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the-one-who-lambs · 11 months ago
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y'all are so lovely because I've spent nearly my entire life feeling like I'm annoying for being too excited about my interests and trying to bandage them like a bleeding wound because I've learned that even many friends would put up with it until I become Too Much but now I'm surrounded by people who actually love that I pour my whole soul into what I do and suddenly I am no longer as intimidated by my muchness
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amtrak12 · 5 months ago
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athenamikaelson · 2 months ago
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 14
Word Count- 5.3k
Warnings- Sexual innuendos (if you’re dirty-minded), swearing, violence, death, blood, Klaus is a dick🙃
“Wait so the students get together and just trash the school,” Alastair questions as he pulls his Porsche into the school parking lot. 
I roll my eyes and sigh at yet another question from him about tonight as we both step out of the car. 
“Like the one-hundred other times you’ve asked, no we are not trashing the school, we’re setting up pranks,” I frown at the thought, “Ok. Maybe it is slightly trashing the school.”
“Ok, that’s great. I guess,” He mutters as he puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk towards the front door. 
“What I don’t get though, is why I have to come?”
I brush his hand off my shoulder and move to open the door before he can do it. He rolls his eyes at my antics and I smile as I motion for him to enter first.
“Age before beauty,” I smirk, “And you have to go because Elena and Caroline are making me go. And you said you’ve never been to a public school and this’ll be your first and last year of it. So we’re putting out all the stops. Besides you’re my side piece, I have to bring you.”
Alastair begins to say something but the sound of his phone dinging stops him. I watch in silence as he picks it up to read what text he just got. But I frown when his usually happy face shifts. His jaw clenches and his right eye twitches as he reads the message. 
“Is everything ok?”
Alastair eyes shift to me for a moment as if forgetting I was here. He quickly writes off a message, puts the phone back into his pocket, and then nods at me.
“Ya,” His tone cold, “I’m fine. Let’s just get this night over with.”
At his harsh and cold tone, I frown.
“If something is wrong you can tell me, y’know. That’s what friends do,” I quietly tell him as I try to keep up with his long strides. 
“I’m fine,” He says back without sparing me a glance.
“Really, if somethings the-”
“I said I’m fine,” I flinch back slightly as Alastair bites back at me and I feel my hands start to shake.
“I’m sorry. I um..,” I bite down hard on my lower lip, “I’m sorry.”
I can see Alastair finally face me out of my peripheral but I just focus on the door ahead as I open it.
“Y/N. I didn’t-”
A high-pitched squealing cuts out Alastair's voice. 
“You guys are finally here,” Caroline’s high-pitched voice assaults my ears as I’m being grabbed by two strong arms and wrapped into a hug.
“I haven’t seen you in forever!”
I laugh slightly at Caroline’s comment, “Caroline, it’s only been like a week?”
Caroline leans back to give me a roll of her eyes, “Well you’ve missed a lot,” She shoots a glance at Alastair who has made his way over to Tyler, “I’ll tell you about it later. But right now we have a lot of work to do!”
Caroline practically skips away as she gestures to what I now see are mouse traps that litter the left side of the classroom.
“We need to get all these,” She gestures to the traps on the desks, “Everywhere!”
I look around at the classroom and then at Bonnie and Elena who are both laughing at Caroline's enthusiasm. As soon as I see Bonnie I begin to walk over to her since I haven’t seen her all summer but a flash of blonde fills my vision.
“You guys can catch up later. We are on a tight schedule right now. So get moving!”
Caroline thrusts a bag of mouse traps into my arms and then walks over to Alastair and does the same. I watch my friend look at the traps and then take a deep breath.
“She’s been like this all night,” Elena whispers as she makes her way over to me.
I kneel to the floor and start placing the traps as I talk with her, “She’s always like this.”
Elena mutters out a “true” as she starts placing traps down as well. I glance up and make eye contact with my witch friend who gives me a smile and a friendly wave. I replicated that as I glanced at Caroline to ensure she didn’t notice. Thankfully she’s complaining to Tyler about not going fast enough. 
—-
I’m just about to place my last trap when I hear the door to the classroom open. I go to yell at the person to stop, but sadly it’s too late. I watch in defeat as all the mouse traps ignite and snaps are heard across the room. 
“Oh, come on,” Caroline exclaims, “Seriously? Do you know how long it took for us to set all this up?”
I glare at Matt Donovan as he stands there looking at all of us sheepishly.
“Forgot about senior prank night, huh,” Tyler questions his friend.
“Clearly.”
Caroline is repulsed by this answer, “How could you forget? We’ve only been waiting for this since like freshman year.”
“Yeah, Matt. If I’m doing this, you’re doing this,” Elena chimes in and I nod along with her because I would much rather be home. Especially since I had another one of my little heart attacks today. Luckily this one lasted only a few minutes unlike others this summer that lasted much longer. 
Damon caught me a month ago having one and made me make a doctor’s appointment to get it checked out. To which I accused him of actually liking me and having a heart. He denied that of course and said it was because he didn’t want me dying in his house and getting my dead person stench everywhere. 
Two weeks later he drove me to some fancy heart doctor in the city and of course, with my luck, the doctor was stumped. Saying he doesn’t see anything wrong on any of the tests he’s done. When I left he said he’d ask around to some of his doctor friends and let me know if they know anything. But, that was over a month ago and I haven’t heard back from him. 
“I’m kind of surprised any of you are doing this,” Matt says.
“Caroline’s making us,” Bonnie says.
“Y/n’s making me,” Alastair smirks at me but I turn away from him.
“We’re about to be seniors. These are the memories that’ll stay with us forever, and if…”
“And if we don’t create these memories now,” Elena interjects, “Then what’s the point of it all?”
“Go ahead and make fun, I don’t care,” I laugh as Caroline shrugs everyone’s teasing off.
“You’re all lame,” Tyler walks by us with bags in his hands, “I’ve got ten more classrooms to prank.”
I frown as I feel I tugging on my hand and I realize I’m being pulled up by Elena. 
“Excuse me?”
“Hey! Where are you going,” Bonnie asks and I have the same question as Elena leads me to the door. I see Alastair start to follow us but Caroline stops him by shoving a bag into his hands. 
“We’re going to go superglue Alaric’s desk shut. We’re making memories,” Elena smiles at them and then squeezes my hand as she leads me out into the hall. I hear Caroline yell out to us and Elena giggles back. 
“I feel like this could’ve been a one-woman job,” I raise my eyebrow at Elena who shrugs.
“I haven’t seen you all week, I missed you,” She sheepishly says the last part and I smile at my friend.
“Well our manager has been making Alastair and I take practically all the shifts,” I explain and then squeeze her hand, “But I missed you too.”
Elena smiles at me as she pushes a door open for me. As we turn the corner she stops to an abrupt halt though and grips my hand so hard I think she might break it. I go to question what's wrong but as soon as I look up I realize what’s scared her. Actually, not a what. A who, Klaus. 
“There’s my girl,” Klaus’ accent fills my ears for the first time in months and a wave of nausea and something else washes over me. 
“Klaus,” Elena exhales quickly and then begins to pull me back with her but as we turn around Klaus speeds in front of us. I feel my hands start to shake and Elena must feel this too because she uses our connected hands to push me behind her protectively. 
“You’re supposed to be dead. What are we going to do about that,” Klaus asks and within a moment he’s grabbing her roughly making our hands fall away from each other. I go to help her but Klaus glares at me.
“Don’t,” The way he bites out the word makes me halt and I have no idea what to do.
As I’m looking at Klaus I don’t think he has any idea what to do with me either as he seems to be thinking over something in his mind. I hear him growl something under his breath and then whip around.
“Follow,” Klaus’ bark instantly has me slightly jogging to catch up with my friend and him as he leads us down the hall.
“You put a rather large kink in my plans, sweetheart. The whole point of breaking the curse and becoming a hybrid was to make more hybrids. I haven't been able to do that. Now my bet is, it has something to do with the fact that you’re still breathing.”
My breathing comes out shallow as I’m literally jogging now to keep up with them through all the halls and doors he’s leading us through. I want nothing more than to get my friend away from him but pissing Klaus off would only result in someone’s death.
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it!”
“Not until I know I’m right. But I do have ways of making you suffer.”
Klaus thrusts open one last door and we’re entering the currently packed gym where students are placing cups and other pranks around. 
“Attention, seniors. You have officially been busted. Prank night is over,” Klaus yells to the students in what I think is some kind of American accent. One that makes me want to put thumbtacks into my ears, “Head on home.”
“You two,” He stops Dana and Chad, “I remember you.”
Dana looks at him confused, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t in my right mind last time we met. Lift your foot up, please, Dana,” Klaus compels the girl and I frown as she does.
“If she drops her foot, Chad, I want you to beat her to death. Understood?”
My eyes widen and a shocked gasp escapes my mouth as I watch in fear as Chad nods.
“Don’t, Klaus. You don’t have to hurt anybody.”
“Oh, come on, love. Of course, I do.”
“Why? To show everyone just how scary you are by killing teenagers? Why not pick on someone your own size, or age, for once,” I angrily say to the man whose spine seems to straighten out as he hears my voice. 
Klaus turns to me and his playful smirk morphs into a dark look as he makes eye contact with me, “When did I say you could speak?”
I try not to let his dark tone and look sway my confidence but this guy really freaks me the fuck out, “I didn’t know I needed your permission,” My voice shakes and I’m hoping he doesn't notice, but by the way his mouth turns into a snarl I think he heard it.
Klaus drops Elena’s arm and slowly stalks towards me like a predator stalking its prey. I think I hear Elena try to get him to stop but all I can focus on is Klaus’ blue eyes that seem to darken as he stalks closer to me. I wait for the worst to happen as he gets a foot away from me but he halts when something diverts his eye. I follow his line of vision to see him staring at my neck. I take a deep breath and wait for him to sink his teeth into me and probably kill me as he reaches his hand up, but I frown when his fingers graze my necklace. The wolf one I had gotten for my birthday. The one Alastair swears didn’t come from him. 
Klaus’ snarl turns into a slight frown as he rubs the wolf one last time and then looks me in the eyes. 
“Go sit down,” He doesn’t give me time to argue with him as he goes back over to Elena who gestures for me to go and sit down on the bleachers. I only do because of the pleading look on my best friend’s face.
I watch silently in fear as Dana struggles to keep her foot raised. Elena questions Klaus about Stefan’s whereabouts but Klaus shrugs her off. The sound of a door opening turns all of our attention. Fear washes over me as Bonnie and Matt enter. 
“No!”
“Bonnie get out of here,” Elena and I both yell to them but it’s too late.
Klaus speeds over to Bonnie, “Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up. Now we can get started. Ah, Dana, why don’t you relax? You and Chad sit tight,” He yells to the two innocent teens and I feel tears fall down my cheeks as Dana falls into her boyfriend's arms in pain.
I stand up to go help them.
“SIT,” Klaus’ booming voice makes me shake as I helplessly sit back down on the bleachers. 
“I assume you’re the reason Elena is still walking around alive? That’s right. If you want to blame someone, blame me,” Bonnie tells the man.
“Oh, there’s no need for blame, love. Just your witchy interference seems to have caused some undesirable side effects. And since you caused the problem I’m going to have you find the fix.”
Right when Klaus is done explaining to Bonnie his plan the door is pushed open and a pretty blond walks in with Tyler in her grasp. 
“Get off me!”
“Hush now,” The blonde shushes him in an accent like Klaus’.
“I’d like you all to meet my sister…Rebekah,” At the mention of yet another Original I grab my already shaking hands in comfort, “Word of warning, she can be quite mean.”
“Don’t be an arse,” Rebekah says as she pushes Tyler into Klaus’ arms. 
“Leave him alone!”
“I’m going to make this very simple,” Klaus drags an injured Tyler, “Every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire hybrid they die during the transition. It’s quite horrible, actually,” We all freeze as Klaus bites into his wrist and shoves it into Tyler’s mouth.
“I need you to find a way to save my hybrids, Bonnie. And for Tyler’s sake…you better hurry.”
Gasps are heard around the room as we watch Klaus snap Tyler’s neck and throw his body onto the floor next to him.
I watch petrified with tears streaming down my face as Klaus smiles happily at Elena, Bonnie, and Matt. 
“He killed him,” Matt says as he sits next to his friend’s dead body.
“He’s not dead. Klaus’ blood will turn him into a vampire.”
“And if Bonnie’s successful he’ll live through his transition,” He turns to Bonnie, “Go on then. Go and fetch your grimoires and enchantments and whatnot. I’ll hold onto Elena for safekeeping.”
Bonnie gives Elena one last glance and then runs out of the room with Matt. 
“So this is the latest doppelganger,” Girl-Klaus taunts Elena, “The original one was much prettier.”
“They look the same,” I say out loud, “That’s like the whole point of doppelgangers. I’m sure the library has dictionaries if you need to look it up.”
My voice draws the woman’s attention and she growls at me. I realize being bitchy to an original vampire wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I try to look tough as she comes over to me but with the dried tears on my face, I guess I look pretty pathetic. 
“And who the hell are you,” Rebekah starts stalking towards me and I stand up from my seat. 
“Y/N, Elena’s friend,” I lift my chin and try to sound confident.
Rebekah smiles at me but it is the farthest thing from friendly, within a second she reaches her hand up and I close my eyes fearing for the worst but nothing happens.
“Don’t,” Klaus’ voice fills my ears and I open my eyes to see his back in front of me blocking me from his sister’s view. 
“She’s nothing! Come on brother let me have a little fun! She insulted me,” Rebekah's annoyed voice sounds as she tries to reason with her brother.
“And you insulted her friend,” Klaus says and then leans down slightly to be face to face with his sister, “Now back up,” The last sentence comes out so low I can barely hear it. But the anger in Klaus’ voice is evident enough to have his sister taking several steps back. 
Klaus turns around for a moment and if I’m not mistaken it would appear that he’s looking me over. His blue eyes make their way over my tear-covered face and the movement of his hand catches my eye. I watch as he clenches and unclenches his right hand before it’s shoved into the pocket of his jeans. 
A growl escapes Klaus’ mouth catching my attention. He doesn’t spare me another glance as he marches back over to Elena. 
Rebekah who stands maybe 5 feet away from me looks at me with a deep frown on her face. One mixed with what I think to be confusion. 
“What did you say your name was,” She questions. This time less hostile and more inquisitive.
“Y/n…”
Rebekah keeps staring at me as if she can’t figure out something.
“Sister, take the wolf-boy elsewhere,” Klaus beckons his sister and Rebekah shoots me one last look before grabbing Tyler’s arm and dragging him out of the room.
—-
I sit silently on the bleachers as Elena comforts Dana and Chad. Klaus sits comfortably on the ground as if this is an everyday experience for him. Which it probably is. My ass starts to hurt from the hard bleachers and let out a low groan. 
“Excuse me,” I try to get Klaus’ attention but realize he’s already looking at me. 
Klaus’ eyes narrow as he looks at me, “What?”
“Can I get up,” I gesture to the bleachers, “My ass hurts.”
For a split second, I could swear Klaus’ upper lip twitches but in a moment his cold look is back. He seems to think for a moment then smirks, “Either keep sitting on those bleachers and bruise your ass, or…,” He narrows his eyes at me and glances at a crying Dana, “You can switch spots with Little Dana here.”
Klaus seems to be proud of himself or something believing that I’m going to shut up and stay seated but without a second thought, I stand up from my spot on the bleachers and walk towards Dana.
“Y/N, no,” I hear Elena whisper to me as I grab Dana’s arm and push her to go sit on the bleachers. She sends me a teary-eyed smile and I turn to look at Klaus, who once again is already looking at me, and balance myself as I lift my left foot. 
Klaus glares at me and I hold eye contact with him for so long that my foot starts to shake. He looks down at my wobbly leg and a shit-eating grin makes its way onto his face. I watch as he stands from his seated position and makes his way over to me. He stops in front of me and turns his head mockingly to the side. 
“How long do you think it’ll take before you fall onto your knees before me,” Klaus says and my knees shake involuntarily.
“I’ve got great calves so I could do this all night wolf-boy,” I say and Klaus raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before slowly dragging his eyes down my body towards my calves.
“You’re not wrong,” He says under his breath before looking back up to me. 
The sound of a door opening alerts us all and a relieved sigh leaves me as I see Stefan enter the gym. 
“Stefan,” Elena exhales. 
“Klaus,” Stefan calls out to the man in front of me who rolls his eyes.
“Come to save your damsel, mate?”
“I came to ask for your forgiveness. And pledge my loyalty.”
Stefan’s words have me frowning, “Excuse me? Pledge your loyalty to this dictator,” I throw up a finger to Klaus who rolls his eyes at me. 
“Well, you broke that pledge once already,” Klaus says like a hurt little boy.
“Elena means nothing to me anymore,” Ya ok, “And whatever you ask of me… I will do.”
Klaus thinks for a moment before turning around, “Fair enough. Let’s drink on it. Kill them.”
I gasp as Klaus points to Dana and Chad who are sitting together on the bleachers. 
“What are you waiting for? Kill them.”
“No! Stefan, don’t. He’s not going to hurt me. He already said,” Elena tries to reason with her boyfriend but is stopped as Klaus hits her across the face. 
I loud gasp escapes me and I drop my foot not even caring if it gets me killed as I rush towards my best friend. 
I grab Elena and check her over for any wounds as she watches Stefan and Klaus fight behind us. 
“She means nothing to you? Your lies just keep piling up,” Klaus says as he holds Stefan by the throat.
“Let her and Y/n go! I’ll do whatever you want, you have my word!”
“Your word doesn’t mean much. I lived by your word all summer during which time I never had to resort to this. Stop fighting.”
“Don’t do this, don’t do this.”
“I didn’t want to. All I wanted was your allegiance. Now I’m going to have to take it. You will do exactly as I say when I say it. You will not run, you will not hide you will simply just obey.”
I watch in horror as I realize that Klaus is compelling away Stefan’s free will. Elena and I both watch horrified as Stefan stands there like a zombie. 
“Now kill them…Ripper.”
Before I can see anything Elena grabs me into her arms and pushes my head into her neck. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear Dana and Chad’s terrified screams and then the drop of their bodies. Tears fall from my cheeks and from the dampness on my shoulder I can tell Elena is crying as well. 
Klaus leans down towards Elena and me and shoves Elena away from me. My butt falls onto the ground and I watch as Klaus starts taunting my friend.
“It’s always nice to see a vampire in his true element. The species has become such a broody lot.”
“No. You did this to him,” Elena growls out. I look over to Stefan as he shamefully wipes Dana and Chad’s blood off his chin and I have to swallow the bile rising up my throat. 
“I invited him to the party, love. He’s the one dancing on the table.”
“You’re a monster,” I bite out at the man.
Klaus stands up and walks over to me. He looks down at me and smirks, “I’m the monster, princess,” Klaus leans down slightly and his smirk deepens. He raises a finger and mockingly wipes a stray tear off my face, “And you, are on your knees in front of this monster.”
I look down at my kneeled position and can’t seem to care what me not keeping one fucking foot up means. All I know is that I hate this man in front of me.
“Go fuck yourself,” I bite out at him and his smirk deepens.
He leans down further so our faces are almost touching and whispers out, “Such nasty words from such a pretty mouth.”
“Where is it? Where’s my necklace?”
Rebekah running into the room and towards Elena diverts Klaus’ attention from me. 
“What are you talking about?”
“She has my necklace. Look,” Rebekah accuses Elena as she hands her brother a phone.
Klaus inspects something on the device before looking over to Elena, “Well, well. More lies.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t have it anymore,” Elena responds.
“You’re lying,” Rebekah yells and flashes towards Elena and rips into her neck. 
I jump up in surprise and run to help my friend but Klaus has already pushed his sister away. 
“Knock it off!”
“Make her tell me, Nik!”
Klaus places his hands to his lips and kneels down next to Elena as I hold her shoulders, “Where’s the necklace, sweetheart? Be honest.”
I quickly grab the sweater I’m wearing and drag it over my head, leaving me only in my white tank top, and quickly press it to Elena’s neck. I look to Klaus who keeps eye contact with me until Elena speaks up.
“I’m telling the truth. Katherine stole it.”
Klaus sighs, “Katerina. Of course. Well, that’s unfortunate. If we had the necklace it would make things a whole lot easier for your witch, but since we’re doing this the hard way,” Klaus stands up and walks over to the control pad for the scoreboard, “Let’s put a clock on it. Shall we?”
A loud buzzer sounds, “Twenty minutes. If Bonnie hasn’t found a solution by then I want you to feed again, only this time,” He walks over to face Stefan, “I want you to feed on Elena. You know you want to.”
“No, Klaus. Don’t do this to him,” Elena begs.
“No one leaves. If she tries to run, fracture her spine,” Klaus walks by me grabbing my upper arm and pulling me, “You’re with me.”
As soon as we’re out of the gym Klaus drops my arm and rubs his hand on his jeans. 
“If anyone here has cooties it’s you,” I whisper out but he must’ve heard it as he rolls his eyes. 
“You sit,” Klaus motions towards the wall and I sigh.
I sit and watch silently as Rebekah and Klaus converse with one another a few feet away from me. 
“You’re not going to let him kill her,” I say out loud from my spot. Klaus and Rebekah both look my way and Klaus narrows his eyes at me.
“Is that so?”
“I mean I would think so. Unless you’re an idiot.”
This comment seems to ruffle some of Klaus’ feathers as he narrows his eyes at me and stalks toward me. Rebekah watches silently from her spot.
“I am not an idiot,” Klaus says and I raise an eyebrow staring up at him.
“I never said you were. I said you would be an idiot. That’s two different things.”
Klaus stares at me and once again it looks like he’s fighting an internal battle, “Do you always talk this much?”
“No. At least not usually. Alastair says…” 
I stop my sentence when I remember my friend is still somewhere in this school. At least I think he is. I hope to god he left when all the other students did. 
“Alastair?”
Klaus turns his head to the side questionably.
“You look like a puppy when you do that, y’know,” I snarkily chime out and am almost as surprised with my confidence as Klaus seems to be. 
A snort is heard from behind him and I look to see Rebekah covering her laugh with a cough. Her brother sends her a deadly glare and she instantly sobers up.
Klaus turns back towards me and leans down to face me again, “Just because I didn’t kill you back there. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it now. Watch your tongue, princess. Before I rip it out.”
I hold my breath as Klaus stands back up and he seems to hear something as he turns his head. Without a second glance at me or his sister Klaus speeds away. 
“Are you suicidal,” Rebekah’s voice catches my attention. I look over at her and see her watching me with an almost amazed look.
“Not currently,” I bite out.
“How long have you known my brother,” She questions.
I shake my head in annoyance, “Why?”
Just like her brother, she narrows her eyes at me, “Answer the question.”
I close my eyes and lean my head against the lockers I’m seated against, “I’ve had like two conversations with the guy.”
“That’s impossible,” She responds and I groan as I open my eyes.
“Well, it’s the truth.”
We both sit in silence for a moment staring at each other. After a moment Rebekah takes a step forward and I tense up against the lockers.
“Calm down. I’m not going to touch you. I just want to get a closer look at you,” She says.
“Why?”
Rebekah kneels in front of me and I watch wide-eyed and silently unnerved as she marks every spot of my face with her eyes. 
“Is there-”
“Shhh.”
Okay.
Rebekah leans in a little closer and for a second I’m wondering if this girl is going to kiss me or bite into my neck but a gasp escapes her lips and she leans back on his hands.
“It’s you,” She whispers in awe.
“Excuse me?”
“Your eyes…”
“What about my eyes?”
“REBEKAH,” Klaus’ loud voice is heard through the halls and Rebekah quickly moves away from me. 
Klaus storms down the hall and glares at his sister. I watch in confusion as they have a silent conversation with their eyes before Klaus begins walking down the hall.
“Follow.”
I follow Klaus and Rebekah into a classroom. The latter keeps making me feel uneasy with her staring. 
“Well, the verdicts in. The original witch says the doppelganger should be dead.” Klaus says to who I can now see is Caroline and Tyler.
“Does that mean we can kill her,” Rebekah asks excitedly and I shoot her a nasty look. 
“No, I’m fairly certain it means the opposite,” Within a second Rebekah is grabbing onto Caroline holding her back as Klaus gives Tyler a vial of Elena’s blood. The latter drinks it. And in a split second, he’s convulsing on the floor and groaning in pain. I flinch back when Tyler screams in pain as he grabs his head. But when he stops and opens his eyes I gasp as I see his once brown eyes have illuminated to gold and dark veins make their way up his face. 
“Well, that’s a good sign.”
“Where are you taking me,” I ask Klaus as he leads me out of the school doors and into the parking lot. 
“Stop talking,” He bites out.
I roll my eyes and continue walking but freeze in horror as I see Alastair leaning against his car. He notices me and Klaus and stands to his full height.
“Alastair go!”
I run and try to warn him but as I get to him he doesn’t even look me in the eye. He’s staring behind me. At Klaus. 
“I’ll be leaving to find more wolves, mate,” I frown as Klaus speaks to my friend. 
“Shall I come,” My vision goes blurry as I watch in shock as Alastair responds to Klaus.
“Alastair…”
“No,” Klaus looks over to me with a smirk, “You’re still needed here.”
“What… Alastair what is he talking about, how do you-”
“Get in the car, Y/N,” Alastair’s cold voice says to me as he moves past me and opens the passenger door to his car. He doesn’t move his gaze away from Klaus who watches the interaction with a delighted smirk. 
“No! No! Not until you tell me what’s happening. You know him,” I yell and point in confusion and anger to Klaus. 
Alastair doesn’t look at me but he clenches his jaw.
“Get her home safe,” Klaus smirks at me, “Old friend.”
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heegyukeluv · 3 months ago
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... and a bit more (sjy)
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EXTRA FOR "A HUNDRED SUNSETS" (read it here)
pairing: jake x afab!reader
synopsis: It's been years since you and Jake started dating, now dealing with adult life, which became an easy thing as you both shared it together, full of love and support. Yet, years in a relationship can make you wonder if your loved one still sees you with the same intensity. So you decided to reassure Jake that no matter how many years you stay with him, your love and desire will remain as passionate as ever.
my's note: i’m so obsessed with these characters AND SO ARE YALL WTFFF!! I’M THRILLED WITH ALL THE SUPPORT I’VE RECEIVED FOR THIS WORK i did NOT expect this to get this many likes and reblogs and comments and stuff 😭😭😭😭 sooooo here’s a lil gift as a THANK YOU!!! thank y’all for every word of appreciation towards my writing and my work. i really meant it!!! hope you enjoy this one as much as “a hundred sunsets” 💖
warnings: established relationship, jake is a bit insecure in this one, teacher jake (as a job! he’s not y/n’s teacher), pet names, reader blushing/turning red! smut w plot! (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - oral sex (f. receiving), slight choking (j does to y/n CONSENSUAL. SHE ASKED. and please for god’s sake don’t do it if you don’t know how to do it properly), reader kinda suffocates jake (but he likes that lol), j. cums inside, unprotected sex (don’t do it !!), car sex (oral only!! f. receiving). lmk if i missed something!!
wc: 7.5k
NOT PROOFREAD. 
taglist 💖: @yvnempire
Jake’s head was aching with the amount of highschoolers he was dealing with everyday.
Choosing that career path was a childhood dream come true; to be able to teach other people about what he loves the most – after you, of course – brought so much joy to his life, he was constantly on cloud nine. Having you by his side to celebrate every little achievement with him played a big part in that as well.
However, as with every other job, there were some days he wished to erase from his memory in order to forget not only how stressful it was, but how annoying some teenagers can be. 
Jake knew he didn’t had to worry about your feelings for him in any way.
You showered him with love and affection in every single action of yours and that was pretty much enough. You would pack him lunch with cute little love notes, you would stay with him until late while he read his articles and prepared his classes, you would pick him up every now and then to get him to a date – even after years, you both still loved watching the sunset together, whispering love promises until nightfall, only to continuing saying them under the moonlight. 
Your big smile and shining eyes greeting him whenever he got home acted like words unspoken, but just in case you made sure to say them constantly.
But sometimes there are things that some teenagers say that can really hurt your ego and hit you directly in your insecurities if you let them in. And the words he heard that day echoed through his mind the whole afternoon. 
You were working on some work papers in the living room when you heard the front door unlocking. Quickly you stood up to greet Jake with a hug.
You never understood how you always managed to miss Jake even now, after you both started to live together, but at some point you just gave up trying to figure it out, accepting your fate of never getting enough of your amazing boyfriend. 
“Oh, hey there, professor,” you welcomed him with a sweet smile, already cupping his face with your hands and placing a tender kiss on your favorite lips, the same plump, red and soft ones you always loved to feel on yours.
“Hey, babe.”
You tilted your head, confused. Although Jake reciprocated your kiss, the mood wasn’t right. 
You never expected Jake to be bright and cheerful all the time, never, especially when coming home from such stressful work. Alongside that, his intense studying sessions in order to get better at his job and eventually become a university teacher helped him to get overwhelmed from time to time, so you respected the moments he vented out about his burdens, listening with all your heart and asking him if he wanted some advice or just to be heart.
Most times he just asked for a warm hug and a kiss, and of course, you under no circumstances would deny such a heartwarming request.
You knew it was the minimum, but you appreciated how Jake never discounted his stress on you. Actually he would be always saying you were his stress reliever, so you really weirded out with his actions today. 
Not only was his demeanor quite off, kindly pulling you away without deepening the kiss to leave his bag and coat beside the door, but his face expressed something you read as concern and sadness.
You watched Jake walking quietly to your room without explaining a thing, so you followed him right away, heart hurting in worry. 
“What’s with the frown, my love?” You asked softly when you both arrived at the room almost at the same time, you behind Jake, who was now starting to get undressed. 
He said nothing as he took off his glasses to put on the nightstand and unbelted his dark blue trousers, sitting on the bed to unbutton the first buttons of his white dress shirt, not fully finishing any of his actions like he was in some internal dilemma preventing him from working properly.
Your concerned gaze followed his every move until you finally heard his voice. “Do you love me?”
Now was your time to frown as you approached him. “What’s this question, Jakey? Of course I love you,” you sat beside him and your hand almost instantly grabbed his to gently squeeze it, playing with his fingers.
He was glancing at a random spot on the floor while you tried to read his face. 
“No, but like, do you still think I’m attractive? Do you really feel desire for me or do you fake it?”
You could see he was a bit embarrassed for asking that so you, again, reassured him with your words and actions. “I’m really confused right now, my love. Of course I do feel desire for you, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever met. And yeah, you are attractive as fuck, Jakey,” you lifted his chin with your fingers to face you. “What’s with all that? Tell me what happened, mhm?”
Jake locked his eyes on you for a second, already feeling a bit better meeting his favorite two orbs looking at him with so much love, warmth and reassurance. However, although he appreciated every genuine feeling from you, he wasn’t asking you for any of that at the moment.
He needed to know if you still saw him as an attractive guy,  so he averted his gaze as he started to spill what was on his mind all day. 
“Some random kid told me that you’d easily leave me for a hot guy if I don’t treat you right, and I don’t normally care about what some of them say because y’know, teenagers and their full of nonsense minds, but–” He sighed, pain starting to drip all through his words. “I– I know that you love me, and I love you too. But what if– What if I don’t pleasure you enough?” His eyes searched for yours again, eyes a bit red like he was about to cry. “What if you realize you can find some other person that can fulfill your fantasies and desires in a way I can’t?”
Jake let everything out all at once, every corrosive thinking that dwelled him throughout the day, knowing he was in a safe space, that you were his safe place. You got a bit surprised with the sudden rant, but listened with care and attention to know what to do whenever he stopped, but your head was already spinning with all the information he was giving you. 
How could he think that? Jake was an incredible boyfriend, in a way that you worried to give him love enough to keep him close, because the thought of Jake leaving you frightened you too much.
You always felt like no action or words of yours could show him how much you loved and needed him around. To imagine he thinks a similar thing made your heart pound in pain.
“You’re hot and young and beautiful and so easy to love. Everytime I ask myself how I managed to bag a goddess like you. I can’t bear the idea of losing you, Y/N–”
You had to shut him up with a kiss, and then another, and another, until you felt him relaxing under your touch. You moved your body to sit on his lap, his hands looking for comfort on your hips right away. “You will never lose me, Jake,” you whispered, his warm breath brushing against your skin as you admired each feature of his pretty face. “I love you. I want you. Only you,” you pecked his lips again before continuing to speak with a small smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re everything I've ever wanted, you’re everything I need, my love,” and one more sweet kiss. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”
And then you finally kissed him properly, sighing when you felt his tongue searching for yours, touching you so intimately, so passionately, so full of love. Your hips were moving in little circles on his lap, already feeling yourself getting wet and his dick getting hard. 
You thought about sharing your own insecurities keeping the same theme, but that was Jake’s moment of being loved, and you were willing to let him know in every breath, touch, kiss, word of yours how much you cherished him, how much you adored his presence, how much you treasured every single moment with him, and of course, how aroused Jake could make you feel just by being close.
You never spoke directly to him about that, but Jake was magnetic. Your eyes always searched for him, observing how his movements seemed meticulously calculated to leave you wanting more, all the time making you lose your mind doing the simplest things.
Seeing him walking around the house wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that showed the hem of his boxers with his study glasses and messy hair always made you squeeze your thighs together and swallow hard on your seat.
Same thing whenever he got ready for work in the morning, getting all dressed up in his dress shirt with coats/blazers or just a casual long-sleeve shirt, never forgetting his black specs – everytime you had to hold yourself from tossing him back in the bed to ride his face with that fucking glasses. 
Or when he was focused on his studies, deep in thought with furrowed brows and lips pursed a bit, from time to time biting his tongue, making you worder how hard he could fuck you while looking at you like that.
And not to mention whenever you were in the car with Jake being the driver, his hands gripping on the wheel and his veiny arms popping out looking so unnecessary hot, to the point you almost had to ask him to pull over to fuck you deep with his slender pretty fingers.
You were so sure that your craving eyes shamelessly undressing him was noticeable, but now you got to know that maybe you should start to show off how he affected you more often in order to make Jake understand that his breathing near your ears alone could make you go wild.
You bit his bottom lip and pulled away while grabbing one of his hands from your back to lead it down to the hem of your shorts. “Feel that, Jakey?” You asked after forcing his hands to touch your clothed cunt, smirking. “Can you feel how wet I am just by kissing you, pretty boy?” Jake nodded dumbly while open-mouthed moaning on your lips just by feeling your already dampened panties, hooded eyes looking at you with nothing but passion and lust, his own dick growing hard in his pants. “That’s how much you affect me, my love.”
The whole atmosphere had switched and none of you complained, because the main reason for Jake's down feeling was the idea of losing you due him being unable to satisfy you, which you decided right away to tell and show him he was doing way more than you expected, and always so right.
Jake always surpassed your expectations. You were so fucking lucky.
“Let me love you, okay?” You quickly locked your lips one more time, addicted to his taste, before pushing him down to lay on his back on the sheets, hands leaving your warm, clothed pussy, to hold you still on top of him. “Let me show you how good you make me feel and how much I want you,” and your mouth searched for him again as if it never felt enough. 
Every touch of your sensitive area on his bulge was making both of you groan between the messy kiss you were sharing, the taste of his tongue on yours working as a drug, making you wonder if you could stay like that forever.
Unwilling you parted away again, getting out of the bed to start to undress yourself as a little show for Jake. That night fate designed you to choose to wear his favorite black set of lingerie, so he was watching you with hungry eyes, devouring each curve of your body with his eyes, like you were his favorite meal – and just to add, he would watch you the same way even if you were wearing torn clothes. Jake was so in love and obsessed with you, anything about you made him feel insane.
You gave him a smirk before removing your panties and climbing on him again, loving the way his eyes were glazed on your chest, the bra of the lingerie set making it squished together and too pretty for him to handle. He bit his own lip as if he was holding himself, breath growing heavy, the dim light of your shared bedroom making it look even hotter, with his messy hair, glistening, red, swollen lips and eyes full of adoration and desire for you. Only for you. 
“I need to eat you out,” he uttered in a hurry, almost sounding drunk when his hands touched your bare hips, caressing your warm skin and making you shiver. You smiled cheekily.
“Of course you do, pretty boy,” you planted a tender kiss on his nose, both of his cheeks, his chin and on his forehead, “That’s why I’ll be sitting on your pretty face right now,” and then a final kiss on his lips as you watched his eyes sparkle in joy and enthusiasm in anticipation, you couldn't hold a little laugh. 
Jake had a not so little oral fixation, always finding a way of placing his lips on you, nibbing or sucking any part of your skin he was able to, your pussy being his favorite. And who were you to deny such things? You always let him use your body for his own satisfaction, because you knew how hard he could get just by the thought alone of eating you out, and there were many times he came untouched while doing it. 
It was a win-win situation, with you hitting your best orgasms every single time, making your pretty noises just for him, dripping all over his tongue.
Jake’s heart fluttered with the view of you getting on your knees, hovering yourself while touching your dampened folds with your own fingers just to place your cunt directly on his mouth. He was in heaven, eyes instantly closing as he exhaled your scent, getting drunker and drunker on you.
You sat slowly on him, a little afraid of suffocating your cute boyfriend who now had his arms hugging your legs, pushing you down without a care in the world, like suffocating himself on you was everything he ever wanted. 
Jake always began with a big, long lick, collecting all you arousal just to feel your taste and mix it with his own saliva, drawing out a moan from you, before starting to suck you with passion, almost like he was slowly making out with your pussy, the tip of his nose constantly rubbing your sensitive clit as he went faster, the ragged breath tickling your skin while he was focused on you. 
Your hand searched for support on the headboard, the other unconsciously grabbing Jake’s hair just like you knew he loved, giving it a little pull once and while to show him how much pleasure he was giving you. 
“You always make me feel so, so good, Jakey,” you said with a gasp, your body reacting out of lust, hips rolling back and forth trying to match Jake’s rhythm. 
The whole visual underneath you showed a forbidden scene that only helped your arousal to increase; Jake’s sweaty hair was getting stuck on his forehead, eyes closed and arms holding you closer with his veiny hands squeezing your thighs, pushing you even more into his face. “And you look so fucking hot right now, Jaeyun. Shit.”
You threw your head back and rolled your eyes when he started to intercalate his movements to tongue-fucking you, lewd wet sounds now filling up the room. “Your mouth does wonders on me, you know that?” Your breath was heavy, your whole body on fire, the only thing coming across in your mind right now was to cum all over his face. 
You wanted to make sure Jake understood how fantastic of a job he was doing, like ever, and how much you loved the way he guided you through your pleasure, giving you everything you needed. “You always eat me so good, my pretty boy–” You interrupted yourself with a loud whimper when he focused on your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue on it. “I’m close, Jaeyun– fuck. I’m really close,” you could feel your orgasm building up on your core, Jake also noticed how your body was reacting by you avidly riding on his face, legs tensioning a bit, you already caring less about suffocating him or whatever – he always told you to go hard on him, and loved every time you did.
Jake was so in heaven.
He himself started to moan on your cunt, intensifying his attention on your clit, his mumbles vibrating in your sensitive area.
“You’re my precious boy, isn’t that right?” You said with your voice weak and heard a little muffed ‘mhm’ as a response. “So make me cum, yeah, Jakey?” 
To get you off was always Jake’s own pleasure, especially when he was using his mouth to do so. God, Jake loved to hear your pretty sounds, how you would moan his name so pleasing, your body trembling by pure lust, you losing yourself when you were close to your climax, overwhelmed by all his stimulus. 
So Jake focused even more to make you to cum. At this point you were a whimpering mess, rushing over to achieve your orgasm so desperately that small tears started to form in the corner of your eyes and your hands tightened on Jake’s hair when you finally did, spilling your juices all over his mouth.
Jake maintained his tongue working on you, passionately collecting all of you, groaning with delight as he felt your taste melting on his tongue.
You tried to catch your breath for a bit before removing yourself from Jake’s face, hissing when you felt your thighs burning due your own work and the position you stood for so long. You flopped on the bed besides Jake to recover yourself, listening to him gasping for air as well, but with a satisfied grin adorning his glistened, attractive lips.
“You are insane,” you whispered, smiling before propping yourself on your elbow to give him a sweet kiss, opposite to all the sexual atmosphere that drifted around the room minutes ago, your hands searching for comfort on his neck, deepening the touch.
“Yes, for you,” Jake replied between the kiss, shifting a bit to be on his side so he could give you proper access to his mouth, and also to rub his fingers on the bare skin of your waist, pulling you closer. When he did that, you felt his hard bulge brushing against you and startled, parting away from him to give a questioning expression.
“Jaeyun,” you touched his still clothed and neglected cock.
“Ah–” 
“Why didn’t you stop to at least remove your clothes?” You asked genuinely worried, already moving yourself to do what you just said. “This must be hurting so bad, my love,” you watched how his dick jumped out of his boxers when you took it off.
“It is…” He whispered, face contorted in pleasure and relief when your warm, soft hands started to pump his shaft. “But you’re always my priority, sugar,” he said with a smirk, looking down to watch you for a second.
You loved how Jake managed to make you smile and your heart flutter in moments like those, constantly ensuring that you felt loved before anything else.
You collected the precum leaking out of his tip with your fingers, to ease your movements as you accelerated a bit. Due to his sensitivity, he almost instantly opened his mouth with a loud moan and started to buck his hips into your touch, wanting more of it while whispering “P–Please...”
You kept giving the attention he needed, cupping his tip with your hand to move it in circles. Jake whimpered, voice cracking a little ‘fuck’. He was melting under your touch, so sensitive, his body slightly squirming beneath you, needing more of you.
Although you were enjoying the view and how reactive he was just by your hand alone, you wanted more of him, so you voiced it out in a serious tone “I really need you to fuck me,” as you moved away, leaving him missing your warmth around his dick so you could lay on your back on the bed.
Jake immediately understood the assignment, positioning himself over you, his necklace dangling near your face. You smirked as you pulled him closer so your mouth could meet his, but he broke the contact before you could do so.
“Let me just get rid of this shirt bef–”
“No!” You rushed to say, grabbing his arms to interrupt his attempt of removing his dress shirt, “Don’t, please,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks burning by the shyness that hit on you, averting his curious gaze.
“Hm?” Jake lifted an eyebrow, puppy eyes trying to understand why you were reticent all of a sudden.
He decided to not undress himself fully as you asked to do so without questioning it much, leaning to kiss your neck, his soft lips already knowing every sweet spot of yours. His goal was to make you relaxed, reassuring you that whatever you said he would respect and listen with all the love he had for you.
“I have this fantasy…” You started to speak after a while, enjoying his light, still hot touches, now you being the one melting for him. 
“Yeah?” He whispered, keeping sucking, biting and kissing your neck, jawline and collarbone area, shivers spreading all over your body. He was thrilled with the idea of you sharing more from that side of yours, knowing damn well how hard to say it out loud was for you. Jake would always give you all the time in the world, though. 
You took advantage of his face being buried on your neck to keep talking with a slight lack of confidence. You were afraid of how Jake would react. “I–I always wanted you to– To fuck me wearing a dress shirt,” you stuttered a bit, but finally voiced out what have been on the back of your mind for a while, gulping nervously while your hands tried to find comfort on his hair, playing with it as a habit of tension.
You heard a little chuckle from Jake, which made you worry that he might find you a bit pathetic. 
But it was Jake, after all. The one that managed to surprise – and most important, to respect – you every single time. “You’re so cute,” wasn’t what you expected to hear. Jake pulled away, gently holding your chin for you to face him. “Does my gorgeous girlfriend get turned on by me wearing a dress shirt?” The sultry tone and the charming grin decorating his lips made you blushing even harder, not to mention the fluttering excitement in your stomach. “Did I get it right, sugar?”
You saw Jake shirtless countless times, yet the view right now of his chest showing just enough because the first buttons being undone alongside his dangling silver necklace was driving you insane, breath growing heavy as you licked your lips, not saying anything.
Every reaction of you being catched by Jake’s sharp gaze. “I need your words, my love,” he whispered, teasingly brushing his lips on yours.
“Yes, Jakey,” you whispered back, trying to push your embarrassment away. “You look so hot on it.”
“There you go,” he smiled proudly at you, but also confident by your compliment.
He finally kissed you properly, sucking your bottom lip and then immediately deepening the touch by adding his tongue, messily kissing you just how you wanted. 
One of his hands slowly found its way down your body, fingers brushing your folds before inserting two digits without a warning; due to your wetness he had no trouble in doing so. Your moan got lost into his mouth, your own fingers messing his hair even more, nails scratching his nape and scalp. 
Jake’s lips traveled down to your neck while his hand continued its job on your entrance, in and out in a slow, painful pace. He kept going down with his kisses, stopping on your still clothed boobs.
“Can I remove these?” He asked, pointing to your bra and you nodded, breathing heavy as you helped him to undress you fully, missing his fingers inside you.
Jake would constantly ask permission before removing any piece of your clothes, and in particular, your bra. You once told him how much more comfortable you felt wearing a bra during sex, especially if you were riding him. At the same time, you were totally aware of his love for your whole body, so alongside that, you gave him the consentment to remove the piece whenever he felt like it. And every time he questioned if he could.
Jake straightened his back for a second just to appreciate your beauty.
He questioned how he got so lucky to have you like that, all naked just for him to touch, gorgeous body just for him to glorify, your face, in a perfect blend of love and lust, just for him to see. Everything. Just for him. How?
“Only you can have me like this, Jakey,” you spoke softly with an equally gentle smile, like you were reading his mind tripping over insecurities again – although you felt a bit shy under his intense gaze. “You’re the only one I love.”
He sighed. A lovesick type of sigh, the one he let out whenever he realized – once more – how much in love he was with you, the one that always came with a cute smile, the one with a devoted gaze.
Then he leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before continuing his work, focusing his mouth now on your tits, gently swirling his tongue on your hardened nipples while sucking on it. You gasped, hands rushing to tangle your fingers on his silky hair. He gave the proper attention to both of your boobs, making you even more wet, before moving down to kiss the interior of your thighs. 
“Please, Jaeyun– I wanna feel you inside of me, please.” You pleaded, already feeling impatient.
You heard him let out a soft laugh before trailing his lips all over your body, up to your lips, whispering with a sweet, yet alluring tone. “Your wish is my command, princess,” and he aligned his cock on your entrance, slowly entering you. He gave you little kisses all over your face, capturing all your expressions of pleasure and then said “I love you.”
Your lips curved with the tender, sudden confession, moaning when you felt him finally moving, your hooded eyes looking for Jake’s to whisper “I love you too, my love..”
And you also loved how Jake filled you up so good, so deep inside you, thrusting his hips in the pace he already knew both of you enjoyed.
Normally Jake would be willing to let you take control all over him, especially if you were using him to reach your own high – riding his face or his cock, coming all over his body, making a total mess. He loved that. But from time to time you would silently ask for him to take over, laying down on the bed and letting him be the one in charge of using your body. And he had to admit that he also loved that. 
To watch your eyes rolling whenever he hit your g-spot, the little frown of delight mixed with your mouth open, chanting his name in between moans in such an endearing, alluring way without even realizing it, fully surrendered. He could cum just by watching it.
The room quickly was filled with groans and moans from you two, Jake intertwined your fingers together and lifted both your hands above your head, holding himself steady as he kept thrusting harder and faster into you, wet sounds mixing with your names being whispered by each other’s mouth, lost in pure ecstasy. 
“Choke me,” you whined at some point, wanting more and more of that addicting feeling. “P-Please, choke me, Jakey,” you managed to move one of your hands still interlocked with his, positioning it on your neck, letting it go for him to do what you asked for, his movements slowing down a bit as he was trying to fully understand your request. 
Jake’s eyes gleamed with a bit of shock and excitement. Wasn’t your first time asking him to choke you, but everytime he got somewhat surprised. He placed his hands around your neck, gently squeezing the spot he learned from you that is the right one. Jake was always very cautious with the act, observing your reactions and never taking more than a few seconds, doing just enough for you to feel the pleasure you wanted to. And you so did. 
Your mouth fell open with a loud, choked moan when your air got stuck in your throat. The view of him with his white dress shirt holding you like that made your mind go dizzy for a brief moment. You gasped for air as soon as Jake released the tightness on your neck, feeling him kissing you right after but you couldn’t kiss him back, your orgasm near the edge already making you too messy and out of your mind, so he went down to bite and kiss your neck.
Jake’s hot breath on your skin, he sounding so gorgeous, lascivious groaning your name, together with all the overwhelmness your body was going through and his dick deep into your pussy the way you loved, was enough for your second orgasm to hit.
Without a proper warning you screamed Jake’s name while your walls clenched around his cock, he himself moaning with your tight cunt making it difficult to move. Your hand squeezed his when you hit your climax, and it took just a few more pumps until you felt Jake’s warm liquid filling you up along a groan. You hissed.
Jake fell on your body, panting hard and burying his face on your neck. You chuckled when your mind got back to yourself, remembering what all of that was about. “Does this answer your questions?” You asked, out of breath. 
“What?” Jake whispered, lips tickling your skin when he did so.
“That I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”
Jake hummed against your skin, now understanding what you meant. You felt him smiling right after. 
“I think I need a few more reminders, just in case.”
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So on a random morning, while staying loyal to your job of making Jake fully aware of your deep need for him and how profoundly he affected you, you watched him getting ready for work with you still on the bed. 
You two always woke up almost together, while Jake took a shower and brushed his teeth, you made breakfast and prepared his lunchbox together with a cute note – it wasn’t an everyday routine since some days Jake had lunch with you at home or on a little date.
After eating, you would go watch and help him with his clothes whenever he needed it. You loved to watch him like he was your favorite show, especially because your day started a bit later than that so that was kind of the quality time you two shared every morning. 
But today the show was a bit… different.
Jake looked like a lost puppy, shirtless in front of his wardrobe trying to figure out something to wear, barely noticing you hungrily eyeing him up and down not caring much about his whole dilemma. 
He turned to you to ask. “This one or this one? What do you prefer?” 
You quickly eyed the options and pointed to the red and white striped long sleeve – one of your favorites, so it was your honest opinion, actually.
However you had other ideas running through your mind, so you went closer to him, hugging his warm body from behind before he wore the shirt. “But you look better without any of them, y’know that?” You glanced at him from the mirror in front of you both, your hands caressing his toned chest faking an innocence. Jake’s eyes caught yours showing your clearly second intentions, shifting to a darkened atmosphere right away. 
“You think so? Should I go shirtless then?” He asked playfully with a smirk. You giggled mischievously, turning him over so you two could face each other, your hands on his waist while he cupped your face.
“You’d definitely turn some heads,” you teased, leaning in closer, voice turning into a low whisper. “But I’d rather keep the view all to myself,” and with that your lips met his to share a passionate kiss, your small giggles and smiles getting lost in between.
Jake’s body pushed you to start walking backwards while his hands moved your head to the side to deepen the touch. You stumbled your legs on the bed, falling over it without breaking the contact, Jake hovering you as you felt his bulge hardening against your thigh. 
He broke the kiss to pick his phone from the nightstand, tilting his head. “We have about fifteen minutes,” and glanced back at you with a smirk, diving into you once again.
“More than enough,” you murmured, shivering with the feeling of the tip of his nose and lips brushing against your neck, giving little kisses on there, your panties dampening just by that. 
You sighed, letting out a quietly whimper as Jake’s lips gently sucked a sensitive part of your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for you both to kiss. You tried to undress him quickly, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one go with his help after he removed your shorts and panties, leaving you with only your oversized shirt.
You felt his hands traveling down your body until his fingers touched your folds just to collect your arousal to make you nice and ready for him. Jake jerked himself off for a bit, spreading his precum all over his shaft to finally replace his fingers.
He moaned in your ear when he finally felt your tightness around his cock, the action alone making you quiver. You loved to hear Jake’s pretty noises, especially this close. But you wanted more – and time was running out. 
“Faster,” you whispered while softly dragging your fingernails all over his back, annoyed by his slow pace not increasing gradually as you expected and wanted. 
However, Jake was in the mood of teasing you for a bit – as if you both had plenty of time – by keeping his movements the same, slow and steady, taking his sweet time to watch your frustrated frown. “Jaeyun…” He giggled against your cheek, kissing you afterwards and then he started to go faster, just how you ordered. 
Although he was a teaser sometimes, Jake's favorite thing to do was to comply with your wishes; anything you asked him to do he would be willingly doing it. And during intimate moments, he would take his sweet time to observe and understand every reaction of your body whenever he was touching you, at this point of the relationship already knowing how to read you and how to make you feel even better. 
So when you started to moan his name in between whimpers, one of his hands slid under your shirt to give your boobs a gentle massage, rubbing your nipples, making you squirm underneath him. 
“You’re so pretty,” Jake said tenderly, staring at your face contorted in lust. So gorgeous and just for him. 
His fingers let go of your boobs to rush down to rub your clit when you whispered “I’m close, please, don’t– Don’t stop,” with a ragged breath, pulling him closer in a messy, hot kiss. The well-known wave swept through your whole body as your warm liquid coated Jake’s dick. “Fuck,” you rolled your eyes, enjoying your high before coming back to reality to watch Jake focused on now achieving his own climax. “You always fuck me so good, pretty boy,” you whispered while panting and caressing his sweaty hair, a bit overstimulated by his thrusts into you. He groaned and you felt his dick throbbing inside you. “Always fill me up so good, isn’t that right?” 
“Fuck,” he whimpered, lips parted while his whole body trembled on top of you, his release inside of you making you moan due your sensitiveness. 
“I guess we– We went too intense for a quickie, sweetheart,” he said in between heavy breaths. You laughed, kissing the top of his head. 
“You’ll need another shower.”
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You persisted in carrying on your plan whenever possible, loving Jake in all the ways you could, showing him how much of an amazing, attractive, irresistible and captivating man he truly was. 
Jake was thrilled with all the affection you were showing, not that you never did it before, but he noticed you being more obvious and confident about sexual talks; whenever you got turned on by him doing minimal things, you demonstrated through your words and actions. He knew how hard for you it was sometimes to be so open about your own desires, and he was genuinely happy that you were trying for him, but also unconsciously getting better for yourself. 
You were confident, so was Jake. You both created a bound so unique and powerful that could be scary sometimes, but worth it every second.
Jake appreciated every moment you voiced out your needs, now that you knew that he wanted to know any thoughts of your fantasies about him. 
On the other side, Jake maintained his whipped self as evident as ever.
Your smell all over the house, your gentle touches whenever you both decided to cook together, your laugh sounding far better than any tracks on the car radio, your cute pout when he had to go to work instead of being on the bed with you for a few more minutes, your presence being so notable when you both went out – and Jake feeling lucky to be the one holding your hands and making you giggle – and, of course, your lips always tasting like heaven, like home. 
Jake made sure that you felt needed, loved and cared as well.
And on that day he made one important decision, which was making him a bit more nervous than the normal as he drove you both to a little date on a distant beach you two discovered during one of your many car travels together. 
Paramore’s “Still into you” was playing on the radio and you were singing with a bright smile as if it was for him. He was so in love with you, soft eyes watching you whenever he got the chance, smile never leaving his lips. 
Jake was glad you couldn’t notice his heart beating fast – not only because of how gorgeous under the sunlight you looked, all happy, but due to his nervous self as well.
When he stopped the car, far enough to avoid any possibility of people seeing you two, he had one thing on his mind before putting his whole plan on work, breaking down the romantic atmosphere.
“I know it’s totally out of the blue, but I need to–”
“Eat me out?” You huffed a laugh, holding his hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re a bit nervous today, my love. Is it because of your presentation next week?” You asked, watching him pause his moves to give you a flabbergasted expression, making you laugh. “I know how to read you, pretty boy,” and with that you gave him a cute wink. 
Jake bit his bottom lip before stepping out of the car. You watched with a smirk as he walked around to open the door for you, just to pull you into a kiss and drag you eagerly to the backseat. 
You giggled in between the kiss as Jake leaned you fully on the seat, hovering you the way he could due the limited space. Both of you were glad that you chose to wear a skirt that day, so things should be a bit easier.
You felt Jake’s hand sneaking into your clothing piece to slowly rub your clit over your panties the same moment he trailed down his lips to nibble every sweet spot of your neck, the one near your ear making you whimper, your hands scratching his scalp gently.
“You have no idea of how much I’ve been craving you. All day thinking about your pussy on my mouth,” his low tone made you shiver.
“I’m all yours, my love,” you replied in a similar tone and heard him letting out a groan.
Jake took your answer as a green sign, his impatient fingers moving your panties to the side so he could start to pump it into you. He observed your soft features turning into lustful ones and  couldn’t hold back his urge to capture your lower lip with his teeth before smirking and going down on you.
“Legs on my shoulder, princess,” Jake said as he positioned himself between your thighs, mouth watering as if he was going for his favorite meal. With your help he moved your panties down just enough for him to dive into you with passion.
Your hands found comfort on his hair, as always. Not only did you loved to grab it, feeling the silky strands running through your fingers, but Jake enjoyed it as well, groaning with pleasure whenever you pulled a bit harder or guided him to ride on his face.
Jake’s mouth made its work on your cunt by sucking, licking and flicking his tongue every once and a while, his nose rubbing on your clit whenever he shook his head purposely to create that friction, hearing your pretty moans filling up the car. Your back arched, your hips bucked forward and your thighs tried to close every time Jake gave more attention to your sensitive clit. His name being the only thing voiced out by you in between moans. 
The sensation of Jake’s hair tickling your thighs worked as a stimulus as well, your body always responded to any of his touches with such intensity, as if you were made just for him. And you strongly believed you were.
“I’ve got you, sugar,” Jake said muffed when he noticed your walls clenching more around his tongue, you threw your head back, breath growing heavier and heavier, your mind doing a full spin because of how good Jake was working on you. “Cum for me, yeah? All over my mouth, babe.” 
And as if he gave you permission to have your orgasm, you did, your juices being drunk by Jake fervently while you screamed his name. You were panting when he leaned over to share your own taste with you. Jake helped you to get yourself together, giving you water and a tender kiss on your forehead. 
After you both recovered – mainly you –, you got out of the car to watch the sunset. As you normally did, you sat on the car hood with his help, and since the car was facing the horizon you both could watch it together in a hug, with Jake between your legs.
“Y’know what I was thinking of?” Jake murmured against your cheek. 
“What?” You asked back, gently playing with his hair. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks soothing the atmosphere. 
“When I once said I could watch a hundred sunsets with you, you’d still be the prettiest view,” he looked at you with tender, lovingling eyes. 
“Oh,” your lips curved in a sincere smile because of the reminiscence. “The first time we said I love you.”
“Yeah, I still agree with the last part,” he whispered, planting a small peck on your lips as you giggled. “But–” Jake sighed nervously, hesitant on his words. 
Your heart started to beat faster since you noticed a shift in the mood. “Yes, my love?”
“I don’t think a hundred sunsets will be enough, Y/N,” he said seriously and you noticed how his cheeks got colored by a light shade of pink. You blinked, confused. You watched Jake get a little box from his pockets, opening and showing you two rings, one of them having a moon and the other a sun. “Would you let me be with you for a bit more?”
Your lips parted in shock. Your eyes began to burn and before you could even stop it, tears ran down your face as you hugged him tightly, laughing in pure joy, repeatedly saying “yes”. 
Jake once promised you a hundred sunsets – and a bit more. 
Now you promised him your heart. A thousand times, if necessary. 
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Text
Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.
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Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.
Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.
Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.
Word Count - 3k
Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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You don’t remember the journey.
One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.
The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.
You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.
“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”
The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.
“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”
You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.
“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”
You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.
“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”
You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.
“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”
You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.
The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.
The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.
“Mama.”
You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.
She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.
“Where is he?”
“He’s in surgery.”
You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.
“What happened?”
Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.
“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”
She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.
“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”
She nods.
“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”
Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.
“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”
“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”
“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”
She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.
“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”
You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.
“Promise, Mama.”
She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.
“I’m so scared,” you whisper.
Bucky hears it clear as day.
He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.
“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”
Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.
“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”
You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.
It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.
Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.
If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.
Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.
Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.
“You’re all Jack’s family?”
You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.
“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”
“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.
“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”
The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.
As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.
They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.
“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”
Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.
“The nurse said there was complications?”
Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.
“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”
Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.
“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”
She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.
“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”
You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.
You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”
She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.
“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.
The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.
“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”
You both nod at him.
“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”
You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.
“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.
You hum in agreement.
“He looks out for you.”
You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.
“You guys are close, these days.”
You inhale calmly.
“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”
“He likes you a lot.”
Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.
“Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Dad.”
He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.
“How you feeling, tough guy?”
He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.
He groans a little, throat hoarse.
“Water?”
Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.
“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”
You both laugh.
“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”
Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.
“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.
“How you feeling, honey?”
“Fine. Tired, though.”
“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”
He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.
“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”
He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.
“She doesn’t like hospitals.”
Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.
You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.
Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.
The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.
You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.
Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.
“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”
The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.
“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”
You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.
“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”
You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.
“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”
The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.
“Bucky,” you choke out.
“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”
You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.
“There she is.”
You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.
“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”
You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.
Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.
“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”
You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.
“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”
There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.
“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”
You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”
“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”
“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”
“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”
Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“You never mentioned anything.”
“Didn’t think it was relevant.”
He hums.
“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”
“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”
You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.
“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”
“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”
You chuckle dryly.
“Maybe. I suppose.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.
“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”
You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.
“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”
You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.
“Buck, what is it?”
“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”
“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.
“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”
“… which was?”
He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.
“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
818 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 8 months ago
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Blurbo with Angie/Angel Milk [Femboy Cow Hybrid Yan] and Bunnyboy Streamer Darling because I think they'd be real cute together. Darling loves to bake because yes. (Darling is called boyfriend once but they/them pronounced used otherwise)
-
"Who's that next to Angel?"
"Dunno. Think he mentioned something about them being into baking? Would explain why they're in the kitchen together...."
"Wonder if they're dating...Angel has been in a pretty good mood lately."
"Kinda hope not.... I'd love to have that bunny guy for myself...."
Traitor- He knew he shouldn't have shown you off to these creeps.
When you first brought up the idea of becoming a streamer to your roommate - he was delighted. The change in career path meant taking less hours at that awful job you were working at, giving you more time to spend at home away from customers who berated you over the smallest things, or similarly as infuriating - tried to flirt. He could have you all to himself, leading up to the moment where your mutual feelings are realized and you confessed your undying love - yet there was something he failed to take into count.
Helping you get off the ground with your streaming was the biggest mistake he ever could've made. All these thousands of eyes on you now - a lovable rabbit with a passion for baking, especially for those you love. Who wouldn't fall in love with a cutie like that?! Why did he have to buy you that apron too- Angie has read hundreds of messages commenting on how precious your little tail sticking out the back is. It won't be long until they flood your own page - he has to do something before they get too cocky-
"Y/n~"
Centered on mixing cake batter to the perfect fluffy texture - the bowl in your arms tilters as someone bumps into you from behind. You catch the bowl as your roommate presses his chest to your back, hiding his face in your neck.
"Y/n, don't forget about me-"
"A-Angie! Be careful, I could've dropped this..... What are you even talking about?"
Angie sniffles, biting the wall of his lip to deepen in the pain in his voice. "I'm sorry! I was just reading through chat and I saw a few people already have a crush on you. Please don't forget about me when you get really famous. I'm here too!"
Placing the bowl on the counter, you wriggle in Angie's grasps til you're able to face him. "Angie, I could never forget about you. If I have any kind of popularity - it's all because of you."
"I know, but I really don't want to lose you. I don't know what I'd do if I did."
"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
Hugging your friend, the affliction in his voice fades away as he faces his laptop camera.
"Did you hear that, chat? My boyfriend isn't going anywhere! So don't get any funny ideas!"
"B-boyfriend?! Angie!-"
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months ago
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lies and love
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GIF by marks-hoffman
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: feels, fluff, a little angst, and some silliness.
words: 2.8k
notes: decided to not go full smut with this one, but there will be something smutty and probably bucky related posted soon lol thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so so appreciated! 🩵
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You suck in a sobering breath as you spot Bucky at the kitchen table, sitting with nothing but a mug of coffee in front of him and a stoic look on his perfectly chiseled face. His flesh hand is holding his head as he rubs at his temple with his thumb.
Are you really gonna do this?
Sam sees you in your pause at the corner of the hallway and comes up to meet you.
“You look like you’re having regrets, but I am begging you, please don’t go back on me now,” he whispers as you both look on at Bucky still alone in the kitchen.
“I don’t know, Sam… This feels kind of mean.”
“Don’t think of it as being mean, think of it as you making my day!”
You turn to fix him with an unimpressed look but he speaks before you can.
“And making an easy hundred bucks,” he adds with raised brows.
You sigh again.
“Come on! I heard all the jabs he’s taken at you this week, it’s not like he doesn’t have a little prank coming his way.”
You can’t help but agree with that. Bucky had been being a jerk to you this past week, you still have no idea why, but once he and Sam left for their mission, you had kind of forgotten about it in favor of the memory of him leaving that night.
Bucky showed up to your room just before he was due to leave, looking nothing short of conflicted and upset. You were starting to feel much the same. You and Bucky were close…had been close at least. This past week saw the most distance between you you’d ever experienced, and his added jabs at your expense out of nowhere had left you a little hurt, and even more so, perplexed. You had no clue what had happened but you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, like he always gave you when you had a needless attitude. You thought to just give him some space and when he was due home from this mission, you could talk and figure things out then. You normally would be at the jet saying bye and wishing safe wishes, but tonight you figured he wouldn’t be in the mood to have you there. So opening your door to find him looking so sullen was a bit of a surprise, although not an unwelcome one. You just didn’t want to be the one to speak first, you weren’t sure what he was there for and you didn’t want to assume.
So, you leaned on your door for a second, confused, waiting for him to say something… But he didn’t. You both just stood there, languishing in a tense silence.
It was only a moment later, though, that he surprised you even further. He took a step closer to you, still no words leaving his lips, as he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest for the tightest hug you’d ever shared. You returned it without thought, despite how he’d been making you feel the past few days. It was your natural reaction, and hugging Bucky always felt so nice, so right. This hug, though, felt a little different. Almost desperate… You knew something was up, and even though you knew you didn’t have the time right now to get into things, you had to ask him, you couldn’t not,
“Are you okay?” you questioned quietly, tone soft as he kept you close. But when you spoke, it was like your voice broke him out of some kind of trance.
He pulled away then, slowly letting you go as his intent blue gaze stayed on you.
“When I get back,” he rumbled lowly, “can we talk?”
Your brows furrowed, but you still nodded, “Yeah, of course.”
He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say more, but stopped himself before he did. He took a step back, eyes never leaving you.
“Be safe,” you told him as you rubbed your arm, hugging yourself - trying to replicate the warmth you were already missing. Your words earned you a sullen half smile before he finally looked away and headed back down the hall…
It’d been a long couple days.
Sam and Bucky had gotten in late last night and you hadn’t had the chance to talk with Bucky yet. In fact, this was the first time you’d gotten to see him since they got in. Sam, on the other hand, made it his mission to wait up until five am to ambush you in the gym with this incredibly juvenile plan of his.
“Tell me again why you want me to do this?” you asked.
“When Bucky was sleeping on the way back last night, he kept talking out loud, mumbling things… Look, truth be told, he probably has a concussion because he’s been in and out of it since he took a fall from the top floor of the building we were clearing, but he’s been being a dick to me since we left the other day so I don’t feel bad about messing with him a little bit.”
“And you think this is going to be believable to him because?”
“Because I mentioned your name when we were landing and he grabbed me by my shirt and told me to keep his girl’s name out of my mouth. He also very possibly thought I was Zemo telling by the threats that followed, but that’s beside the point. He asked me three times if you were single, if you and him were just friends, or if you guys were dating - not to mention the other questions he keeps asking me every time he sees me, so I know his head is all scrambled right now. But look, don’t think too much about it, I just wanna mess with him a little bit before I take his ass up to the med bay and have Bruce look him over.”
You almost fuzzed out completely at the thought of Bucky calling you his girl, but managed to stay listening enough to catch all of what Sam was saying again. Your gaze was dead set on Bucky as he groaned under his breath, picking up the mug to take a sip before he closed his eyes, squinting in what you can only imagine was a tinge of pain.
This is wrong, and mean, and normally, you wouldn’t do it. But, the selfish part of you, the desperate part, the part who has been in love with Bucky for about as long as you’ve known him, that part, doesn’t want to deny herself the opportunity to pretend, for however short of time, that she was actually his girl.
You know this is messed up, pretending to a possibly concussed Bucky that you are indeed his girlfriend for a little Sam brained prank…but you’re still gonna do it.
Plus, you have to talk to Bucky after this anyway, you’ll get your chance to apologize. And though you can’t be entirely sure what it is Bucky wants to talk about, you’re hopeful it’s an apology from his side, too.
“Alright,” you breathe, “a hundred bucks?”
“A hundred bucks,” Sam smiles.
You suck in your cheeks before you click your tongue and kick a foot forward, taking the first step around the corner to the kitchen.
You walk into the room and Bucky’s gaze perks up as he sees you, eyes wide, but not fully sure how he should be reacting.
You smile as he watches you, trying to gauge your approach as you walk closer.
“There you are,” you say, coming to a stop right beside him. The chair he sits in is angled out from the table and you let your hip lean close into him while you let a hand smooth over his shoulder, snaking behind his neck, squeezing him lightly as he sucks in a breath at your touch. He’s looking up at you, trepidatious and awed.
You lean down and your other hand comes to his stubbled cheek as you guide him closer to you.
“Hey,” you murmur, voice sultry without you even trying. You lean down into him and kiss him, it’s soft and sweet and all too quick as you pull away with a pout.
He still has that dumbfounded look on his face, lips parting too late as he gapes up at you.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, pout still in place, your fingers now playing in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Huh?” he murmurs dumbly, eyes glued to you as they twinkle.
“Kiss me back,” you complain, though even to you it sounds more like a plea, leaning back into him. He swallows hard before he follows your lead. Your lips press against each other, timidly at first before Bucky gets emboldened by your touch. You murmur into him as his hand comes around your backside, pulling you closer and then down to sit on his lap, his large hand on your hip as he holds you securely.
His once delicate kiss quickly delves into something more fervent and wanting as his hold gets tighter and more possessive.
You have completely lost the plot as you lose yourself in his kiss.
You’re in his lap, practically melting into him as you chase his every kiss, your hands lost in his hair as you try to keep him close to you in turn.
There comes a point in your impromptu makeout session that you are finally forced to pull away for air. You’re breathing hard as you stay in Bucky’s hold, still face to face with him as you try to get a breath in.
“Hi,” he finally greets back, sounding breathless himself.
You laugh a smile before you hear Sam enter the kitchen behind you, clapping loudly as your brows scrunch in confusion at the sound.
You turn your head to look at him as Bucky sends a glare in his direction, his hold on you tightening in his annoyance.
“Finally! Took you two bozos long enough. Now I don’t wanna hear anymore complaining from you,” he points at Bucky, “and I don’t wanna see anymore moping, longing puppy eyes from you,” he turns on you. “You’re welcome, and you’re welcome.”
“Wha-” you open your mouth to question him, but you’re stopped as he holds up a hand at you.
“I wasn’t entirely lying, but he already saw Banner and he’s been cleared. Now so is your conscience.”
“Wh-” Bucky begins, but himself is stopped by Sam’s hand now being held up to him before he turns it into a finger gun.
“You’re welcome,” he repeats before walking off, leaving both of you confused.
It’s a long pause between you before Bucky breaks the silence.
“What wasn’t he lying about?” he asks, voice hushed as he sounds almost embarrassed. His eyes are downcast as he stares at your chest, so close to his, but despite his sudden reticence he keeps his hands on you, ensuring you stay where you are.
You should tell him the whole truth, but you can’t get past the embarrassment yet… maybe later, you think. For now,
“Oh, just… something about you, calling me your girl,” you speak slowly, bordering on teasing as you shyly try to meet his gaze.
When he does look up to you, you can see him search your eyes to make sure you aren’t upset or offended or whatever he could possibly be worried about seeing there. But as you smile softly at him, his lips break into a small smile of his own.
“I, uh,” he huffs a nervous laugh, “I-”
“You?” you question as your smile wavers.
“Remember when I asked if we could talk?”
“Yeah,” you answer meekly, growing a little uncomfortable as you still remain in his lap.
“Can we? Talk?”
“Yeah,” you nod, moving to finally get off of him. Bucky doesn’t lighten his grip, though. Instead he holds you in place, squeezing your hip lightly to still you.
“Last week,” he starts, “I was being a dick to you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. I heard Jason in the gym talking about asking you out and how you had a date on Friday and I… I was upset. Hurt,” he adds, almost under his breath. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you, but I did, and I’m really sorry. I know I hadn’t made a move or anything, but I thought we were going somewhere, I thought we had something, so when I heard him talking about taking you out…”
“Bucky, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken more than five words to Jason since he started working here,” you’re quick to say. “I didn’t go out with him, he never asked me out, I - I don’t know why he would have ever said that, I,” you pause, catching your breath. “I thought we were going somewhere, too. Even if he had asked me, I never would’ve said yes. This is, this is what you wanted to talk to me about?”
He’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world as he takes in your words. He nods, “Yeah, I, I was going to apologize and then I was gonna tell you that Jason wasn’t the right guy for you. I was ready to get on my knees and beg you to not go out with him again.”
“Yeah?” you laugh lightly as you wait for him to continue, hanging onto his every word and very literally clinging onto his body at this point.
“Yeah. And then I was gonna tell you that I’m an idiot, and that I regret waiting as long as I did to say something, but that…”
You hear your breathing shake in his own nervous pause. His brilliant blue eyes shine back at you as his lips twitch in a half smile,
“I am so insanely in love with you. And the thought of you on some other guy’s arm drove me crazy. And it’s my own fault for not telling you sooner, for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated, taking you out, showing you off, holding you close,” he makes his point as his arms wrap around you snuggly, “but if you’d let me, I’d treat you right every day from here on out. Because Jason definitely isn’t the guy for you,” - you laugh at the face he makes when he says that, earning a smile from him in return, “but I’d like to be. If you’d have me.”
“Bucky,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck as he holds you, “I’ve never been treated better by anyone than I’ve been treated by you. You’re the best man I’ve ever known,” your voice wavers with your emotion. “You may think you waited too long, but honestly,” you tell him, “I’d wait forever for you if I had to.” You’re nose to nose as you let yourself lean into him. “I love you, so much it’s almost embarrassing,” you huff a laugh, closing your eyes as your lips brush his. Bucky doesn’t waste another second before he’s crashing his lips into yours, smiles and murmurs exchanged between the two of you in your embrace.
“So,” he breaks away with another soft kiss, “does that mean you’re available Friday night?”
“For you I’m available any night,” you smirk. Bucky laughs before nodding, “Good. I’ll be picking you up for dinner, then.”
“It’s a date,” you simper, melting into him as he pulls you close once more.
“God, I love being this close to you,” he says against your temple as he keeps you in his lap, your arms around him as you hug him, nuzzling into his chest. You pull back from him, earning a quiet groan he tries to hide as you inadvertently rub against his crotch. You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you do it again, adjusting yourself on his lap a lot more purposefully.
“Ya know,” you whisper lowly, “you could be even closer if you wanted to.” Your voice is laced with a quiet seduction for his ears only, and as soon as the words have passed your lips, you find yourself being held by Bucky’s strong arms as he carries you down the hall with haste. You can’t help your surprised laughter as you hold onto him, looking up at him with adoration you’ve never had for anyone else. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he gets to his door,
“I want to, hell, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to,” he husks as he shoves open his door.
He strides in and drops you on his bed, turning back just to kick his door shut as you watch him with heavy lidded eyes.
He pulls his shirt off and you let yourself lay back on your elbows on his neatly made bed as you refuse to break eye contact.
“Why don’t you give me an idea, Sergeant? And you can show me just how much you’ve been wanting to.”
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 10 months ago
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The Final Quest
Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader
Requested by: @reader-bookling123: hiii I had a request for Luke where it kinda takes place in the past but he was dating reader and they were deeply in love but on their quest somehow reader sadly dies and Luke is just heartbroken and angry and he’s mad that everyone just moved on from her and maybe some cute reuniting moment
Summary: How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods
Warnings: Angst, major spoilers for series, graphic description of death, suicide (technically), anger, resentment, pain, fluffy ending, Dionysus and Apollo slander
Word count: 5.5K
Masterlist
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Later A/N So I'm just now rereading Titan's Curse for the first time in like four years so I forgot that the Garden of Hesperides is west in the books. However, when I was researching the myth it was said to be some place north so I chose Canada. So that's why it doesn't reflect the book.
“Happy birthday, Luke,” my girlfriend smiled. Our lips were so close our noses were already touching. But just as I could feel the fleeting touch of her lips on mine, there was a flash of light, making her jump away from me in surprise. Looking over to the source of the light, I found my father standing three feet from us on the dock.
Neither of us had time to react before Hermes was speaking. “Hi Luke! Happy birthday. I have a gift for you.”
“Uh… th-thank you,” I tried to sound grateful but I was a little caught off guard and annoyed he ruined the moment.
“Oh, sorry!” he laughed, noticing my girlfriend who was still half in my lap. “How are you Y/N?”
“I- I’m well, Lord Hermes. How are you?” she asked nervously, awkwardly scooting away from me, moving her legs so their weight no longer rested on mine.
“Oh, no need with the Lord stuff. I may not be the god of prophecy but I am the god of gambling and I’m betting you two will get married. We’ll be family!”
“Father,” I tried to interrupt him as the embarrassment coursed through my veins, bringing heat up to my face. I didn’t even want to see Y/N’s reaction I was so nervous and embarrassed.
“Oh, right. Sorry kid. I forgot how much you teenagers hate sharing your feelings. But uh I’ve heard your prayers and offerings Luke and I have a quest for you.” My eyes widened. Finally. All my training would pay off. I could prove myself and go down in history as a hero. “I need you to get me the golden apples in Hesperides’ garden. Hera is getting a little too insufferable these days y’know?”
Y/N and I sent each other looks, our mouths open in hesitation. Our next words had to be careful. If we agreed to the wrong thing we’d be insulting Hera and I was sure she’d strike us down right here. She didn’t like demigods, to her we were an offense to marriage. Especially the ones that were a product of offense to her own marriage. “Thank you for the quest,” I carefully dodged his last comment.
“Of course, kid. Here, you’ll need this.” He snapped his fingers and in another blaze of heavenly light, a duffle bag appeared in his hands. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you back here when you bring me my apples,” he smiled, handing me the bag. “Uh, avert your eyes,” he warned. Waiting for us to cover our eyes, he disappeared in a golden spray of light.
When the world dimmed again I turned to Y/N. “Oh my god!” she yelled excitedly. She stood up, throwing her arms around me, almost knocking us both into the water. I laughed, hugging her tightly in return. “Luke, you’re gonna be a hero!” she gushed, pulling away so she could look at me.
“We’re gonna be heroes,” I assured her, placing a hand on her face. “Come with me,” I requested. My heart was thumping quickly in my chest out of excitement and nervousness. “We can be the Greek Bonnie and Clyde. Hundreds of years from now demigods will read our myths and say, ‘We can be like Y/N and Luke.’”
She looked at me, confused. “Luke, they were criminals and died tragically,” she laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Okay wrong analogy but you get the idea. Please, I can’t do this without you.” As much as I wanted my glory, I knew the Daughter of Apollo wanted it too. And I’d be damned if I couldn’t give it to her.
“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I’ll go with you.”
“Yes!” I cheered, hugging her so tightly I ended up lifting her off the wooden docks. She laughed as I began to spin, even almost spinning us into the cold water.
~
After talking to Chiron and getting my prophecy, Y/N and I were off in a car that Mr. D had somehow acquired. The only reason we were allowed to take it was because I was 17 and had a little driving experience from when I would take my mom’s car when she was too out of it to even get groceries. I shook off the thoughts as Y/N once again went through our supplies and plan. She seemed nervous even though I assured her numerous times we’d be fine.
“Drachma, cash, ambrosia, passports, drivers license, an enchanted map, and a bow and arrow,” she repeated the contents of the duffle bag. “The Garden of Hesperides is in northern Canada,” she mused, looking at the map. “Heracles defeated Ladon with a bow and arrow by piercing each head through the eye.”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” I assured, reaching across the center console to place a reassuring hand on her thigh. I left it there, rubbing calming circles on the skin of her leg with my thumb. “Heracles did it before…” I said, the words slowly dying as they came out. Heracles already did it. I tried to shake off the thought that I was just redoing a quest. They were so uncommon nowadays it was an honor to be chosen for one. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself to chase the doubt away. Besides, Heracles technically failed his quest, he didn’t bring them to Eurystheus. I would succeed in bringing them to the person who had requested them.
“What was the prophecy again?” she asked, still looking at the map.
I swallowed nervously. The prophecy was not optimistic for us. I couldn’t possibly imagine what we’d find out about each other on this trip that would cause us to lose our love for one another. “You shall go north to fruits, rare / Liar to liar, a father’s heir, / Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,” I repeated.
“‘You shall go north to fruits, rare,’” she repeated. “Obviously that means we’re going north to find the golden apples. “‘Liar to Liar, a father’s heir.’ Hermes is the god of lies. And I guess stealing makes you deceitful. Ergo, a liar… ‘Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,’” she repeated. I could hear the dread infiltrating her voice.
“Hey,” I interrupted her thinking with a squeeze to her thigh, “that could mean anything. Prophecies are just a guide. A starting point. It was so short and vague that we don’t even know if it’s talking about us. We’ll be fine,” I promised again.
“Yeah, of course,” came her voice. I glanced away from the road, finding a weak smile on her face.
“What kind of music does Dionysus have?” I asked, trying to change the subject. She opened the glove compartment, several things falling out of it.
She began to go through them. “Um, a concerning amount of Weird Al Yankovic.” I laughed as she continued to look through. She then gasped. “Oh my gods.” She held up something next to me that I took. I nearly slammed on the brakes as I glanced down at it.
I couldn’t stare at the CD in my hand too long so we wouldn’t crash but every time I glanced down at it I found a new horrifyingly wonderful detail on the album cover. It was Mr. D with the weirdest haircut I had ever seen. He was lying down on a cheetah print rug, his shirt was a zebra print and had the first several buttons undone so the viewer could see all of his glorious chest hair. That wasn’t even the most outrageous part. Mr. D was lying down next to a tiger with a gold chain around its neck. Hanging from the chain was presumably Mr. D’s stage name, “Dionomite” written in gold cursive and studded with diamonds. “We have to listen to this!”
“Already ahead of you,” she said, punching buttons on the dash. She took the CD from me and put it in. Once it was ready, our ears were immediately assaulted with the sound of various horn instruments being poorly played. “Did he play all the instruments himself?”
“Probably,” I answered as Mr. D’s voice came on. “Oh…” was all I could say as the squeaky singing made my eardrums bleed.
It was funny for a couple songs but then it just got annoying so we switched over to a single Beatles album.
~
We reached the Canadian border in only a couple hours. Thanks to the Mist we could drive as fast as we wanted without fear of mortal cops.
As we pulled up to the gate, the guard switched. Must have been a shift change. I thought nothing of it as I rolled down the window. “Passports?” the guard tiredly asked. His eyes were shielded by sunglasses despite the fact that he was under shade. I became wary but handed him the documents anyway. “Any plants, animals, dairy products, or drugs in the car?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“What’s the nature of your quest, demigods?” The customs officer removed his sunglasses, revealing a single eye. He then grew about three feet, revealing a cyclops.
“Hit the gas!” Y/N yelled beside me. I did, taking off. Now we had both a cyclops and the Canadian border police after us as I crashed through the plastic gate that went up and down. I swerved around guards and other cars, getting up on sidewalks and surely ruining the paint job.
But up ahead I could see them closing a heavy looking gate. Gods on our side or not we weren’t getting through that gate. So I swerved into the trees. “Hold on!” they were sparse enough that the car could fit in between the trees. Glancing in the mirror, I could no longer see border guards. But there was a 9 foot tall cyclops following us in the distance. Which would be fine, he’d never catch up to the car but the woods were getting thicker and now I didn’t know which way was the road.
Nature made its decision for me as I heard Y/N’s scream. “Luke look out!” But it was too late. A violent force stopped us and the car was suddenly still. There was so much force I was half afraid the cyclops had a friend but I just found a tree in the middle of the hood where the engine used to be. “Run!” I told my girlfriend, frantically unbuckling my seatbelt.
I ran to the other side, finding her struggling with the seatbelt. She threw the duffle bag at me before pulling out her knife and cutting the seatbelt away. When she hopped out, I took her hand. We ran further into the trees, the cyclops’ thunderous footsteps right behind us.
“Luke, we can’t run forever,” she breathed. She was right. We’d run out of energy before that thing did.
I thought for a moment, thinking of how we’d kill this thing. “At that big tree,” I pointed to a huge pine tree right in our path, “split up. Then we’ll circle back around and hit him from the side.” She nodded in understanding. We ran full speed at the tree until we each turned on the balls of our feet, dashing out of the cyclops’ path. The plan worked better than expected because he ran face first into the solid pine tree.
He crumpled to the ground, giving me time to retrieve my sword from the duffle bag. By the time I looked up, Y/N was already dancing around the beast, cutting him up with her knife. I jumped in, giving him the same treatment. We worked as a flawless team, striking and giving the other space as needed. Until finally, she cut the thing’s heels, forcing him to the ground. I took the opportunity to stab him in the eye, leaving behind only a pile of shimmery ichor.
When he was gone, I immediately pulled Y/N in my arms. Even at the relative safety of camp, I always needed her in my arms to calm down after battle. To assure myself that she was still there and I was still alive. The sound of her breath in my ear helped ground me. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, you?” Her face was still buried in my shoulder.
“Yeah. Sorry I crashed the car.” She chuckled, pulling away from me.
“You’re forgiven. C’mon, let’s go see what supplies we can save and start walking.”
While the car was unsalvageable, all of our stuff was fine. So we grabbed out backpacks full of winter clothes and started following the map. It wasn’t that bad now but it’d be cold by the time night fell so I forced Y/N to put on sweatpants over her shorts.
I was kind of hoping the map would take us to civilization where we could rest for the night but it just seemed to bring us deeper into the forest and we had no flashlight. As it got darker and colder I got more nervous. “We have to find some sort of shelter for tonight.”
“I know it’s dark but it’s not that-” A pack of wolves howling cut her off. “Okay, yeah,” she agreed. She began looking around. “Any chance you could climb one of these trees? I don’t really want to be on the ground.”
I shook my head. “Even if I could get up high enough I don’t think any of the branches would support us.”
She huffed. “Shelter it is, I guess.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the wolves,” I teased. She had just killed a literal cyclops but she was afraid of some dogs.
“Hey, I don’t mess with wolves,” she said sternly. “After I saw that one movie about the kids stuck on the ski lift. You wouldn’t catch me in the woods at night yet here we are.”
“What about Capture the Flag?” I asked as we started collecting stuff to make a shelter.
“Well that’s different. There’s like 30 of us out there.”
“Do you want me to start sticking with you during the games? You know, if a wolf wanders in?” I teased.
“I’ll make my own shelter for tonight, thank you very much,” she said matter o’ factly.
“No, no, no. I’m sorry,” I apologized, tugging her back to me as she tried to storm off to get supplies. “Besides, we need each other’s body heat to keep us warm,” I whispered teasingly.
“Not a chance out here,” she scolded me.
“Worth a try,” I shrugged. “Everyone knows you can better preserve body heat if you’re not wearing clothes.” She just gave me an exasperated look before walking off again. “I’m joking!” I yelled after her.
By the time we had the shelter built up only about an hour had passed. We used pine needles to try to protect out bodies from the cold ground. And we used our winter coats as a blanket since we zipped them together. We laid down in the shelter, still shivering despite our best efforts. I held her close as she curled up against my chest, her head tucked under my chin. “Get some sleep,” I told her. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “Wake me in a few hours and I’ll take over.” I agreed with absolutely no intentions of waking her up. Judging by how fast her breathing evened out despite her constant shivers, she needed the sleep more than me. In the morning she’d yell at me for not waking her but it was worth it.
~
We had only been walking for a few minutes when we came across sled dogs. Ten siberian huskies all laying around patiently, harnessed to a sled. “Maybe these were the wolv-”
“Shut up,” she warned, giving me a light smack against the shoulder. I laughed as she hesitantly approached the dogs. “Hey guys, you waiting for someone?” She slowly reached her hand out to one of the dogs who calmly sniffed it before licking it eagerly. She gave him some scratches behind the ear in return. “Awe you’re such a good boy.” The dogs were now all up, wagging their tails and whining for pets.
I went up to the sled, finding a satchel tied to it. Opening it I found dog treats and a note. “All good huntresses need a pack of wolves.” Underneath it was a crescent moon. I clenched my jaw, recognizing the sender of the gift. Her aunt, Artemis. Last year, during the winter solstice, Artemis and her hunters had visited briefly. One of the hunters, Zoe, befriended Y/N. And even after she had told them she had a boyfriend, they still tried to recruit her. It never sat right with me, the way Artemis seemed so okay with breaking up a relationship.
“It’s for you,” I told Y/N, handing her the note. I handed her the note and she took it. She just sighed before stuffing it back into the satchel. “I don’t know why she’s so determined to recruit you.”
“I don’t know either,” she said, already tying our stuff to the sled. “But she’s gonna be disappointed because I’m kind of really into this one guy. I don’t know if you know him but he’s the son of Hermes. He’s gonna be a great Greek hero.” Her praise was enough for me to let go of my anger. Stooping down, I pressed a kiss to her lips.
The pack of sled dogs was perfect for the Canadian wilderness except for one problem. There was no snow. Still, they managed to pull us so smoothly it was like snow.
Soon enough, we pulled up to a garden. If it weren’t for the fact that they were literally in the middle of nowhere, this garden would be unassuming. It had a white picket fence and looked to be about an acre. Thousands of different types of plants grew, enchanting us with its smell. Off in the distance, in the middle of the garden, I could faintly see the golden fruits, the sun glinting off of them.
“The nymphs never gave Heracles a problem,” Y/N shrugged. I nodded, cautiously opening the gate, sword in hand. She held the bow up, an arrow already knocked. A quiver of them were slung over her back.
We crept in quietly, watching for signs of danger. She would watch our surroundings and made sure no nymphs attacked us while I kept an eye on the multi-headed dragon, making sure he didn’t stir.
Once we were about 20 feet away, he still wasn’t stirring. Y/N kneeled down behind some greenery, lining up her arrow. She took aim and fired. The arrow bounced harmlessly off one of the many scale covered head. The beast didn’t so much as stir. She looked back at me, as if seeking assurance. I nodded, telling her to try again. But rather than just take aim again, she crept a little closer. I almost told her to get back but I was afraid the dragon would wake up at my yelling. I held my breath, heart pounding as she tried again. This time she sunk it right through the eyelid but before either of us could react, another head moved. It snapped at her, jaws clenching around her waist. My blood turned to ice as I heard her pained scream. It was so horrifying to hear my body seemed to turn to lead.
I needed to save her. I forced my body into a run. I slashed at the neck that was currently holding my girlfriend in the air. Ladon dropped her, not without a claw slashing at me in turn. I managed to dodge it, scrambling over to Y/N. I wasn’t even comprehending whether or not she was conscious or if she was alive. I was too busy trying to tug her away. Golden fucking apples be damned.
I reached her, grabbing her by her shoulders and trying to tug her to safety. But before I could make much progress, the beast’s claw was in my face again. But I noticed it too late this time, too focused on my girlfriend’s very pale face. The claw hit me in the face, sweeping me to the side. I couldn’t feel the pain but I could see the blood seeping into my vision. I tried to wipe it away but it just kept coming. With my non-blinded eye I could see Ladon going back to his prior position as if we were nothing. Like he wasted no energy maiming us. Nonetheless, it allowed me to grab her by the shoulders, shaking her awake.
“Y/N, we need to go!” I said frantically, worried he’d come back for round two if we didn’t get out soon. “Can you walk?” I looked down at her body and knew the answer. Her shirt was covering the extent of her wounds but teeth marks, each a few inches across, tore through her shirt and there was blood. So much blood.
“With help,” she said in a strangled voice.
“Okay, good,” I nodded. Her assurance eased me slightly. I slung her arm across my shoulder before pulling her up. She screamed as I raised her off the ground but nevertheless gritted her teeth and bore it.
“No!” she cried as I tried to wrap my arm around her to support her weight. I realized that in doing so I’d be pressing into her wounds. She sobbed in pain the entire time we slowly stumbled out of the garden. It pained me to hear her cries but I had to get her out of here. If I could just get her to the sled I could give her some ambrosia and she’d be fine.
When I finally got her outside the gate, I laid her down. I’d get her onto our transportation once she wasn’t in such a critical condition. “Hold on, I’ll get you some ambrosia,” I told her, moving toward the sled. But the weakest tug held me back.
I looked down at her, finding blood, sweat, and tears covering her face. “No,” she cried. Tears were pouring down her face as sobs wracked her body. “Ambrosia won’t help.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” I held her face. Oh, her beautiful face. My heart clenched seeing it twisted in agony. “You’re gonna be fine. I promised you. I’m not a liar…” Tears were falling down my face now. She’s not fine. I realized that I’d become an unknowing liar.
Her hand reached up to my face, her thumb swiping over my blood covered cheek. “You’re not a liar. We were doomed from the start.” She took a labored breath and deep inside, I knew it was the end for her.
“Come on, no. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave,” I cried. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my lap. As if physically holding on to her would keep her from slipping through my fingers like the wind. “Just hold on until I can get you to a hospital.”
“We don’t have time.” A small smile tugged at her face and I knew she was smiling through the pain for my sake. “I love you, Luke. Promise me you’ll move on?”
“What? No. You know I won’t. You’re the love of my life,” I insisted.
“Please, at least try?” she asked. “I don’t want you following me too soon,” she tried to joke. But her laugh turned into pained sobs as the movement hurt her body.
I cried harder seeing her in so much pain. Her breathing was getting shallower and more labored. “Fine, I’ll try,” I swore. Lie. “I love you. So much.”
“I’ll see you in Elysium,” she said through a peaceful smile. It would be a welcome sight if it weren’t for the blood bubbling up out of her mouth. I turned her to the side slightly so she wouldn’t choke on it but it wasn’t enough. The blood was coming faster and her body was shutting down. “I love you,” she whispered before her eyes fluttered shut.
“No, wake up!” I cried, shaking her slightly. “Wake up!” Her breaths were getting shorter and I was getting more desperate. “Do something!” I yelled up at the sky. Her father. My father. Anyone! But no one came. Her wounds didn’t stitch themselves together and her eyes didn’t open. I held her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder long after she stopped breathing. Even the dogs started howling at the gods when her heart stopped beating.
~~~
“That’s why I hate the gods,” I murmured to Percy, watching the scorpion slowly creep up his leg. “They finally granted me a quest. It was all I ever wanted. But it was a joke. All my father wanted to do was piss off Hera and he was okay with using me and my girlfriend as collateral damage. And her father, Apollo,” the name came out of his mouth like venom, “the god of prophecy and healing let his daughter die. He knew she was going to die, even before the quest. And when he had the opportunity to save her, he ignored her.”
“I’m sorry she died but-”
“No!” I cut Percy off. “It would be one thing if she just died but she died over a fucking prank war. She died an agonizing death. Her aunt, Artemis, intervened in our quest but she still let her niece die a slow, painful death. They didn’t even help me bring her back to camp so she could be buried properly. I had to bury her in the woods like I had killed her and was covering up a crime.” I swiped away a tear as I noticed it slip down my face. I still couldn’t decide what was worse. Feeling her die in my arms or leaving her out there in the woods to rot. “And to make matters worse, no one seemed to care that she died. When I finally got back to camp a month later, they just pitied me. I begged Chiron to let me and some others go get her so we could give her a proper funeral but he refused. And when I tried to get others to join me to convince him, no one would go. After a couple days no one seemed to care that Y/N L/N was dead. A week later, another Apollo camper was claimed and they just gave her bunk away to him. Like she meant nothing.”
“But why Kronos? I’ve never heard of a demigod turning away from the gods. Even when horrible things happened.”
I sighed in contentment, remembering the projection he showed me. “Because he can bring her back. We’ll be immortal and without pain forever. He showed her to me. He said she’s happy in Elysium but she misses me,” I smiled softly. “But she misses camp too,” I laughed bitterly. “Annabeth, Grover, she probably would’ve missed you had you two met. But she never got the opportunity. But now, with Kronos, I’ll get to give her everything she wants.” I looked over at the kid. He seemed so deep in thought I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. “Goodbye Percy,” I said as I stood.
“I’ll tell everyone at camp about you!” he called after me.
“If you make it. Pit scorpion venom will kill you in 60 seconds. Even if you do make it, I’ll still be long gone.”
~~~
I sunk the blade into my Achilles heel, destroying Kronos’ life source inside me. I laughed as I could feel him leaving me. And continued to laugh as I fell to the ground and felt my own life draining out of me. Looking up, I found Annabeth above me, her curls hanging in my face. “I’m gonna see Y/N,” was all I said.
Tears welled in her eyes as I felt her comforting hand stroke my hair. “Yeah you are. I know how much you missed her.”
“I’ll see you there too,” I promised her, just like Y/N promised me.
~
I stood in front of the Judges of the Underworld. I knew I messed up in my life but my sacrifice had to amount to something. And I had to get to Elysium. “Luke Castellan,” Minos read my name. “You are charged with… starting a war against the gods?” he read in disbelief. “Why were you not immediately sentenced to the Fields of Punishment?” If I still had a heart it’d be in my feet right now. I couldn’t go to the Fields of Punishment. “You should have cut your losses and taken the express line to the Fields of Asphodel.”
“Keep reading,” Rhadamanthus said, not even looking up from the papers.
Minos rolled his eyes but kept going. “Oh, you sacrificed yourself, killing Kronos and saving Olympus and all of humanity. Hmm. Well, you did still start a war with the gods.”
Aeacus leaned over. “Minos, this really is more of a formality than anything. All the gods have already given him a pass.”
Minos huffed. “Fine,” he picked up a gold gavel, “Elysium!” he declared.
Before I could even thank him I was transported into what looked like the Apollo cabin. It was strange, I knew this was supposed to be the Apollo cabin but it didn’t have all the bunks. It looked like a normal house but something about it felt so familiar. I looked around, realizing I was standing in the living room. This must be Y/N’s house, it even smelled like her. Decorating the walls were pictures of her and her friends and siblings. But on the mantle and side tables were pictures of us. I picked one up, noticing the fingerprint markings all over it. She must pick it up a lot.
Looking around, I found glass French doors in the kitchen that led outside. The view was breathtaking. Mountains rose up on either side of the bluest lake I had ever seen. I went outside, intending to enjoy the view. As I stepped outside I could smell fresh air and feel a perfect breeze. “Hey stranger,” a voice came from beside me. I turned, immediately letting out a choked sob as I saw her sitting there. She stood, coming to me and I immediately snatched her into my arms. She shushed me, stroking my back as I sobbed in her shoulder. “You came way earlier than I wanted but I’m glad to see you.”
I pulled away so I could see her face. The blood, sweat, and tears were gone. It was just her beautiful, perfect face. “You’re actually here,” I said, reaching a hand up to her face. I was terrified she’d disappear again just like she did when Kronos showed her to me in my dreams.
“I’m here. And so are you,” she smiled. “We’ll be immortal and without pain forever,” she swore.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Luke.”
~
Decades later we were opening our door to see Percy and Annabeth standing there. “Y/N!” Annabeth cried, jumping into my wife’s arms.
“Hey Annabeth!” she laughed, clutching the woman in a hug.
I looked over to Percy, finding him with smile lines and salt and pepper hair. “Hey cuz,” I smiled, extending my hand. Percy shook it and pulled me into a hug which I returned. I patted him on the back as I pulled away. “You know you can look any age you want here? You don’t have to be an old man.”
“I’m not an old man,” he insisted. “I was 80. Just anything older than 16 year old me looks old to you.”
I shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. I turned to Annabeth, giving her a hug too.
Y/N took Percy’s hand. “Percy, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Everyone from camp whose already here has said great things.”
He smiled at her. “I’ve heard the same about you,” he returned, glancing at me. “Well we brought blue cake for dessert.”
Masterlist
A/N Omg this is quite possibly the angstiest thing I've ever written. But it also has one of my favorite endings. Thanks for requesting this, I really enjoyed writing it
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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“Meet Me Halfway” by Black Eyed Peas - fluff for Jean Kirstein please i BEG i love this song so bad
Meet Me Halfway
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Can you meet me halfway? Right at the borderline is where I’m gonna wait for you.
Pairing: Jean Kirstein x reader (gn)
Word Count: ~2.1k
cw: red string of fate/soulmates trope, canon universe, canon divergent, spoilers up to Season 4, fluff
Summary: Jean’s red string of fate was loose ever since he was born. It seems like everyone but himself has found their soulmate here on Paradis. It’s only when the scouts finally head towards the sea that his string becomes a little less slack. Could it be that his fated partner is on the other side in Marley, behind enemy lines?
Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! I’ve been fascinated by the red string of fate/soulmates trope for a while now, so I wanted to try my hand at it here! This is just a little taste of this, maybe I’ll expand on this story in the future. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/saradika.
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The first time they ever see the ocean, they’re speechless, neither of them speaking to one another, taking in the breathtaking view. Cerulean blue shimmers throughout the entire expanse, nearly a mirror image of the clear sky above. It took them a few days to get here and Jean was beginning to doubt just how great this thing called “the sea” could be. He never expected anything like this, though. As if the picturesque scene before him isn’t enough to get his heart racing, for the first time in his entire sixteen years of living, the red string tied around his wrist, only for him to see and feel, finally tightened just the slightest. 
The lore behind the red string of fate is no secret among those living in Paradis. Each child is born with it cinched around their wrist; the other end supposedly tied to their soulmate. Jean’s has been slack since he can remember. That is, until now. While it isn’t as taut as some of his other friends, like Mikasa with Eren and now Armin with Annie, only he can tell the difference. It’s been a running joke since they found out the truth about the other side. Connie teases him and Sasha about it constantly. “Maybe your soulmates are in Marley? How does it feel to be bounded to our enemy?”
Sasha, like Jean, has never felt any differences in her rope throughout her lifetime. He turns to face her, pointing to his wrist, curious if she feels the same. Her jaw is dropped, and when she notices him signaling to her, she closes it, gulping loudly, slowly nodding. 
When they all dismount their horses to explore the water, Jean momentarily forgets about it, focusing only on how cold the ocean feels on his feet, how salty is tastes on his tongue, how incredibly far it reaches, surely farther than his eyes can see. It’s only after their skin starts to wrinkle that they retreat, sitting on the warm sand instead, watching the waves crash onto the shore. He nudges Sasha. “So, you felt it too, right?”
“Yeah, I did,” she answers, hesitant. She caresses her wrist in her other hand, biting her lip.
Connie butts in. “Felt what?”
“Our strings. They’re a little less loose now that we’re here.”
He smirks. “I told you! Your soulmates are on the other side!”
Jean leans back against his hands, groaning. “I don’t want my soulmate to be on the other side. The other side has been trying to kill us for hundreds of years! This is so messed up.”
Sasha hugs her knees, pouting. “I agree. This sucks.”
Connie pats her shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to marry your soulmate, you know. Plenty of people don’t! My parents weren’t soulmates, and they turned out just fine.”
“But you’re planning on marrying Hannah, aren’t you? Once this is all over?” Hannah is a childhood friend from Connie’s hometown, and the two have been in much more contact recently. 
He chuckles. “I mean, not right now. But yeah, maybe in the future…”
“So your argument makes no sense!”
“This is different though! If your soulmate really is in Marley, I think the universe will forgive you for not marrying our enemy.”
Jean groans again, staring at the glistening ocean in front of him, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they’re really out there and not here.” 
There isn’t much they can do for now, considering they have no means to get to Marley with the current resources they have. Jean buries it in the back of his mind, trying not to think about it while they spend the next month building a base near the shore. They anticipate a Marleyan ship to arrive soon, scoping the island before implementing their attack to capture Eren, the Founding Titan. What the other side doesn’t anticipate is Paradis being prepared to ambush them to carry out their own plan in infiltrating Marley. The first one arrives when they expect it. With Eren’s Titan abilities protecting the rest of them, they manage to capture the ship easily, taking those on-board hostage for questioning. Sasha, who is usually uninterested when it comes to matters not involving food, is surprisingly invested. She watches carefully from outside the tent, waiting for them to be released from their interrogation. Jean accompanies her, unclear about her intentions until she explains to him. “My string, Jean. It’s tight. My soulmate is in there.”
They haven’t talked about it since, both choosing to ignore it for the time being. Jean’s is still as slack as the first day they arrived here, and if he’s being honest to himself, it’s crosses his mind nearly every day. A small part of him wishes he was experiencing what Sasha currently is.
Eventually, a young man with brown eyes and blonde hair steps out, looking terrified. He glances at his wrist, then his surroundings, landing his gaze on Sasha’s, who’s peeking from behind a box. She gasps loudly upon eye contact, kneeling down to hide completely. Jean does the same, not before noticing the man make a similar expression, surely curious.
Sasha doesn’t say anything more about it, though Jean can tell she’s intrigued. A few days later, like fate, the man who they find out is named Niccolo, starts working at the port as a chef. Sasha is smitten as soon as she takes a bite of his food, and from then on, the two are inseparable. Jean can’t help but feel jealous. 
With all of his friends acquainted with their soulmates, Jean is growing more and more impatient by the day. It takes over two years for Paradis to organize their first trip to Marley and he’s among the first to volunteer, not only to help the scout’s reconnaissance of enemy soil, but for his own ulterior motive to finally find his soulmate. He doesn’t disclose this to anyone, though he’s certain that his best friends have a hunch. 
When they finally arrive to Marley, it’s stimulation overload. They attempt to stick together as soon as they step foot off the ship, though it’s difficult when there are so many new and exciting things to try. It’s especially hard for Jean when he notices his string getting more and more taut with each step he takes deeper into the city. 
They all decide to split up momentarily to explore, agreeing to meet back at the port in an hour. Jean and Connie follow Sasha through the crowded streets. She’s being led by her noise and eyes, searching for the tastiest, most delectable looking treats to try upon Niccolo’s instructions. “You have to try ice cream!” he told her days before they departed and it hasn’t left Sasha’s mind since. She sneaks glances at the small note he gave her, trying to match the words he wrote to the storefronts. “There! I see it! An ice cream parlor!” She rushes towards a colorful shop, pushing her face towards the glass window, drooling. Connie drags her towards the entrance, which dings as they walk through. Jean increases his pace to catch up and the string around his wrist is tight now. He scans his surroundings, trying to see what direction the little rope is pointing to. As he follows his friends inside the shop, it’s unbelievable taut now, and he’s certain that his soulmate is inside this ice cream parlor. His heart races, simultaneously terrified and excited to meet you. 
~~~
A little over two years ago, you notice the string around your wrist feels heavier on you than usual. You’re often teased about your soulmate being an “island devil” on Paradis, considering you’re the only Eldian left in Liberio without a one. In all honestly, it doesn’t bother you, the idea of your destined partner being on the other side. Even if they are an “island devil”, you’d still like to meet them. After all, you’re soulmates for a reason, right?
You spend several minutes each day sitting at the port, staring out towards the sea, wondering what they are like. You ignore the propaganda that’s been spewed at you since birth and instead fantasize about what their interests are. Do they like the same things that you do? What do you have in common, besides the rope that ties you together? How much taller or shorter are they, what color hair do they have? Do their eyes twinkle with kindness the way you picture they do? Will their smile be as charming as you imagine it? You dream about this for over two years, slowly letting the fantasy fade into the back of your mind before you lose your sanity. It’s easy to obsess over something, but it’s hard to get out of it once it consumes you. There’s no guarantee that you’ll ever meet them at this rate, so you go about your life as usual, distracting yourself from any romanticized ideas of your uncertain love story.
Today, you’re behind the counter of the ice cream parlor you work at. You started working here several months ago, hoping to be near the port in case one day, they arrive. The past few days, you convince yourself it’s just your imagination, the gradual tightening of the string. This morning, it’s tauter than it’s ever been before, and you’re certain you’re not making this up anymore; they’re here, they’re actually here. 
There isn’t time to go looking for them yourself, so you begin your shift, itching for the hours to pass quickly so that you can leave to begin your search. Fortunately, you don’t have to. Two people around your age enter the shop first, behaving oddly. They’re dressed normally, though something about them piques your interest. It’s especially alarming at how stiff the string is now, so you inspect each of their wrists carefully, dejected when you don’t see a match. The girl presses her nose to the glass, ogling at the ice cream displayed in the freezer, drooling. Her friend, a boy with a shaved head, tugs her off, apologizing with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about her. She gets a little crazy when she sees something she wants.”
You smile at them. “No need to apologize. Our ice cream is the best in town, so her reaction is understandable. What would you like?”
The girl blurts out, “Everything!” 
“Sasha! We don’t have enough money for everything!” 
She pouts, eyes flitting across each flavor. “But they all look so good! How am I supposed to decide which one to pick?!”
Feeling generous, you offer, “I can do a sampler platter, if you’d like.”
Sasha’s face brightens. “Really?! You’d do that? How much would that cost? Connie, how much do we have?!”
You wave them off, beaming at them. “It’s on the house. Consider it some good old Marley hospitality.”
They gawk at you, shocked, and it only makes you giggle louder. You retrieve one of your larger bowls and ready your scooper, starting at one end of the freezer. The bell on the front door rings, but you’re too busy to greet the new customer directly. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!” 
It’s only now that you realize how stiff the string is, practically quivering now from being pulled so tight. You look up and see a young man staring at you, holding his wrist up with the same red string coiled around him, an uneasy grin on his face. “Hello.”
You almost drop the scooper into the carton, astonished to have finally found him. “Hi,” you say, heat rushing into your cheeks, taken aback at how handsome he is. “Um, let me just finish this.”
“Jean, you’re distracting our new friend here! She’s giving us all this ice cream for free!” Sasha exclaims, salivating over the bowl overflowing with ice cream now. 
He smiles at you, running his fingers in his hair. “Sorry. Please, continue.”
It takes you a few seconds to refocus back on your task. Eventually, you scoop all twelve flavors into a bowl, handing it off to Sasha and Connie, who dig in immediately as soon as they sit down. You pass a spoon to Jean. “Would you like to try? Before your friends finish it off?”
He laughs, grabbing it. “I guess I should, right?”
“Or I could scoop your own if you’d like. Which one do you want to try?”
He studies each carton carefully, pointing at your favorite flavor by coincidence. “This one is calling out to me for some reason.”
Your heart beats quicker, amazed by this serendipity. “That’s my favorite,” you admit, getting him a scoop.
“I had a feeling it would be,” he replies, beaming.
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manicpixiefelix · 10 months ago
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he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue
{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }
Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.
{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?
Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.
A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
One hour and fifty three minutes.
Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.
Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.
One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.
He can do a lot in two hours.
Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.
Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.
Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.
So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.
Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.
On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.
Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.
And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.
And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.
"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.
"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.
Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.
"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.
And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.
"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.
"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.
There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.
Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.
Two hours.
Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.
There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.
From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.
On the back, he'd written '12:07'.
"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.
The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.
With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.
And it's not Felix's grandmother.
"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.
Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.
"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.
"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"
"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.
"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.
Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.
It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.
Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.
"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.
"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.
"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"
"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.
Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.
"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.
"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."
"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.
"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."
Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.
Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.
"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."
"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.
"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -
"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"
Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.
"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"
"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"
Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.
"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."
Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.
"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"
"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.
They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.
"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.
"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.
"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.
"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.
Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.
"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.
"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"
Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.
"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.
"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.
"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.
"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."
"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.
"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."
Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.
But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.
"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.
And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.
He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.
He knew you were dying.
He'd left you alive.
Two hours.
The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.
"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.
"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.
He nods again.
"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.
You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.
"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."
Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.
In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.
"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.
"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"
"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"
"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.
"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.
"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.
"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"
"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.
"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.
"What?"
"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.
"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.
"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."
God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.
He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.
Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.
Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.
Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.
Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.
Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.
The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.
He should have listened.
"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.
"'course Felix, what is it?"
Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.
"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.
"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.
"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"
Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.
"Felix, I-"
"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"
Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -
"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."
"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.
In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -
"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."
This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.
"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.
Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.
Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -
"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.
"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."
The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.
"Just send me away already," he drops his head.
"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.
"Yes."
Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.
"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."
At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.
It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.
There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.
Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.
Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.
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stuniolvs · 9 months ago
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IM LITERALLY BEGGING ON MY KNEES RN DO AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS W MATT PLEASEE 🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
sweetheart m.s.
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another sickfic im sorry! please leave requests!
not proofread.
you’re currently getting ready to go to a party with the triplets you put on a simple dress, converse, and curl your hair. 8:54, the clock reads, nick said that he’d be here around 9.
you’ve known the triplets since freshman year but every time you see matt he’s rude to you.
its always some snarky comment about your looks or how you’re ’so annoying'
on cue, you hear matt honk outside and you hop in the car next to nick. you are about to thank matt for picking you up before he says.
“dont you think your hair is a bit much?” he mumbles, although you can hear it very clearly.
you look down at your lap and fiddle with your fingers, you then start trying to fix your hair, flattening it.
“y/n, your hair looks pretty” nick says smiling at you.
“thank you” i smile but still feeling hurt by matts comment. ive always felt just a little bit different about matt.
i used to talk to him all the time, we were best friends and then at the start of sophomore year he just ghosted me.
‘sweetheart’ he used to call me.
you exit the car arms linked with nick. “i like your shirt chris!” you compliment looking down at his camo shirt.
“thank you, y/n/n. i love your dress.” he says. you nod at him, smiling entering the house.
matt clenches his jaw hearing chris compliment you. he quickly relaxes when he sees you biting your lip. he immediately remembers how one of the first things you bonded over was your anxiety and you told him that you always bite your lip when you're nervous.
he walks behind you just to make sure no one gets too close to you.
as you guys go and get water you feel a small pain in your stomach. you can’t tell if its from anxiety, sickness, or both.
after about 45 minutes of wandering around, talking to a couple people before settling on a couch.
your next to matt with nick on the other side.
“no, yeah” you hear the random guy say, ryan, you think his name was. “hold on, im gonna go re-fill my drink” chris says. “me too.” nick and ryan say at the same time as they all leave.
you and matt sit on the couch as there’s like a hundred people surrounding you slowly getting more, and more stuffy.
you start to feel really nervous, your stomach hurts and you have anxiety with means you also have anxiety about your stomach hurting which makes it hurt more.
“matt?” you whisper. “what?” he snaps. his eyes softening when he sees your nervous state. you pull your feet up to your chest, pulling down your dress.
“what’s wrong sweetheart?” you hear him whisper. he places his hand on your back rubbing his thumb softly over the fabric of your dress.
your heart start beating rapidly. “i dont feel good matt, my stomach hurts and my anxiety is bad which is making my stomach hurt"
“im sorry,” he pulls you to his side wrapping his arm around you. “im so sorry about everything y/n. i dont know what i was thinking. over freshman year i started to like ou and then i got scared to i started being rude. im so stupid and i should’ve never done tha-“ he’s cut off by you hugging him landing on his lap. “im in love with you sweetheart” he confesses.
your heart pounds “im in love with you matt.” you speak, he blushes, tucking his head into your neck.
“does this mean im your boyfriend?” he asks “ do you want to be my boyfriend?” “of course” he flushes. “then yes.” you kiss him on the forehead “i wanna kiss you really bad but im 100% sick, my head is pounding.” you admit.
he kisses your temple and pulls back to kiss your stomach. he places a soft hand on the back of your head pushing you into his chest. “rest for a second sweetheart. im gonna text chris and nick.” he says, you nod.
after a couple minutes he lifts you from your thighs caring you to the car while you slightly regain consciousness. “mm-baby, where?” you ask, he blushes at the nickname.
“chris and nick are gonna get an uber, lets get you home so i can take care of you.” he states, setting you in the passenger seat.
once you get back to the house he sets you in his bed. he then grabs sweatpants and a t-shirt of his to change into.
“one sec, im gonna go get some stuff.” he says through the bathroom door.
he comes back with medicine, water, and your favorite blanket you always use when you come over. your just standing there unsure wha to do.
he sets the stuff down and picks you up laying on the oppsite side of the bed that he lays on.
you take the medicine then he tucks the blanket around you then he puts his duvet over you.
“will you lay with me?” you ask “of course, if you want.” “please do,” you say.
he changes into sweatpants and a hoodie, in front of you. you blush. he climbs into bed pulling you to his chest.
he pulls you in, cupping you cheeks. as your lips meet the kiss is soft and passionate expression so many emotions. after a couple of minutes he pulls back “why the fuck did you just kiss me? im sick.” you respond. “im sleeping in the same bed as you, its inevitable.” he states, smiling.
“i love you sweetheart"
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wordbunch · 1 month ago
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Time to say a handful of things abt s02 finale!!!
under the cut so you can avoid it! :)
However I am very much looking forward to reading everyones comments opinions feelings etc ♡
Did I expect to cry over the death of freaking king durin in the first 0.3 minutes??? That scene was so incredibly well done and I was like omg am I glad to be witnessing this for the first time🥹😭 yes I'm still pissed I couldn't see LOTR in cinemas cause I was still in freaking diapers
NAAARSILLLLLLLL narsil our beloved, I was squealing, yes OUT LOUD. narsil bbygirl you will always be famous 💅🏻 elendil go slay
I know yall pay him dust but ISILDUR I always love to see him and I love him and theo being the resident trouble brothers duo (its giving merry and pippin but Doomed). Sorry not sorry but yall moved on too fast (I DIDNT!) from the fact he feels guilty for his moms death. pls i am HUGGING HIM! his doe eyes I am deceased. pls I just want to stare at his face for eternity. MY PERSONAL HEADCANON WAS CONFIRMED 😩💦 that boy kisses like he is STARVEDDDD
[Redacted thoughts here]
Stranger yes we knew he was gonna be gandalf but. I love a name drop. I love Tom and I love choosing friendship over power and I love the staff and I love everything . They're giving me my childhood dreamlike feeling and I am so grateful I get to see a glimpse of that story 🥹💛
So many SPEECHES foreshadowing SO MANY THINGS. I am obsessed. The absolute cruelty of celebrimbors death and the death of his works....the one SINGLE TEAR on annatars face....dare I say peak p o e t I c cinema.
Where do I even begin with HALADRIEL ✨️✨️✨️ charlie the lord of acting and just like. in his eyes you can see everything and more. I need to write a dissertation on their duel istg
The way he didnt hesitate to absolutely PURR "GALADRRRIEL" every. single. time. [Redacted thoughts]
I WOULD HAVE PLACED A CROWN ON YOUR HEAD.
do you want me to like die?????
I SEE YOU.
yes actually they do want me to die.
HUMAN HALBRAND???
And RIP to me indeed.
[Ultra redacted thoughts]
I audibly WHIMPERED. sweet lord i was like My poor babygirl has to endure this manipulation 😩😩😩😩 he stooped so low and I was so here for it but girl i would have F O L D E D 😔✊🏻
Then galadriel on galadriel violence??? The only thing better than galadriel TWO galadriels actually.
but then.
the elrond and rivendell of it all. rob aramayo has never looked more gorgeous than when he took nenya to heal Gal. WE GET TO SEE HEALER ELROND GROWING INTO HIMSELF WITH OUR OWN EYES!!!! you don't UNDERSTAND i spent 20 YEARS dreaming of rivendell and now I get to see it coming to be!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭💚💚💚💚 the way that you can see gears turning in his head as he takes the ring. the camerawork ate and devoured i fear - with your own eyes you can see him growing. developing. like yes I am feeling more ready to take charge of some things. what if I CAN do it. what if I CAN make so many things and people so much better????
and u will babyboy 🥹🥹🥹🥹
Do i even need to add i had full body chills at the scene of elrond,gil,galadriel and arondir!!!!!!! on the cliff!!!!!!
BITCH THE SUN STILL RISES!!!!! Pity CAN defeat sauron!!! friendship and light DO WIN over darkness!!!! The tolkienism of it all. i will rewatch a hundred times and then some.
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importantgalaxyrunaway · 10 months ago
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the snap (Matt Murdock x fem-reader )
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Summary: after the blip Matt was blipped away. But what happens when he shows up after everyone comes back?
Part 2 Warnings: angst, I mean it this time ok? I teared up writing this. But with fluff it has a happy ending trust me. Im dyslexic so there are probably/definitely going to be spelling errors. (I’m trying yall. Let me know how I did my first fic for Matt I think I’m going to make a part 2. Please comment if you can and reblog are appreciated if you want ❤️) mentions of pregnancy and childbirth and children
My eyes take in the childrens bedroom. It was small and quant but cozy. The nightlights lit up the room and my five year old daughter was layed down on the soft pastel blankets. I sit down on the side of her bed. She was so beautiful, her sweet brown eyes and brown hair. Her name was angel Murdock, She resembled Matt so much, sometimes it even hurt to look at her. It showed his best attributes on her. Even though she was only five years old she was already fearless, the teachers at the preschool always say she’s already getting in fights with the bullies in the class, no fist fights yet thankfully. It was her bedtime so you were finishing up reading a story to her about a princess and prince who fought a dragon.
“And they lived happily ever after the end” I kiss her forehead. And get up from her sleepy form.
“mommy, why do all the other kids have dads?”
Her question struck me in the heart. Leaving a wound size I couldn’t even patch up after patching up so many of Matt’s wounds. But I remain calm and collected like her words were just a simple question. Which they were, she’s just a curious child, there is no way that she knows how deeply I am affected by them. I twist my diamond ring on my finger and bite my lip trying to figure out how to answer this question without terrifying her. I can’t lie to her, I promised I would never lie to her.
“Angel, your father….went away. Hes gone he went with another half of the universe”
“will he be comeback?”
“no, no he won’t” I answered quietly trying to keep myself from sobbing. God I feel so weak, it’s been five years! Fiver years and I still can’t get over his death
“did he leave because of me?”
“no! No, he never knew about you sweetie. He was taken before he knew”
I take a shaky breath and kiss her on the forehead “goodnight” I leave her now asleep form and creep to the kitchen. I look down and the sink and I can’t take it anymore. Grief racks my body as sobs come out in waves. Why? Why did you have to leave I know you didn’t do it on purpose but why? It’s so unfair. Mathew I miss you. I know The city needed but mainly I needed you. I bring my knees up to hug my chest. I feel so weak, so fucking weak it’s been 5 years and I still haven’t recovered. I tpull myself together and wipe my tears mainly because I hear noises outside. A lot of noises. Screams, cries, laughter, sobs. I run to the window and open the curtain. Hundreds and hundreds of people are flooding the streets. Some are hugging, kissing, others are just staring in disbelief. Poeple are running in all directions and so so many of them are confused. Who are these people? Where did they come from? Could they he the ones who were snappe—
Knock! knock! knock!
the noise of someone at my door shattered my trail of thoughts like a broken mirror, breaking me of my trance. Who on earth. Or any planet for that matter would be calling to me at this hour? I tentatively get up. Cross the room and open the door, I was not prepared.
there. Right there stood my husband dead for 5 years after the blip. He stood in his lawyer suit in the doorframe. Just as he was before he left. He’s exactly the same. To him no time has passed at all. But I’m sure he’s heard it’s been 5 years on the streets. My body is rigid from shock utter shock. He takes off his red glasses so I can see his face again. A small gasp escapes my mouth as my eyes lay upon him again. Hes so gorgeous it actually hurts. Makes my heart ache. To say I felt conflicted would be an understatement I was downright a wreck inside. He so damn pretty. Was all I could really think. my shaky hand reaches up and caresses his face as if feeling he’s actually there and this isn’t some hallucination.
“sweetheart, I’m real” he smiles
“I-i Matt you were dead—you-you—oh!” I choke out in sobs
I seizes his head and he walks closer to me closing the door. I kiss him desperately like a woman starved. The kiss is searing and leaves us gasping for air. As soon as we break the seal we dive into it again and I let out a small whimper that allows him to slip his rougue into my mouth. I immediately submit to him and let him take the dominance. After sometime in a log swaying kiss. We stumble towards the couch where he tries to explain to me what happened but with me kissing his neck desperately it’s hard for him. In the five years he was gone I never took a lover. I couldn’t bring myself to. I was always thinking about Mathew even if he was just in the back of my mind. Especially as I walked down the more dangerous streets of Hells kitchen without him.
“sweetheart—sweetheart— “ he lets out a small groan that is music to my ears “are you going to let me know what happened or let me explain” he laughs.
I pull back and bip my lip “sorry”
”I know five years have passed someone on the street told me that after they did I ran to find you I’m sorry—“ his head tilts to the side as if he’s picking up something “there’s another heartbeat in the apartment”
I take his hands “Matt this is a lot to take in I know but….”
“y/n you can tell me anything” the way my name rolls of his toung sounds like honey. He runs his finger over my silk nightgown, his favorite fabric. He takes his time training my figure and them cup up to claps both my hands again “anything”
Reassured now I start my tale “the day of the blip was also the day I found out I was pregnant. Turns out half the universe was blipped away. You’ve been gone for five years now. The pregnancy was hard, half the doctors were gone, you were gone. Without many people to support it was hard but, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, who looks so much like you. I named her angel Murdock.”
he’s silent for a bit. I feel sorry I know how much it is to take in “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you sweetheart. I left you and everyone behind. God I feel so guilty.”
“Mathew there is nothing to apologize for! You couldn’t control it!”
We’re silent for a bit and I wonder if he’s listening to angel’s heartbeat. He beams “I can’t believe I’m a father.” He laughs “ironic isn’t it?”
“what is?”
“the devil is the father of an angel” he muses. His face is bright and happy
“I never thought of it that way” I ponder “she’s already fearless like you”
“Hm, maybe not a good thing. But she sure has the Murdock fighter genes. I’m just sorry I missed the pregnancy and everything”
“well we could always try again?”
“I’d love that” he purrs into my ear in his deep voice. And his head rests in the crook of my neck as he leans into my body. And I’m so so starved for touched after all these years I hold onto him like he’s the last thing in the world. I practically melt into his touch as I haven’t been intimate like this in so long.
“don’t leave me” i whisper
“no sweetheart” his strokes my hair “im never leaving you again”
it feels so comfy with his bodyweight on mine on the couch we don’t even bother to move to the bed as we fall asleep there that night not wanting for a second to leave each other’s arms. It would be hard to explain to to angel who this man she never met was will figure that out in the morning. Things are always better in the morning. No things are always better now that’s he’s back. Everything seems fixed, my whole world.
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underhousearrestblog · 2 years ago
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Self-Sabotage | Neymar Jr.
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(summary) when things get tough with your boyfriend, you do the only thing you know – run, and Neymar is not having it
(warnings) toxic-a$$ behavior... from you, luv... history of emotional abuse and neglect (not between the main couple), insecurities about relationship
(pairings) Neymar Jr x reader
(genre) angst, fluff
(reminder) Y/N – your name
(word count) 3.6k
(also) didn’t proof-read but I’m pretty sure I used the term ‘girlfriend’ and she/ her pronouns somewhere there...
HAPPY READING!
You stared at the article in front of you. After the initial shock of seeing the headline and the attached photo, now all you felt was void. Staring numbly at the gossip page, you felt tears rush to your eyes.
Famous Brazilian soccer star Neymar Jr.’s girlfriend cheating?
The attached photos showed you with a friend of yours hugging in quite an intimate manner in front of a hotel. There were already a few hundred comments on the article – some of them ripping you to shreds, some feeling sorry for the soccer star, some hoping it’s not what it looks like.
You had stopped reading comments a long time ago, not really caring for other people’s opinions. Still, it hurt how many people were hoping for your relationship to end.
None of the pictures showed any kisses or otherwise compromising actions but it didn’t take much for your boyfriend’s fans to take something half-baked and run with it. From the vague article and pictures, it could be a date you’re on and it might as well be just running into someone on the way out.
Two pings went off, indicating two new text messages. First was from the friend who informed you about the article.
I’m so sorry, luv.
You wanted to both cry and laugh.
The second was from Neymar. All it said was:
On my way home.
Whenever he texted you that, it usually took him about twenty minutes to get home. You had twenty minutes to get away.
Your thought process might be stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cheat. You shouldn’t run. However, your past experiences showed that people, when having even a gram of doubt, could become aggressive. Blame you for things you didn’t do. Say really ugly things. Of course, you wouldn’t describe Neymar with those behaviors but did you really know him? Had only dated for six months... He had probably just seen his partner on the front page of a gossip magazine for alleged cheating... Were you really sure he would believe you?
Once the logical part of your brain kicked in, there was no turning it off. The scepticism and anxiety, your usual companions, were creating scenarios in your head, despite you trying to hope for the better.
He’ll probably will ask me to leave – that was the best case scenario, you thought, stuffing some of the stuff you kept at his place into a bag, I should probably let him cool off anyway before I suggest talking.
You had seen situations like these far too many times – some of your friends blowing up in suspicion that their spouses had cheated, your parents frequently accusing each other, reading horrible news headlines of people getting violent, thinking their partner had cheated.
You knew that running away just added to the possibility of you coming off as guilty – that will be something you’ll have to be okay with. Did you think Neymar would become violent? Not really. However, him looking at you with suspicion and accusation would hurt just as much.
Most of your shit had to stay at the house, you would have to come collect it later. If your boyfriend hadn’t thrown it out himself already. So you packed only the essentials or things that would be hard to replace, in case Neymar actually threw them out. Some clothes, electronics, toothbrush, makeup, vallet and keys.
Keys...
Should you leave his key behind? In that case you should probably write a note or something. But what could you say? I saw an article lying about me cheating, so I went to clear my head, here’s the key, I will be back for the rest of my shit...
Probably should keep it for now... Could use it to come by for your stuff unnoticed.
Once everything necessary was packed, you went to leave and - ever the unlucky timing – the moment you opened the front door from inside, you ran right into Neymar. His fingers were picking out the right key to open the door and, while his gaze was casted down, you had just the right time either consciously or on accident to drop your bag behind the door.
Once he lifted his eyes, they quite literally lit up and he grinned, as he took you in. Disheveled hair, a wild look in your eyes and out of breath – to him you looked like a wet dream, at the same time you tried to steady your breathing enough to not literally pant.
- Hey, sweetheart, - you made no move to move aside. – I texted. Practice ended sooner than expected.
When you still made no move to let him in, he looked you over in more careful fashion, looking for something that’s wrong. You were in a hurry to leave, so, of course, hadn’t thought of the possibility that you could run into your boyfriend.
I shouldn’t have wasted time packing, you mentally berated yourself, but he clearly hasn’t seen the article yet, so what’s the harm of talking for a few minutes?
You forced a smile that, hopefully but unlikely, looked genuine. While moving aside to let Neymar in, you opened the front door with more force than necessary intentionally, sending the bag under the small table by the front door.
While he took the cap and boots off, you closed the door and leaned against it. He fidgeted with shoelaces and you fidgeted with excuses. He talked about something one of his teammates had announced at the practice, but you were only half-listening. Before he went into the kitchen, Neymar turned to you and with an amused smile said:
- Are you coming or leaving?
- I, - you stammered out, - I was actually... I wanted to go to the store.
Every word out of your mouth felt like lead, like a lie. You tried to focus on his eyebrows so you didn’t have to look him into eyes while lying.
- We need milk, - you tried to sound chill, - milk and some other stuff.
You hoped to every god out there that you sounded less panicked to Neymar than you did in your own ears.
Apparently, you did a better job than you thought ‘cause after a small moment of him just staring at you like he’s seen you for the first time, he shrugged and carelessly threw out:
- I’ll take a shower and we can go, - and turned to go into the kitchen. – We’ll take my car. Gimme fifteen minutes.
You blew out a breath you subconsciously had started to hold. He’s going to take a shower. Yeah. It was fine. You’ll sneak out while he’s in the shower. And you’ll leave him a note. He deserved that much.
You carefully walked into the room your boyfriend was and watched him take a bottle of water from the fridge. Were you the only one who felt electricity all around this room? You could’ve bet there was static in the kitchen. But Neymar seemed oblivious.
Watching him made you feel bittersweet nostalgia-kind of feeling. Was this the last time you would see him? Last time you see him loving you? Liking you? There’s no way he would like you after he reads that article. And there was no way he would believe you after he does. You were sure of it.
- Is everything alright, love? – you boyfrend asked, after you hadn’t blinked for a full minute. – Are you sick?
You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Mostly cry.
Instead, your lips stretched into a genuine smile. Your eyes – traitors – watered against all your strength. Something between crying and laughing bubbled out of you, as you took few short steps towards Neymar and hugged him tightly. He exhaled out of surprise but didn’t even take a second before he hugged you with the arm that wasn’t holding the bottle.
His eyebrows furrowed, as he disregarded you with worry. You had never been an overly clingy or affectionate person and, against his own wishes, he had let you take all the space you needed.
After a half of minute of comfortably silent hugging and him rubbing your back, you stepped back.
- Now you’re worrying me, princess, - he chuckled, as he released you. – Did someone die?
Just our relationship.
Now it was your turn to chuckle.
- You have something against my hugs?, - you tried and failed to joke, quickly turning around, so he can’t read your eyes. – I thought you wanted more PDA...
You heard him laugh, as he put the bottle back into the fridge.
- Well, don’t stop on my account, sweetheart. Just let me take a shower so we both aren’t sweaty, and go nuts on hugging me...
You gulped down your tears and stepped into the hall. Just few more minutes. Just few more and you’re free.
Free.
What a joke.
Free to not see hurt in his eyes, as he reads about the media accusing you.
Few minutes was too much time...
- Hey, - you turned back and ran into Neymar yet again, as he was exiting the kitchen. – How about I go alone, huh? It’s just a short trip to the store. You should relax.
Something similar to amusement danced in his eyes, as he put his hands on your upper arms to steady you.
- Are you trying to get rid of me?
You opened your mouth to fix the mistake.
- Honestly, I’m hurt, - he put his left hand over his heart, faining offense. – I thought that being in a relationship would mean fun trips to get milk at 3 in the afternoon...
Him pretending to get hurt with such a serious expression on his face twisted the knife lodged in your already bleeding heart. You swallowed hard and broke the eye contact.
He took your face in his palms and turned it back against him.
- I don’t know what’s going on with you today but we’ll fix it, okay? – he sounded so sure and you wanted to throw those words back in his face. – Just ten minutes, okay?
You didn’t want to lie more so you just nodded and stepped back. He looked at you for a moment and turned towards the guest bedroom.
- Aren’t you going to go up to our room? – you questioned.
- Nah, the water pressure’s better here, - he said, entering the room.
That could cause some bumps in the road. Your room was upstairs, and him taking the shower upstairs would give you enough time to open the garage. In Neymar’s fancy house, the garage could be only opened from inside, from the basement. Apparently, to minimize the possibility of robberies. The garage door opening can be heard on the first floor.
Though he was taking a shower so... There could be possiblity he wouldn’t be able to hear it.
His car was still out front and he had said you were taking his car. On the other hand, even if he would hear the garage door open, you could just lie, again, and say you wanted to take yours.
The moment you heard the water start, you took your bag from the hall, keys and threw open the basement door. Once you had unlocked your car, you put the bag inside and went to open the garage door.
Piece of shit high-security system, you swore, as you took your phone to look up the code.
Neymar had tried to teach you the method of automatically opening the garage from an app on your phone but you never bothered and had to go down to the basement every time to open the door manually. It took you about a minute to put in the key code and unlock the door.
Once you did, you went to pull the door up by the lever, just to do exactly that and, while your eyes were adjusting to the natural light, to once again run into someone’s chest. Someone who stood right outside the garage door, was towering over you and smelled exactly like your boyfriend.
- Shit, - you muttered, as you took him in.
The same hoodie, the same sweatpants, the same – very dry and sweaty – hair.
- What the-
- fuck? – there was no sign of amusement in Neymar’s eyes.
Or suspicion. Or anger, for that matter. What there was – tons of – was disappointment, and somehow that was worse.
- I think we should take my car, - you tried to lie your way out one last time.
He inhaled and very slowly, very patiently exhaled, as if trying to gather all the patience in the world.
You calmly took a few steps back but the backs of your legs touched the front of the car. For every step you took back, Neymar took one forward and ended up crowding you against your car.
He looked at you with immense disappointment and hurt. Closing his eyes for a short period of time, he breathed in one more time and opened them again. This time, there was only anger.
- So you weren’t going to leave me, right? You were just going to drive the car out front and wait for me, weren’t you, Y/N? – he challenged you, his fingers combing through the hair on your scalp before he roughly pulled them to make you look up at him.
You physically couldn’t open your mouth to make another lie. No more.
- Your things missing from the hall was just me being tired and seeing stuff, right? The bag you kicked under the table was for shopping, no doubt. And you, - the intense look in his eyes, as he pushed you back a bit more so you’d have to sit down on the hood of the car, was terrifying, - you hugging me as if one of us was going to die tomorrow, that was my imagination too, wasn’t it?
Once you gathered enough courage to open your mouth, you threw out the most wrong words you could:
- I was gonna leave a note.
Against his better judgement, Neymar laughed. A humorless, dry laugh but still. He rested his forehead against yours, as he slowly drew circles on your scalp with his fingers.
- You were gonna, - he laughed some more, as if the thought alone appeared ridiculous to him, - you were gonna leave me a note? Pray tell – what could you possibly write to justify all this?
You flinched.
So he knew... He knew about the cheating rumors. And he asked for justification. So that meant he believed them? The paparazzi. The media.
- I would’ve apologized for leaving without notice, - you said in a small voice, pulling his hands away from your body. – But I didn’t want for you to break up with me in person.
Neymar’s eyes danced all around your face, searching for something with solid focus.
- It’s easier that way.
The short confusion was overpowered by anger and despair once again.
- Easier for who? – he took a step back and brushed through his hair with fingers. – For you? You didn’t want to break up with me in person, like an adult, so you decided to what? It would be less of a bother to just leave?
You won’t cry, you won’t cry, you repeated in your head, trying to keep up a stable demeanor.
- Do you think it’s easy for me? On top of everything else, you and your entire fanbase are thinking I cheated when I didn’t! – you raised your voice and it, of course, immediately cracked. – I go see one friend and I’m the bad guy! You think that is easy for me?
Neymar blinked. He looked you over once more with wide eyes before slowly stalking towards you.
- You were leaving... – he started, lifted his eyes up, inhaled and turned back to you. – Why do you think you were leaving?
You snorted and stood up from the hood. What did he want – for you to admit that you did cheat when you didn’t?
- I’m so fucking done, - you muttered and turned to get to the driver’s seat.
Next thing you knew – an arm around your waist lifted your feet from the ground and you were put back on the car’s hood. You huffed, now angry and irritated, and started to get down again, before two arms caged you in.
You had no choice but to look into Neymar’s eyes, as he leaned over you to the point where you had fallen on your back if you hadn’t put your hands on the car to support yourself.
- You lift your ass up one more time and I swear to god, I’ll bring down those cuffs we use in the bedroom, cuff both of us together and you’ll have no choice but to talk to me, - he said, completely serious.
That’s a bluff.
- You know better than anyone that I only allow those to stay on, - challenge in your eyes turned both of you on, - those are too loose for me. I could always take them off with no key.
You could. That part was true. The false entrapment was both a turn-on and a relief for you.
The lack of surprise in Neymar’s eyes said everything you needed to know.
He always knew.
Of course.
- You don’t want to play with me right now, - he said in a husky voice. – I’m frustrated enough I will tie both of us together with a shoe lace if I have to.
The stare-off lasted for just a few seconds that felt longer than they were. You broke the eye contact first and blew out an exhausted breath. Then you looked up at him, defeated and calm.
- I didn’t cheat.
His eyebrows shot up. He looked so surprised that, for a second, you questioned whether he had even seen the article.
- Cheat? What a-
- Someone took a photo of me and Eddie, and they released an article about me possibly cheating, - you explained. – But I need you to know now and always – I didn’t cheat.
He looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face out of nowhere.
As if you had grown another head.
As if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
This was it, right? What more was there for you to say?
- I can show you the article, - you offered, quietly.
- I saw the article, - he stood frozen still. – Two days ago.
Both of you stood still for a moment. Like bewildered wax figures. Not saying a word. Not even breathing.
- Did you not? – Neymar almost whispered. – Did you not see it?
You shook your head, regained your voice and added:
- Only about thirty minutes ago.
- So when you said you didn’t want for me to break up with you, - he rubbed his temples, trying to fit everything together. – You thought I wanted to break with you over... – he waited for you to finish.
- Over me cheating...
- Over your cheating rumors?
You nodded.
Wait-
If he didn’t know why you were actually leaving-
- Why did you think I was leaving? – you asked.
He looked down before looking back at you, fidgeting his fingers at the same time.
- I thought you were breaking up, - he explained. – with me.
You laughed. Genuinely. All this crazy day, and this was the funniest thing you’ve heard thus far. Hearing you laugh, even for a stupid reason like that, made Neymar smile.
All the emotions you suppressed today made you burst out in laughter. Your boyfriend thought you would want to break up with him!
- What was I supposed to be thinking? – he started to explain, frustrated but with the same kind, usual, familiar amusement in his eyes. – I see a gossip article about my girlfriend and one of her friends. I assume she’s seen it too. And everything’s alright for two days straight so I don’t think about it. Then I come back home, she’s packed everything up, hugs me as if I’m dying and is almost crying on the spot, - he smiled down at you. – What am I supposed to be thinking?
- That she has her reasons? – you hug him for real this time. – And, hopefully, that she would never cheat, - you add, burrowed in his hoodie.
He pulls back and takes your face into his hands to make you look up.
- That’s why I didn’t bring the stupid article up, sweetheart, - he says. – No point in talking about it if I never, not for a second, entertained the thought.
He hugged you back and inhaled the smell of your shampoo in your hair, calming and comforting.
- I will, however, be getting tighter handcuffs, - he kisses the top of your head. – And I wasn’t joking about cuffing both of us together if you ever refuse to talk shit out, princess. I don’t know what house you grew up in but in this one we don’t run away.
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impala-dreamer · 3 months ago
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Slipping Away
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A Short Story
~ In his heart he’s lived a hundred lives, been through hell and back, loved a million souls. The heart is strong but the mind is weak, and in the end, only memory remains as his lives begin to fade.~
Jensen Ackles
954 Words
Bittersweet Angst
Thank you to everyone who read/shared/commented on my stories for @jacklesversebingo and specifically to @deanwinchesterswitch who organized such a fun, inspiring event. This is my final piece for the bingo, using the prompt "All But One Dies”. I hope you enjoy this swan song...
JacklesBingo Masterlist ~ Full Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works
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There’s an old man sitting at the end of the bar. His hair has long ago gone gray but a strand of dark walnut still peaks through now and then. The memory of reddish-brown plays over his jaw, but it’s all gone white. His skin has grown pale over the years, his tan freckles fading with it. He used to be covered in speckles like stars across the universe, but now, only a few remain. His tall frame is bent with a slight forward hunch- the consequence of years of stunts that should have been left for younger, more qualified men. His shoulders are still broad, but now bony, and his arms are weaker yet just as warm. 
His eyes are still the color of the forest, but behind them, not much else remains. 
Long, thin fingers trace the rim of a whiskey glass before gripping it tight and lifting the last sip to his lips. Once so plump and rosy pink, they’re impossibly cracked and pale. 
The whiskey soothes the ache in his bones and he sighs. 
Time has been cruel, but the life he can remember was good. 
Once upon a time, he’d traveled the world, meeting a million smiling faces and dodging hands all reaching out for him. He’d captivated every stage he’d set foot on, microphones twirling in his hand and carrying his laugh through countless auditoriums. He told hundreds of stories, some more than once, some exaggerated, all met with applause. 
How many times had he smiled for the camera or accepted hugs from strangers? How many pen strokes were wasted on his name? It was impossible to tell. He was barely able to remember those events now, let alone count the numbers. He knew he’d made them smile, he knew he’d left some impression. 
Memories were fleeting and sometimes painful. It was getting harder to sort through the flashes of history and make sense of anything. Some days it felt like he’d lived a dozen lifetimes. 
He remembered running through dark, damp tunnels with no more than a headlamp to light his way. He could smell the coal; feel the heft of the pickax in his hands. His breath was thick and heavy as he stalked his way down into the depths of Hell. 
He remembered pining for the girl- a beauty with long dark hair and bright eyes. He could almost smell her sweet perfume and hear her sassy remarks as he tried his best to woo her affection. He tasted oil and vinegar on his fingertips; felt the bacon grease pop from the griddle and sting his arms. 
There were times when he recalled the feeling of wind on his face as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop beneath a full moon. Clad in heavy kevlar, he moved through the shadows of the city, listening for screams or cackles of evil. 
Sometimes, memory inferred that he was the evil one. Striding with purpose through a warzone or locking his long fingers around some delicate throat. Power surged through his veins surely as the drugs he took, and it felt as if he were immune to the rules of life and the laws of man. He could do anything he wanted, be anything, kill anything. He was the epitome of strength, the emblem of America, the most powerful man alive. 
Those lives were disappearing faster these days. When he struggled to remember, he drank. When he cried for lives he’d taken or loves he’d lost, he slept. 
The football fields and shell necklaces, the cowls and capes, the flashes and stages- they were all lost in the fog of his mind. A myriad of lives lived and stolen by age until only one remained. 
He smiles when the bartender works her way back to him. 
Kate is short and curvy, with dyed pink hair that matches her neon tank top. There are silver studs in her ears and a hoop in her nose, and her shoulder is inked with scrollwork wrapped around an image he could never decipher. 
“Can I getcha another drink?” she asks, thickly painted lashes fluttering kindly at him. 
Jensen nods and pushes his glass forward. His voice is shaky as he speaks, but he soon finds a familiar rhythm.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I ganked an entire vamp nest by myself? Took out a dozen blood-suckers before Sammy even knew I was gone.” He laughs and reaches for the refreshed drink. “It was something. I was somethin’. Best hunter there ever was. Well, Sam had his moments, but I was good. Real good…”
The bartender smiles. She’s heard the stories before but doesn’t mind repeats. The old actor is sweet and tips her well, so she never minds watching out for him until his daughter comes to collect him. 
“If you play your cards right, Sweetheart, I may take you for a spin in my car.” He winks over the tumbler at her, green eyes slick with a flirtatious gaze. “Sexiest damn car you’ll ever see. My Baby. One of a kind. You know, I rebuilt her a whole bunch of times…” His voice trails off as he tries desperately to count the occasions, but time is twisted and pale. His brow creases with worry as another memory slips away. There is only one life left and it’s vanishing more every day. Tears well in his eyes and he clears his throat. “Anyway… I uh…” 
Kate gently takes his hand and leans close, catching his gaze. “Hey. It’s OK, Mr. Ackles. You’re OK.” 
The old man sighs and worry leaves him. He smiles and squeezes her hand. 
“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I killed Hitler?” 
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minniethemoocherda · 6 months ago
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Washing Machine Heart
A/N: This is set after my previous Morpherine fic "Can I Lay by Your Side?" but you should be able to read this as a stand alone. Tried something different here by doing Logan's POV instead which was a challenge but I hope you guys liked it! Thank you so much for everyone's likes, reblogs and comments on my last two Morpherine fics! I am so happy I am not the only one craving for more about these two! I don't know if I will have time to upload another Morpherine fic for a while because I am busy with IRL stuff and this other big fic I've got going on rn. But if the inspiration hits again then I will ride it! Xxxxxxx
Ao3
FF.net
Logan hated galas. He hated stuffy rooms full of rich arseholes and stupid social conventions and food that wasn't actually designed to make you full. But since the event was a fundraiser to help support mutant kids, he didn't have a choice in not going to this one.
Logan had tried to argue that his costume counted as a suit, but Jean had threatened to force him change if he didn't do it himself.
So reluctantly he had on an old scratchy black and white suit. He was currently waiting in the hall with the other guys whilst the girls and Morph finished getting ready and if Scott didn't stop telling him how to tie his tie, then he was going to strangle him with it.
"How do I look?"
Focused on trying to not kill Cyclops, Logan hadn't noticed that the other's had arrived until he heard Morph's voice from behind him.
Logan turned around only to find the breath punched out of him.
Ever since Morph had come out a few months ago, (some that Logan had been completely accepting of it because he had been around for over a hundred years and Morph was far from the person he'd met who was like that) they'd said that they wanted to experiment more with their clothing.
However, whilst Logan had seen Morph in a suit, outside when they'd shift into a female mutants costume, he hadn't seen them wearing much feminine clothing yet
Until today.
Leaning against the end of the banister, Morph was wearing a long red dress, pretty similar to the one in that film they'd watched with how it hugged their body before flaring out at the bottom. Their chest was still relativity flat in their usual form, but the low cut of the dress, enhanced what was there. Logan felt that animalistic nature inside of him growl with want.
Which was new.
Logan recognised the feeling of wanting to hang out with Morph, to protect them, to hear them laugh. But that was a different kind of want... right?
Distracted by their thoughts, Logan hadn't realised that he had never actually replied until he heard Morph let out a nervous laugh.
"Don't tell me, my clutch doesn't match?" Morph said, gesturing to the small white bag in their other hand that Logan honestly hadn't even noticed.
"It's fine." Logan replied, not that he was any authority on fashion. "You look good."
"I know." Morph smiled, striking an over the top pose, but with his enhanced senses, Logan could pick out the blush under their friend's grey skin.
"However, I wish I could say the same for you." Morph teased, pointing at the tangled mess of Logan's tie.
Before Logan could grumble a protest, Morph tucked their bag under their arm and leant forward to fix it themselves.
Logan found himself frozen as impossibly smooth hands, brushed against his neck as Morph fixed his tie. Logan was not one for physical touch, he couldn't remember the last time another person had touched somewhere as vulnerable as his neck, one of the few places on his body that if too badly damaged would be an injury he couldn't walk away from. But he found himself completely trusting under Morph's gentle hands.
This close, Logan could feel the overwhelming smell of whatever perfume Morph had doused themselves in. Logan was sure that it objectively smelled nice. But it his over sensitive nose, it just smelt of chemicals. He preferred Morph's normal smell because it mean that he knew that his friend was still alive.
He could also hear the slightly quickened pace of Morph's pulse, that appeared to beat faster with every moment.
"There," Morph smiled as they finally smoothed out his collar over the newly fixed tie. "Now you shouldn't get us kicked out for looking like a savage again."
Morph took a step back, probably to admire their handiwork, but before Logan even realised what he was doing, he had reached out to grab their hand to keep them still touching.
Thankfully, Morph didn't seem offended, just confused by the action.
Logan shook his head. He didn’t know why he'd just done that. The chemicals from that perfume must've messed with his head.
He corrected himself, dropping his hands before offering out an arm like he'd seen them do in that movie.
He watched as Morph blinked for a second, as though not entirely believing what they were seeing, before a devious grin spread across their face.
"Oh my dear Wolverine, I thought you'd never ask!" They cried, a hand clutched dramatically over their heart as though this was all some big joke.
"Are ya gonna take it or what?" Logan grumbled, for some reason feeling suddenly annoyed.
Rolling their eyes, Morph placed their bag in one hand and looped the other through Logan's arm.
"I bet I can down more free drinks than you can." They faux whispered into his ear, their breath sending shivers down his spine.
"You're gonna loose that bet bub." Logan retorted, falling back into their usual banter after whatever the fuck had just happened.
After a few last minute toilet trips and loosing an argument with Jubilee about her dress being too short, they all piled into the limo waiting outside.
It was a cramped fit for all of them. The low ceilings, darkened windows and close quarters reminded Logan of when he was trapped in that damn cage.
Hunched in the back corner, the other's hadn't noticed his agitation, too busy arguing over whether Jubilee could try any of the free champagne.
All except for Morph, who stroked their hand down his arm and kept up a continuous chatter for the car ride, tethering him to this reality.
Thankfully it was a quick drive to Town Hall where the gala was being held.
Unfortunately, word must've spread about the fundraiser, because the Town Hall was swarmed by a bunch of anti-mutant protestors.
Even out of costume, their group was pretty recognisable and suddenly most of the abuse was getting hurled at them.
Security was doing a decent job keeping the crown contained behind barriers, but there wasn't much they could do to contain to hurtful jabs thrown their way.
Morph faltered on the steps, their sudden stop nearly tripping Logan over.
"Do I really look okay?" They asked, clutching onto his arm even tighter.
"You're a knock-out." Logan replied in honesty. "And if anyone says otherwise, I'll stab them."
Morph snorted.
"I don't think Summer's will be impressed if you cause another international incident."
"Then I'll shove my claws up his ass too."
Logan couldn't help the swell of satisfaction at the sound of Morph's signature cackle.
As the others headed inside, Logan paused at the top of the stairs.
He had fought mad scientists, sentinals and Sinister. Going to some fancy party filled with rich people should not feel like going into battle. Yet it did.
Morph squeezed his arm and Logan glanced up to see that familiar determined smile gazing down at him and Logan couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.
Because as always the two of them had each other's back. And whatever battle was waiting for them on the other side of those doors, they would face it together.
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