn’t feel very deserving of him. It wasn’t unexpected that you would remain friends, but then again it had never seemed likely that you would lose everyone else either. But Andrew had stayed, and he had comforted you through losing Harry, he helped you come to terms with how things seemed to end with Thea too. But had things really even ended?

It was unbelievable, how quickly you always seemed to spiral into all of those worries. You were never sure of when it might happen, it made you feel like you had less and less control. And now, here you were practically asking for things to get increasingly worse for yourself.

Hadn’t it been bad enough to have your heart broken when Harry walked away, and now you were asking him to come back? You hadn’t a clue as to why you had asked him to, you knew it would likely end in failure. How could it not? The last time you saw him he had been so cruel. 

Because the last time you saw him, he had been rushing to pack his things, suddenly in such a hurry to get away. You recalled that he did all that he could to look anywhere but into your eyes before finally hardly even explaining why he was suddenly calling it all off. And you still remembered how desperate and exhausted he had sounded, as if he was annoyed that he even had to explain. So why would you want to walk back into that?

You bit your lip and checked the time for the sixth time, only to be disappointed that only a couple of minutes had passed since you last checked. This entire plan was insane, you had gone completely mental. See, you hadn’t typically found yourself to be so nervous, especially not when it came to being around Harry. But things had changed, they were different now. 

You hadn’t actually seen Harry much within the last months, which was becoming increasingly difficult to grow used to. It only felt as if each day was a step further from the chance of him ever returning. But at the same time, you feared the day of ever seeing him again. 

What more did you have to be afraid of? It was already over, there wasn’t much else he could say to hurt you now. And he was never one to continuously dig at people once things had begun to settle, why poke at an already gaping wound? No, he wouldn’t say anything more to hurt you, this was Harry. Harry would instead act as if nothing had happened, probably even attempt to pick up a conversation as if you had seen him just yesterday.

Which was worse, you couldn’t decide. No matter how he would act you knew that it would end in pain for yourself. But you had still been so curious about how he was doing, though Andrew had told you he wasn’t worth the energy or concern anymore. There were so many unanswered questions Harry had left you with, or questions that sprang late into your now restless nights as you replayed the breakup, trying your hardest to understand it.

You wanted to see him, you had decided that just days before. You were prepared for all of the possibilities of listlessness, because now you needed answers.

Still, when he finally came walking through the cafe door you could feel the knots in your stomach tightening. Suddenly it was becoming more and more of a reality for you, and your thoughts were now frozen rather than racing restlessly. 

As he walked in he seemed so casual, as if it was just another day for him. Your cheeks were burning, and you swore you could feel your throat going dry. 

He looked… good. Like he hadn’t been the slightest bit bothered, just as you had predicted. He looked the same as he had two months before. His usual button up shirt was lazily tucked into his pants, and you watched as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and glanced around for you.

Had he not even cared? About what he had done, about having lost you, about why he was even there? If he had, you would never know. He didn’t look as if he had lost even a single night of sleep, or like he had shed even one tear. But, appearances can be deceiving, and it was just one day of many. There was no real way of knowing how he had felt about any of it, which you knew but it was still shocking in its own way.

Harry could hold a grudge, and for far too long, but he didn’t let things get the best of him for long. But you thought this would be different, that maybe this time he’d be a bit more broken. But why would he be, he had been the one to leave you. And he had done that so coldly, almost immediately cutting himself off from you after. You didn’t understand what you had done, and you still didn’t really understand. 

You didn’t want him to be hurt, of course, not really. But the idea that he was perfectly fine stung, because what did that say about how he viewed his relationship with you? 

“Y/n,” he stepped closer, only a few feet away now.

Part of you was only regretting meeting up with him increasingly more. It seemed like a good idea to meet, an opportunity to talk again. Things had ended so abruptly, and you knew that you needed to talk to him again to have even a chance of moving on.

The last time you had spoken he left you in tears, and he had damaged your pride, though you had yet to admit such a thing. You tried to not let others see just how much it hurt you, but you weren’t nearly as good at it as Harry was.

There was a bit of anger rising in you too, thinking of the damage he had done yet he seemed to walk away without even a scratch. It hadn’t been fair. Yes, there was anger, but you mostly still felt so lost.

Harry pulled out the chair across from you, taking a seat and offering you a smile, “Hey.”

Hey? You weren’t sure how else you would prefer that he greeted you, but it felt so strange, almost cold. Yet he said it with a smile, giving off another confusing feeling. Was he happy to see you? How could he be—why would he be happy after everything that had happened?

“Hey,” you replied lamely, scolding yourself for your copied response.

You could sense the worry written all over your face, maybe that was why he offered a smile, to ease your mind. 

“How’ve you…” he licked his lips, glancing over you, “how are you?”

He had noticed the way you were wringing your hands, a habit you had often wanted to end because it so easily gave signs of your nerves. 

“I’m…” you took in a deep breath. You couldn’t say the truth, he probably wouldn’t even care anymore. “I’m fine, how’re you?”

“A’right, I suppose.”

Things had never felt so stiff between the two of you before, you weren’t sure what to say. It was as if everything you had wanted to tell him had now escaped your mind, or you had lost the nerve to say it. 

“Was there uh…” he raised his brows, “there a reason you wanted to meet?”

You had never needed a reason before, but now there was such a long list of reasons why. Him asking the question made him seem so ignorant, though. Of course you had reason, he had probably just expected you would never want to see him again though, and there was a part of you thinking you might’ve been better not seeing him again.

“Yes, I--” you sat your palms on the table, “I wanted to see you, to talk to you.” You tried to calm yourself down, at this point there was no going back. “We haven’t talked since…”

“Right,” he interrupted. 

Harry adjusted his posture, taking his sunglasses off his head and folding them. He hadn’t been ready to really hear that from you it seemed, you weren’t sure why when he had been the one to go.

That was the thing of it all. All through it, he had talked about it as if it was on you that the engagement had been called off, at least that was how you felt. He had been the one to take all of his things that night, deciding to never return. He hadn’t called, or even texted. He walked away, yet it was like he couldn’t talk about it. 

“Look, I…” you didn’t want to push him still. “You told me that it was... me, and I know you shouldn’t have had to hear that through Thea--”

His brows furrowed, “It’s not ‘cause of Thea.”

“But,” you continued, “I didn’t think-- I never wanted to leave, you know that, right? It just…” you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “it doesn’t make sense. You never really said… Can’t we--”

“Do we have to have this conversation again?” He glanced up at you.

Again? You never got to have such a conversation before, how could it happen again? It wasn’t worth arguing about that though, if you would start an argument about it you knew things would be guaranteed to spiral, you wanted the chance to actually talk.

“I just don’t understand it all.” You bowed your head, “I mean, you just… you left me.” Trying to understand, you shook your head and continued, “Was it… was it something to do with the band? Were you afraid I’d hold you back from growing? I know you’ve gotten more well known since thing’s ended.”

“It wasn’t the band,” he shook his head. 

You pushed, “Are you sure? Because if I took that job it would’ve messed with your plans for Pandora’s Signs, but I was never going to take the offer so I don’t know why Thea even told you.”

“It wasn’t just the bloody offer, y/n,” he snapped. “And that wouldn’t have been on Thea even if she had been the one to tell me,” If she had been the one to tell him? Harry’s gaze moved off to the side, trying to calm himself. “You should’ve told me yourself, but it’s more than that.”

“But I was never going to accept the job,” you repeated desperately.

“So that makes it okay that you hid it from me?” His eyes were cold, you could sense a slight anger in his words.

“No, I--” you whispered, his reply leaving you to feel less determined. “I should’ve told you.”

You should’ve, and you did regret it in some ways. You still wanted to stand by the idea that it was somehow Thea’s fault, because that felt like an easier option. You didn’t want to feel the guilt of it being on you, and you still struggled to stay mad at Harry for long before beginning to make excuses once more.

Deep down, you didn’t blame her at all. How could you be angry with someone for not realizing you’d want such a secret to be kept from the man you were meant to be marrying? And now, with what Harry had said, it seemed Thea had never been the one to expose that secret in the first place. 

“Whatever, it’s over now.” Harry seemed calmer, but much more annoyed than from the start. “I just… Even with the offer aside, I couldn’t fucking stay. It just made it more clear for me that I had to go.”

And there it was again, he couldn’t stay. That on it’s own reminded you where your previous anger was coming from, and you could feel the determination once more.

You wondered how long he had made himself stay. How long had he been unhappy in your relationship, because you had never noticed a single sign that he had been. But you figured you wouldn’t have noticed because, as Harry had graciously reminded you, you were apparently completely shut off from your emotions, so how could you pick up on anybody else’s?

“Of course, you couldn’t stay.” You repeated him, beginning to dig around in your purse.

He watched you carefully, trying to observe your sudden movement. He still seemed so detached from it, but at the same time it was completely clear that it had upset him in some way. It had always been hard to read such small details in Harry, while he did tend to express most of his emotions greatly, he would never show when something hurt him.

“I never meant to make you feel like you had to stay, like it was some…” you continued digging, “required effort of you.”

Harry was irritated, “y/n, c’mon, that’s--” 

“No.” You cut him off, ceasing your movement. “It’s what you’ve said, isn’t it? Maybe not directly, but you’ve said you couldn’t stay, right?” He seemed to be frozen, taken back by your reaction. “But you did stay, for years. And you… you had even proposed. So all I wonder is, when did it start to feel like you had to fucking stay? Hmm?”

He stayed silent, an unusual occurrence for Harry. You were coming from a fair place, he had broken your heart and was now trying to push it off like it was nothing. How could he expect you to just let it go? Maybe he hadn’t been ready to talk, and you really didn’t want to force him to, but you still deserved to be heard, he hadn’t given you that chance when he left.

You never imagined that you would just burst like that, but it felt nice in a way to be letting all of it out, even if it meant you had to hold yourself back from letting out a stream of tears in public, or even in front of Harry for that matter. 

“Whatever,” you turned to your purse again. “You don’t even want to be here, I’ll just cut it short, wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time. I’m sure you have plenty of maid of honour duties to tend to. Congrats on snatching the title, by the way.”

“You practically handed it over,” he scoffed. 

“Oh,” you laughed bitterly, “so you can comment on my issues? But you can’t be bothered to give me even the slightest bit of an explanation?”

“I have explained to you,” he leaned forward, “That I… I had to go.”

“Such a bullshit answer,” you muttered to yourself.

Tears were stinging your eyes now, a mix of emotions seemed to be placing them there. For two months you had felt so melancholic. You had spent hours, days, weeks crying. You had tried to understand it on your own, but no conclusion ever seemed to satisfy your mind. You wanted an answer from Harry, and now you weren’t even sure why you were wasting your time trying to get one.

He rubbed his chin, biting his lip, “It isn’t bullshit.”

“Isn’t it?” You looked back at him, “All you say is you had to go, and I’ve gotten that message by now. You did go, Harry. I stayed, for you, and you fucking--” you choked on your words, looking away from him for a moment in an attempt to collect your thoughts. “You left me, and now you’re just acting like I shouldn’t even be phased anymore?” You looked at him, and you could almost swear there were tears in his eyes now too. “What did you even expect from agreeing to meet with me?”

His gaze moved to the ceiling, and he took a moment to think. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, but he didn’t think something like this would occur. It was a bit odd for you to read such frustration on him in the moment. Now that you were actually seeing him upset it just felt like something you wanted to run from. 

“I don’t know,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Bit too late for sorry.” You finally pulled out a small box from your purse, slamming it down on the table and sliding it over to him, “You left this.”

Harry recognized it immediately, a small velvety black box. He knew it was the ring he had proposed with, but he was never expecting to get it back, he didn’t really want it back. You had still worn the ring for a week or two after the breakup, it was hard to imagine that it was all over. After that, you had probably spent hours staring at it, it had been one of the few things he had left behind with any sentimental value. 

It was a promise, so in a way it sparked some sort of hope that he might return. But then weeks passed, and he hadn’t even called. You couldn’t hold onto that hope any more, it was growing much too tiring.

“So it’s officially ended, then?” He reached for the box, clasping both of his hands over it and sadly closing his eyes.

“You decided for the both of us that it had officially ended when you left the apartment for the last time,” you stated, pulling yourself up from your seat. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

The entire conversation had been much worse than you thought, but at the same time it was so much more freeing. You had finally been able to ask him for answers, though he still avoided it, and you had been able to express your emotions about it to him, even if it didn’t come out as you hoped. 

You had probably made yourself seem so broken, and really you were but you didn’t want to admit that to him. Harry hadn’t cared, right? Because if he had, the least he could’ve done was give you a reason. But he never did, or at least he never explained any reason.

Harry could always so easily make your blood boil. He could read everyone too well, and he always knew just what to say to get at a person. You had always viewed it as something he did in defense of himself, but what did he have to defend when he called off the engagement? Because even then, at a time where there wasn’t any need for him to so cruelly defend himself, he still had.  

And you couldn’t completely blame him for the conversation in the cafe going downhill so fast, even if he had been so frustrating through it all. He actually seemed to be upset about the situation, even if only in the slightest of ways, because even if he would do everything in his power to seem as if he was untouched by any pain you knew that it was impossible that he had walked away with no emotion towards the situation at all. 

You had been together for years, since the latter half of secondary school. Thea had always sworn that the two of you would always be together, and when it had fallen apart with him you weren’t sure why you had lashed out at her. There were bumps within your relationship too over time, sure, but there was nothing that would’ve made you think Harry was going to break up with you. It was sudden, it was random, it was unexplained.

He had proposed to you just months before breaking up, but your relationship had been going so well before. You had wondered if maybe it was the idea of commitment that possibly scared him away, but he had already committed deeply to your relationship. So maybe it was just the idea of marriage, and had it been you figured he would’ve just said that. Maybe, if it had nothing to do with him, it had been you.

He had said it was you, yet when you just came to that conclusion when talking to him he was trying to interrupt and say that it wasn’t true. It made you wonder if Harry even knew why he broke it off.

So much for finding answers. Talking with him did still seem to give you closure in some ways, because it had been nice to finally say your piece. There was more you wanted to say, though, and more you wanted to know. But you didn’t want to have to talk to him again, not really. 

And it was a time like this that only made you think back on your friendship with Thea. She probably would’ve demanded answers from him, too, had your friendship not ended. Now she was likely going to listen to Harry rant on about you, because for whatever reason they had grown closer. It didn’t feel like she deserved Harry as a friend, but at the same time did you deserve him as a partner when you had been hiding information from him?

You didn’t have Thea anymore, no, but you did have Andrew. You had told him you were planning to meet Harry, and he had advised you that it probably wasn’t a very good idea, especially not to do it the night before the wedding. But you weren’t able to work yourself up to talking to him sooner, and if you were honest you had hoped to use the wedding to avoid seeing him after. 

Andrew had always been somewhat of a shadow of the group, always there with a view of just what everyone was going through. He had known how things with Harry would go not just because you were close to him, but because he knew Harry still too. He had known it was sensitive for the both of you, and that the timing wasn’t the best choice. Andrew could’ve predicted that Harry would avoid talking about it, and that you would become defensive. And he could’ve predicted that Harry would’ve acted like it was you that ended the relationship, when he was the one to walk away. 

Andrew knew, but he wouldn’t ever rub any of it in, why waste the time to? There were times where you could see that he did want to rub something in, but only if it wasn’t harmful in any way. He didn’t see the point in hurting people any more than they already had been.

So even though he knew what was coming out of you meeting Harry, you knew that he still would listen to you go on about it, but you also knew he would challenge you. Still, you decided to go to the local pub with him to chat.

“I mean, he couldn’t stay? Some bullshit, isnt?” You questioned, turning to Andrew on your barstool, “It’s all he says, ‘I couldn’t stay’ but he never says why.”

Andrew was sidetracked, “Is he really the new maid of honour?” 

“Yes!” You groaned, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Don’t even get me going about that, can you believe that Thea replaced me with him?”

“Well… no one ever said she was replacing you, and we know Harry, he probably gave himself the title.” He swirled his whiskey glass, “Didn’t you expect Thea to give someone else the title?”

Yes, you had. But Harry? Why Harry? Like Andrew said, there was a good possibility that Harry had given himself the title, so really you shouldn’t think of it as something personal that Thea had done against you. If anything, you were more angry with Harry now for claiming the title himself.

“But,” he waved his hand, “this isn’t about Thea right now. Did he actually try to act like it was you that ended it?”

“Yes, probably to make himself feel better.”

“Make himself feel better? You had lied to him, hadn’t you? You’d think you’d need to feel better.” 

“I didn’t lie,” you quickly defended, “I just.. I didn’t tell him.”

“Ah, yes…” he nodded slowly, almost to mock your response, “you just didn’t tell him that you turned down an offer to work at the Louvre. It was the next best step in your career with art, and you stayed in London. Christ, you turned down fucking France,” he exaggerated and took a sip of his old fashioned, “to stay with Harry. And don’t get me wrong, I can understand why you did... in a way, I suppose...” he was skeptical. “But, maybe he was upset that you had stayed. You had never really given him a say in the matter, you just decided on your own.”

Harry would have every right to be upset about that, you regretted not telling him about it now. At the time, the job offer seemed to be something that you needed to keep to yourself, you didn’t want it to become this huge ordeal that would only cause a number of other problems. It was amazing, but it was so overwhelming too. 

It didn’t feel like a decision you were making for the both of you, because it was you receiving the offer. You had told yourself that it would’ve been different had you been considered taking the position from the start, but you never really had.

“I didn’t turn it down just because of Harry.” Which was true, you really hadn’t.

Andrew hummed, “Does he know that?”

“He hasn’t exactly given me the chance to explain that,” you replied bitterly. “He just walked out, you’ll recall.”

Only so much of it could be blamed on Harry, which you knew, and really you didn’t want to blame him at all. It’s much easier to point fingers and imagine that the blame only belongs to one person, when in truth you knew that it wasn’t so simple.

Andrew sat quietly, he could see that you were becoming defensive so he wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t your enemy in the case, and though he had also felt you should’ve told Harry, he couldn’t help but feel empathy for you. He knew that you were never thinking of accepting the offer, which he thought was insane, so he had known that you never said anything to Harry because you didn’t want to cause an uproar.

When you had told Thea about the offer she was immediately filled with excitement, knowing what that meant to you, always so supportive of everything you did. The two of you had spent years planning out your perfect lives together, and she had known that working at the Louvre would’ve been another step closer to your perfect life. 

She had been so thrilled about the offer that you had nearly considered accepting it, but you reminded yourself what you would risk if you did. You weren’t sure what motive Thea could’ve possibly had in telling Harry about that, other than she could’ve just felt that he deserved to know what you had given up. 

“This wedding isn’t easy for any of us, you know?” Andrew was running his thumb over his lips, “Everyone seems to be worried about such vastly different things.”

It was true, none of you had seemed to be focusing on even a single same idea. More so, none of you were even really focused on the main reason you were all there, Thea’s wedding. 

“We’re all being so selfish,” you rested your head on the counter. “This is supposed to be about Thea getting married, and here I am worrying about a relationship that ended two months ago. And everyone else is worried about themselves too, d’you think anyone’s even asked Thea how she feels about all of this?” You quickly sat back up, a bit of concern washing over you, which you didn’t fully understand. “She must be so overwhelmed right now, don’t you think?”

Andrew shrugged, “I’m sure Harry’s been checking in with her. She’s been waiting to marry Nick for a while, I’d imagine she’s excited.”

“Oh, piss off,” you scoffed, “we both know she’s probably considering calling it off as we speak.”

Thea’s relationship with Nicholas had always been complicated. It was happy, but it was complicated. Most people in the town had expected them to be together forever, and those that knew Thea and Tom always thought otherwise. You had wished she chose Tom, and even Andrew, Nick’s stepbrother, had wished she chose Tom.

She could be happy with Nicholas, of course, but you had been worried about how fast that happiness would fade. Thea had put her life on a back burner for the sake of everyone around her, and that greatly included Nick. You had never liked Nick for that reason, because he was so selfish with Thea. Nicholas never meant to be selfish, and if anything Thea had become just as selfish in their relationship. It would surely be a loveless marriage, but who were you to care anymore than a stranger might now.

You never could understand what she saw in Nick or Tom. Especially Tom, he was an utter dumbass, but you knew that she cared for him. The rest of your friend group had tried to get them to say something, anything, about their feelings towards one another, but it never happened. Rather, they had been driven away from one another.

It was completely unexpected that those two would become so distant, but then again none of the current situation ever seemed to be a possibility before. But for them, Tom hadn’t spoken to Dorothea since you all had moved to London. He made himself distant from the rest of you too, due to whatever had happened between the two of them. You knew she was still going to try inviting him, probably hopeful that you could all be reunited, but you also knew that it didn’t seem likely Tom would show.

You had barely spoken to him, he did keep his distance from even you, and he would never talk about Thea, he didn’t want to dwell. All you knew about him now was that Harry had moved in with him after the two of you had split up, and you hadn’t talked to Tom sense. You hoped Tom would come, but maybe it was just because you still had hope that it all could be fixed.

Though, you really didn’t know where things went wrong with your relationship with Tom. At least with Thea and Harry you had something to grasp onto, some sort of beginning to figure it all out. But Tom really had just cut himself off. You knew things ended horribly between him and Thea, but he still never explained why that meant he had to walk away from you.

You had always shared that reliability of keeping your feelings to yourself, and it had allowed you to confide in one another over time. You missed being able to talk to Tom like before, but it was something that he had begun to spoil five years before any of this. From there, things just tumbled down between the two of you, like it was one regret after the other. 

Your eyes were focused on your glass, gently swirling it around mindlessly, “D’you think Tom will be at the wedding?” Part of you was hoping that he might be.

“Apparently he’s at least considering.” Andrew sounded surprised, pulling your attention to him.

He was looking towards the pub’s entrance, then pulling your eyes to that direction instead. “What’re you talking about?”

“Tom’s… he’s just walked in?” He pointed, “Did you know he was in town?”

Looking to the entrance you saw Tom walking in, “No, I had no idea…”

He was looking around, so casually deciding where he would sit before seeing you and Andrew already there. You could tell he had spotted you, as he seemed a bit panicked, he probably came to be alone. And after months of ignoring you in particular, you thought that the last person he would want to be around would be you.

You weren’t sure when exactly he finally decided that you were someone he would avoid, because Tom’s timing on most things seemed completely random. You could recognize that your past together was what inevitably pushed him away, but why so sudden? And it was something that you were convinced you had both moved on from, so it didn’t make much sense to be a problem any longer.

Tom must’ve decided that it hadn’t really mattered anymore, finding himself joining you and Andrew as you sulked.

“What kind of drinking are you two doing tonight?” Tom asked, taking a seat beside Andrew.

“Just here for a distraction,” Andrew smiled weakly, “what about you? Why’re you even in town?”

Tom glanced at the two of you before facing his head down, “Not sure, really.”

It still felt so strange that he was there.

You moved closer to the edge of your seat. “Did Thea still invite you?”

“I’m sure she contemplated it for months.” He looked at you, “I heard about your… falling out. I’m surprised you were invited too.”

“That’s not the same,” you scoffed, “you shattered her heart and then ignored her for years. I…”

“Blamed her for Harry leaving?”

You hadn’t expected that he would jump right back into calling you out, but then again you had done the same to him.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, “I’m not… I don’t want to fight with you tonight, can’t we just… drink and be glad to see one another again? All happy and whatever?”

You also hadn’t wanted to fight, though it was still very tempting. Things hadn’t ended well with Tom either, and he had given you as poor of a reason as Harry and Thea. But with Tom, you could’ve taken a better guess at why he left you.

You shouldn’t have cared anymore, why be bothered by someone who was pushing you out of their life? They clearly hadn’t wanted you. Still, your curiosity often got the best of you, and you had so many questions for Tom now, more than just ones to do with Thea too. You had once been so close with Tom, and now it was like you hadn’t known him at all. 

Then again, Tom had never been one for much consistency. Five years before, he had gone from gushing over Thea each day, to insisting that the two of you were suddenly meant to be in a timespan of maybe a week. And, as it turns out, after you gave you and Tom a shot, he was wrong about you being a perfect pair. But, you had been just as wrong about you and Harry.

Andrew cleared the silence, “So you did come for the wedding?” 

Tom sighed to himself, “I… don’t know.”

“Oh, you absolutely did,” Andrew chuckled. “But, and that’s a rather large but, if you didn’t… why are you here?”

There was silence for a few moments, which was what Tom had really come to the pub for. He hadn’t spoken to Andrew much within the past few months either, but he had somewhat missed Andrew’s ability to get him to talk so easily. They had been close once too, before you and Thea had met them or Harry. It had been Harry, Tom, and Andrew together, and you and Thea had known one another way before.

“I haven’t decided if I’m going yet,” Tom admitted. “I mean, can you believe it’s even happening?”

He already knew the answer both of you would give. No one thought that Thea would actually end up marrying Nick, at least none of you had. And he had known that you didn’t want the wedding to happen, though he recently struggled to see your indifference on the topic. Why should you waste your time worrying about them now?

“Nick…” he said in disbelief. “Of all people, she chose Dickolas?” It was a rather childish nickname Harry had thought of years ago, when you had all met Nick before Thea ever even dated him. “It’s the obvious decision isn’t it? Picking Nick allows her to have that… perfect life she always used to go on about, doesn’t it?” He spoke with venom, but he also seemed so tired. “I guess I just didn’t think she would actually choose Nick.”

“It was always Nick,” Andrew sat his glass down, “at least that’s what everyone around town is saying.”

Andrew had meant more in saying that than anything to do with just the Thea and Tom situation. He had probably known Nicholas better than the rest of you, though maybe not better than Thea now, considering they were step brothers now and had been for a handful of years. It was something he seemed to do his best to ignore, though he never fully explained why. Anyone could understand to an extent had they met Nick.

“That’s such bullshit,” Tom muttered to himself.

You shook your head in disbelief, “You’re saying it’s bullshit? You didn’t exactly give her any other choice when you left her-- when you left all of us.” Why defend Thea now? “I just don’t think you get much of a say when you didn’t exactly step forward.”

“Maybe I would’ve if I knew I ever had a chance,” he glanced at you before turning his gaze back to his glass. “You’re giving advice on choice making again? I don’t think any of our friend group gets to do that, maybe Andrew.”

Tom was right that you didn’t have much room to say anything about choice making, and Andrew did seem to be the only one of you that was capable of making the right decisions. Who were you to say a thing about anyone else’s choices? But it was still such bullshit that he was blaming you for him missing his chance with Thea.

“She didn’t choose him because I left,” Tom started slowly, “it was because he was a simple solution to her problem. Thea’s always had this… perfect picture of what she wants, and she’s apparently willing to give up everything she cares for to have it. And that’s all it is, a perfect picture.” He was biting his, taking a moment to think. “If you were to look through the curtains of their relationships I’m sure it’s…” he took in a sharp breath.

Andrew cut in, “We don’t get to make Thea’s choice, and we don’t get to judge them either.” 

“I’m not judging her.”

“You are.” Andrew gave Tom a knowing look.

“I’m not.” Tom placed his hands down, turning to Andrew, “I’m not judging her, I’m noting the fucking obvious. She was always willing to settle for Nick if it meant pleasing everyone else around her. You said it yourself, Andrew, the entire town has been expecting them to get married for years now, and you want to act like that hasn’t played into her decision?”

He was right again, it was very likely that it hadn’t played a huge part in Thea’s final choice. There was always a pressure on Thea’s shoulders to be perfect, given some of that pressure had been applied by no one else but herself. But it was still her decision, as much as any of you would disagree.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you scoffed lightly to yourself. “The wedding is tomorrow, and if you didn’t do anything to stop their relationship years ago you aren’t going to now.” 

It wasn’t about Tom and his falling out with Thea, but there was some part of you that couldn’t help but place some of the blame there. It was Thea’s decision.

“I shouldn’t have to stop her. She should be able to do it herself,” he was shaking his head slowly, “and she should’ve walked away from him when we all left for London.” 

Andrew seemed to be growing tired of you and Tom, “Oh yes, because London worked so well for the rest of us.” 

“It only fell apart when we no longer had Thea,” you pointed out.

Tom gestured his drink towards you, “At least one of you can understand in some way.” 

And there you were again, back to the idea that this was somehow due to Thea not going to London. That had been when it started to crumble, and you couldn’t help but feel frustrated with her at that time for refusing to follow her true dreams.

“You’re both just as bad as Nicholas.” Andrew spoke quietly, watching the liquid in his glass as it swirled.

“Don’t compare me to him,” Tom snapped.

“Then stop acting like him,” Andrew smiled plainly towards Tom. “You both used her too. You do understand that, don’t you?” 

You were puzzled, “What?” 

“Mmm,” Andrew finished his drink. “You want to act as if you’re any better than Nicholas, but how can you be? The both of you loved Thea until you finally had enough of her-- until she stopped simply following your desires. It took you what,” he looked at you, “five minutes to fall down a rabbit hole of an idea that Thea was responsible for Harry leaving? And you, Tom.” He sounded so determined now. “You spent your entire relationship-- which was only ever a friendship because you ruined that more than once- avoiding admitting any of your actual feelings for her, yet that’s somehow only on her? What did the two of you expect?”

What did you expect? You had never thought that you used Thea, but had you? No. You couldn’t let yourself sit on that thought for long.

As for Tom, he couldn’t as easily say that. He had shattered her heart when he told her five years before that it was you he liked, not her. And he had done it again by telling her on and on about how she was bullshit for not being her own person, right before leaving town and proceeding to block her out of his life entirely. He had directly hurt her over and over, yet still wanted to act so innocent. 

There were things you undeniably had done that hurt her too, you weren’t going to pretend that you were perfect. Things that you thought were resolved before your falling out, unlike Thomas who was still refusing to even see Thea.

“Whatever,” Tom murmured, standing up to leave, “I didn’t come here to be given a lecture.”

“Then why did you come?” Andrew asked again, truly curious but at the same time only wanting  to be bitter.

Tom scoffed, “You seem to have all the answers, you tell me.” He began to walk away but quickly turned back, pointing a finger at Andrew, “You don’t get to act like you’re any better than the rest of us. I know how you feel about this wedding, and I know you’re just having a go at me because of whatever the fuck you’ve got going on.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be taking it so personally then?” Andrew lazily glanced at him, no longer wanting to bother.

You could tell Tom was biting his tongue, and he had decided to just leave after that. It wasn’t how you expected the night to go, especially considering you hadn’t even imagined you would be seeing Tom. It was curious that Andrew was now getting so defensive about the situation, it made you question if he really was going through something of his own like Tom had said.

It stung that your first interaction with Tom in months had turned out to be so sour. For whatever reason, you had such hopes that when the friend group was reunited again it would be much more pleasant, now here you were with Tom walking out, having returned the ring to Harry, avoiding Thea, and not knowing where you stood with Andrew at the moment. 

What was there to say now? You weren’t sure how to feel about the things Andrew had said, because maybe they were true. You didn’t want to fight him anymore, you were much too tired and it didn’t seem to have any purpose to continue fighting. 

Why had you come for the wedding? You hadn’t even seen Thea and the wedding was now less than a day away. You had told yourself that you couldn’t miss it though, because something about not attending felt worse than just going. You were still angry at her, and the blame for Harry was still very much being put on her shoulders.

That wasn’t on your mind when you had decided to go, though. When you told yourself you were going it was somewhat out of hope that you could make up with Thea, as much as you would deny it. You had known one another since birth, it was hard to imagine you wouldn’t be at her wedding even as angry as you were.

When you had decided to go you had a certain memory with Thea on your mind, one from your childhood. You thought of the fake weddings you used to throw in your back yards, nearly every time you got ring pops. The two of you would pick some flowers, adding in dandelions for good measure, and scatter them around the yard for decoration. Thea was always sure to dress her part, no matter the part. For whatever reason, you couldn’t stop picturing it. 

It didn’t seem to do you any good to remember it now, as you would only remind yourself about how things had gone wrong right after. This wasn’t something as simple as a faux wedding that was only being thrown because you had gotten ring pops that day. Thea was getting married, and you had handed your ring back to Harry. Things were so different now. 

Even as you now stood in the chapel, waiting for Thea to come out, you were second guessing whether you should’ve come. You were longing for your friendship to be mended, but was that enough to make going worth it? By this point it was much too late to turn back. 

You were standing with the rest of the guests now, next to Andrew whilst Tom was nowhere to be seen, it was no surprise. You looked to Harry, who was standing where you were meant to be not long ago. He still seemed so unbothered. You almost couldn’t believe that he had taken the title of maid of honour. You had wondered if it was an idea of his or if it was Thea, either way you were convinced that it was done out of spite. 

It was a shock to hear that he took the title. It hurt as his ex, but as Thea’s friend too. To you, it seemed to be the nail in the coffin, confirming that Thea didn’t want to make amends with you. You were meant to be the maid of honour, something that you had planned together and agreed upon during one of your ring pop weddings, now here you were having not even seen the bride in months.

The doors at the end of the aisle swung open, revealing Thea waiting with her arm linked to her father’s. She looked perfect, you knew she would. She had her pearl necklace resting gently against her chest, her makeup looked freshly finished. You could still sense the anxiousness that had seemed so plain to you, though no one else had seemed to be concerned. 

There were quiet compliments of her beauty, people smiling ear to ear with excitement that the day they dreamed of was finally there. But you couldn’t feel that excitement, to you it was the day that your childhood best friend was signing her life away. You were no longer allowed to have such concern, though.

You glanced around, thinking of the ridiculousness of the whole event. The entire wedding seemed like such a waste. It made you wonder, would’ve it felt this way if you were to marry Harry? Had he not left, had Thea never told him about the job offer, would’ve it felt like an attempt to have a perfect life?

The music began, pulling your eyes back to Thea. You could see the bouquet of flowers moving, you figured she was fidgeting with them in an attempt to distract herself. Beneath her flowers you could see a blue bracelet dangling. It couldn’t be.

When you were younger you had made friendship bracelets with one another, wearing them for years to come. You weren’t sure why she would still be wearing it at this point, it must’ve been something else, anything else. Whether it was that bracelet or not, you figure it was Thea’s “something blue” from the wedding rhyme she had been repeating even months before the wedding as she worried about having everything to fit the rhyme.

Thea’s eyes were darting all around the room, looking at anyone but Dickolas you had noted. You could’ve sworn that her eyes had landed on you too, even if for the briefest of ways. Her anxiousness was more clear and confirmed to you when you saw her eyes, as if she was begging you for help, of all people.

No, you probably were just imagining things. Why would she look to for help? If anything, she probably hadn’t even meant to glance your way. And of all the things she could’ve picked for something blue, why would she go with the bracelet from a broken and lost friendship? 

She took her first step. 

So it was really happening? Thea was going to give up even more of herself to live out a perfect life. It didn’t feel right in a way to have to stand and watch her destroy her life. You had warned her, before the fight. Maybe that’s why she had told Harry about France, she was trying to get back at you for saying time and time again that you hadn’t approved of the wedding. You couldn’t just stand by, though.

Another step, though her foot seemed to be filled with lead as she struggled to continue going. Maybe Thea had been second guessing too. But what for? This was the life she had sworn she dreamed of, the life that she needed everyone else to see.

You were still upset with her, but you couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t wish you could help her in the moment, even if it was in the smallest of ways. You could see that she was terrified, almost like she was wishing something would interrupt. It made you want to, to just step right into the aisle with her and run the other way. 

What a show that would be. You knew that it would make Harry angry that he hadn’t thought of it first, while Andrew would likely be disappointed in all of you. Had Tom been there too, he likely would’ve just followed along blindly, as he often did. The sentiment of the thought almost made you smile, before remembering how it had all fallen apart. 

“No.” You heard Thea whisper, now noticing that she had been frozen in place.

Everyone seemed to be confused, hardly even understanding what she had said. 

She was shaking her head now, “No.” 

As she took a step back her father tried to hold on and reassure her. “Thea? It’s okay.”

You could tell it wasn’t going to work, but you also didn’t believe that she would leave at this point even though you wished she would.

“No!” She yelled, causing everyone’s smiles to fade. “This is bullshit!” she pulled her arm away from her father.

No one could believe what they were seeing, Dorothea was about to walk away from her wedding. You had to stop yourself from smiling, a sense of pride filled you that she was really going to go. 

“Thea?” Her father questioned, trying to understand. 

There was no real point, you could see that she was no longer listening as she continued to slowly back away.

“Dorothea?” Nicholas was now calling for her.

You could feel a smile creeping back onto your face, but not in a way to make fun of Thea, you were glad that she was leaving. The entire thing was turning into more and more of a joke, though, surrounding itself with more and more drama and theatrics.

She was still looking at her father, “I can’t.” 

You had to pinch yourself to make sure it was really happening, Thea had begun sprinting back down the aisle and out the doors. Everyone was in complete shock, silence had fallen over the chapel while everyone tried to process what was happening. But how could anyone process that?

Most of the people attending had never suspected that she would have reason to run off, let alone even imagining that she would actually do it. And you, who had hoped from the beginning that she wouldn’t marry Nicholas, hadn’t expected her to run away. It was surreal.

You had wanted to follow, to make sure that she was okay as she went through whatever this was, but you weren’t sure that you had the right to anymore. As she gained more distance from the aisle, everyone began to realize what was happening. Nick had tried to follow her, her father too. Harry still seemed a bit surprised, somewhat of a smile on his lips too. 

“Should we follow her?” Andrew was concerned.

You didn’t know how to answer that, instead your smile seemed to be growing. “Maybe?”

Thea had lost her heel, along with the pearls and veil that she had ripped off in desperation to escape it all. You shouldn’t have found it funny, and really you didn’t, but it just didn’t seem real. There were people that were growing angry, at Thea but at you too for smiling.

“Maybe try not to be so happy about your best friend running from her wedding,” Nicholas’ mother, Gina, had spat at you.

Your smile remained, still growing wider at the occasion. More people had gone after her, most people now pulled away from their original positions. You had moved too, closer to the door to see where exactly she was going to be running off to.

Things just seemed to be getting worse and worse for your friend, you had recognized Tom’s car pulling in. She must’ve not known, or maybe she just hadn’t cared, because she jumped into the car and you could hear her demanding that he would drive her away. After that you could no longer hold back your laughter, it was too much of a storm.

Thea called out as the car pulled away, “Enjoy the lobster!”

You could only laugh harder at her words, while everyone else was taking the situation to be much more upsetting. People were still trying to run after, as if the car would be stopping. You wondered what drove her to finally do it, whatever it was it must’ve been something overwhelming, something to make her finally snap.

There wasn’t anything comical about it on the surface, so you couldn’t blame people for the looks you were receiving from them. The only other person that seemed to have even the faintest smile on them was Harry, who had been laughing right with you now. It was almost enough to make your laughter end, having been the only one laughing with him.

Was any of this even actually happening? You still weren’t sure. You were standing in a chapel, watching your old childhood best friend run away from her wedding and laughing along with the man you had returned an engagement ring to just the night before. Of everything that was happening, the most striking had to be that you were laughing with Harry again. Even that, simple laughter, felt like something so illicit.

Never would’ve you thought that you would end up here. Not five years ago, not two months ago, not even a day ago. You weren’t sure what to put your attention towards anymore. Did you focus on Thea? Or did you only consider yourself now? 

And it was ironic now that the memory of the ring pop weddings were what had drawn you into going to Thea’s wedding. It felt like you should’ve been running after her, that’s what you would’ve been doing had things not gone bad between the two of you. Harry should’ve been now, surely he recognized it as part of his new duties as her maid of honor. But, apparently he hadn’t.

He was approaching you, though you weren’t sure you could trust any of what you were seeing still. That had made your smile fade, it was reminding you of all the reasons you had not to be there anymore. You didn’t really belong anymore, and that was becoming more and more clear. Dicko-- Nick’s mother hadn’t wanted you there, lord knew Nicholas couldn’t care less one way or the other, and Thea probably hadn’t really wanted you there either. 

You could feel the tightening of your chest again, now you needed to escape from the chapel. Harry was stepping closer, you could tell he had recognized that you were suddenly growing much more anxious, but he had decided against pointing it out.

He decided on directing the attention back to the main event, “I can’t believe Thea took my advice…” What the hell did that mean? “I’ll start the car if you grab the cake?”

thea’s side

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[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - May 9

Happy Sunday!! Here’s what I’ve been reading this week. As always, leave your fic authors some love if you read and enjoy their stories! 

**Indicates my recent favs 

~*~ 

pretty little thing by areiton (MCU/2K) 

Steve isn’t little. He isn’t fragile and precious, a treasure to be hoarded. Maybe he never was, but now, now, now with his too big body and his broad shoulders and miles of muscles--

Now he sure as hell isn’t.

It was the Fourth of July by seratonation (Proposal AU / 12K) 

Based on The Proposal. Steve has been Tony’s assistant for 3 years when he finds out that Tony is actually not American and is going to be deported. Tony talks Steve into getting married but Steve insists on seeing his family first. Tony invites himself along to make sure his plan doesn't go awry, but unfortunately Steve’s family is actually pretty amazing.

Object: Matrimony by BladoftheNebula (A/B/O /38K)

Omega Tony Stark craves adventure and an escape from the life his parents have planned for him in New York. He places a listing in a marriage catalogue to seek a match with an alpha out West, and Sheriff Steve Rogers answers his advertisement. But finding a nice alpha doesn't mean it's all smooth sailing from there...

- A Mail Order Bride AU -

***Papa Don’t Preach (Series) by FestiveFerret & SirSapling (Ultimates/102k) 

"Whoever did this has a reason, and Stark needs to be with someone who can protect him. He won’t exactly be able to protect himself like this.” Fury looked at the baby consideringly. “No, it’s you, Steve. Besides, he likes you. Suck it up, soldier, you’re stuck with him.”

Treasured by HashtagLEH (Warlord AU/9K) 

No one in Manhattan spoke their language – or at least, no one fessed up to it – and so all of the negotiating was done with Natasha acting as translator. Steve didn’t think it mattered, because he had told the ones who would leave the ship earlier that day that he had no intention of accepting any treaty, that they would lay siege to this city before the week was out.

But then Natasha stilled beside him at something that Stane had said to them, and Steve focused in, more alert. Something was wrong, he could feel it, but he didn’t know what with everyone speaking what may as well be gibberish all around him.

“He offers an unmated, untouched Omega,” she told him, not taking her eyes from the bald man at the other end of the table.

An unmated – what? He wanted to trade an Omega? Did he not have any idea of an Omega’s value? Surely his resources would be better spent whisking the Omega away to safety before the city was set to waste.

Natasha was looking to him for direction, confirmation, he didn’t know. So he told her, his voice placid and even and giving nothing away. “Accept the negotiations. Don’t let on that I want that Omega the most."

***Take My Heart Clean Apart by Mistmountainking (MCU/13K) 

He’s tired, so tired of waiting, tired of touches with no meaning, tired of holding his breath when Steve’s in the room, tired of keeping this love to himself.

 “I can’t—I can’t, if you don’t mean it.”

***

Tony comes home exhausted after an SI event. Steve acts as welcoming committee. It's an old, careworn routine they've perfected over the years, but tonight ends up going in a very different direction.

And the world keeps spinning by Perpetual Motion (Comic/15k) 

He considers everything he knows. His keys don't work. Bucky's in his apartment. There's a gun to his head. He doesn't have his phone or his Avengers tag. "I died."

T is for Thong by Elspethdixon (Marvel616/2K) 

Naked might actually have been slightly less distracting. Tony was… almost wearing… a tiny, tight scrap of red fabric that most definitely didn't hide anything.

***Orbiter dictum by schmevil (MCU/7K) 

Steve is at the sink, washing the few dishes that pizza for two generates, when he realizes that Tony is in love with him.

Nothing important happened today by thedevilchicken (MCU/17K) 

Steve's stuck in a time loop. Sometimes he's not sure he wants to get out of it.

***Off grid by Letterblade (MCU/7K) 

Steve and Tony go camping, bears are the greatest threat facing America, and tick tweezers are the best invention of the decade.

Some form of electricity by FestiveFerret & SirSapling (AU/57K) 

Steve doesn’t know what he’d do without Tony, and thank god he has him, because after getting the phone call that Bucky’s alive, everything is a blur. But Tony gets him there, all the way to Germany. It isn’t until he’s watching his friend lie motionless in a hospital bed that it really hits him.

Bucky is coming home, and he’s coming home broken.

The stark-tangled man with a crappy plan by Serinah (A/B/O / 13K) 

*At first, it seemed to be an easy job: find the O, secure the O, and hand him over to his guardian and the fiance. Simple. Unfortunately, the omega wasn't onboard. At all.*

OR:

Steve has to return a runaway omega to his guardian Mr. Stane.

Stories we never tell by ashes0909 (A/B/O / 32K

One could argue, it was none of Steve’s business. The omega was obviously bonded to the alpha, even if the bond was one-way. That bite was all society needed to overlook the transgressions that Steve had witnessed on the sidewalk. But Steve wasn’t society, and waking up decades in the future, he’d been disappointed by what had changed and what had very much stayed the same.

As hoarded as gold by FestiveFerret (Soulmate AU/12K) 

Steve wakes up in a new world, in 2008, and joins the Avengers where he finally gets to meet the man whose name has been imprinted on his skin since birth. But Tony Stark is closed-off, distant, and disinterested. While Steve is trying to come to grips with finding out his soulmate doesn't want him, he can't help but notice the decline of Tony's health. Worried about his heart after the arc reactor, Steve steps up to help him, but when Tony confesses what's really wrong, it's not at all what Steve expected.

Patience by FestiveFerret & SirSapling (AU / 8K) 

Try as he might, Steve just couldn't seem to paint the arc reactor quite right. And it was driving him crazy.

***Love’s such an old-fashioned word by AnnieD (MCU/11K) 

Steve gets the very brilliant idea that he and Tony should date, but Tony needs some convincing.

I saw cap kissing santa claus by Mizzy (Marvel 616/7K)

When Tony dressed as Santa for Queen County Hospital's annual toy drive, he wasn't expecting Steve to recognize him...as Iron Man.

Disjointed by veryvincible (Horror /16k) 

His hands— cold, clammy, lightly trembling— reached for the glass of water on his nightstand. His grip was tight; he knew he would drop it if given the chance.

It was lukewarm against his lips, and wholly unsatisfying. His forearms shook slightly with the tension, the tremors in his hands causing a noticeable shift in the water. It had a syrup-y quality to it as it dipped back and forth in its glass, almost, though he hadn’t noticed the difference in texture as he drank. The longer he stared, the lower the viscosity, as if it noticed him perceiving it and willfully moved with less ease.

Christmas affair by Neverever (MCU/6K) 

Tony thinks that Steve will be proposing to him after many years of living together, except that Steve has a secret that could ruin it all.

Unknown caller (Do Not Engage) by gottalovev (Non-Powered/13k) 

Steve had one job: exchange a couple of texts with a guy who thought he had Natasha's number, and let him down gently. It ends up being a lot more complicated than that.

***Genesis by teaberryblue (Ultimates/35k) 

Reluctant to make the truth about their secret weapon known, the American Government tells the world that Captain America is a man named Steve Rogers. According to public record, he died, tragically, in 1945, and he became legend.

In 1998, the Avengers find a body trapped in ice.

She's alive.

Her name is Eve.

She has Captain America's shield.

[han-shinsuke]

k u r e n o s o h m a

b o i l i n g p o i n t🔞

“Mr. Sohma. Mr. Sohma, can you walk?” the man didn’t answered, face remains intact with his working desk, few cans of beer scattered around his room. He had been drinking and the reasons for it were unknown.

Unknown? I mocked myself for it. You were the cause of his misfortunes and sadness for the past months.

“Please, help yourself, Mr. Sohma. The bed is just right there,” averting my gaze from his blinking pair when they met mine, I gave his weight a push and led him towards the bed. It creaks, catching our combined weights as we settled on it.

I undone his polo, giving him space to breathe, “Mr. Sohma, I still don’t remember it.” But my heart does remember you. It can recall the warmth of the love you’ve been telling me like all those scenarios just happened yesterday.

“Please, stop blaming yourself,” this tired face, longing eyes and lips that deserves attention, are meant to be worshipped, not to carry burdens.

Lips that couldn’t speaks, eyes that tells stories, Kureno Sohma, had suffered enough.

“Y/N, I failed.” tears hanging on the edge of his eyes.

“You can always try, Mr. Sohma.” It’s always hard to forgive oneself, right? “Give yourself time to heal.”

“The memory you’ve had been trying to make me remember, what was it?” Kureno’s face softened. The tears on the edge finally rolled down his cheeks.

I got the answer for it but I want him to confirm it.

“I tried killing you on your eighteenth birthday.”

Akito’s mellow timbre rings in my head.

“The bond was strong it defeated his love for you that when I asked him to take your heart, he had willingly struck a knife in your chest.”

“Kureno,” I called his name softly. There was an inconsolable smile on my lips after that, “did you marry me because of your promise or it’s because you love me still?”

I thought it would take him forever to construct an ideal answer but he was quick to respond.

“I keep my promise because I love you,” Kureno lowered his head, load of tears streaming down his angelic face.

I may have lost hundred of memories with him from that incident a decade ago, but no ounce of love had skipped my heart since then.

“I love you, Kureno.”

My heart is swelling with so much love for him that I care no more if he was the one who put a large-scale scar on my chest. Kureno suffered as much as I did and I don’t intend to cause him more pain.

Our lips touched each other when I went for a kiss he found hard to return. I inched away from his face, feeling a little down. Does my kiss disgusted him?

“I–I’m sor—” he cut my apology by slamming his lips on mine, swiping slow his thin ones against my lower lip that I didn’t notice was quivering due to the aggressive contact.

There’s nothing to hold on to asides from his exposed chest and shoulders, so I resorted to holding on to my knees as the kiss deepens. My mind was blank. There were no records of him and I doing this kind of thing. Nothing resurfaced. Could it be our first kiss? It might be. Kureno was the one who’s moving and taking full control of the situation. I just sat here, gripping my knees as I feel his every little movements. His kisses were sensual and hot against my trembling mouth that cannot even return the favor.

A string was formed when our lips parted, breathing closed on each other mouth, I asked, “ever kissed a statue?” Kureno laughed, connecting our lips again, breaking the string. I tried to mimick his lips motions but I ended up having every corners of my lips wounded by his unintentional bites between our kiss. Damn. I’m a bad kisser.

“Your blood tastes like honey,” he seemed pleased by my errors that he managed to turn my full face red when he licked his lips with my blood on it.

I turned away to hide my face and swollen lips but Kureno forced me to face him by removing my Radiohead shirt. He did it so easily and fast that I looked so dumbfounded when he lain me on the bed, topless. I don’t wear a bra at home, so he feasted his eyes on my not-so big bosoms.

“Just to be fair with you, wife,” Kureno slid his tops off his body and joined me on the bed, covering our bottoms that he started undoing while staring straight in to my soul.

The first touch was chilly, perhaps due to the newness of the situation for me. But when his toned abdomen and ‘that’ touched mine, that’s the moment I felt it rising. The heat.

My head fell in defeat, eyes fluttering from the high temperature consuming my awareness. His room was darkened from the absence of lights but Kureno made no mistakes of where he should touch first. It went straight to my chest, tracing the thin gash that a knife created. The moonlight peeked into his room at the Sohma Estate, shining brightly at us.

“You’re beautiful.” It felt genuine, his comment. I held his face near the scar. His hair tickling my neck.

“You are, too, Kureno.” I smiled at the moon. Our silent witness towards the boiling point.

My hands grabbed his hair for support. His slick tongue ran along the length of the scar, nipping the top skin near the crook of my neck. He breathed there, melting the cold by his warm breath. Kureno raised his head, trying to get a hold of my failing eyes.

“Look at me, Y/N.” He held down my wrists on both sides of my head, pinning them with gentle force, “I can stop—”

“Don’t.” I hope the determination in my eyes was enough to make him continue his business.

He spoken no words, just his lips launching down to mine as a response. I parted my lips for him, letting his tongue to intrude my mouth he tasted awhile ago. Kureno breathed sharply inside my mouth. I may have stirred him by sucking his bottom lip. He did that to me, I was just returning the heat.

“Kureno!” his right hand surprised me. I felt it above my chest, squeezing, palming with great pressure. My head turned to the other side, slipping away from his mouth that landed on my jaw. He kissed me there. Gnawing the fluffy skin that extends downwardly to my neck.

“Kureno... Kureno... ” I kept crying his name as he keeps nibbling my neck and eventually, sucking the part he chooses to leave his mark.

He moaned, hummed and breathed throughout the movements. Mesmerized by his own masterpiece. I heard him commending my soft cries and patience. He even said I looked magnificent with all the red marks he imprinted on my neck and shoulders.

I knew it would come. The part where we need to establish a connection between us. The duvet hanged tightly around his torso as he hovered over me, parting my thighs with his knee, I felt him there, leaning down the entry point.

Kureno rised my legs high enough for him to handle. My whole body was trembling from anticipation. It would burn. It would. He put it atop the flesh, testing the readiness.

He claimed my lips again. Moving down my neck, finishing onto one of the buds that aches for his touch.

“Kureno...” I felt it again rubbing atop of my core. He placed my hand on his chest. Wrapped my legs around his hips and lastly, encouraged me to grab on his wrist and I came up with an idea.

When it came, the burn, the heat, the suffocating pain that fired up my whole senses, I bit his left wrist hard as he pushed into it.

Kureno’s lips gaped apart and his head snapped backwards when he reached the end of the passage.

I sobbed underneath him, squirming from the pain that hangs around.

“Bear with me, wife. You’ll get used to it.”

He withdrawn his wrist from my grip and removed the pillow beneath my head, caging me whole inside his arms as he holds me down by my shoulders. I felt small underneath him, completely overpowered by his strength.

“It’s consuming me, Kureno aah!” it burns and burns and burns that without uncertainty, I was sure it was bleeding from the sudden stretch. My sobs turned out as a loud cry, giving Kureno a hard time to adjust and move freely.

His palms soothed my sides, squeezing only when needed. Gave full attention on my chest and with those gestures, it’s too late for me to realize that he’s already easing his way in and way out.

“I will seed this land of yours and you won’t waste a drop, understood?” Kureno turned out to be a supreme one and he actually left me astounded by whispering all the dirty things he would do to me. That I belong only to him and he’ll never let me go again.

I should be embarrassed by all of his dirty talks and how he manhandled me right after my body adjusted from him but it turned out to be just fine and surprisingly, caused the numerous build up of my arousal that night.

The sun was up and far beyond the horizon when I decided to have my meal after our heated night. Kureno brought me a toast and iced cold fruit juice. It felt awkward having him watched me eating the food he served.

“Tell me when you need some medication, wife.” I would be needing some, look at me, beaten in a good way and overworked. Kureno pushed my hair behind and checked my neck. He tsked but with a grin.

“I just wanna sleep all day, Kurenohmmpp!” I gasped from his unannounced action. Stealing the toast between my lips using his lips. Our lips partly touched each other and dang! His eyes turned into the darkest hue.

Kureno loosened the lace of the hoodie I was wearing and playfully pulled a portion down, revealing my shoulder blade, “tsk, but I plan keeping you awake all day, wife.”

The heat just won’t die down in that darkened room.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothed - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 3: Blood

Summary: While treating Illumi’s wounds, you learn something about his past.

Warnings: Well...blood. Mentions of past abuse. Choking.

Words: ~1800

Story Masterlist

“You could at least try to relax when you’re at home, Lumi.”

As usual, every muscle on Illumi’s body was tensed as he shifted around on the small wooden chair, his upper half completely bare.

Running your hands over his delicate skin, you couldn’t help but humming happily while opening the first-aid-kit.

Lumi.

That nickname wasn’t really creative, you had to admit. Yet there were still many thoughts connected to it.

How it sounded a lot like ‘Luna’, for example - the latin word for ‘moon’. Illumi pretty much had a moon face anyway.

A wet and warm feeling on your fingertips got you down to earth again - it was your husbands blood, steadily running down his whole back. Quickly, you got a gauze pad to absorb it and started working.

Had it come to you fancying him that much that you already lost yourself in daydreams?

The deep cut on his shoulder would most likely leave a scar, no matter how well you’d treat it. Yet what bothered you more was the fact that he had acutally tried to hold the gap together with his way too big needles.

“Sorry...” you whispered as you tugged them out of his flesh, but he wouldn’t even flinch.

He insisted it was fine, and you knew that he was used to the pain. But he could still feel it, even if his face remained as cold and calm as always.

God knows what’s going on in his head...your husband was very hard to read, actually.

But you knew he wasn’t just a puppet for his family. Illumi had some thoughts of his own, and you burned to get through to him.

The flesh wound was still bleeding, and since it hadn’t been properly closed in hours, you needed to clean it first. “I’m so sorry” you repeated, pouring some disinfectant into the cut.

“Stop apologizing.” The way he emphasized the words made him almost sound irritated.

“B-But I-”

“You’re assisting me as I demanded, so there’s no rational reason for you to say something like that.” It were moments like this that made you think Illumi actually tried to calm you down - the best he knew how. Through choosing his words wisely.

After the bleeding stopped, you began stitching up the wound while your husband was still sitting as if frozen in place.

“I-I just don’t want you to feel more pain than necessary...” He was used to way worse. You were well aware of that fact, and yet-

“Y/N.” Hearing your name escaping his lips, you immediately got attentive. “Is that the reason you’re holding back while sparring with me?”

For a long while, the room fell completely silent.

Because both of you knew he was right.

“I see.” Before you could even think of an answer, Illumi jumped up from his chair, running his hand over your handiwork. “Thanks for the bandage.”

Oh god, he was preparing to leave again. Maybe forever this time.

Soon, he’ll tell his parents you were unfit for an assassin’s spouse - too soft and weak.

Death was a bearable punishment for your shortcomings, but simply being thrown out like a toy one has grown tired of?

How pathetic, being afraid of conseqences you now only imagined. Knowing very well that empathy was considered futile in this environment.

And yet you were shocked it came that way, only because of you speaking your mind.

“Illumi, wai-”

He cut you off right there, turning around with his hand reaching for your neck.

Illumi’s aura had always been intense, laced with a bloodlust that seemed like it was imprinted on him at his very birth.

You’ll never get used to seeing him like this.

“Are you scared?” he asked just before his fingers wrapped around your throat, repeating the question at your lack of reaction. “Are you afraid of me?”

Slowly but increasingly, the pressure on your neck began to become discomforting, making you wince a little.

Yet your look wouldn’t falter, rather decided taking on a staring contest with him.

“I’m afraid of you leaving me.”

Just like that, he retracted his hand.

The look in your eye gave it away. Every word, every syllable you spoke was true. 

Even Illumi could tell just how much genuine affection they held - and he wasn’t immune to it either.

You cleared your throat and he only now realized just how much force he had used on you. Yet instead of apologizing as would be appropriate, he decided on continuing his interrogation.

“Why?” Illumi croaked, sounding a little bit broken. Hewasn’t able to speak any more, still baffled at your statement.

To ever think you could caught him off guard with such a simple sentence - but even through his poker face, you could feel his mind racing.

You sighed quietly, nervously tapping with your foot. “Do I really need to repeat that? It’s embarassing...”

No answer. Instead he stared you down even more intense.

“I like you, Lumi. This is my home, and I feel happy when I’m with you. Simple as that.”

Finally, he gave in to his exhaustion and took a seat on the sofa, with you following him closely after.

No matter what might follow, right now he needed some time. That much was obviously. So you just try to share your calming aura in silence.

You knew that puzzled expression way too well.

He’d put it on whenever something went past his comprehension, like when you once asked him about thinks he enjoyed or his dreams for the future.

“You look so sad...” you had once commented at an old photo of his. If you had to guess, he was about 4 years old at the time it was taken.

“Dunno” he tried to avoid further conversation back then, “Can’t remember.”

Just how often did you want to tell him that it was wrong? That his parents - no, his whole family - was full of sociopaths, and that they had stained his innocence through their wrongdoings and overeagerness?

And yet you had always kept quiet in the end.

Because you knew what it meant to him. The last bit of his sanity would probably break down if he knew all of the pain he had endured was wrong and abnormal.

Yes, their bonds were sure strange ones: They manipulated and harmed each other, all for the sake of the greater goal and the continuation of their bloodline.

That was probably how criminals beyond redemption desperately try to cling to their last bit of humanity - through the only people they can trust and be close to: Other murderers.

But at least you wanted to make him learn how to feele truly loved: For what he really was, and not only his obedience or achievements.

Right now, however, his elbows were resting on his knees, he was bent over and holding his chin with his hands. That position made it even harder for you to read him.

“I trust you with my life” you said without the slightest hint of hesitation in your voice. “It belongs to you ever since the day we married.”

Illumi cocked his head upwards, empty orbs staring holes into you. 

“They think I’m a monster.”

Huh?

Usually, Illumi isn’t really a man of many words. That fact should change tonight.

“I heared them talk” he began explaining as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “About regretting training me so harshly. I was their first child, more like an experiment at how to raise an even more powerful assassin.”

You nodded in silence, trying to signalize him that you were listening - and that you cared.

So he kept on. “I’m the reason my brothers were allowed more freedom. Having the right to feel and think on their own. And now Killua has left us. If I hadn’t been a failure, they would’ve trained him stricter.”

He blamed himself, thinking he was responsible for being a failed experiment.

Dear god.

“Mother said she’s afraid of me. I was 10. Everyone else at the family at least bear certain, acceptable emotions. She said I’m dead on the inside and it freaked her out.”

Every single word of him shot needles into your heart, tears already filling the rim of your eyes. You grabbed the fabric tight, trying to hold yourself together for your sake. 

“Illumi...”

You knew from the very second that many things were haunting that poor man’s conscience - but what he had just confided was just hard to bear.

In an attempt to comfort him, you instinctively shuffled closer until there was no gap between the two of you. It was an awkward closeness, but soothing nonetheless.

“It’s okay” he spoke in a tone that was unfamiliar soft for his standarts. “I understand how you all feel. I may not be able to emphasize with any feelings, but I can intelectually comprehend them.”

“Now cut it out!” This time it was you disrupting him, through a soft poke on his already injured shoulder.

"That’s bullshit and you know it. No person is absent of all emotions. You just shoved them into the back of your head and tried to surpress them. With your kind of childhood that was probably the only way to survive without completely losing it.”

His eyes shifted between your face and the place where your shoulders would touch, soaking every word like a dry sponge.

“And you do care about your family, right?” Well, how couldn’t he? It was the only way of mimicking normalcy he could pretend to have. “You’d do anything to keep them safe.”

“I just don’t get it” he murmured as you softly caressed his hand. “My allies are usually also mass murderers and psychopaths. But you are almost perfectly normal.”

Normal? You were an assassin too, goddamn it!

“Most would describe you as a very kind and sympathetic person. You should despise or at least fear me. They all do.”

“Not everything has to be logical, Lumi. I don’t think it makes sense either, but I also doubt that you’re a bad person. You’re much more of a victim.”

“Is that so...” That question sounded more like he was highly doubting it.

Just now you were realizing how slumped he was leaning back on the couch. That whole conversation had probably drained his energy reserves more than any mission ever could.

“Rest now, dear.” Carefully, without alerting him, you wrapped your arm around Illumi’s head and gently led him to your lap. “We can talk later.”

Much to your surprise, your husband would slowly close his eyes, swiftly drifting into sleep at hearing the steady beating of your heart.

“I’m sorry for frightening you, Y/N” he whispered those last words barely audible, fingers squeezing the flesh of your thigh ever so slightly.

“You didn’t. You never do.”

___

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[busylickingsatansballs]

All I've ever done is hide

Y/N Swan x Leah Clear water (platonic) x slight Seth maybe

Plot: Reader was turned into a 'child of the moon' and shows Leah that they may have more in common than she thinks. (This is dumb I'm sorry)

A/N: Warning!! there might be swearwords.

You'd been looking for Leah all night, you weren't exactly friends but close enough. You both seemed to bond through the pain of having no say in a world set out to hurt you. Life was a real bitch sometimes.

You knew you didn't want to go to this party the second Charlie told you he had an invite, but he insisted claiming he was giving you the chance to “make some more friends, get out of the damn house”. It was a bonfire on the reservation how were you supposed to make friends here?  you were far from ignorant knowing and being part of the supernatural had that effect, sometimes you envied who you used to be. The bold risk taker who camped in the woods ignoring her father warnings of 'bears' and although he was wrong about what, something had managed to sink it's teeth into you.  White hot pain is all you remember after that. The burning, aching  and itching under your skin that drove you mad almost sending you feral. Snapping back you shake your head as if that could make the bad thoughts literally fall out of your head. You were close with the Clearwater's growing up but life got in the way sometimes, you'd reconnected with them not long back, Seth & Sue welcomed you in with open arms, which was great although you suspect Seth had a slight crush. Which was sweet, he was harmless so you didn't mind his eagerness to be near you or his slight overprotective nature at times. It was adorable no he was adorable.   Leah was proving to be a challenge though. She wasn't exactly rude just cold and abrasive, whenever you tried to get close she closed up or offered a snarky comment about 'minding your own business.'  You sulked quietly by the fire as your dad flirted not so smoothly with Sue Clearwater, not that Sue seemed to mind. Your eyes briefly catch the form of a brooding Leah seemed to be having a whisper argument with one of the pack members imprints, you forget which.  You can't hep but think she looks angrier than usual which can't be good. Tilting your head slightly, you brush your hair behind your ear and focus your hearing.  “you know damn well why I don't want to be here.” “Please Leah you promised you'd try.” “try!? all I ever do is try Emily maybe if you hadn't-” Oh that must be the cousin Sam had left her for. Man that's rough.

The loud cheers as someone brings out food cut off your focus sending your senses into overdrive as the conversation is lost somewhere in the commotion. When you look back Leah is walking off towards a more secluded part of the beach.  You weren't completely in the dark. You knew the stories of what had happened between Sam, Leah and Emily. He may have imprinted but there were other ways to go about it, sometimes you catch yourself thinking what happened to Emily's face was part of his punishment. You decide to follow Leah down to the secluded part of the beach hoping to catch up with her, you avoid eye contact with various pack members and imprints keeping your gaze solely on Leah. Your gaze catches Seth's and you give him your warmest smile before looking away missing the way the tips of his ears turned pink. You're finally far away enough from the fire that you notice the immediate change in warmth and atmosphere, it was dark and if you were human you'd have definitely tripped. You come short about 30 steps away and you suddenly become aware that you had no idea what you were even going to say to the girl. Your stomach twists uncomfortably as your eyes focus on Leah, she's sitting in the sand facing away as she stares at the ocean. Well you think she has her eyes open but you can't be sure. “You followed me.” she starts, you let out a shaky breath, up until now you weren't even sure she knew you were there.Of course she did shes a shape shifter The wind makes the waves sound meaner, harsher as the crash against the rocks in the distance, she doesn't turn to look at you. “I'm sorry.” you offer, for what you aren't sure. Leah rarely talked about her feelings but something felt different now maybe this was your only chance to catch her with her guard lower than usual “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you grimace at how cliche you sound.  “Why?” she asks. “because I care.” you offer which only causes her to scoff in reply, it stings a bit you're not gonna tell her that though. ”I know what it's like Leah how much it hurts.” Leah whips round so harshly you're surprised she hasn't broken anything, her eyes narrow as she fixes you with a glare worthy of the gods. ”You, understand what it's like to have your fiance dump you for your cousin  and have them parade their relationship right in front of you and everyone just expects you to move on and be happy for them! Whist you stay the sad pathetic ex girlfriend he can't get away from? Y/N how could you possibly understand what this feels like?” 

You step back in shock as Leah stands to full height close enough that you think you see her trembling slightly, from anger of pain you're not sure, you mull over her words dissecting and choosing your next few words carefully, even though she was shouting she was still opening up and even though you'd have preferred less hostility, with Leah you would take what you could get. “I understand what he did to you, how much he hurt you.” Leah seemed to stop breathing and if you wasn't so intent on getting her to open up you might have chickened out. “because I know that you know how it feels when someone hurts you so bad that you can never...” You wipe your face wind making the tears on your face sting. “You can never be the same and it's worse because you can't do anything and because you can't change it people just expect you to be over it.”

Leah's face softens as she looks at you with something like affection on her perfect features “Look I can't even imagine how painful this is for you I'm not here to make it worse for you.” you take a few steps closer noticing that she's stopped shaking.  “I just want you to let me in, I get that things are different now but I still really care about you and I know it won't happen over night but I'd really like us to be friends again.” 

“I will never be over it. I am angry, bitter and exhausted, I am so full of resentment towards them sometimes I can't breathe Y/N.” a single tear drops down her cheek “I don't want to be those things anymore,  I don't want to be alone” she whispers 

You walk towards her “You're not alone, not if you don't want to be.” to your surprise she hugs you, skin burning hot against yours as you press yourself closer finally enjoying each others presence. Maybe you still had a long way to go but this was a start and for now you were happy with that.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Leave a Piece of You Behind

Summary: Every time Hohenheim uses his alchemy he uses up the souls inside, leaving an emotional imprint on the world. 

He always swore he would never use it on Trisha, but one day, it’s unavoidable. As the souls make her whole again, it forges a strange bond between her and Hohenheim. It’s not quite telepathy, not quite empathy, not quite sympathy, but it’s something, and it will change the course of their lives forever and shape the future to come.

(Or: Trisha lives - twice over - and when Hohenheim returns after ten years on the road trying to defeat Homunculus, he returns to the family and home he was expecting to find.)

Rated: T

Content warnings: Childbirth complications and childbirth-associated gore. Very sick child. (He gets better!)

=

Leave a Piece of You Behind

1899

When Hohenheim first told Trisha his story, he made a promise to himself that he would never use his alchemy on her, and she laughed and told him not to make promises he can’t keep. For all he doesn’t want to taint her with what he is, for all his immeasurable raw power, he can’t possibly see the future and there might come a day when there’ll be an impossible choice, and alchemy is what he’ll choose.

Today is that day. Hohenheim knew it long before Pinako and Yuriy showed up and shooed him out of the room. Trisha’s water broke in the early hours, a good five weeks before she’s due, and there was bright red blood in the glossy fluid. She’s been crying with pain ever since, and he’s been pacing the corridor from the nursery to the bedroom door and back again, listening to Trisha’s voice get smaller and quieter, and Yuriy’s and Pinako’s get more and more concerned.

“It’s an abruption,” he hears Yuriy say. “We need to operate if we stand any chance of saving either of them.”

No. Not on Hohenheim’s watch. Not when he knows he can save both of them. Not when the midwives and doctors resident in his veins are already telling him what needs to be done, and the others are calculating how much will need to be expended to secure both Trisha and the baby’s lives.

He opens the bedroom door, and Pinako tries to shove him back out.

“Hohenheim, you really can’t be here.”

“She’s my wife and she’s having our baby and I know they’re both dying, Pinako, so let me in and let me do what I can do.”

Although Pinako trusts him as a person, she’s never quite trusted his strange and intensely powerful alchemy, but she steps aside and allows him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much blood; the bed is drenched in scarlet.

Trisha is pale and cold and clammy, her breathing coming in shallow pants.

“The placenta’s come away from the womb lining too early,” Yuriy explains. “Trisha’s bleeding and the baby’s not getting any oxygen.”

Hohenheim nods his understanding and goes over to Trisha, squeezing her hand.

“Trisha? Love, can you hear me?”

“Hey, Van.” Her voice is soft, slurring and mumbling over the words, but it’s still there. That’s all he needs.

“Trisha, this will hurt, but I’ll make it better. I promise.”

She nods weakly and Hohenheim gets to work, ignoring Yuriy’s strangled bark of shock as Trisha’s abdomen slices open under his touch and he reaches in with red sparks flying off his fingers, finding the baby’s head and pulling him out.

Immediately Pinako is there to take him, level-headed and unperturbed by the whole thing as always, and Hohenheim can stop the bleeding, knitting layers of ripped flesh back together again until the entry wound is closed and there’s not even the slightest scar to show for it. Yuriy has since regained his momentum and steps in to make sure Trisha’s all right.

Hohenheim turns his attention to Pinako and the blue, unmoving bundle in her arms that she’s trying to get to take his first breath.

“Come on, Edward.” They decided on Edward for a boy months ago. Trisha had been so convinced she was having a boy that they hadn’t even discussed girls’ names. He presses his palm over his son’s chest, so tiny in comparison. The alchemy sparks again, and there’s a chorus of voices almost singing through his veins, encouraging the baby to breathe. It’s so strong Hohenheim slips into Xerxian along with them. “Breathe, Edward. Breathe, my little golden one.”

Edward finally takes a massive gulp of air and starts screaming loud enough to wake the dead, and everyone in the room bursts out laughing with sheer relief.

Pinako hands Edward over to him and his tiny flailing fist catches Hohenheim’s finger in a surprisingly strong grip for someone so incredibly small.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he says softly, but, although it breaks his heart to do it, he stops short of saying I promise. After all, he’s immortal and Edward isn’t, and today has already taught him the futility of making promises he can’t keep.

X

1904

Ever since the day that Ed was born and Hohenheim plunged his hands into her to save them both, Trisha has been oddly… aware of him. Even when he’s not there with her, she can still just about feel him in the back of her mind.

It’s not telepathy, not really, just a feeling, an impression, all very nebulous and no-one would believe her if she told them. Well, no-one apart from the boys, and even then, Ed is a born cynic. Just a feeling, nothing concrete, but it’s always been a nice reassurance, knowing that he’s still around and still all right.

In these last few months since he’s been gone, it’s been even more so. She knows that wherever he is, he’s all right, and he misses them all, and that’s all she needs to know. He’s safe, and he’ll come back to the boys when he’s done doing whatever it is that he has to do. He promised, and she’s told him before about making promises he can’t keep.

It’s just such a shame she made one of her own. She coughs wetly, but it does nothing to clear her aching chest.

I’m sorry, darling. I made a promise I couldn’t keep. I have to leave you first. Just be sure you keep yours and come back to the boys, all right?

Time’s been standing still with day and night blending into one for a couple of weeks now, and Trisha has no idea how many hours have gone by when she hears the gentle whisper of a familiar voice in her ear.

“Trisha? Love, can you hear me?”

“Hey, Van.” She just hopes he can hear her in return. Her voice is so small these days. She wonders if he’s really here or if this is some kind of feverish hallucination her brain’s conjured up to comfort her in her final moments.

“Trisha, this will hurt, but I’ll make it better, I promise.”

“You said that when Ed was born.”

He laughs softly. “I kept my promise though, didn’t I?”

She nods. There’s a piercing pain in her chest and she feels the lightning shock of alchemy course through her veins. It leaves her exhausted, every muscle pounding like she’s just run across the great desert to Xing, but her chest is clear, and she can feel that the illness is gone.

“There. Now you can keep yours, too.”

He squeezes her hand, and Trisha finally opens her eyes to see if he’s real.

He’s dishevelled and worse for wear from the horrible weather outside – his hair’s dripping on the blankets – but he’s definitely there.

“You came back.”

“I could tell something wasn’t right.”

That odd awareness must go both ways. Just as she’s been reassured knowing he’s been all right, Hohenheim has known she’s not been all right and he has not been at all reassured.

“How long can you stay?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to go again. I won’t put the boys through watching me leave again. Best if they think I was never here, and you got better by providence.” His voice is cracking, and Trisha can tell how much it’s breaking his heart to go again. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Trisha doesn’t chide him about promises he can’t keep this time.

He stays until she falls asleep, and when she wakes up, he’s vanished like a phantom. Outside the bedroom door, she can hear Ed and Al arguing, with Al swearing up and down that Dad was here last night and Ed countering that he couldn’t have been, because Dad left and Isn’t Coming Home.

“He is coming home,” Al says simply. “He promised.”

“Al, you dreamed it.”

“No, I didn’t! Dad was here, and I saw him, and he promised to come back! He even pinkie-promised!”

Trisha sighs. Best laid plans of mice and men and Hohenheims and all that. She sits up in bed and calls out to her sons.

“Ed? Al?”

They rush in, beaming to see her well again.

“I told you!” Al says. “Dad came back and made Mom better!”

Ed’s too relieved to argue the point.

X

1910

Al always remembers the night that Dad came back, even though Ed stubbornly maintains it was all a dream. Even now, six years later, he remembers those few minutes more clearly than anything.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to a shadow in the doorway, peering in to check on them. It doesn’t worry him. Since Mom’s been ill, the Rockbells often come over at all hours to give her medicine and they always look in on him and Ed too.

The shadow is too tall to be Granny Pinako, it has long hair tied back so it can’t be Uncle Yuriy, and the moonlight is reflecting off glasses, so it can’t be Aunt Sarah and it must be…

“Dad?”

The shadow retreats and the door closes.

“Dad?” Al looks over at Ed, but he’s still fast asleep, so it’s up to Al to be brave and investigate on his own. He climbs out of bed and goes over to the door. “Dad? Daddy?”

He reaches up to open the door and pokes his head out very carefully in case of monsters on the landing. There are no monsters, but Dad is sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

“Dad?”

Dad makes a weird noise that’s half groan, half laugh, and half cry, and he rubs his eyes, putting his glasses back on and looking at Al.

“I have to go.”

“Will you come back?”

“Yes.”

“Soon.”

Dad shakes his head.

“But you will come back?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“What?”

Al holds up his pinkie and takes Dad’s unresisting hand, unfolding his pinkie and hooking it together with his own. “Winry says a pinkie promise is magic. You can never break it.”

“I promise I’ll come back. Now, be good for Mom and go back to bed.”

Al knows it happened, and even though he’s now old enough to know that there’s nothing magic in pinkie promises, he still has faith that someday, Dad will come back. It’s the only thing that he and Ed argue about. Well, they argue about a lot of things, but this is the only argument that they can never resolve, and they can’t get Mom to resolve it for them, because Mom has never had any doubt that Dad is coming back too. She knows he’s all right; that he’s still out there and he hasn’t forgotten them. She doesn’t really know how she knows, but she does. It’s a feeling. Al’s content with that, but Ed’s the kind of person who needs hard proof, and he just doesn’t believe that Dad will ever come back.

Al’s faith is rewarded the year he turns ten. The year he gets sick. The year his body starts to waste away and vanish in front of him. The doctor says there’s some kind of poison in his blood, eating away at him from the inside out. He can see the outline of his bones through his skin in some places.

Mom can’t stop crying, and once, when she thinks he’s asleep, he hears her whispering from her chair.

“Van, please, you have to know that we’re not all right. It’s Alphonse. Please, wherever you are, we’re not all right. I need you. Please.”

Mom cries. Al sleeps. Ed gets angry because he can’t do anything, and this isn’t something he can fix with alchemy. He’s even more angry, because if he believes that Dad did come back that night to make Mom better, why hasn’t he come back now to make Al better?

“Alphonse? Can you hear me, little one?”

The voice is very soft but instantly recognisable.

“Dad?”

“Shh. The nurses can’t know I’m here.”

Al opens his eyes. Dad’s there in the early morning light, crouching beside the bed. Mom is asleep in her chair. Ed is curled up on the little cot in the corner of the room. He can hear the rest of the hospital waking up around them. Al smiles.

“You kept your promise.”

Dad gives a lacklustre smile. “I’ll need to make another. I don’t have much time and I have to go again soon. This might hurt. Be brave for me.”

He stands up, covering Al’s thin and bony hand with his much larger one.

“Close your eyes for me, Al.”

Al’s always known that Dad’s alchemy is different, because it sparks red instead of white or blue like his and Ed’s, and he does it with touch alone and no circle. It hurts like fire shooting through his entire body, something more powerful than he’s ever achieved, and although tears come to his eyes, he doesn’t cry out.

“There. That should do it.”

Al rubs away his tears and looks down at his arms. They’re still so thin they’re almost not there, but they feel stronger already. Dad’s making to move away, but Al grabs his hand tighter, and after an awkward moment, he gives in and sits on the bed.

“Is that what you did for Mom when she was sick?” he asks.

Dad nods.

“Can you teach me and Ed how to do it? You know. In case we need it.”

Dad shakes his head, and there’s something so incredibly sad in his expression. “No, this kind of alchemy can’t be taught. It’s something only I can do. It’s why I have to go away.”

“Are you saving other people?”

“Sort of. More making sure that they won’t need to be saved in the future. Now, you still need to sleep to get well.”

“You’ll be gone when I wake up.” He doesn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, just a reason why he doesn’t want to go to sleep.

“Yes.”

“You’ll come back though?”

“I promise.”

“Van?”

Mom’s voice is hoarse and croaky from so much crying. Dad gets up off the edge of the bed, giving Al’s hand a final squeeze, and he goes over to her. Mom just sobs against his chest, the silent, shaking sobs that are the worst of all for Al to see.

“I have to go,” Dad murmurs. “I’m sorry, it’s still not over yet. I have to go but I knew something wasn’t right.”

By the time Al wakes up again, Dad’s gone, Mom’s tears are happy tears, and Ed’s too happy that Al’s going to be ok to argue whether or not he slept through Dad’s whirlwind visit yet again.

X

1914

Ed has had to accept that since it has now happened twice, Dad has indeed come back.

He just wishes that he’d stick around long enough to say hi to Ed whenever he drops in.

It’s nice to know that he hasn’t forgotten them and that he still sort of cares, but if he has to be at death’s door in order to get a flying visit, then he’d rather not. Still, at least he has Mom and Al safe and well. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he’d lost either of them, or God forbid both of them.

He tries not to think about it, and instead he throws himself into his research. Mom’s always said she’s got a feeling that Dad’s ok, and since he healed Al, Al says he feels it too. It’s hard for either of them to describe the sensation, but Ed’s determined to get to the bottom of what it is. He’s never heard of a side-effect of alchemy like that, although that said, Mom’s always been able to feel it, not just since she got sick.

Maybe it’s a weird quirk that has nothing to do with alchemy and just got passed down Mom’s side, and Ed didn’t inherit it.

He’s fifteen when the truth finally comes to light. It’s a perfectly normal day and he and Al are tidying their room – Mom has said that it’s a death trap and considering the amount of paper and books strewn over the floor in the name of research, Ed can’t say that he completely disagrees.

Suddenly Al stops mid-sentence, brow furrowing.

“Al? Are you ok?”

“I think Dad’s back.”

Before Ed can reply, there’s the sound of crockery smashing on the kitchen floor, and they both rush downstairs. Considering Dad only comes back when someone’s ill, and the last time Mom was ill she ended up on the kitchen floor…

But Mom is fine. She’s racing out of the kitchen and out of the front door, jumping into Dad’s arms as he comes up the path. He staggers but catches her, and they stay like that for such a long time that Ed gets somewhat uncomfortable with the display of affection and goes back into the kitchen, drawing a transmutation circle on the table and beginning to fix the shattered plates.

He can hear Al’s excited chatter at the front door, and suddenly, Ed feels like an outsider. Unlike Al and Mom, he hasn’t seen Dad for ten years. His last memory of him is him leaving, with that incomprehensible cold look on his face making Ed wonder what he did wrong to make his father go away. Even though Mom has explained countless times over the years that Dad is away doing important work, and that he didn’t want to have to leave them, but it was inevitable, Ed still feels that resentment and abandonment.

He doesn’t share the same bond with Dad that Al and Mom do. He doesn’t begrudge them it, because he wouldn’t wish their horrific illnesses on his worst enemy, but there’s a part of him, deep inside, that still feels a little jealousy.

“Edward?”

He looks up to see Dad in the kitchen doorway.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m lucky I never got sick.”

“Edward…”

“It doesn’t matter. Welcome back, or whatever.”

He pushes past, leaving the house and ignoring Al yelling after him. He stomps around the neighbourhood trying to get his thoughts in order until it starts to get dark, whereupon he returns home and sits outside on the swing forlornly.

“Ed?”

Mom comes out of the house and sits down on the grass in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Talk to me, honey.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Ed admits. “I want to be angry at him for leaving, but I can’t because I know he came back when we really needed him, even if he didn’t stay. I want to think he didn’t care, but I know that he did. And I know that the only reason I’m feeling like this is because he never came back for me and I never saw him and I never experienced that care, but I can’t stop feeling it.”

He sighs, but Mom is as open and understanding as ever, and her soft smile prompts him to go on, knowing that there’s no judgement in her mind at all. “You three all have this weird bond that I don’t understand. I mean, even you don’t understand it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that he came back and made you better when you were sick. I know he saved your lives. I can’t say I’m jealous because I know what you went through, but…”

“You feel like the odd one out,” Trisha finishes for him. She squeezes his hands. “Even though you know it doesn’t make sense, you feel like he cares more about Al and me than he does about you.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s it.”

“It’s ok, I understand. So does Al. So does your father. And now that he’s back and doesn’t have to take off again in a couple of hours – a couple of days, maybe, but time enough – and now that you’re not five years old anymore, I’m going to make him tell you the full truth of what he’s been doing and why he’s been away so long. Maybe we should have talked about this more whilst you were growing up. I know that Al and I have always brushed this strange feeling that we have under the rug because we just can’t explain it, but I know how much it’s eaten away at you. I should have taken more of an interest in it. But the thing that always struck me is that you ought to be able to feel it too, you know.”

“I’ve never been sick.”

“Not that you remember, but your father did save you, like he did me and Al. Maybe you don’t feel it because you can’t remember. You were so, so little when it happened, you’d only just been born. You came early, you see, and there were complications. I was losing blood and you couldn’t breathe, and Dad had to break a promise he’d made to himself that he would never use his alchemy on us. He saved both of our lives that day.”

“Oh. I never knew.”

“I guess it never came up. But now you do know. Your father has always loved you, Edward, just as much as he loves me and your brother. Why don’t you come inside and let him tell you that for himself?”

When Dad next leaves, a couple of days later, off to put in place the final pieces of a puzzle ten years in the making to lead to a confrontation over four hundred years coming, he doesn’t vanish in silence whilst Ed’s asleep. There are hugs on the doorstep and pleas to be careful, and the three of them who remain behind watch him go long after he’s vanished out of sight down the hill.

Ed notes, somewhat ominously, that this time he didn’t promise that he would come back, not like he did to Al the previous two times.

X

1915

When the Promised Day comes, Ed and Al sit in the kitchen with Mom, watching the sky darken as the umbra begins to creep over.

“Is Dad ok?” Ed doesn’t know exactly how the connection works, none of them do, but right now he’ll take anything he can get in terms of reassurance.

“I think he’s all right for now.” Mom’s hands are shaking around her teacup as she speaks, and it’s that horrible for now that no-one wants to dwell on. Nothing more is said. What else is there to say?

Then everything goes dark, and everything becomes agony. Ed’s lost in a swirling vortex of pain, knowing Mom and Al are within touching distance, sitting at the table with him, but they’re so far away now, and some kind of instinct kicks in.

Dad! Dad! Help me!

Somewhere in the back of his mind, if he even has a mind anymore, Ed hears Dad’s voice speaking a language he’s never heard before but somehow still understands.

Breathe, Edward. Breathe, my little golden one.

He remembers Mom’s words from the day Dad came back to warn them about the Promised Day: You couldn’t breathe.

Breathe, Edward.

He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything. He feels like he’s living and dying at the same time.

“Hold on, Ed. Just a few more seconds. It’ll be all right. You’ll be all right. I promise.”

Dad’s voice is very faint and far away, but it’s clear as day in Ed’s ears and Dad’s never yet broken a promise he’s made to someone else. So Ed holds on, even as he feels like he’s being torn apart, because for all his tumultuous feelings towards his father, he trusts him to keep his promises.

It’s over.

For several minutes, Ed, Al and Mom just stay in the tightest hug there’s ever been, until finally, Ed speaks.

“Dad’s ok. I can feel it.”

Al and Mom smile, and he knows they both know the deeper meaning behind the words.

X

This time, when Hohenheim returns home to Resembool, it’s Ed and Al who drop everything and run out, taking an arm each before he collapses with sheer exhaustion. He sleeps almost solid for two days, only getting up to stumble to the bathroom or when Trisha forces a cup of tea into him.

She sits on the bed next to him, watching over him like he did when she was sick. He looks like he’s aged about ten years overnight, but she knows he’s all right. She can feel it. In the end, he kept that promise too – they’ll get to grow old together.

There’s a soft creak as the door opens and Ed pokes his head in. There’s a frown line furrowing his brows, and as Trisha beckons him in, there’s a hesitancy in his movements.

“Is everything ok, Ed?”

He nods, and for a long time he just looks at the lump of blankets currently masquerading as his father.

“Mom… When you said you could feel Dad in the back of your mind… Did you ever speak to him?”

“Just once. It was just before he came back to help Al. I was so desperate I was willing to try anything even though I knew that this odd connection wasn’t anything like telepathy. I mean, it must have worked in some respect because he knew that something was wrong enough to come back.”

“Oh.” Ed’s brow is still furrowed, and he comes and sits beside her, sinking onto the mattress slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“So… he didn’t respond or anything? I mean, Al said he’s tried talking to him loads of times, but it never really worked, and we figured it must be because he’s only had that connection for five years.”

“No. It’s not telepathy, honey, we could never chat to each other. It’s just a feeling.”

“Oh.”

“Ed? What’s up?”

“I spoke to him. When everything went terrible on the Promised Day. I just yelled for Dad, and he replied. I heard him. And that’s never happened for you or Al?”

“No, never.” Trisha smiles. “It took a long time coming, but it looks like the bond you two share is stronger than we ever could have imagined.”

She knows it’s going to take Ed a while to get to grips with this. After years of what could be termed radio silence, suddenly the connection is not only there, it’s deeper than hers and Al’s. She wonders what Hohenheim makes of it, whether it’s just as unexpected for him as it is for Ed. She wonders if he’s always been able to feel that Ed’s all right in the same way he’s been able to feel when she’s not all right.

Trisha puts an arm around her eldest and kisses the top of his head.

“You’ll get there, I promise.”

“Yeah. I guess we probably ought to hope that we don’t need to rely on this weird whatever-it-is in the future.”

Trisha has to agree with that summation. Hopefully, it’s all over now, and they’ll finally be together again and can know in person that they’re all ok.

X

1920

Trisha worries when Ed and Al head out, leaving home in search of adventures and alchemy in the East.

“They promised they’d come home safe,” Hohenheim reminds her. “And this family always keeps its promises.”

“I know, I know. But I’m their mother, I can’t help it. I worried about you when you were gone, too.”

Hohenheim just smiles. They’ll be all right. He can feel it.

[honestsycrets]

Forgotten Favourite | [ Lagertha x Reader, Ubbe x Reader ABO ]

❛ pairing | ubbe x reader, referenced!lagertha x reader and ragnar x reader and ragnar x lagertha x reader, lagertha x astrid

❛ type | triple shot [SFW this chp]

❛ summary | once upon a time, when things were simple, it wasn’t so difficult to keep Lagertha’s attention. Now that she has Astrid, that’s something else entirely. Maybe Ubbe can help.

❛  tags | ABO, Alpha!Ubbe, Alpha!Lagertha, Omega!Reader, Older Reader, Polygyny, some hallucinations but very minor, angst heavy, much sads reader, but maybe she can get back her voice, dub!con (this chapter has nothing too graphic), chasing, non-canon compliant.

❛ sy’s notes | “Shithead Ubbe” in action.

“Are you well?”

You looked into her eyes, steely and calm, and nodded. Your gaze fell back to the pool of mead between your clean fingertips, chewing on your lower lip. Her hand ran by the neatly woven braid that tumbled down your chest, imbued with gems she brought you from England, and they’re all pointless. If they no longer caught her attention, that was.

“Are you sure?”

“I must be tired, Astrid. I’ll go rest.”

“Should I come with you?” Astrid asked. “It’s…” her hand drops, hovering then at your stomach. “Unsafe.”

“No, no. Don’t strain yourself.” You quipped quickly. “She’ll be looking for you. It is only Kattegat, after all.”

You slipped outside of the Great Hall where a ravenous feast waged the night away on the back of barrels of ale and heaps of bread and fish. She was only a few crowds away discussing alliances with men that she’s earned the respect of being the single most important valkyrie with women like Torvi and Gunnhild. Women of the shield and sword; strong, sexy women like them.

Perhaps that was why she lost interest.

You were regretfully pathetic with a sword. In the world of the House of Lothbrok, you know that outside is not a place you can stay for long being so bad with sword, shield, and even your own fangs. Perhaps its curiosity that led you outside that night. Would she come find you after all these years? After moments turned to minutes, you exhale a cool breath of air.

The answer was plain.

You stepped away from the Great Hall and looked toward the pins with quiet fat piglets, illuminated by the forgiving full moon in the sky. The red hue indicates the start of the festival. Time for sex, drinks, and bond gifting. The mother squeals sound painful as they rutted against their mother for milk before their night’s end.

Your fingers ran across the mark upon your neck. There’s no fancy sigil there, no glowing golden marks, nor claims. Just… the knowledge and reminder of her scent, hurtling you toward a better time. The vastness of the memory is both wide and deep. It would consume you if you let it. It feels less of a bond and more of a distant memory.

“Is something on your mind?” you lifted your eyes from your prison of self-pity to look behind your shoulder. It’s as if the world comes into focus when you recognize him standing there-- Ragnar, his rugged face fading, smoothing-- and no, it’s not Ragnar. Not the man that would steal away in a moment to find you. That face is too smooth, too princely, entitled. It’s Ubbe. He stands a reminder of his father before him when things were easy and good-- and you mattered. He speaks. “You weren’t inside with Lagertha.”

“I didn’t take it anyone would notice.”

He gazes out toward the empty wooden homes, then back, training his eye upon your mutual bonded neck. Your fingers fall away from your neck. “Everyone notices when an omega goes missing.”

It gives you a moment of pause. In the bright moonlight, his long rolls of hair mimic Ragnar’s. Though they weren’t thick and there were no searing tattoos across the expanse of his pale skin. Not like Ragnar’s. How chiseled his body was, cut by scars his younger doppelganger lacked, the likes of the fishhook that dragged from his chest to his bicep. It pangs, strangely, and the memories with it.

And yes, in the heat of the night, under Lagertha’s comforting touch, how he used to sink into you thrust by thrust. You scanned Ubbe over, dragging the soft fur over your shoulders, and stand upright. “Your father told me that once.”

Ubbe’s slender lips pressed together-- firm on thoughts that you could never touch. He ignores the comment. “Come back inside.”  

It’s not a request. It’s an order. He must think that he has something over you to speak to you in such a way, flat and dry, but level in as many parts with commanding. He’s speaking to the wrong woman. Your eyebrows knit together.

“I am not going inside, Ubbe. I am tired of being a wallflower for one night.”

As dramatic as that knowledge was, it was a fact. You had put effort into looking like this, weaving the pearls, fluttering your lashes at her, the only beg for a night. You knew as well as she did that you wouldn’t beg. You were too proud. As was she.

“She’ll miss you.”

Your lip twitches. You look up to hold his gaze, when you can’t anymore because it’s too painful to tell him. Inevitably, you scoff and look at the band around your finger. “We are old enough to be without one another. She has Astrid.”

He grunts. Bent his head down with a small kick out of the rock under his leather boots. Then turning one way before another, he steps forward into your space. As a bonded omega, you instinctually lean away from him, though his arms are unoffending turned one over another, rather than raised against you. His breath is warm against the cool air of the night. “Then let me walk you to your cabin.”

You couldn’t shake him if you tried. You took the first step toward the dusty street that would lead you to your cabin when things had gotten too loud. Bjorn, Astrid, and Lagertha would undoubtedly drink and talk. Bjorn might venture off for sex. Astrid and Lagertha would go to bed together and-- you shook your head to the thought. Your earrings jangle with it.

“Is it an offer or a demand?”

“Maybe both,” Ubbe follows your quick steps with wide strokes. He’s a big man, perhaps bigger than Ragnar, reflecting his mother’s size. He’s like his father, and yet, nothing like him. His eyes share that same heavy shadow after you, but they lack Ragnar’s curiosity. Not in the absence of it, but the purity in which Ragnar was willing to learn.

“You’re approaching a heat. That is why you wanted to leave.”

You stop.

“Is this what--”

“Another strong scent. I thought you were barren. That’s what I’ve been told, after all.”

This then is the part where your lips part, unable to speak your truth. There’s something off-putting about the way he puts it. It isn’t that he’s necessarily off. In recent years, your heats had been coming with less frequency. Your hand feels itchy, fingers twitching, your words were growing in your mind, and failing to come off your tongue.

There’s nowhere to run.

“Ubbe--” you took a step back, then another, and Ubbe doesn’t mind. It excites him. His eyes are wide blown, rimmed with a blue that was clearer than the sea. He is strange. Most men would turn away from older women and yet-- he comes closer. “When was your last rut?”

“Why does that matter?”

He knows why it matters. You know why it matters. It was pure instinct for Ubbe to mate. It did not matter what Torvi or Margrethe said of the matter. You had only thought you were exempt-- given who your woman was. He feels huge compared to your body, illuminated only by the soft glint of the moonlight-- moonlight. It shone in the sky in brilliant disarray. It was a full traitorous moon.

Words fold on one another in your chest, rising and falling with renewed effort, as if to know what he was about to do. Your eyes make the mistake of latching upon his, delving into deep eye contact, one where his eyes look infinitely darker, and where you’re petrified to break it as if to know that the first one who released it would be the first one to act.

There’s something to be said for an old omega-- they know how to run, how to escape the advances of a drunk alpha, who caught a little bit too strong of a whiff of something he was never entitled to have. But, as alphas go-- once the scent was imprinted in their memory, they would never let it go. You know you don’t stand a chance at outrunning him. He’s too young, too spry, too ready. And you had just fallen headfirst into his trap of the perfectly calm carer.

You pivot your heels and run an omega’s run.

Her name is on your tongue like a chant, sobbing past the frustration of your woven sandals snatching sand through the alleyway. He’s not at all like Bjorn. Bjorn you can outrun, his shape isn’t made for long-distance runs. He’s heavy muscle and bad decisions. When you’re faced with someone like Ubbe, limber and quick, you know there is an issue.

It’s too easy for him to slam into longhouses. You scramble over the empty barrels of ale, scratching with desperate squeaks crying out to the stragglers on the streets for someone to hold him back. You fall on the other side of the barrels, catching your long skirts in bundles, and rush out the alleyway.

And it’s quiet.

Your head snaps down the alley where one sole barrel rolls on its side onto the ground. On the other side, it’s eerily still. The only noise is that of your chest rising and dropping to the tune of Kattegat’s rich ocean some great distance away. His scent is there, foggy and strong, seeping into your lungs in suffocating realization. It hits you all at once, connecting your back to an abandoned barn, where only slaves and pigs lived.

“Don’t move.” He’s so strong, pinning your hips to the barn, that you don’t realize how strongly he’s crushing you, ensuring you couldn’t run. Or think. Or cry out with his mouth fitted clasped over your neck. His gnashing fangs bite the fight out of your lungs, snapping time and again, and it hurts, but what can you do?

You sought something out— anything that is a bridge between reality and the teeth sinking into your neck. That encouraged the flow of your juices over your thighs and an undoubted excitement of the hunt. Instead, you’re so full of the rich, syrupy scent of a lover that reality melts like a pat of butter under summer day. It’s all Ubbe, flooding your nose, infesting your senses.

It hurts. And yet, it soothes the distant ache of your loneliness.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor

[twilightsagasworld]

Male (kraken) reader x Leah Clearwater

requested by @rexburn12

It was a stormy, black, and dreary night in Forks. No one was driving around town and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Forks wasn’t a place where storms weren’t common, they happened often, but there was something peculiar about this exact one that made the Cullen clan uneasy, something supernatural was behind this and it was something big. And the Cullen’s weren’t the only ones on edge, on the reservation the Quileute wolves shared fretted whispers and murmurs, no one could explain what was going on or what the cause behind this unease was, but everyone concurred that the supernatural was involved, in some way, shape or form.

“Well if it’s something supernatural, let’s kick it’s ass!”, “No, Emmett, not until we have an idea of what this is, we still don’t know where it is, that should be our main concern for now, it’s location” Carlisle explained, they were all gathered in his study, trying to come up with a plan and an explanation. Edward leaned against a shelf, “So what? We wait?”, Carlisle gave him a look, “There’s nothing else we can do, I’ve never seen this type of phenomenon”, the family shared a few concerned looks. The tension thickened when Bella’s phone rang, she answered, “Jake, what is it?”, the room was silent as Bella and Jacob exchanged words, but the call ended quick, Bella bit her lip, Carlisle frowned, “What is it Bella?”, Bella shook her head slightly, “Jake…they all think it’s coming from La Push”, “La Push is the nearest beach from here, the wolves think it’s there?” Edward asked, Bella nodded, “Jake said they’ve been getting a weird scent near the water when they got there”, “The wolves are at the beach now?”, “Yes”, Carlisle nodded, “Alright, hopefully they won’t be too mad, but we need to go there, it could be dangerous for them to encounter something without help” Carlisle spoke, the family nodded, “We need to hurry then” and with that, they left.

Leah was the second to arrive after Jacob at the beach, the storm was still going strong and rain was pouring hard. It didn’t take long for the rest of the shifters to arrive along with the Cullen’s. Leah sneered at them, their smell repulsed her and she could’ve gagged if they weren’t in a serious situation.

“Jacob, we hope you don’t mind, but we had to come, given the occasion” Carlisle shook Jacob’s hand, “Trust me, I’m almost glad you’re here, we don’t know what’s going on but we picked up a scent not too long ago, we don’t know what it is but we don’t like it”, Carlisle nodded, “Alright, we need a plan then”, Paul scoffed, “You don’t have a plan? Great”, Sam shut him up with a glare, but Carlisle didn’t seem to mind, “We’re as in the dark as you are, trust me”, Jacob sighed and clenched his jaw, “So what do we?” his tone was hard, but tense, Carlisle glanced at the water, “Our best bet is to go in, see what we can find and take it from there”, Jacob looked at him like he was crazy, “You’re not serious!” he fisted his hands into his hair, Seth stood beside his sister, “Leah, you think Jake is okay?”, Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, before giving her brother a look of disbelief, “What do you think Seth”, Seth shrugged, before mumbling a ‘sorry’, Leah shook her head, “Whatever bu- Leeches!”, Leah’s yell turned everyone’s attention to her, she pointed to the treeline, “Yeah, we smell them too, get rid of them!” Jacob ordered. The packs shifted and assumed a defensive stance while the Cullen’s did the same, in a matter of seconds a group of newborn’s ran at them, but just as they were about to clash something shot out of the water and slammed into the newborn’s, killing them. The force of the collision shook the ground beneath everyone’s feet as they stared in awe at what they saw.

There was a giant tentacle dragging the bodies into the water, and as they disappeared something else started emerging from the water’s surface. “I don’t believe it…” Carlisle’s voice was shaky, “What is it Carlisle?!” Emmett’s yelled, Carlisle turned to look at his son, “That’s the Kraken”, his words etched themselves into everyone’s minds as the beast finally appeared from the surface, a few snarls came from the wolves as they growled at the large figure, Carlisle shot the pack a warning look, “Don’t attack it!”, Sam let out a bark to order his pack back and Jacob followed suite, everyone’s attention was now on the Kraken. The beast let out a dangerous and low drawl, the sound blending in with the thunder above it, and then it spoke,

“Go away…or die” it’s voice was deep and scratchy, sending waves of fear and shock into the Cullen’s and the wolves. Carlisle spoke up, “Please, we don’t want any trouble, but you’ve seemed to cause a disturbance in the weather which drew our attention, I hope to come to an agreement, if you’re willing to listen!”, the Kraken let out a rumble, stretching it out and making it sound like it was contemplating something. It spoke again, “…I will listen…”, before Carlisle could say more the beast descended into the waves, the storm seemed to calm too, there wasn’t such heavy rain as before, instead it was a drizzle, and the thunder and strong winds died down to nothing but a breeze. Some of the wolves whined when nothing seemed to happen after a minute, everyone was being cautious.

The waves collapsed against the shore and a figure appeared from the aftermath. It was a man, young, but husky and tall, everything about him cried danger. But to Leah, her world seemed to stop, all of a sudden it didn’t feel like gravity was keeping her down, it was him. The man stopped a few feet away from both groups, his gaze locked with Leah’s, and he frowned, he felt peculiar, uneasy, fluttering in his body, and he didn’t know how to handle it, he determined the cause to be her, and so he marched towards the white wolf, ignoring the growls and tension that grew around him. He stopped two feet from her and held out his hand, and to everyone’s, and maybe even Leah’s own, surprise, she nuzzled it. The man’s face was unreadable and Carlisle kept a wary eye on him.

The man said nothing and turned away from the wolf and made way to Carlisle. Carlisle kept his face straight and his jaw tensed as the man stopped in front of him, “Greetings…”, the man sneered, and then scoffed, “(Y/n), but the humans call me the Kraken”, his voice was deep, smooth yet had an edge of a roughness to it, his voice fit his character perfectly Leah noted. Carlisle nodded, “I didn’t think the legends were true, seems I’ve been proven otherwise”, (y/n) crossed his arms, “Indeed, now what is it you want? You clearly are not human, I hear no heartbeat, nor the rushing of blood through veins”, Carlisle smiled, “Indeed we are not humans” he gestured towards his family, “We’re vampires, and those wolves are the protectors of the humans here, they are shapeshifters, able to morph from human to their current form. Now, what we need is some form of a treaty, we don’t need the humans to come looking for something that might kill them”, (Y/n) sighed, “Should I care? Because I don’t, the humans are of no concern to me”, Carlisle crossed his arms, “Well, I’m sure you don’t want them to try and seek you out? The humans do not understand the supernatural, they won’t leave you alone until they manage to get a piece of you to study and possibly experiment on, you won’t have peace”, a frown sketched itself onto (y/n)’s face, he stayed quiet for a moment before speaking, “I see…Well then, I shall remain hidden from the humans by staying in this form until I feel like changing back of course, I don’t need them meddling in my waters”, Carlisle nodded, “Good, and we’ll stay out of your way as well, you’ll need to form an agreement with the Quileute pack yourself, we stay out of each other’s ways, we formed a treaty long ago not to cross into their land you see, but I must thank you, I wasn’t expecting your co-operation” he held out his hand to shake, (y/n) looked at his hand, then to his face and back to his hand before shaking it. Without another word Carlisle gave Jacob a firm nod before disappearing with the other Cullen’s.

Leah watched closely as the man made his way over, Sam, in his wolf form, met him in the middle, letting out a growl. “I’ll stay off your land and you don’t bother me, deal?” the man smirked, Sam huffed in his face before giving a wolf form of a nod.

Everything after was a blur.

Leah found herself as the centre of teasing and comments about her imprinting. She hated the guys in Sam’s pack for not laying off her, many of them had yet to imprint and those who did seemed to only tease her the worst for it. It gave her headaches and she spent nearly all her time in her wolf form and away from the reservation. Her mind was centred around the man? Beast? Whatever it is. She didn’t want to confront him about it, because she was afraid he might kill her or not accept her at all. She wished the recent events were only dreams, but she couldn’t lie to herself, she had to accept it. She just didn’t know how she was going to talk to the man, and she wasn’t even sure she could have a future with him, he smelt like seaweed and the ocean, and she liked it.

Her mind being occupied distracted her from her surroundings, and she found herself wandering onto the beach of La Push, she wasn’t in her wolf form and the ocean breeze gently caressed her tan cheeks as she became aware of where she was. She was midway in turning back when she heard his voice, “You’re the white wolf who bonded to me” , he was sitting off to the side near a pile of drift wood, Leah cursed herself, nodding she answered, “Yes”, the man nodded, he was staring intently and curiously at her, “Come sit beside me, let us find out more about each other then, you intrigue me”, Leah’s feet moved on their own accord and soon she was sat beside him telling him things about herself.

And this was how it went on for months, them sharing stories and adventures, learning about the others life and so on, it gave Leah a warm feeling she hadn’t felt since before Sam left her, she clung to it, she wasn’t about to let it go that easily. Not now that she finally imprinted. Now she could start living.

[delimeful]

WIBAR Intermission: Cultural Differences

a commission for @secretlypansexualmango !! thank you so much for your patience with me during this difficult time, I hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing it! :)

if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first story on tumblr here and the ao3 collection here! 

warnings: anxiety, tense discussion, mention of nonconsensual drug use, medical experimentation, mention of child abuse, dehumanizing language, flashbacks, PTSD

-

Logan paced back and forth along his floor, hands strumming the air but not noting any particular information, just… moving. A nervous tic that he’d recently been struggling to repress around Virgil. 

Speaking of.

“Patton, you are certain that Virgil will not wonder where you are and come to investigate?” he asked, turning on the balls of his feet to face the little Ampen. 

“Yep, I showed him how to use the tech in the washroom and he said something about staying in there all day. Turns out Humans need water to clean, not dirt!” Patton tapped his fingers together consideringly. “Now I feel kind of bad about trying to get him to dust more often, no wonder he’s all grimy.” 

Logan forced his hands to still so he wouldn’t record the information. That was the whole reason they were here, after all. 

“Why are you so worried about the Human finding us huddling in your bedspace like a bunch of giggling adolescents?” Roman asked, adjusting his armor plates slightly so they didn’t pinch. He perked up for a moment. “Are we finally kicking him out?” 

Patton frowned in disapproval at him, and he averted his eyes. “Joking! Just joking, Pat.” 

Logan hummed lightly to recall their attention. “I am seeking advice in regards to the Human— or, Virgil, rather, but I don’t want to offend him or give him the wrong idea by openly excluding him from a conversation. Hence, covert gathering.” 

Patton brightened— literally, his feathers aglow with excitement. “Oh, why didn’t you say so, Lo!” 

Roman sunk further down, a grumble forming in his chest. “Yeah, why didn’t you say so. I don’t think I’ve got much to contribute about him compared to Patton.” 

Logan inclined his head slightly in a Crav’n gesture to hold on for a little longer. “While I will admit that you have very different opinions on Virgil, I value both your perspectives equally and as such, would like to hear your honest thoughts on my query.”

Roman didn’t shift, but the grumble eased slightly, placated by Logan’s words. “Alright, what is it?”

Patton nodded encouragingly.“I’m all ears, kiddo! Feathears, that is!” 

Logan didn’t dignify the atrocious pun with a response beyond his face pinching slightly. “I’m sure you all remember the incident we had recently, with the... yawning.”

At the reminder, Patton winced and Roman glowered. 

Virgil had joined them for breakfast again the prior light cycle, a rare occurrence, and had nearly startled Logan out of his seat when he had stretched his jaw unnaturally wide with a crack, apropos of nothing. Patton had hurried to reassure them it was normal, and very much harmless, but it hadn’t prevented Roman from looking visibly on edge for the rest of the morning. Virgil had fled to his room early as a result.  

“I believe that it would be beneficial for all of us to learn more about Human culture, and while I have scoured many texts for information, most of it has proven to be inaccurate or downright offensive. As a result, I’ve decided that I should attempt to ask Virgil directly to share,” Logan nervously fluttered his hands. “Ideally through a Vidi.” 

Patton, who had gotten all fluffed up during his explanation, now paused slightly. “I think it’s a great idea for you to bond with Virgil, Lo! I’m not sure he’d be too keen on sharing minds, though. The idea seemed to make him nervous.” 

Roman snorted.

“Yes, I predicted as much.” Logan gestured between the two of them. “Hence why I have gathered you to receive insight on how best to go about gaining his permission.” 

His two closest friends shared a look, Patton having to crane his neck up considerably to do so. The Ampen piped up first.

“I say you should just ask him! What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Beside him, Roman made a gesture to ward off bad luck, muttering about inviting chaos. Logan held a hand to his face to ward off any headaches. 

“He could say no,” he emphasized, pointing out the obvious flaw. 

“That is not the worst that could happen. And anyways, if he says no, it’s not the end of the universe. You can still make a valiant effort to convince him after the fact. Write a 20 page dissertation on all the reasons he should give it a shot, or bargain with jam, or any other nerd stuff. But if you try to go behind his back--”  

“He’ll never trust you again,” Patton completed, antennae lowering at the thought. “Virgil is slow to trust, and for good reason. I know you of all people can understand that, Logan.” 

“Actually, I was going to finish that with ‘you might never get a second chance to Vidi with anyone, because you’ll be dead.’ Humans don’t take lightly to intrusion,” Roman clenched his hands, gaze dark.

Patton drooped more, like he was attempting to become a puddle of sad Ampen. “I know you two aren’t as familiar with Virgil as I am, but… I’m telling you, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He’s probably even more scared of you than you are of him.”

“I am not scared of a Human,” Roman insisted, scales rattling in offense. “And anyhow, we aren’t talking about a little fuzzy pollinator from a flora planet, we’re talking about a Human. A deathworlder. I know he was merciful to you, Pat, and I’m glad, but that doesn’t mean we can trust him to go against his nature. The way he acts, the look in his eye… I’ve seen it before. So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe for a second that he’s harmless.”  

“Roman--!” Patton stopped short as the Crav’on rose to his feet and stormed out in a huff, dramatic as always. The small alien let out a frustrated trill, tugging on his antennae for a second before turning back to Logan.

“I never said that he was harmless,” he announced pointedly. “None of us are harmless, not even me. But just because he’s got the… the potential to be dangerous doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give him a chance. Try asking him about the Vidi, Lo, and if that doesn’t work out I’ll help you think of more options, okay?”

Frankly, Logan had been hoping for something more along the lines of a guide he could follow while striking a deal with Virgil, but he nodded anyhow. Sometimes researchers simply had to work with what little they had.

-

He spent the next few light cycles calculating the encounter, from his words to all the possible outcomes. He had plenty of time to consider such things, seeing as Virgil was particularly adept at avoiding him. 

Though the Human was subtle about it, it was hard to miss the way he found an excuse to leave any room Logan was in more often than not. Even when he couldn’t make a hasty escape-- most often because Patton was sleeping on his person-- he was always following Logan’s movements from the corner of his vision. Tracking him. It was… nerve-wracking. 

Logan was much more than a creature of instinct, though, and so he persisted despite the occasional shiver sent down his spine. 

When he finally managed to get the Human alone, however, it happened completely unintentionally. He was fixing a middark snack before sleep, and had just put the jam back in the coolant box when a vague emotional pulse nearby made his skin prickle. 

He paused. Neither of his shipmates would be so quiet while nearby, so… He squinted into the dim hallways, searching for movement. “Virgil?” 

“Uh,” said the Human, from on top of the cabinets how had he even gotten up there— “Hey.” 

Logan was suddenly thankful for his dulled physical response, since it prevented him from doing something embarrassing like jumping out of his carapace. “Hello. Might I inquire— May I ask why you are all the way up there?” 

The vague shadow that was Virgil shifted slightly, before dropping to the floor with a muted thump that shook the ground. Logan hoped that he hadn’t left any imprints in the floor paneling; Roman would have a fit.

“Just, uh. Just felt like it,” he answered, avoiding Logan’s gaze. “I’ll get out of your way.” 

“Wait, please,” Logan blurted, and to his surprise Virgil paused mid step. He quickly pulled himself onto a nearby stool, both so he could meet the Human’s eyes better and leave an exit available, seeing as a cornered Human was not one he wanted to deal with. “I had something I wanted to discuss with you, if that’s alright. Nothing bad, simply a request.” 

Despite his attempt to be soothing, Virgil’s shoulders only seemed to rise further, a defensive gesture according to Patton. Logan attempted to look as non-threatening as possible. 

“And what if it’s not alright?” Virgil challenged, voice low and rough as he glanced towards the hall entryway. 

Logan folded his lower hands in his lap carefully, his words measured. “Then I shall ask again another time. It is late, after all. I don’t want to keep you from sleeping.” 

Virgil made a half-exhale of amusement, or maybe resignation. Logan suspected it was because tonight was one of the nights Patton slept with him and Roman, nights that Logan suspected the Human often got little to no sleep. It was a concern to bring up at another time. 

“Okay, fine, discuss away. But I reserve the right to leave any time.” 

Logan blinked a few times, almost surprised that Virgil had actually agreed. He tapped his fingers together nervously— now came the difficult part. “My request is in regards to the incident at morning meal yesterday. Specifically, the misunderstanding about your ‘yawn’.” 

Virgil visibly hid a wince. “I already apologized for that.”

“Unnecessarily, I believe,” Logan said, causing Virgil to dart a glance at him in surprise. “You know as little about us as we know about you. It’s unreasonable to expect you not to make a few mistakes.” 

After a beat of stunned silence, Virgil shook his head slightly. “Try telling that to Roman,” he muttered. 

“I did, actually,” Logan said, frowning slightly at the recollection. “Surprising nobody, he didn’t want to listen.” 

“Wait, what?” Virgil asked, voice coming out a bit louder than before. “I thought you guys were like… cool. Uh, good. Friends.” 

Logan forced himself not to interrogate the Human on the slang, noting his embarrassment at fumbling. “We are, now. When I first came aboard the Mindscape, however, Roman and I fought constantly.”

“No. Really?”

“Yes. We were-- and still are-- very opinionated individuals. Stubborn,” he clarified, seeing Virgil struggle with the unfamiliar word. “Patton had to intervene in our bickering more often than not.”

“Huh,” Virgil uttered, curious. Logan was pleased to note that he’d relaxed slightly, and pressed on.    

“But that is a story for another time. My request is actually an attempt to help prevent such misunderstandings in the future. I would like to ask you about Human culture, in order to clear up common misconceptions and help me and the others recognize unfamiliar gestures or actions,” Logan ran the words through his mind, trying to see if he’d forgotten anything. “You’re free to say no, of course, I simply assumed that it would be easier for us all, but--” 

“Logan.” Virgil waited for him to glance up before continuing. “This is a lot. I’ll… I’ll think it over, alright?”

Logan nodded, enthusiastic to not be rejected outright. “Of course. In that case, I am going to head to my quarters to rest. Don’t hesitate to seek me out if you would like elaboration on anything.” 

The Human nodded, seeming deep in thought as Logan ducked his head in farewell and left. He could only hope that Virgil would be open to trying. 

-

The next light cycle, Virgil appeared quite suddenly at the entry to his lab, never crossing the threshold. 

“What are you going to do if I say no?” he asked, features clearer but also somehow harsher in the light. “Maybe I don’t want you to know anything about Humans, or me. What then?” 

Logan hurriedly set aside the samples he’d been comparing, pushing his thick inspection lenses up so he could see the Human properly. He took a moment to think over the question. “Roman suggested that I write a dissertation-- that is, a sort of argument to convince you-- if you refused outright, but seeing as you’ve had time to consider your options already… I will take your refusal at face value and not pester you about it any longer.” 

Virgil narrowed his eyes in a gesture that was most likely not an Ampen smile. “Just like that? Seriously?” 

“I am always serious,” Logan told him, very seriously. “Though I do encourage you to speak with Patton on other potential solutions not involving me--”

“I’ll do it.” 

“Pardon?” Logan asked, his ears twitching. Virgil raised his chin slightly, meeting Logan’s eyes solidly in challenge. 

“I’ll do it,” he repeated, and Logan noticed the way his hands shook slightly at his sides. He slowly placed his lenses onto the countertop, turning to face Virgil fully.

“Would it be preferable to talk in the common area?” he asked, spreading his hands to accentuate the question. “We are simply exchanging information, there’s no need to do it here.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, and then shoved his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance. “Sure, whatever.”

A short trek later, they were seated in the lounging area, Virgil a careful seat away. Logan had received permission to ‘take notes’ as the Human called it, and started off with questions that seemed simple enough.

Naturally, they immediately encountered problems. 

“So, you do actually keep canids in your home for defense purposes?” Logan asked, hands stalling. “Is that not dangerous? Do you train them to not recognize the home’s residents as threats? I was under the impression all of Earth’s fauna was relatively vicious in order to survive.” 

Virgil dragged a hand over his face. “I guess some people keep guard dogs, but most people just get them as like… companions. We take care of them and they live with us. We… ugh, I don’t know the word for it. We trained them to not be… angry? Wild? Way long ago.”

“Domestication,” Logan suggested, and then resisted a sigh when Virgil looked at him without comprehension. “Virgil, I would like to try something, if it’s alright with you. My species has the ability to link minds and share memories, referred to as a Vidi. It would allow us to bypass the language barrier and you could show me what life on Earth is like with far more clarity.” 

Virgil was already shaking his head. “I don’t want you poking around in my head. I don’t know how it works on your planet, but thoughts are personal on Earth.” 

“Nor on mine. I am not a mind reader,” Logan corrected wryly. “The Vidi is more like a form of shared thinking, and if you would like, I will take no part in paddling-- guiding where our thoughts take us. You will then have control over what you share and what you ask from me. Both Patton and Roman have linked with me in the past, and suffered no ill effects, if you are worried about cross-species Vidi.”

“Well, I am now,” Virgil muttered, and hunched his shoulders. “... Can I stop it?” 

“Yes. It may take a few moments, since the flow of thought is unpredictable, but I have never gotten stuck in a link,” Logan tilted his head slightly, offering a hand. “Do you want to try something simple to test it?” 

Virgil chewed on his lip for a click longer before reaching out and placing his own hand atop Logan’s.

Immediately, he was seeing from a different angle, different time, different eyes. The hall was dark, but he could see uncannily well in it, noting the outline of stairs in front of him. At the base of the stairs, a light illuminated a dog staring up at him pleadingly. An Australian Shepard, though he had no idea what that was.

“Zero, it’s three in the morning,” a familiar voice grumbled, Logan feeling echoes of the sound in his throat. The words were foreign, but he could understand the meaning. He observed the dog as the memory proceeded to stumble around the house and open a door to the night, releasing Zero into the yard. 

‘This is bizarrely immersive,’ Virgil commented as the memory’s gaze turned up to the stars. ‘Like a dream. But… not as weird as I thought it might be.’ The memory flickered to a cartoon alien for a moment before stabilizing again, and Logan graciously ignored the lapse. 

‘Just from this alone, I have a much better concept of dogs,’ he responded, his mental voice quite enthusiastic. ‘Can you show me the devices you mentioned earlier? The ones Humans ride for entertainment?’ 

‘Oh, yeah, roller coasters. That’s a good one.’

The world around them flickered, and then it was bright daylight streaming around them. The memory stepped forwards, leaving behind a line that had taken ages and climbing into a seat. Another human-- slightly older than Virgil, probably too old to be working this job-- stepped over and pushed the safety bar over the memory’s lap, locking them in securely.  

The ride started, and Logan’s stress levels increased along with the memory’s sense of anticipation, peaking as they hit the top of the tracks and began to topple. The memory of Virgil’s stomach dropping was well-preserved, and fear-excitement-glee surged through the memory as the scenery blurred by too fast to process. After a period of time that was both too-long and too-short, the ride came to a stop.

Virgil’s smug amusement was tangible as Logan struggled to form words. ‘Humans do that for fun, you said?’ 

‘Yep.’ 

‘... I get the feeling this is going to be a truly interesting mindshare.’

-

Several alarming concepts later, including coffee, sleep deprivation, gender roles, and babies’ soft skulls, Logan was itching to take some time to journal all his thoughts out and also have a brief respite from horrifying implications. 

Virgil snorted, which he had learned was a Human gesture of amusement rather than a Crav’n one of disdain. He visualized an image of Logan writing with all four hands in a book, and Logan responded with showing him the art form practiced back home, which involved exactly that. Drawing a full image at multiple points simultaneously was a honed skill for some Ulgorii. 

‘This has been quite illuminating, however I am hoping to end it here,’ Logan requested, pulling them back on track. 

Virgil hesitated for a moment, and then: ‘I want to check something. Really quick. I need to know.’ 

Logan had barely agreed when the scene shifted again, this memory tinged with haze around the edges. Physical sensation was dulled somewhat, but the cold metal underneath their back was a clear enough feeling. White walls above them, and aliens in thick bodysuits leaned over them. The memory was too fuzzy to recall what was being taken, but there was a sense of relief that it didn’t hurt. Not adrenaline, then. 

Above them, a couple of the harvesters spoke. Logan recognized Virgil’s intent too late to do anything to prevent it. He couldn’t simply stop understanding Common, after all. 

“Drain duty is so boring. You think it’d be entertaining with a Human, but no, all it does is lie here with those freaky dead eyes,” one complained. “Are they sure they didn’t accidentally grab a braindead one?” 

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been here for the Dren drain,” the other responded, voice morbidly fascinated. “Thing’s practically feral, the way it lashes out. I don’t envy the escorts who have to drag it back to its cage afterwards, even with the drugs.” 

“If it’s so beastly, why not just treat it like one? Put two together till they breed and train the baby to be less of a monster, same as we do with the troublesome creatures,” the harvester suggested, jabbing a claw at Virgil’s form. Logan felt sickened. ‘Virgil--’ 

“And risk them tearing each other apart? Humans are rare as is, there’s no way the Uppers would authorize something that might end with both dead.” The harvester took a few paces to the side, meeting the memory’s gaze with complete apathy. “Those scientists that have dibs on the body want it intact for dissection, or else we’re getting fuckall for the payment.”

The memory flickered, unstable, to an alien that only visited when they were doing the painful tests, wearing what Logan recognized as scholarly gear instead of the customary bodysuit. Virgil remembered they had snapped out words with one of the smugglers, numbers, prices, bargaining for his corpse-- 

Back to the little white room where they drained him, bit by bit. 

“It’s pretty sedate, considering,” A smuggler prodded him, to no response beyond a brief flicker of eyelids.

“Of course it is, we picked it up off the planet fresh. Stupid thing can’t understand a thing we’re saying, so what’s there to panic about?” 

The memory fractured, splitting into a thousand different fragments that flashed by with increasing speed-- panic attacks in his cell, unable to count the days he’d been locked in the too-small space, the ring, being hosed down like a rabid animal.

‘Logan,’ Virgil managed weakly, his grip on the Vidi loosening, ‘change it.’ 

In his alarm at Virgil’s condition, he practically yanked the share back to his own memories. He was too concerned to focus on what or where exactly he was remembering, until it had already snapped into clarity around them. He should have known better.

The memory was a mirror of Virgil’s, summoned by Logan’s automatic recall. His younger self sat on a sterile white counter, kicking his feet as around him, four machines worked to draw blood from each of his arms. He moved to shift the share again, but Virgil nudged him, distracted by the surprise. 

‘What… what is this?’ he asked, despite the fact that he was surely receiving information from the memory’s perspective as they spoke. 

Logan sighed, watching as a pleased doctor removed the equipment and shuffled him off to be escorted back to his room. ‘As I told you before, you are certainly not the only one to deal with trauma or flashbacks on this ship.’ 

“You promised me a new book,” the memory said with the voice of a child who had grown up too fast. “I sat quietly, so I get a new book, right?” 

“Of course, of course,” the doctor waved him off, already moving to bottle and package the blood to be sold. Ulgorian blood, which would make a fair amount of coin at market for its use as a paralyzing toxin. “Continue being such an obedient, quiet child and you will have any book you desire, Aconite.” 

Logan finally broke the Vidi off, opening his eyes as Virgil jolted sharply across from him. He studied the Human’s complexion for a moment, and then reached into the table drawer for a water jug. “Drink something. I believe you have experienced the beginnings of a panic attack during our share.” 

He held the water out patiently until Virgil took it, pulling back to give him space. “Though I had my suspicions, I now see why you reacted the way you did to my designation as a self-identified scientist.” 

Virgil laughed hoarsely, sipping at the water. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t know--” He cut himself off sharply. “You won’t do anything to me. Patton told me, and I think I knew it too, really. I was just... nervous. That you’d ask for more than I could give--”

“--or change the parameters before you could ever reach them,” Logan finished, lacing his fingers together in a wry Crav’n gesture. “There’s no need to apologize. I understand, as you now know.”   

“Sorry about that,” Virgil repeated. “I didn’t mean to peek at your trauma.” 

“Again, no need. It’s nothing I haven’t already come to terms with,” Logan said, and then offered him a few thumbs ups. “We are cool, as I believe the term is used.”

Virgil gave him a small grin, and Logan finally understood what Patton meant when he called Virgil’s teeth-bearing friendly. 

-

After a discussion on how PTSD affected the mind share, they settled for focusing on simply communicating through Common. It would be better for Virgil’s language growth, and reduce the amount of traumatic flashbacks they were both exposed to. If either of them got frustrated, they simply left off to discuss the matter another cycle.

This was how, a rotation later, Logan found himself enthusiastically quizzing a Human on his dietary habits.  

“I know that there are Humans who raise livestock, presumably for meat. Do Humans prefer raw meats or cooked ones? Or are there other ways to prepare animal flesh? Is it determined by individual preference?” 

Virgil waited patiently, ducking under one of Logan’s flapping hands as he moved to sit down. “We eat all kinds of stuff, Specs.” 

“Ah. Should we stock up on blood at our next port, then?”

A startled laugh, though Logan was only half-joking. “Okay, all kinds of stuff like plants and some minerals.” 

Logan made a note to correct his notes, again. “Another incorrect assumption... I was under the impression that human omnivorous tendencies were only for survival scenarios, similar to your ability to endure blood loss. Most texts say that humans are primarily carnivores.”  

“No, we’re pretty omnivorous.” Virgil shrugged. “Some people are vegetarian-- or, herbivores, I guess, but that’s a personal choice dependent on all sorts of things. We evolved to be omnivorous, we’ve got the flat teeth and the pointy ones, see?” He pulled a lip down to show his teeth, which were in fact thick and rounded in the back.

Logan half-lunged forwards, inspecting the inside of his mouth carefully. “You’re absolutely right! While you have the canines for biting and tearing meat off the bone, you also have molars for masticating tough plant matter! Oh, of course Humans don’t actually drink blood, there are evolutionary signifiers for such things and Human blood likely has little to none of the nutritional value that your body needs. Fascinating! Are these made of bone?” 

It was at this moment that Roman walked in. There was a pause in which Logan realized that at some point he had moved to stick most of his hand in Virgil’s mouth to better examine his dental structure. 

“Logan,” Roman started, deceivingly composed, “if you lose a finger by being a huge nerd, I am going to freak it.” 

Logan executed a ‘wink’ to Virgil before responding. “Not to worry, Human teeth are dull enough that they are only dangerous if significant jaw strength is applied. I do not believe Virgil will bite me. Correct?” 

“Uhn,” Virgil grunted in affirmation, spit starting to spill out of his mouth. Despite his reassurance, he looked vaguely uncomfortable with the situation. Logan hurriedly withdrew.

“Oh sure, you totally know he’s not going to bite you when he is literally drooling!” Roman howled, before turning on his heel and walking right back out of the commons. “I am too tired for this. Call me when you’re done being an insane scientist in our living room.” 

Virgil wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, voice sardonic. “Doesn’t he know by now that mad scientist is your permanent state of being?” 

“I have no idea why you would say such a thing. I am a perfectly calm and composed scientist,” Logan responded in a monotone, turning his nose up when Virgil started laughing. “How dare you imply otherwise. The indignity of it all. Woe is me.”

“That’s what you get for inviting a malicious human onboard,” Virgil snarked back, leaning back. “Too bad, you’ll regret it to the end of your days.” 

“No,” Logan answered with a wry twist of his lips, “I don’t think I will.”

[morganas-pendragons]

kiss me (for you’re all i ever wanted) | obi-wan

back by popular demand (seriously the amount of screaming you all did on the first part to this fic had me yelling) here’s part two of this fic - touch starved obi-wan - this got away from me i’m sorry (i’m really not)

anything in italics is either a. thoughts or b. talking across the bond (telepathically)

tag: @obiorbenkenobi​ // @dressed-up-heartbreak​ // @robertdownyjrs​

*** 

Force, what the kriff were you supposed to do now?! It wasn’t like you could just... walk into the quarters of another Jedi General and say, “Shall we continue what was going to be the hottest kiss of your life that was so rudely interrupted?” 

You silently pace the small length of your quarters, completely unaware of the fact that Ahsoka Tano is standing outside of your door and projecting the calm you seem to be unable to control at the moment. She’s extremely perceptive - one of the brightest of her class of apprentices - and has quite an eye for things that most people would be ignorant of. 

Case in point: Your very obvious attraction for Master Obi-Wan who had tried and failed spectacularly to hide how desperately he wanted to be with you. Here she’d been led to believe her grandmaster was the epitome of the perfect Jedi. 

Turns out he was just another hopeless fool in love. 

  “Master?” 

  “Force, Ahsoka- You can’t just sneak up on people like that!” 

Ahsoka frowns and motions to the door. “But.. oh, kriff it.” She jabbed her thumb back out into the hallway where you could just barely see the forms of clones rushing through The Negotiator. “You are aware of what just happened, right? It didn’t just slip from your mind?” 

  “Ahsoka-” 

  “Maker, you adults are thick.” She mutters. “Look.. the clones are retreating to their night duties which means this portion of the ship is mostly abandoned. Rex and Cody are keeping their vod occupied, Anakin is in the gym where I’m supposed to be meeting him, and Master Kenobi..” Your eyes snap back over to the young Togruta who beams the moment she realizes she caught your attention. “He’s in his quarters down the hall. Seems pretty wired. Would you-” 

  “I’ll check on him.” You reply and swiftly leave your quarters without so much as another glance back at the padawan. You do, however, see her little victory dance. 

True to her word, the clones are vacant from this part of the ship which leaves you lingering outside the door to Obi-Wan Kenobi’s quarter and wondering what on Earth you’re supposed to say when and if he opens the door. 

Your fingers hover over the keypad with the code on the forefront of your mind; That’s when you realize you might be the only person outside of Skywalker who knows the code into these quarters. 

The durasteel slides open with ease. On the floor sits a Jedi Master, hands poised against his knees and body set into the familiar meditation position. The sight of him so tranquil makes your blood boil. Is this what he does when he wants to forget how he asked you to kiss him? 

  “Obi-Wan.” 

No response. 

Pressing your lips together in a firm line, you shed your own robes by the hook next to the door and kneel down in front of him. Give his obvious ignorance to your presence you assume that he’s deep enough in meditation to notice you aren’t there. You can work with that. 

  “Obi-Wan..” Your voice echoes across your bond as your hands slide up his chest and smooth across his shoulders to remove the robes that hide his figure from your view. Warmth floods your cheeks as you catch the hitch in his breath, his body struggling to continue in his meditative state with the fire your hands ignite when they touch bare skin. “Kenobi... we have something to finish.” 

  “Force-” Blue eyes snap open and are blown wide when he realizes what you’re doing, and his hands very swiftly catch yours before you can continue. “What-What are you doing? You know better then to disrupt meditation when it’s in such a deep state!” 

  “It’s not like Skywalker hasn’t been interrupting you since he was nine.” You shoot back. “Anyway, why are you meditating? We just got back. Less then three hours ago. Meditation should be the last thing on your mind.” 

Unknown to you, you are the only thing on Obi-Wan’s mind. 

  “I was trying to calm myself. My actions on the ship were inappropriate-” 

  “No.” You snap. Your voice holds more anger then either of you realized you were feeling, and the sharpness of it makes him wince. “That might work with Anakin and Ahsoka. It might’ve worked with Satine. It does not work with me. You’re an open book. I know when the infamous Negotiator is lying to me. 

You can tell yourself until you believe it that you don’t want love. That you don’t want touch and you don’t want to be held. Here’s the truth of the matter, Obi-Wan. Despite The Code you seem to adhere to more then the majority of The Order, despite every instinct that fabricates the very essence of your being.. you’re a man. A man with a heart and who wants things. You said it yourself. You want me to touch you. So give into it.” 

You lean forward just enough to brush your lips against the shell of his ear, and you’re rewarded with a delightfully low groan that reverberates in the back of his throat as his hands find purchase against your hips. 

  “Give into your desires.” 

Cradling his face in your hands, you allow your legs to loosely wrap around his waist as he moves you right into his lap. The friction that creates alone is enough to make you blush. “Maker, please-” He breathes, low and hoarse against your mouth, as you hover only mere inches in front of him. “The temptation alone-” 

  “Obi-Wan.. what do you want?” You ask. 

  “You.” He says it so quickly that you know without a doubt it’s true. 

  “Then you have me.” 

There’s no one around to interrupt you now. 

Your hands make quick work of the tunic he often wears underneath his robes, deftly unlacing the knots that come together at the dip in his chest as he watches you through petrified blue eyes. It’s not hard to forget he’s never done this before. 

Fingertips trace over burn marks that are kept just out of sight beneath his neck line. You dip your head down just low enough to skim their ridges, and Obi-Wan goes slack in your embrace. 

  “Hero. Savior. Friend.” 

The Force is practically taunting him at this point. Here you sit in the darkness of his quarters, snugly pressed against his lap, your hands tracing his torso and your lips branding his skin. He’s pretty sure he’s entered the Cosmic Force. 

  “The Zygerians. My f-failure-” 

You shake your head. “Never.” You whisper. Your attention drifts back up to his eyes which remain blown despite the darkness that envelops you. “Not to me. Never to me.” Your eyes flicker between his own and his mouth as you move closer and closer and closer until you receive your prize, and The Force sings with praise at the motion. 

All the stars have aligned. Its chosen have come home to each other. 

You lightly rake your fingers through the beard that burns your hands as you move slowly, timidly, waiting for him to learn how to reciprocate before daring to go deeper. This isn’t about you. It’s about him. 

That’s when you feel it. His hands travel up your arms until they meet your nape and then his fingers thread into the knots of your hair, and you’re so awed by how easy he falls into you that you open your mouth wide to him, and Obi-Wan deepens the kiss. 

You forget how to breathe for a moment. 

Sh.. darling. I think I’ve taken you by surprise. His voice teases across your Bond as you pull away just enough to ease the heaving of your chest from the lack of breath. 

You did. 

Your fingertips trace the shape of his face. The sharpness of his cheeks that are hidden by thick auburn hair (let’s face it, he’s hotter with the beard), the outline of his nose, the shape of his eyes that flutter as he absorbs every touch you’ll give him. Your other hand is still spread out over his heart. It hasn’t moved. 

He wonders why. 

  “You overwork yourself.” You whisper. You almost sound sad about the fact he works himself to the bone and has for the entire war. “You take on more responsibilities then you should, you don’t sleep, I can barely get you to eat most of the time because your nose is buried in a data pad. Your vod are worried about you. I am worried about you. Let someone take care of you once, Obi-Wan.” 

His shoulders fall in defeat. 

  “Okay.” He whispers in reply. “Okay. Okay.” 

You hum beneath your breath and stand to your feet, extending your hand out to pull him with you. Obi-Wan complies without complaint and listens to the lull of your voice and how it feels like there’s a hidden Force suggestion in it. Just the sound alone is making his eyes heavy. 

  “Oh no. Not yet.” You lightly flick his shoulder as he sits on the cot and allows you to take his boots off. “You’re not going to sleep yet.” 

  “Didn’t you just say-” 

  “Oh no. That kiss you gave me was exquisite. Unfortunately, it means I now have to further test the waters.” You muse softly. He’s clearly confused and equally stunned by his own gasp when you flick your hand and the upper part of his torso is left bare to you. “Good. Now sit still, and keep quiet. You don’t want the boys to hear.” 

Hear what?

You part his legs just enough to settle yourself in his lap again. He’s leaning against the wall now, eyes narrowed as you bend your head to the column of his neck. His pulse is steady beneath your hand - amplified by his obvious fear - and you send a wave of calm across the Bond that makes his heartbeat slower. 

Your lips skim feverish skin until you find your mark - the one that makes his breath hitch when you touch it - and very, very slowly begin sucking on it. 

The way your core ignites at the groan he emits makes you dizzy. 

  “Force-Force-” He rasps through gritted teeth as his hands tighten on your hips so much you’re sure his fingers will leave imprints in your skin. “Maker-I-I-can’t-” 

Then your teeth drag across the mark, and he sees stars. 

 “Hm.” You somehow manage to start sucking harder and Obi-Wan is cursing in every language he’s fluent in to keep himself quiet. If you’d known that this was what it would take to get him to use that fabulous tongue of his- “The waters have been tested. You like hickies.” 

You pull away to examine your work. It stands out proudly against his skin. A mark that tells the people who see it that he belongs to someone. Sure.. you could theoretically use The Force to heal it.. but you don’t want to. You’re too smug about the sounds he made when you did. 

  “You know-” He rasps as you slip away before he can do anything, and Obi-Wan curses at how his limbs feel like they won’t sustain him. Kriff. “When-When I learn to do that, you will be the one getting tortured.” 

  “Oh, sure.” You retort as he lays on his side and opens his arms for you to lay in them. “How do you plan on doing that?” 

You’re so prideful that you don’t expect his next words,

  “Because I’ll mark you everywhere.” 

*** 

The next morning, Anakin and Ahsoka are standing at the end of the hall that hold the Generals Quarters. They both had a rather restful night sleep after practicing their hand to hand with the clones and their katas in the gym. You and Obi-Wan, however, did not. 

  “Okay Snips.” Anakin muses. “I’ll bet you fifty.” 

  “Fifty? Did you miss the part where I said I convinced her to go to his quarters?” 

The Jedi Knight laughs as his blue eyes flicker back down the hall where Obi-Wan exits his quarters and about two minutes later, your head pops out and you look up and down the hall to ensure no one saw you leave just after he did. 

  “No-” Ahsoka rasps, eyes bright with tears as she bends over in hysterical laughter. “You owe me a hundred credits and a dinner at Dex’s!” 

  “What the kark are you-” His eyes snap over to his former Master who is the definition of composed until Anakin sees the bright purple mark that’s just barely hidden underneath the fabric of his Jedi Robes. “Obi-Wan!” 

Rex, Cody and yourself stand by Ahsoka Tano as she once again lifts her data pad to record the altercation for future reference while following on the heels of her Master as The Hero With No Fear chases one of the most respectable Jedi in the Order all the way through The Negotiator. That is until Obi-Wan has the good sense to lock himself in a room where Anakin has no access. 

  “Kenobi, when I get this door open-”

  “Tell you what, ‘Soka.” You lightly bump hips with the Togruta and hold up your credit chit as Rex goes to calm his General. “When we get home, I’ll buy you dinner.” 

You buy her six. She likes to hear the gossip you have about her grandmaster. When you come home to The Temple and find Obi-Wan waiting for you in your quarters, he follows through on his promise of torture. 

He’s particularly skilled with his mouth, remember? 

[oldjane]

Blame Discord.

(I am not very up to date on A/B/O verse, but have this.)

“Joe, wait a minute!” Nicky calls, but Joe doesn’t stop. “What’s so urgent that we couldn’t even say goodbye to the others, gioia mia?”

Oh, those words.

As much as Joe resented them earlier, since he learned what they mean they send vibrations over his spine, and make his heart leap up in his throat.

Now, when he’s is already half-hard and more than just a bit wet, they just claw at him, make him even more desperate to get his mouth on Nicky’s, spread his legs wide for his mate and beg him to fuck him than he already was after he realized Nicky had never lied to him about his previous experience.

Oh, Joe should have known, obviously. As soon as they bonded the second time – truly bonded – he has sensed nothing but absolute adoration from Nicky. He’s sensed Nicky’s overwhelming relief when he realized he was finally allowed to love Joe with everything in him, and Joe had struggled with grief and guilt for not letting Nicky in sooner, for burying himself in resentment and anger and making his mate suffer. Nicky – kind, soft, gentle Nicky, with a heart too big for this world – had forgiven him within seconds, but Joe still felt bad about it.

And today’s meeting – god. Nicky telling everybody with such earnestness about the research he did. About how he had to search for resources focusing on pleasure for omegas, because it was so rare. How he practised, fisting himself until he knotted, making sure he knew how to control it. How he had bought artificial slick, getting strange comments from the shop owners, in case his omega would want it, and non-perfumed laundry detergent, because some omegas prefer the sheets to be as devoid of smell as possible. How he had learned to cook broths full of vitamins and nutrition and yet bland enough for an omega in heat. How he had watched videos on how to best eat out an omega, how an omega might like to be pleasured while filled up by their alpha’s knot, how to make sure an omega in heat does not hurt themselves by skipping steps.

All the unbonded omega’s present had been taking notes fervently, probably in the hope of sharing this with the alpha they would be assigned to. Some of the alphas had listened a bit sheepishly, coming up to Nicky shyly to ask for more info, their omegas looking at Joe jealously.

And suddenly Joe had seen the light – Nicky had never lied to him about anything, and he had indeed been a virgin when they first mated. But Joe had resented coming so hard, and he’d chosen to accuse Nicky of fucking around before getting his mate assigned to him.

So now he is dragging Nicky by the hand, leaving the meeting abruptly, because he needs to make it up to him. Again.

He needs to get Nicky naked in their bed, and make sure Nicky knows how grateful Joe is. He salivates at the idea of making Nicky come over and over again, deepthroating his big cock before riding it until Nicky sees stars.

As soon as they are inside their flat, though, Nicky grabs Joe’s wrist and touches the mark in his neck with his other hand, softly and gingerly, as if he’s unsure he has permission to do so.

“Joe, are you okay? Did I do anything wrong? I am sorry, gioia mia, just tell me how I can do better next time, please.”

The worry is palpable in his voice and it throbs through the bond.

“No, no,” Joe quickly exclaims, nuzzling Nicky’s neck, where the imprint of Joe’s teeth sits. “No, Nicky, you did everything right. You always have done everything right, and I was too blind to see it.”

He lifts his head to press his mouth on Nicky’s. He might have vaguely intended for this to be a reassuring peck, but he is gushing slick by now, and he just needs Nicky. So it becomes heated and filthy within seconds, and when Joe finally pulls back to draw a shuddering breath, he decides he has waited long enough.

He picks up his mate, walks with his precious cargo to the bedroom and has Nicky naked almost before Nicky realizes what’s going on.

“Joe?”

Nicky sounds dazed, and his smell is full of desire – even more heady than the cloying smell of slick on Joe and the lust between them, is Nicky’s love.

Joe groans.

“I want to give you pleasure, Nicky. As much as you gave me when we first mated.”

“You always do, Joe. It’s always perfect with you. You are so beautiful and –”

“Nicolò… I know better. Just because you came doesn’t mean it was good for you. I treated you like shit. I treated you like a knot without emotions.”

“I already forgave you, gioia mia. I forgave you even before you asked to be forgiven.”

“I know, hayati. But please, let me spoil you tonight. All I ask from you in return is that you’ll always and ever be only mine.”

“I always will be. I always was.”

“I understand that now. But I need you to tell me while you spill inside my mouth. I need you to tell me as you open me up for your knot. And I need you to tell me when you knot me, Nicky. I need you to tell me over and over again, because you are mine and I am yours.”

Two months ago, Joe would have never allowed himself to be this vulnerable in front of his alpha. But things are different now. Nicky takes care of him whenever he needs it, however he needs it. Whether that’s by fucking out Joe’s brains or taking a cold bath with him when he’s feverish with heat.

“I can do that,” Nicky says breathlessly, and Joe smiles. Nicky will not ever deny him anything.

And so Nicky starts telling Joe how much he belongs to him, even though alphas are taught that their omegas are theirs and not the other way around.

“I am yours, gioia mia, only ever yours. You hold my heart in your hands and my body is yours to command. I live to satisfy you.”

“And they say I am the incurable romantic,” Joe growls as he dips down to lick Nicky’s cock. “Keep going, Nicky, please,” he adds, and he doesn’t care if it comes out whining, begging.

“I belong to you, alpha,” he whispers, lips against the mark.

***

They lie together afterwards, smeared with sweat and slick and cum, Nicky still inside Joe, boneless and sated. And Joe wants to tell Nicky, wants to say the words he never thought he would speak. But it is Nicky, and he wants to so badly, so he does.

The bond throbs between them, and where it once was a meagre trickle, hesitant and fragile, which could be cut off at any point, it now is a mighty ocean, flooding both of them, and crashing them together as inevitably as the moon reflects the sun.