#so. they did save each other from impending nothingness....no? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

djarrex · 3 years ago

Text

Countermeasures || 6

Conspiracy

Fives x ofc!reader

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Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: unprotected piv, oral (fem receiving), fluff, mention of stress-induced throwing up, aftercare, angst, feelings

chapter summary: You and Fives head to Coruscant to meet with the Chancellor in order to find some answers, but things don’t go exactly as planned.

note: tbh this chapter if half filth. Sorry posting it took longer than the others and if some things look weird - I got tired of rereading this - I hope it’s okay BUT I am already in the process of jotting things down for the next chapter. I’ll let y’all in on a lil somethin’.... I’m planning on making chapter 7 completely from Fives’ POV.

***

From where you were able to watch the dark nothingness littered with glowing stars outside of the tiny viewport, you saw the planet you’d come to call home slowly approach as the ship exited hyperspace. The white clouds swirled over most of the surface as seen from space, yet the distinctive glow of major cities and routes shined brighter than any nearby stars; the bright lights connected each spherical pattern by distinct lines of light, marking the major highways and transport lanes.

Coruscant.

You were home, though you were not arriving in a way you could have ever imagined.

You were to accompany Nala Se, Master Shaak Ti, and Fives to the Senate Complex to meet with Chancellor Palpatine - and hopefully get some answers. Who in the hells would have ever thought you’d be meeting the Chancellor? If only your parents could see you now. They’d be... proud? Under such strange circumstances, you weren’t even sure what you were feeling about it all.

Accomplishment? Was that what you were feeling? Certainly not success, nor defeat, since this wasn’t over yet.

Perhaps accomplishment was an appropriate feeling, solely for the fact that you and Fives had gotten through to somebody - now you were to meet with the fucking Supreme Chancellor.

Fives was knocked out during the journey - given a sedative as a precautionary measure - against your wishes, and was kept isolated. Maybe it was because Fives had a blaster trained on an unarmed Kaminoan… still, it upset you. He wasn’t going to actually harm Nala Se. You’d only known Fives for a week, but you know he would never hurt someone unarmed and innocent - though you both wouldn't exactly consider Nala Se as innocent after what took place back on Kamino.

The journey was extremely long - 120 hours, to be almost exact. At least you were finally able to catch up on some sleep, even if it was on the hard bunks within the small ship’s sleeping quarters. Though you were upset Fives wasn’t conscious during the journey, you were somewhat glad he was getting rest, forced by sedative or otherwise.

You were eager to be with Fives again; you were still in shock - he had kissed you. Twice. The things you were feeling brought you back to the giddiness of having a crush on another boy from your settlement when he gave peck on the cheek; you were no older than ten, as was he. You can’t remember the last time you felt these things for another. Surely you didn’t feel this way for that boy when you were both only ten years-old; maybe you’d never felt this way for someone - this was all new to you.

What was to happen now - would you and Fives... be together? It sounded so silly to play those words even in the privacy of your own mind; the thought of being with a clone was something you’d never imagine even in your wildest dreams, but as you mentioned to Fives back on Kamino, he’d changed your views on the clones entirely. Fives was so full of compassion, emotion, ferocity when necessary. He was intelligent and cunning, caring and funny. The way he was with you, so careful and sincere - you’d completely fallen for that man; it was no longer a simple crush nor rush of lust.

The thought of “being together” in a traditional sense sounded... nice. It seemed to be impossible; you knew better than most that the clones were designed to keep the mission in the forefront of their minds and everything else would be clouded out, but your time working with Fives gave you new insight that the clones were capable of a lot more than anyone - especially the masters of their creation - would’ve ever thought. Maybe it was possible.

The transport that had come up to bring you to the surface touched down at the hangar and you hurried to exit, eager to be reunited with Fives after the boring journey. Walking down the ramp and looking around at the other transport, there was no sign of Fives. You did see the conniving long-neck speaking with a couple troopers with painted red armor, nodding to her words before heading off and away from the ships. Deciding to confront her, you stepped cautiously towards Nala Se, keeping yourself aware of your surroundings while scanning the area in hopes to catch a glimpse of the man you’d fallen hard for.

Nala Se turned to face you, not so much as a smile made its way to her stoic face.

“Where is he, where’s Fives?” You stepped closer, your head tilting back and meeting her eyes from below. Trying to keep your cool was difficult; your accusatory tone towards her made her imaginary brows raise.

“He is still sedated. I had him escorted to the Chancellor’s office.” Her tone was calm, unfazed, nonchalant - obviously not too worried about entertaining your worry for Fives.

“Alright. So, I’ll follow you then?” You looked around towards where the troopers from before were heading, but to your dismay, the long-neck shook her head.

“Chancellor Palpatine did not request for you, Miss Renna. He only wishes to speak with trooper Fives.”

...what the fuck?

To seven hells with keeping your cool. This was totally not was discussed back on Kamino. A mixture of anger and confusion soared through you; tears threatened to form at the corners of your eyes. No way are you crying out of frustration in front of Dr. Nala Se.

“But I thought-” She held up her three fingers in front of you, halting your impending argument.

“I am afraid that was the Chancellor’s request.”

Without another word or opportunity for you to argue, Nala Se turned on her heels and left you alone and on the brink of a fucking meltdown.

There was no arguing with her and especially not with the Chancellor, but it was still strange. Where was Master Shaak Ti? She’d be able to help you out, right? Why would the Chancellor not want to meet with you - you, the one who was by Fives’ side throughout the entire investigation, the one who has actual medical knowledge and training? You had a bad feeling about it all.

What were you supposed to do now? You obviously couldn’t arrive unannounced at the Senate building, let alone the Chancellor’s office.

What of Fives? He’d probably freak out when he wakes up and you’re not there by his side. The last thing he knew before being put under was that you’d be going with him to meet the Chancellor. So, what? He’s going to wake up and point another fucking blaster at someone? You wouldn’t doubt it - this entire situation has got him completely on edge. Fives was hurt, confused, and felt betrayed, to say the least. He trusted the Jedi - that was something engrained in him from before he’d ever held a blaster - and was literally engineered to serve under them in this Maker forsaken war.

Something didn’t sit right with you, though, and that’s not including how you weren’t requested to be present in front of the Chancellor. What doesn’t sit right with you is that you were still... employed (in a sense) and weren’t dismissed when Nala Se had confronted you in the Embryo Room. Instead, you were allowed to come back to Coruscant along with your employer, and not as a consequence of dismissal.

You didn’t want to go back to Kamino, though. Maybe it would be best to go back to the academy and explain the situation to your advisors, though you weren’t entirely sure how to even begin to explain this mess to anyone who wasn’t already aware of what was going on.

If you didn’t return to Kamino, would that mean you were quitting? What if you spoke to your academic advisors first, asking for a transfer of internship? What if Nala is planning on dismissing you, just waiting until this was over with, does that mean you’d fail at the academy and not be placed any where else to finish up your training?

After what you’ve seen and what you’ve actually uncovered, you knew going back to Kamino was an absolute fuck no. If that meant you never becoming a doctor, then so be it.

Everything happens for a reason.

All there was to do was wait it out - see what happens with Fives’ meeting with the Chancellor.

Ultimately deciding to wait outside for him after his meeting, you started the trek to the complex in the footsteps of the troopers and Nala Se. When you got there, it was quiet; you expected the hustle and bustle of tourists or political figures, but there was no one - save for the expected Coruscant guards walking the perimeter with blasters in hand. It was just you, sitting alone and filled with worry on a long and wide staircase that led up to the grand entrance of the Senate Building.

***

Hours.

It had been hours since you’d first parked your ass outside the Senate Building. The sun was starting to set behind the enormous structure; the sky resembled fire with the stripes of yellows and oranges blending together, the flecks of purples and pinks littered the sky complementarily while the lines of speeders zooming along off in the distance became silhouettes.

You hadn’t seen a Coruscant sunset in over six months - it was what you missed the most while away on that stormy planet, where you'd never seen not one sunset.

You’d never forget your first night on Coruscant, a week before your first days at the medical academy. You were nervous and afraid, unsure of the crowded streets and the trillions of others walking or hovering among them - your first time surrounded by extremely unfamiliar faces and unaccompanied by your family. You came from such a small and poor settlement, where everyone knew each other and their ancestors - where you were comfortable, yet longed for more.

You’d bumped into what seemed like hundreds of passersby while navigating to your new apartment, located in a high rise just off the academy’s perimeter. The inside was complete with furnishings and decor that quite honestly wasn’t your taste, but the kitchen was huge and came with appliances you never thought you’d ever use in your lifetime - a stark contrast to the communal fire pit and dwindling supply of pots and pans from where you grew up.

Speaking of kitchen - you were starving.

Hungry and worried - the two most prominent feelings of late.

***

Back at your apartment you cooked dinner, sitting on the balcony while attempting to sooth your frustration and worry while spooning mouthfuls of your mother’s recipe for your favorite soup. It was getting late. You had no way to contact Fives, no way to contact anyone other than Nala Se.

She wasn’t the best option of contact, though she would be able to inform you of how the meeting went - lying about details or not, you just wanted to know if Fives was okay, even if the Chancellor didn’t take his side about the chips.

Those fucking inhibitor chips.

You hadn’t forgotten how Nala Se tried to cover it all up, rather than just explaining what they were from the get-go. If it really was something as simple as “making them less aggressive because their original donor was a crazy aggressive bounty hunter” then there should be no reason why you wouldn’t even know about the chips, or why you never saw anything about the chips in any files.

It appeared that you and Fives had unknowingly uncovered a conspiracy - a conspiracy that needed to stay undiscovered so badly that the Kaminoan in charge of the clones’ design was ready to recondition then kill any one clone that caught of whiff of anything remotely close to it.

Fives. Fives caught a whiff of something extremely close to it.

There had to be a reason why you weren’t welcome at that meeting.

Surely Nala Se could have been lying right to your face, as she’s done before, but what if the Chancellor really didn’t want or need to speak with you, or hear what you had to say about the chips in a medical sense?

Why was Nala Se so fucking adamant about sending all data on the chip - including the chips themselves and the clones it came from - straight to the Chancellor, protesting any mention of detours along the way? Why would it matter if Tup or his chip made a pitstop at the Jedi Temple for the Jedi to do their... Jedi stuff on him before reaching Nala Se’s voiced desired destination?

Weird. All of it... just fucking weird.

Now your stomach was turning; soup came up in your throat faster than you could register what was happening. It burned on the way out; hot soup spewed from your mouth with such force that the wall across from you was consequently covered in the contents of your stomach. Something you hadn’t done in a long time - vomiting out of pure anxiety and stress - happened quicker than you had time to realize how fucking bad the negative emotions stemming from the situation were affecting you.

You could just feel it - Fives was in danger. Though you didn’t know exactly what kind of danger or who at the hands of, that feeling was screaming at you.

Scared. Worried. Stressed. Angry. Upset and sobbing, because you’d just spewed fucking soup all over your wall.

Take a shower. Put on clean clothes. Get some fucking sleep. Check in with everything in the morning.

You repeated your own instructions both silently in your head and out loud to yourself as you finished cleaning up your disgusting stress-induced habit.

***

Knock knock knock.

You shot up from from the couch, already awake because you were just not able to shut your damn eyes.

“F- Fives?” His name croaked out of your sore throat; the possibility that Fives was at your door was just slim to none. Though, who else would it be?

“Renna...” Your name came from the other side of the door; the familiar voice sent... something shooting from your ears and straight to your toes.

Fives.

You don’t recall making the short journey to your door from the couch, but in a flash you were there, opening the door to be greeted by the man you’d just indirectly vomited because of.

He just stood there right outside your door; the dim light filtering in from the halls casted him as a silhouette, but you were able to make out how was still in that armor he had commandeered (well, just plain stole) back on Kamino and how he had a dark and dazed look in his golden eyes. It was difficult to read his face; normally Fives was quite expressive, but at that moment, there was nothing.

He slowly stepped forward, making you retreat a few steps. His unreadable expression changed as the light hit his face - it was one you’d never seen on him before.

Anger - that’s what you were feeling - along with worry, exhaustion, confusion - all towards this entire fucked up situation and being directed right at Fives before you could stop it.

“Where the fuck have you been-”

“I need you,” he growled, right before slamming his lips onto yours.

Not able to hold in the simultaneous gasp and moan that escaped your throat, Fives shut the door as you allowed him to push you back further into your apartment all while his lips remained locked with yours - hungry and wanting. Fives was devouring you, to put in plainly; he kissed you like it would be his last opportunity to. You didn’t realize Fives had been backing you up and up until your back slammed into a wall with a load thud, but he didn’t let up the kiss, no - in fact, the kiss deepened since you no longer had any more room to back up, firmly pressed against a hard surface while being caged in completely by Fives’ sturdy body. Desperate hands roamed your form, grabbing the meatier parts of you and offering a gentle squeeze.

You brain was jelly... what were you mad about again, among other things? Oh right... everything.

“F- Fives!” You snapped your head to the side, effectively breaking the kiss. “You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on? Maker, I was worried sick!” Literally sick. Like, literally.

“I- please... need you first. Please, Ren. I need you.” He tugged at your top with pleading and hungry eyes, silently asking for permission to take it off. You bit your lip, contemplating if this is how you wanted things to finally happen between the two of you. Fuck it. You wanted him - needed him.

Staring up at him under long lashes with your bottom lip caught in your teeth, you nodded. “Okay.” With no time wasted, your top was pulled off and thrown somewhere out of sight. His lips returned to yours, messy and warm. As your tongues swirled one another, Fives’ hands continued to grab at the newly exposed skin, palming your breasts underneath your sorry excuse for a bra, sending you into a frenzy. This was the most Fives’ had ever touched you - and it brought you back to those first couple of nights upon meeting him for the first time, when you imagined what his touch would feel like as you pleasured yourself. Coming back to the present, the warmth you felt in your face traveled further down, settling in your lower stomach. Your head tilted to the side and Fives broke from your lips to move south, kissing and sucking down your chin to your neck to your collarbone.

“F- fuck.” You nearly melted into a puddle when Fives’ hands found the clasp of your bra, tearing it off and tossing it to the side without his lips breaking contact from your skin.

Fives definitely wasn’t new to these activities.

“You smell so good, Ren,” He breathed against the curve of your shoulder just above your collarbone, nipping the skin there with a groan. All you could do was stand there like a noodle, whimpering while letting his strong arms hold you upright as he mouthed at your skin, the warmth coming from his nose and mouth sending shockwaves to the more sensitive parts of your body. Fives ventured back up to your mouth, placing sloppy and wet kisses along your bottom lip.

That thing that drives you absolutely crazy was done unknowingly by Fives again, causing you to moan loudly into his mouth - the vibrations making your shudder.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that when I do this,” Fives repeated the motion, chuckling against your lips when you let out another moan. “I guess you like it when I do that, huh beautiful?” Your eyes were clamped shut as you nodded to the best of your ability. Fives brought his hands up to grab your face, holding you steady in his large palms. “I need you, Renna.” Fives repeated himself, going back in for another hungry kiss. You broke away this time, placing your hands over his while still holding your face.

“Have me, Fives.”

He made a grunt akin to a growl before hoisting you up; strong hands grabbed your ass from underneath and your legs quickly wrapped around his waist as he smashed his lips back onto yours. You couldn’t help the whimpers that came from your throat as his stiffening cock rubbed against your aching core. Fives’ grip on your ass became rougher as he kneaded the plush skin through your sleep bottoms. You allowed your hands to roam around his shoulders and head, enjoying the feeling of the freshly buzzed hair as it pricked your fingers.

Desperate kisses and touches - that’s what it all was, and for a few minutes before your mouths detached, staring into each others eyes while catching your breaths.

“I’ve wanted this for so long...” Fives admission made you blush, and he definitely noticed. Tucking loose hair behind your ear, he smiled. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Renna. I’ve been to countless systems, moons, planets - nothing and no one on or within any of them could ever compare to you.”

You couldn’t stop the tear falling from your eye before Fives caught it, gently wiping it away with his thumb.

“No, sweet girl. I don’t want you crying over things I say,” He placed a quick kiss on your cheek where the tear fell, “I want you crying over how good I’m gonna make you feel when I finally fuck you.” You didn’t have time to react before Fives swung around and quickly moved to your bed, throwing you down on top of it. He stood at the edge of the bed, extremely intimidating at the angle you were looking at him from as he donned a full set of armor, sans helmet.

You squirmed underneath his gaze, feeling all too exposed with your top half completely bare while he stood there fully clothed and the some. As if he could read your mind, Fives started peeling off the armor, unclasping the pieces one by one while keeping his eyes locked with yours. Your body was completely on fire.

This was finally happening.

“Ren?” Fives was just taking off the last of the plastoid and tossing the vambraces to the side, looking at you with a hungry smirk. You nodded to him with a quizzical brow raised. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted this.”

He was teasing you.

“Fives...”

“Tell me, pretty thing.”

Shit, okay.

“Ever since I first saw you, Fives. When you first arrived on Kamino, in your armor.” The way he was questioning you with such... authority - you started to feel just how wet you were getting as you rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to stimulate yourself in some way.

The way he was in that moment... yeah, you told him the truth.

Fives hummed in approval with a cocky grin stretched on his face as he ran a warm palm up and down your trembling thigh. “You liked seeing me in my armor?”

“Stars. Yes... It was my first day outside the archives yet I don’t even remember that fucking conversation because I was too distracted by you.”

What is he, a fucking wizard? He was pulling confessions from you with very little effort - your brain was fried; all that was on your mind was getting Fives to touch you where you needed him to.

“It’s a shame I won’t have an opportunity to put that armor back on again. I would have loved to fuck you while I wore it.” Both his hands trailed up your calves to your thighs to the waistband of your bottoms, threatening to take them off as he yanked at the elastic band.

The commanding and intimidating ARC trooper was the Fives you never had the pleasure of personally dealing with... until now.

“Fives, please.” You wiggled underneath his hands, hoping he knew what you wanted through your half-ass begging.

“I really want to take my time with you, but I don’t think we have the luxury of time right now... I may not be able to control myself, Ren. I need you so fucking bad, baby.” His fingers finally clamped around your waistband, yanking the material down your legs in a one rough motion. As soon as your pants were off, his fingers were rubbing against the dampening spot seeping into the thin material of your underwear. Your focus was completely on controlling how loud you were panting that you didn’t even register that the lacy torn-up material between his fingers was your fucking underwear that he’d just ripped clean off your hips.

“Fuck... did you... just-”

“I warned you, Ren.” As soon as those last words flew out of his mouth, his face was instantly buried between your legs, tongue circling your folds in a very messy fashion. Strong hands grabbed at your thighs, yanking them up and over his broad shoulders as his mouth attacked your burning cunt. The embarrassing moans coming from your throat burned your ears as he went back and forth between flicking your clit with his tongue and licking up and down your slit. You nearly choked on your own spit as a broken cry made its way from your throat when he grabbed your hips and angled you so that his tongue sunk straight into your hole.

“H- oh m- fu- fuck.” You were nearly sobbing at the way he was tongue-fucking your clenching hole; his grip on your hips was bruising and the lewd slurping sounds coming from him sucking at every inch of your pussy all led up to an insane climax. The heat in your lower stomach was unbearable and you cried out as he insert two thick fingers inside you to replace his tongue. All it took was a few thrusts of his curled digits and were coming undone; Fives worked you through your high, keeping a brutal pace with his fingers and flicking of his tongue in sync with their attack.

He pulled back to look at you, lips swollen and eyes still dark with lingering want. He looked like a fucking dream - truly, a vision. Of all the times you’d imagined Fives touching and feeling you, having him devour you the way he was at the moment was nothing you could have ever dreamt of.

“You look so beautiful.” Fives stood up from his crouching position, softly positioning your quivering legs back on the bed. You doubted that you looked at all attractive with the way you were panting like you’d just ran a marathon, loose strands of hair sticking to your face from sweat. Shaking your head with unfocused eyes, you reached your hand out to him and he took it, allowing you to pull him on top of you. His lips attacked yours once again, but more delicately this time. Feeling the hard bulge straining in his black pants rubbing against your oversensitive cunt made you moan; Fives swallowing it and volleying back with his own. He lifted his head and broke the kiss, staring right into your heavy eyes.

“I want this... so badly,” he confessed, seeming just a little too shy for the way he just made you see the fucking Maker with his fingers and tongue. You couldn’t contain the giggle that made it past your lips as you reached down to palm at his clothed member.

“Take these off,” you cooed, attempting to wiggle his pants off his hips with just one hand.

Once Fives was completely bare, he leaned back over you, resting on his forearms that sat on either side of your head. You lifted your head slightly for another kiss as he grabbed himself to line up with your burning entrance. Your head fell right back down once the bulbous head of his perfect cock breached you; a mumbled curse fell from your lips as he slowly rolled his hips against yours.

“You’re so beautiful, Ren... so tight, so warm.” Your eyes nearly rolled into your skull as he inched all the way inside of you, pausing for a moment so as to get adjusted to one another. Your eyes locked with Fives’ as he started moving; the roll of his hips slow and deliberate as he hit the deepest part inside you over and over again. The eye contact made it just all the more intimate; watching one another’s reaction to the exquisite feeling of being this close to each other was pure bliss. You watched his brows crease in concentration as that dark look in his golden eyes grew all the more prominent, and you knew he was watching the way your mouth looked as broken curses tumbled off your tongue. Your hands flew up to rest against his buzzed head, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp as he tilted his head back down to suck at your collarbone.

This was the most intimate you’d ever been with somebody, but something within you was telling you that Fives was holding back for some reason - not giving you his all - that he was capable of more.

“Fives,” you breathed out, steadily rocking against the mattress from each deep thrust, “don’t hold back, baby. Give me you.” His eyes widened, quickly followed by a grunt of approval. Only a moment later he was nearly pulled all the way out of you just to slam himself right back in, making you shriek. Gasps made it made it past your devilish smile as he picked up the pace.

“Like that?” He snapped his hip so fucking hard and deep. “You want me to fuck you hard, Ren?” Unable to form a coherent response, you mumbled something akin to a confirmation; his quick and hard thrusts sent you scooting up higher on the bed with every smack of his hips against the underside of your thighs with the slight nodding of your head. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your arm was draped over your face, stifling the moans that erupted from deep within.

Fives grabbed your arm and threw it away from your face and breathed out between grunts, “Look at me, beautiful girl. R-remember what I said before? I want to s-see you cry from how good I’m making you feel.” Not knowing it was even possible, his hips slapped against you at an even quicker pace as he leaned on one arm to grab your hip with the other. The angle he was thrusting into at made him hit deep inside - hitting the spot that had you seeing the fucking Maker themselves again.

He continued to pound you into the mattress, beads of sweat forming on his brow framing his hungry eyes. Those perfect lips were parted, allowing the deepest of grunts and groans to filter through. Between the shared noises of pleasure, the quick smacking of skin meeting skin, and the squelching coming from his cock entering and exiting your throbbing pussy - your ears were on fire and the heat burning deep within you exploded into an intense climax. With a squealed out cry, your hands flew up to his back, pressing your nails deep into his thick skin, making him groan. Tears stemming from insane pleasure formed in your eyes, dripping down past your temples and onto the sheets beneath you.

��I feel you, beautiful. Cum for me - cum all over my c- gah-” The clenching of your spasming pussy that accompanied your orgasm made Fives break off his command as he dropped his head to rest on your collarbone, his cock pulsating within you. With just another few hard but lazy thrusts, liquid warmth spurted inside you as he held himself deep within your throbbing cunt.

He was no longer holding himself up - his full weight fell right on top of you, pretty much squeezing any remaining oxygen out of your lungs but you didn’t care at that moment. The both of you stayed still for a few minutes, letting your breaths return to normal and relishing each other’s post-sex scent.

When he finally lifted himself and pulled out of you, you didn’t even register that you were still crying until he wiped away the tears with the same fingers he had inside you, still sticky with your juices. You were crying because of two things: one, Fives made you feel more pleasure than anyone had ever, and two, there was something screaming at you from the back of your mind that though this was your first time with Fives - it may be your last. You didn’t want to think about that, but the memory of Fives being inexplicably missing that entire day after a meeting you had no idea what went on in, it was the only thing you could think about.

No. Now was not the time to think about that.

Fives rested beside you, pulling you into his arms, mimicking that first time you’d shared the bed with one another. “They’re after me,” he mumbled flatly after a minute of silence, his chin jutting against the top of your head as he spoke.

“Because of the chips.” It meant to come out as a question, but you already knew the answer; this whole fucking thing was about those damn chips. Fives didn’t respond right away, instead squeezing your spent body just a little bit tighter in his arms, pressing you further into him. He inhaled deeply, letting the air softly escape from his nostrils.

“Because... I attacked the Chancellor.”

...wh- what?

“You did what?” You attempted to break out of his arms so you could look him in the eyes - to see if he was kidding, but your weak struggling was no match for his enhanced strength. Sighing in defeat, your tone softened, “What happened at that meeting, Fives?”

“Renna... I want to tell you, I just-” A beat. “I would be putting you in danger.”

Rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see your face, you scoffed, “More so than I already am? Fives, I was part of the shit that went down on Kamino. I’m in on this.”

“But you don’t know the extent of just how high up this conspiracy goes, Ren, and it needs to stay that way.” His arms tightened. He was just being protective, you decided, but it wasn’t fair.

“Fives,” you pleaded, grasping onto his thick forearms. You murmured into the air towards the wall beside the bed, “Please tell me. I want to help you. Please.”

“I... have to go soon, Ren.” He sounded unsure - apologetic. Regretful. Nervous.

“...but I don’t think we have the luxury of time right now...”

Fives’ words replayed in your head. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, since he was just about to give you the most intense and intimate pleasure you’d ever known in your life, but it hit you. Tears started forming in your eyes again as the thoughts you had buried deep in the back of your mind made their way to the front at full force. He must’ve heard your quiet sobs as you attempted to muffle them, because in only a moment you were released then flipped to lay on your other side - facing Fives. The feeling of him wiping your tears was all too familiar - a feeling that shouldn’t be familiar, in a perfect galaxy. Would the galaxy ever be perfect?

“Wh-where will you go?” Where will he go? “You’re... a fugitive, Fives.”

“Yeah, I know,” he huffed. “They even got the Corrie Guard after me. I need to find Rex, or- or General Skywalker.”

“Find them... and then what?”

“Explain myself, if they’ll let me. I at least need to try.”

“Fives, what in Maker’s name-”

“Please, trust me. I’ll... be okay.” He broke away from your eyes, staring off at the wall behind you.

That was flat out lie, and you both knew it. You attempted to study his blank expression for a moment before his eyes flickered back to yours.

“When I find Rex I’ll tell him about your involvement. He should be able to keep you safe. I’ll- I’ll come find you after I speak with him, okay?”

“Keep me safe...” You mumbled the words under your breath in pure disbelief; Fives simply nodded in confirmation, a crease resting in between his brows as his gaze bore into yours.

“If Rex hears me out, then he’ll understand. He’s a good man... always willing to do the right thing.” It sounded as though Fives was saying that to himself rather than to you - as a reminder.

You decided to leave it at that, not having enough energy to press his stubborn self any more on the subject. Nuzzling your face into his bare chest, you inhaled deeply - a way to keep his scent in your mind for after he leaves. Fives was warm, both his physical form and his overall energy. Safe. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you further into his comforting warmth. You were on the edge of sleep, eyelids becoming heavy and breathing deepening. You wanted to stay awake, though, to make the most of your time with Fives.

You just weren’t sure if you’d see him again after he goes.

“Just promise me-” He paused, sucking in a clump of air, “Just stay aware of your surroundings, okay? I’m not sure where you’re at with returning to Kamino... but I don’t think you should.”

“Okay,” your voice was barely audible, coming out as a faint mumble muffled against his skin.

That settled it. You would not return to Kamino.

What would you do, though? Are you quitting? What will you do if Fives-

“After I find Rex and the General... there’s no telling what’ll happen. No matter the outcome... I’m not sure what the next steps are. For once, I don’t have a plan, Ren. I’m gonna need your help, but we can talk about that when I come back to you, yeah?” He started to rub smoothing circles on your back, digging deep into your muscles while placing a kiss atop your head and squeezing you tighter. “I’m just... glad you weren’t at that meeting with the Chancellor.”

“Apparently my presence wasn’t requested by the Chancellor,” you mumbled in annoyance, that similar feeling of anger towards the long-neck bubbling up within you. Fives let out a quiet huff in reply, seemingly trying to dodge giving an appropriate response towards your resentful statement. You didn’t expect him to respond; however, you’d just realized that Fives somehow managed to find your apartment during the night, with no explicit directions given to him from you. “How... did you find me? I never told you where I lived.”

He replied with a light chuckle, “Do you not know me by now?” Offering a half-smile he pushed you away from his chest so you could meet his eyes, placing a quick kiss on your damp forehead. “I’ll always find you, Renna.”

***

tags: @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @bvcketfvcker @salty-sith-bitch @iwannaclonetrooper @cyaniderainfall

#djarrex writes #countermeasures series #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives x oc #arc trooper fives smut #fives x reader #fives x you #fives x oc #fives smut #the clone wars fic #star wars fic #the clone wars conspiracy arc #conspiracy arc

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i-like-writing-stuff · 4 years ago

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empty [five hargreeves x reader]

request: I loved the “four months” Five fic oh my 💕💕but, What about a Fic where Five finds reader dead?? Like just imagine the pain, sorrow and anger Five would feel to find reader, the one person who stuck with him in Comission, that dealt with his grumpyness, who actually liked him and viceversa and risked it all for him and his family, was killed by Commission :”) Obviously you don’t have to do it if you don’t have to, don’t feel pressure!!

a/n: first of all, thank you!! and i tried my best to follow your request, but as i said in my previous x reader, i really suck at angst??? i tried to keep it as sad as i could and i hope it turned out at least decent?? i feel like i kinda shifted from the request idk lemme know your opinion on it! xoxo

btw, this is not set in the canon timeline, since i could not find the right time for this to take place in. it is around season 1, before they find out vanya has powers, but let’s just take as an AU in which they had more than 10 days to save the world idk

as always, here’s a gif off google lol, but this time iss a sad five:(

summary: five tries to deal with his feelings as he loses his significant other at the hands of the commission

Empty.

A big pit of emptiness had made itself felt inside of Five, as he was slowly letting the reality sink in.

He was never going to see you again, he was never going to talk to you again, he was never going to touch you again. He was never going to see your smile again, he was never going to hear the sound of your laughter again, or feel you in his arms whenever you let excitement take over you and engulf him into a hug- he may not have been a very touchy person, but whenever you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down, Five felt happy.

And he knew, right now- he knew well he’d never be that happy again.

It was a fucking nightmare to him, honestly. That’s what he’d say if you were to ask him; his past few days had been horrible. Not only he returned to his family ten days before an apocalypse that in the past killed them, and he had no idea how to stop it, but now he lost the person he was so madly in love with.

At first, he spent a decent amount of time in denial, not willing to accept the fact, but it slowly started feeling real to him. He was slowly accepting it, and as he did so, he was feeling inside how most of his emotions were slowly draining out of him.

Until he was left empty.

And he did prefer it this way, rather than the mixture of feelings that overwhelmed him in the beginning. He was angry, he was pissed of, but he was also sad, miserable. He was furious with the Commission, but he was more furious with himself for not being able to protect you and have your back, like you had his.

Ever since you and Five met years ago in the organization, you had taken a liking to the man. You spent your entire life focusing on your job and forgot to have a life of your own, but once you met Five Hargreeves, it all changed.

The Handler assigned you one mission to go together on, but ever since then, the two of you realized how well you worked together and how much more efficiently the work was getting done, rather than working by yourselves.

It was only a matter of time until you two decided to partner up, so. You had been through a lot of events and mishaps together, you got into fights and shared good laughs, you even fell in love with each other...

You had been through so, so much, that it was slowly killing Five as he remembered the good times.

“Five?” Allison softly knocked on the boy’s door, “The others figured it was time.”

The sudden presence of his sister startled him a bit, but he softened back. He knew it wasn’t only him that suffered- his brothers and sisters were in grief as well. When Five made the big jump from 1963 to 2019, he took you with him to save the world from the impending apocalypse, as well as his siblings that he loved, deep down.

They took an instant liking to you, even if they didn’t have much time to get very close to you. At first, though, they seemed baffled with the fact that you had so much patience with Five. You had been dealing with his grumpy butt, and you weren’t even his wife? How could one person be so calm when she spends so much time with one sarcastic asshole who doesn’t really owe her anything?

“Right.” Five sighed, getting up from his bed with lazy movements, “I’ll be down in a moment.”

Allison nodded, letting him change back into his usual clothes, making her way back to the rest of the family.

Five put on his uniform, staring into nothingness. He felt exhausted, like he had lost the game of life. If he hadn’t loved his siblings so much that he couldn’t stand losing them as well (again), he probably wouldn’t have even bothered to save the world anymore.

Even in his numb state of mind, he still hated himself for not being able to save you. His self-inflicted hatred was so strong, he couldn’t even sleep at night, as your lifeless body is the only thing he could see when he closed his eyes.

“Y/N?” Five’s voice was low, as a lump had formed in his throat once he took in the scene before him.

He was waiting- hoping, for an answer, but, oh God- he knew he was not going to receive one.

The room was an entire mess; there were clear signs of struggle. The cushions on the sofa were scattered around the living room, many expensive statues and vases left around as decor on tables were broken, as well as pots of flowers. All the drinks on the shelves behind the bar were broken to bits, alcohol was spilled on the floor.

As well as blood.

And many bullet shells.

Five ran towards the bar, rounding it. When his eyes fell on the floor, his heart dropped out of his chest.

You were laying on a side, with your hair all across your face in a pool of your own blood. Five couldn’t care less about the broken glass surrounding you, as he fell to his knees, pulling your body into his arms;

“Y/N!” He yelled, feeling his vision blurry, as he took in your state.

His clothes had already been stained with blood so many times, but never in his life did he think that he’d dirty himself with yours.

Your eyes were almost closed, but he knew right ther eon the spot he’d never be able to forget the emptiness inside them. The spark you had whenever you smiled, or even looked at him had disappeared. They were dull and out of any emotion.

Your skin was pale and cold, as Five’s hot tears fell on you. A mixture of emotions was filling his body, unsure of what to make of the scene before him. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, as he softly stroked your hair, unable to do anything.

He had seen his fair share of corpses- he knew how to recognize one, as much as he didn’t want to.

Cha-Cha had returned to the Hargreeves house that day, once again. After a long dispute with her partner who wanted out, she decided to start the mission the Commission had sent in; eliminate Y/N Y/L/N, since you had a big role in stopping the apocalypse.

You were all by yourself at the house, as you had been sore after a fight you had the previous night with the Handler, so you took the day off. The Hargreeves siblings left in their own business, and you figured you’d be able to enjoy the big house to yourself for the day, since Pogo and Grace had done the same.

A few hours had barely passed, when Cha-Cha had barged in with two hand guns, all serious. When you first started fighting, you were grateful for returning to your younger body, since you were able to put up a good fight even in your sore state... but it all went sideways when the woman managed to shoot you in the leg after throwing you over the glass coffee table.

You were already out of stamina, so it didn’t take long for her to pull you up by the shirt and throw you over the bar, right into the shelves full of expensive liquor.

Cha-Cha knew that did it, so she left before any of the siblings could return and catch her. As for you? Well, as it had turned out in the autopsy performed by Grace, you had suffered a horrible blow to the head which took you out when you were thrown over the bar.

Not long after Five, the rest of the family shortly came in, but none of them could ever be prepared for that scene- seeing all the chaos in the living room, the bullets, the broken glass, the blood... their heartbroken brother who was clutching onto the lifeless body of the woman he loved, sobbing heavily.

“Wh... What happened in here...?” Klaus wondered, as tears were already dwelling down his eyes.

“Is she...?” Ben asked, covering his mouth in shock- even if he had never spoken to you since he was unable to, he liked sitting in the back and watching you deal with his brother. He was really happy he had someone that loved him that much, even if you were not willing to admit it yet to his face.

“Oh my God...” Vanya breathed out, feeling her bottom lip tremble, as Allison was too shocked to even say a word, starting to cry heavily into Luther’s chest.

“Whoever did this... is going to pay.” Diego declared, clenching his teeth.

The following days had been hard to digest for any of them, especially for Five. He thought he was too clever to ever want revenge on someone, but your death had Commission written all over it. He knew very well that Cha-Cha and maybe Hazel had struck again- after all, they barged into your home one time before in the search for him, so why not do it again? After all, last time, from what he’s heard, they dropped the chandelier in the hallway on Luther.

“I’m going after the Commission.” Five declared, as his family stood in silence after having scattered your ashes in the backyard you and him had first popped out in.

“No, you are not.” Luther said, as his siblings turned to him curiously, “We are going after the Commission.”

Diego placed a hand in comfort on Five’s shoulder, as the siblings nodded in agreement, ready to avenge the loss of their loved one.

“I’m quite flattered.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at Five, trying your hardest not to cry because of what could have been between the two of you.

Ben shifted beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder, as he noticed the sadness in your tone, “I’m here for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Ben.” You turned to him with a smile, as you tried to lighten up the mood, “At least Klaus has two guardian ghosts now.”

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy #netflix #tua #tua x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves #number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #number five imagines

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litttle-annie-adderall · 4 years ago

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Vanish Into My Arms (WinterSpider) - Part 1

Summary: At the end of the Infinity War, Thanos has won the war. Everyone who dusted away find themselves in a strange place with no idea where they are. While everyone frantically searches for their friends and family, Peter spots a familiar face in a soldier he fought in Germany a few years ago. Torn between his need for a familiar face and his loyalty to his mentor, Peter makes a decision that will affect the rest of his life.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 10.8k (damn that’s long, I'm sorry)

A/N: Hey y’all! I’ve been working on this for excessively long time, so I hope you like it! It’s four parts total and the whole thing is written, I just have to edit and post them! This story will NOT be forgotten! I’ve posted this on my AO3 (@lynnnieee) as well!

Story on AO3

Slight spoiler for clarification: There is no real way for them to tell time, but I tried to insert people (mainly Peter) guessing how much time has passed using their internal clocks to make the timeline easier to follow because the time between intervals is not equal.

Italics are also mainly Peter’s thoughts.

Thank you and happy reading!! (:

The moment the dust of what had just been Mantis blew away into the wind, Peter knew it was coming for him. What it is exactly, he's not sure, but his spider-sense is burning hot inside his core and causing a small ringing in the back of his head. Drax disappears next, and Peter feels something looming over him. As if Thanos is standing directly behind him and Peter can't move to escape because it's already too late.

"Steady, Quill," Tony says. His voice catches Peter's attention and he looks at his mentor. Please don't take Mr. Stark too, Peter desperately thinks as Quill fades away before his eyes.

The invisible dark cloud behind him is drawing closer and his sense turns the volume of the ringing up to loud alarm bells, begging for him to move or fight or do something, anything, to hold on a little longer to his body.

Tony turns to Dr. Strange, who seems entirely too calm about his impending fate as he says, "There was no other way," before he disintegrates into thin air. Peter feels a sob bubble up in his throat. He's running out of time and he doesn't know what to do.

"Mr. Stark," He chokes out, his balance suddenly beginning to tilt. He twists his wrist, staring at his palm, but it doesn't matter because his body is going numb and he can't feel it anymore. "I don't feel so good." Peter desperately looks to Tony for help.

"You're alright," The man tries to reassure him, but Peter can tell he's afraid too.

"I don't... I don't know what's happening," His feet start to wobble, "I don't know..." His legs give out and he collapses into Tony's arms, clinging onto the inventor for dear life, "I don't want to go," He says, a small sob escaping his mouth.

Tony drops to his knees, holding onto Peter. "Mr. Stark, please, I don't want to go, I don't want to go," Tony sets him down on the ground. The boy is lying on his back in the sienna-colored dirt and mud on the ground, his head leaning against a rock. Peter can plainly see the terror in Tony's eyes as he continues to ramble on, "I don't wanna go."

But it's over too soon, it's too late for him. The dark presence is circling around his body and his spider-sense doesn't know what to do, doesn't know why he's not moving or running away or reacting. His whole body shakes and he knows he's started to dust. He looks at Tony one last time and whispers, "I'm sorry."

Peter shifts his gaze from Tony, choosing to look up at his last view of outer space, something that before this afternoon was only a thing of his dreams, before his vision is overtaken by a bright flash of white light and what's left of his body is blown away by the wind.

~~~

Peter feels like he's been thrust into another dimension. As if every atom in his body was ripped apart only to be forced back together seconds later. He sucks in a huge gulp of air and tries to steady himself before opening his eyes.

By the time he actually peels them open, he realizes he has no idea what he's actually looking at. The sky above him is a misty yet bright orange, like the sun rising at dawn, and the only thing he can see for miles is the Downtown New York Public Library in front of him. He blinks a few times, trying to reassure himself that that can't possibly be what he's looking at.

"Peter?" Someone calls from behind him. He whips around to search for the voice when he suddenly freezes. Standing in front of him and leaning against a pastel yellow old-fashioned car is a man in a worn brown zip-up jacket with a red flannel underneath.

"No," Peter breathes. This can't be right, he thinks, looking in all other directions for any sign of what's going on. But the library, the car, and his Uncle Ben are still the only things there.

"I've missed you, son," Ben says, a small smile forming on his lips.

"Uncle Ben," Peter feels the tears falling down his face, "Y-You're not really here, right? You're just my imagination?" Peter tries to convince himself this is all some crazy dream, but he's having a very hard time believing himself as the man begins to approach him.

"I'm here, Peter, I'm here for you," Ben stops a foot away from him, waiting for Peter to come to him.

And with those words, Peter can't take it any longer. Tears start pouring from his eyes and he throws himself into his uncle's arms, holding on for dear life. "I've missed you so much," He cries into Ben's shoulder.

"Oh, Pete, I've missed you too, but it's okay, you're going to be okay," He tries to calm down his nephew with a gentle smile on his face.

"How are you here? What even is here?" Peter pulls back slightly, whipping his eyes with the back of his hand. He sees the expanse of orange nothingness over his uncle's shoulder, "Where are we?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you all the answers right now," Ben sighs, keeping a firm grip on the boy, "We don't have very much time to spend together."

Peter's heart stops, "What do you mean?" He suddenly pulls back and really looks at the details around him. Uncle Ben's car, Ben's clothes, the library...No, this can't be happening again. "N-No, you don't mean...?"

"Peter-"

He covers his mouth with his hand, "No, y-you die today, Uncle Ben!"

"I know."

"You know?" Peter shakes his head rapidly, too many thoughts appearing in his mind all at once, "How can you know? It-It... You can stop it! You have to!"

"No, I'm afraid that's not-"

"You have to!" Peter explodes, "I-I can stop it! I won't go to the fight, I-I won't let him get away this time, I can stop it! I can save you this time, right Uncle Ben?"

"Peter," Ben says quietly, placing his hands on Peter's shoulders to steady him, "You can't stop it. It's in the past and it's already happened."

More tears shine in Peter's eyes, "But that's why you're here, right? For me to make things right? To let me save you?"

"No, Pete, that's not why I'm here," Ben whispers, wiping away the boy's tears with his thumb, "I'm so sorry, but we can't save each other this time. You can't save me from the past and I can't save you from this place."

"But why do I need to be saved? I don't even know where I am," Petter mutters still trying to wrap his head around the feeling of being in Ben's arms again.

Ben grins at him, "I'm just here to tell you that no matter what happened then, and no matter what happens from now on, I'm so proud of you, my boy. I'm so proud of all that you've become, of all the people you've helped and of the person you've grown up to be."

Peter gapes at his uncle before whispering, "You know that I'm Spider-Man?"

"Of course I do, son," Ben chuckles with a small wink, "I know a lot more than I'm supposed to be letting on."

Peter doesn't really understand what that's supposed to mean, but he doesn't care. "I love you so much, Uncle Ben," He sniffles, "We miss you so much."

"I miss you both more than you'll ever know, but everything's going to be alright, okay, kid?"

Peter starts to feel slightly dizzy and his spider-sense is buzzing like crazy inside his head again. He looks up at Ben in disbelief, "I'm gonna dust away again, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so, Peter. But remember what I said on this day?" Ben holds him in place as if he's trying to hold him in this place for as long as possible.

"With great power comes great responsibilities," Peter recounts, "I've been trying so hard to listen to you, Uncle Ben."

"And you've done an amazing job. You're going to be just fine, Peter. This is your way station to the future and you know I wouldn't lie to you. Just remember to always see the good in people, because you never who you'll find a home in. I love you, my son." The smile on Ben's face is the warmest thing Peter's seen in a long time and he wants to cry all over again.

Peter can barely process the words he's hearing as the ringing in his head grows increasingly louder and his legs go numb. "You're my what?" He tries to ask but it's too late, he's out of time again. And this time around, it's the darkness that takes him away completely.

~~~

Peter knows he must be conscious again when he feels a throbbing yet surprisingly dull ache in the back of his head. His fingers feel wet as they lie beside his body on the ground and he groans, his eyes flickering awake again. Above him, he sees the same bright amber sky he did when he was with Ben. A part of him is tempted to run in search of Ben again, but he knows he won't be here. With his Parker luck, that would just be too good to be true.

He slowly sits up, cringing at the pain it causes to his head. He carefully places a hand on the back of his neck and rubs the base of his skull. The ground beneath him has a thin layer of water resting on top of it, and he can't quite tell if it's yellow sand or something else under the liquid. His fingertips swipe against the ends of his hair and he realizes it isn't wet even though he was just laying down in the water. He swirls his other hand in the pool, but it simply rolls off his hand instead of sticking to his skin.

That's when he notices that the dirt that had caked up on the Iron Spider suit during the battle with Thanos is gone. His entire suit is as clean and sparkling as it was the day Mr. Stark gifted it to him. "What the..." Peter mumbles to himself, before finally looking up at everything else around him.

There are thousands of people scattered all around him, and the amber landscape stretches on forever, just like it did with Ben. He feels like he's looking into a mirror reflection of another mirror, but it never ends and the number of people just keeps expanding. He watches on as more and more people keep materializing out of thin air. Some people are hugging each other, lots are crying, and many are wandering around aimlessly, probably looking for their loved ones.

Peter quickly brings himself to his feet and scans the crowds for any familiar faces. Logically, the Guardians and Dr. Strange should be around here somewhere, Peter thinks, but he doesn't see them anywhere. Peter's eyes nearly bulge out of his head when a grown man walks past him, one with head-to-toe blue skin and a long, thin tail sticking dragging in the water behind him. He does a double-take before quickly looking closer at the people around him. People being a loose term in this circumstance, but he's pretty sure that's a lion with her baby cub far off to the right. Peter's mildly conflicted between trying to get a closer look and running away for fear of being eaten.

Peter mostly sees humans surrounding him, or at least what he assumes are humans, but could truly be a life form from any other planet, he supposes. Just as he turns around, the biggest butterfly he's ever seen (at least a three-foot wingspan!) swoops down over his head and flies off into the distance. The never-ending orange light continues to stretch out behind him in this direction now as well. The library and the car are gone, but they've been replaced by a large brown pavilion, made out of what seems to be wood, but Peter has yet to see any trees here, so he knows that can't be possible, right? Then again, if aliens are here and he saw his dead uncle, anything is possible, right?

Leaning against one of the pillars of the large gazebo-like structure is the only person Peter sees that doesn't look frantic or scared. The tall man with long brown hair has his arms crossed over his chest and is staring up at the new sky. His face is pretty emotionless, but Peter can tell there's a hint of remorse under all that brooding. His face isn't what catches Peter's attention though, it's his left arm. It appears to be... glistening in the amber light. Is he in heaven? Is he dead? Jesus?

Peter quickly shakes that thought away, telling himself how stupid that is. He can't help but walk towards the man anyway though. He's stunned with the realization that the man in front of him is The Winter Soldier. He freezes, not knowing what to do now. On the one hand, he's never officially met the man except for that one time two years ago when they briefly fought in Germany, but he's sure that the Winter Soldier has more important things to remember than him. Though that's honestly the least of Peter's concerns, really. He's completely aware of exactly what Tony thinks of the man and Peter can't help but wonder if his mentor would feel betrayed if Peter tried to be friendly with the soldier. Peter's not afraid of the soldier, he knows he's strong and could probably beat him if he ever needed to, but the Winter Soldier did murder Tony's parents, after all. Peter should probably avoid him because of that, right? Logically, he understands that the soldier was being mind-controlled and probably went through more torture than anyone else involved in the situations, but would that matter to his mentor? The person who's spent so much of his time training him and just hanging out with him? Giving him more family besides May?

But on the other hand... the soldier is familiar. Peter has no idea where he is, or if he's even alive, and even though he doesn't know this guy much beyond his name and scattered bits of his past, he knows Captain America trusts him, and honestly, Peter really wants something familiar right now. He wants someone from home, even if that's as vague as someone who lived in Brooklyn 80 years ago. He wants someone who knows him, even if they maybe don't remember him, and someone who knows about the ordeal with Thanos. Peter scans his surroundings one last time, looking for anyone else he might see that he knows. But at last, he takes a big deep breath and walks the final six feet over to the man, pushing down the small ball of guilt in his head and hoping that Tony would understand.

As Peter gets closer, he senses the cold energy the man lets off. His stance seems to command people to back off with arms tightly crossed over his navy bulletproof vest, the gold lines on his new, black, metal arm shining under the light. His lips are pressed together in a tight line, but Peter notices the depressed yet foreboding look in his eyes and wonders if maybe he's actually a little scared underneath his brooding exterior.

"Um, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir?" Peter says, trying to sound confident. The man turns his head towards him and raises his eyebrow. Peter shuffles his feet, "I'm-I'm Peter, Peter Parker. You probably don't remember me without the, um, the mask, but we met, briefly, in Germany a few years ago," Peter bites his lip and rubs his palms together nervously.

The soldier stares at him for a moment before giving the slightest of head nods, "You're that spider thing, yeah?"

Peter nods quickly, "Y-Yes, that's me, sir."

"Right," Bucky eyes the boy warily, "Just call me Bucky, kid."

"Okay, Mr.- uh Bucky," Peter's lip twitches with a small, nervous smile because holy shit, Bucky Barnes remembers him. "Do you- uh, have any idea where we are?" Peter glances around to make sure nobody is listening to them before leaning in and whispering, "This is because of Thanos, right?"

The sadness Peter sensed in Bucky's face earlier returns to his expression, glazing over in his eyes, "Yeah, this is Thanos," Bucky stares back up to the sky, "He killed Vision in Wakanda, took the mind stone, snapped his fingers, and that was that. Here we are." He shakes his head, putting on his blank stare again, "As for where or what here is, I'm not sure."

Peter tries to suppress the fear bubbling up in him, "Are we dead? Have you found anyone else from home? Any of the other Avengers?" If they are dead, Peter can only hope and pray once more than Mr. Stark isn't here. Or Aunt May, or Ned, or... or anyone he loves. He'd rather be on his own than have all his loved ones be dead along with him. Plus, maybe he'll find some company in Bucky.

But if they are dead... that means Uncle Ben and his parents should be around here somewhere, right? Although, Peter thinks, all this nothingness isn't exactly what he pictured when he thought about Heaven. And if this was Heaven, shouldn't God be around here somewhere? He could imagine everyone growing very bored very fast here. Does that mean it's Hell then?

Bucky raises his eyebrow at Peter again, this time as he sarcastically looks around for other people they know. Peter snaps out of his lull and cringes, "Right, sorry, dumb question."

"Thanos wanted to wipe out fifty percent of all living things in the universe, so I have no idea if we'll find people we know even if they are here. I already see lotta aliens though." Bucky states, looking out into the ever-growing crowds.

"B-But, I mean, I sort of know you, and I found you, so it's not impossible, right?" Peter all but begs him. Ben may not be here, but if Aunt May or Ned or Mr. Stark are, he needs to know about it. He has to be able to do something to find them.

His desperate hope seems to catch Bucky off guard as the man finally makes eye contact with him. "Kid," He sighs, "I don't know how far out this place goes, whatever it is. It could be like finding a needle in the universe's largest haystack."

"But we can't just give up!" Peter nearly yells, catching the attention of a blonde woman in the pavilion before she quickly turns back to the crying child in front of her. "I mean, what if Captain Rogers is here, wouldn't you want to find him?" Peter asks, the desperation once again slipping into his tone.

Bucky presses his lips together into a thin line, "I don't know what you want me to tell you. If you want to run off and go searching for your family, be my guest, but you and I both know that this place probably goes on forever and you might not find your way back to this point if you do." Bucky sighs again, glaring at the ground, "Steve's not here, and it's not like I've got anybody else to search for, so I'll be here until I see a reason to be somewhere else."

"But how do you kn-" Peter tries to ask, but the glare Bucky gives him tells him to stop, so instead he just nods, "Okay," Peter mumbles. Maybe he'll take Bucky's advice and just wait it out here until the chaos dies down. If the chaos ever dies down.

He sits down into the water and leans his back against the pillar. Staring at Bucky's black boots for a second, he realizes that they almost seem to rest on top of the water instead of plunging beneath it. He dips his fingers into the clear liquid again but it rolls off, the same as when he woke up. "You know, for being water, this stuff is pretty non-absorbant." Peter blurts out, catching Bucky's eye.

"What?" Bucky questions, frowning down at the boy on the ground. Peter's not entirely sure if Bucky's asking about the water or more so just what's wrong with him, but Peter decides to assume the former.

"Yeah, look," Peter cups a small amount of the liquid in his hand and dumps it right on top of his head. Bucky's eyebrows both shoot up and now he's definitely asking himself what's wrong with Peter, but to Peter's point, the water slides right off his hair like oil, leaving dry strands behind. Bucky slowly sinks down to sit beside Peter, his interest peaked. Peter smiles to himself at the small victory, trying to push away the thoughts of being stuck here forever to instead be in this moment with Bucky.

Bucky cups his hand full of the water and spills it onto his cargo pants. Sure enough, it slides right off in tiny droplets, rejoining itself with the pool on the ground. "Are you sure it's water?" Bucky asks quietly, swishing his metal finger around in the curious liquid.

"Huh," Peter considers it, "I didn't think of that. Guess we should give it a try, right?" Before Bucky can respond, Peter cups more in his hand and brings it to his mouth.

"Wait, don't-" The soldier goes to stop him, but it's too late, Peter's already drinking it.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and determines, "Tastes like water."

Bucky gives him a blank stare before saying, "That literally could have been anything and you drank it anyway." Peter shrugs, and Bucky rolls his eyes, but actually chuckles, "You remind me of Steve."

"Really?" Peter smiles, thinking what a compliment that is to receive from Captain America's best friend.

"Yeah," Bucky smirks, "You're small and careless."

Peter's grin grows, "So like, pre-serum Captain America?"

"With the strength of post-serum Steve." Bucky nods, then hesitates before adding, "Couldn't believe when you'd caught my punch like it was nothing that day." Some of Bucky's old Brooklyn accent slips into his voice, and it makes Peter feel much more at home than he thinks it should.

Peter looks at Bucky's new vibranium arm, the metal fingers still dipped below the water's surface. "I thought your arm was the coolest thing in the world, still kinda do, if I'm being honest." Bucky gives him such a sincere smile that Peter has to look away in fear of blushing too hard, "Mr. Stark would never admit it, but I think he got a lot of inspiration from the dynamics of your old arm for the new Stark line of prosthetics."

Peter instantly regrets bringing up the genius when Bucky's smile drops. "So, you're actually really close with Stark, huh?" He asks, seeming so unsure of himself for someone who is often thought of as a terrifying assassin. Peter nods but winces at the guilty look that spreads across Bucky's face. "Right," Bucky whispers to himself, staring off into the distance. Peter recognizes from experience the look in his eyes and realizes his mind is probably drifting into dangerous waters.

Although he'd like to reaffirm to Bucky that he doesn't judge him based on his past because that wasn't really him, his loyalty to Tony gets caught in his throat, stopping the words. He shakes his head, sensing Bucky would rather move on from the topic anyway. "Do you like the new arm better? Where'd you get it anyway?"

Bucky's eyes dart back to the boy next to him who's staring at his prosthetic like it's one of the seven wonders of the world. "It's a hell of a lot lighter, that's for sure," Bucky explains, his jaw still tight, "I used to get serious backaches from lugging around the old one. The princess of Wakanda made it for me after Steve took me there to get my mind fixed."

Peter's eye bulge out of his head, "You lived in Wakanda? That's so awesome. I've seen King T'Challa on the news since they opened their borders and it looks so amazing. The technology is just so, so groundbreaking and unbelievable there!"

Bucky's expression finally softens and he smiles at Peter's ramblings, "It was very beautiful. You'd probably like Princess Shuri, I think she's around your age and she runs all the technology in Wakanda."

"Did you know her?" Peter gasps excitedly.

"Not much," Bucky grins thinking back on his home in Wakanda, his first real home since Brooklyn, "She was real busy and I was content on my farm. I never knew I loved animals so much until the king gave me a small cottage and some land to raise livestock."

Peter can't believe that the Winter Soldier seemed so fulfilled living on a small farm raising animals, the simple life. But he deserves that happiness after all he's been through. "Did you have a favorite kind of animal to raise?" Peter asks as he tries not to let it show on his face that he's just realized Bucky's been ripped away from his home once again.

"Goats," Bucky chuckles, "Man, I loved those goats." He doesn't seem sad about the loss though, Peter thinks he looks happy to reminisce about it. He probably hasn't gotten to talk about it much.

"You have goats? I love goats, I've always wanted to see one!" Peter exclaims.

Bucky quirks his eyebrow, "You've never seen a goat in person?"

Peter shakes his head, "Nope, I've always lived in the city and there aren't a whole lot of farms or petting zoos in New York City." Peter's eyes light up with an idea, "Hey, maybe when all of this is over, I can come and visit your goats in Wakanda!"

Bucky smiles at Peter's hopefulness. If Thanos has all the infinity stones, they both know they're probably not getting out of this. They'll be here for the rest of their lives like the Mad Titan intended, but they could both use something peaceful to look forward to right now. "Yeah, sure, Peter."

"Promise?" Peter holds out his pinky, a nervous half-smile gracing his face.

Bucky chuckles, gripping it in return with his own pinky, a soft warmth humming through his body at the touch, "Promise."

~~~

It didn't take long for Peter to figure out that pretty much no one knows anything about where they are, and it's become abundantly clear there are few ways to get any definitive answers to the hundreds of questions floating around. It's not entirely hopeless though, Peter acknowledges, as they've all collectively learned some useful things since the day they first arrived.

First of all, Peter realized right away that there is no way of telling time, as the burnt orange light never grows any darker or brighter, it's always just as they found it. If he had to guess based on only his internal clock, Peter would say it's been about a week since he first woke up. With his extensive scientific knowledge, however, he deduces that time could be moving faster or slower here than it does on Earth, much like how time works significantly differently in the quantum realm. Therefore, any time predictions he can make are essentially useless to everybody but his own state of mind, as Bucky likes to remind him when the spiderling pesters him with questions about the time.

"How long do you think we've been here?"

"No clue. God, I hope this stupid light dulls at some point."

"But if you had to guess? How long has it felt?"

"Jesus, Peter, I don't know. A dozen hours at the most, maybe?"

"Okay, good I guess. I was thinking half a day so at least we're thinking the thing."

"Even though it doesn't really matter because we'll never know if that's accurate."

"Right, yeah, of course. Were there already a lot of people here when you woke up?"

"Not really, it was pretty sparse."

"Were you alone for long before I found you?"

"...Peter."

"I know, I know! We have zero way of knowing and all that, but do you think you were?"

"No, not really."

"So, if you had to guess-"

"I get the feeling you're going to make me."

"-How many hours would you say?"

"Although this is just my interpretation and it means nothing-"

"Of course, of course."

"-Less than an hour."

"Wow, so really not long in the grand scheme of things."

"Sure."

"Hey, Bucky?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"I haven't seen anyone else rapidly materialize for a while now."

"Me neither."

"How long would you say it's been-"

"PETER!"

The other findings of their new world were also pretty immediate. Whatever sort of beings this place has turned them into eliminated their need for food, drink, and the use of a bathroom. That was actually quite a relief to discover because this realm is sorely lacking all those things. Days had passed (possibly) when people began to talk outside their small groups and everyone agreed that they were not hungry or thirsty, but also didn't have any insufficiencies in strength or energy because of it. The elderly were stronger than they had been in their life forms and those who had been ill were healed upon arrival.

As for sleep, it's unclear to Peter whether they still need it or not. He has rested and fallen asleep a couple of times, but more out of boredom than real exhaustion. Aside from being able to feel things and each other, it's almost as if they're ghosts.

What Peter noticed the humans around him struggled with the most is the lack of privacy. With only about a dozen large pavilions discovered so far in the seemingly never-ending orange expanse, privacy was nearly impossible to achieve. The other species were an entirely different story though. Most of the other human-like species wanted their privacy as well, while all the animals or species without the ability to communicate vocally with humans seemed to have no problem with having no place to take shelter. Because none of them were hungry, the prey learned they had no reason to hide from predators.

A rather recent development came in the form of King T'Challa and his goal of reuniting people and families as best he can. Peter guessed it was around five days in when he and Bucky first caught sight of King T'Challa and his sister, the princess of Wakanda, Shuri. Bucky saw them first and was quick to drag Peter along with him to meet them, but Peter's sure Bucky's intentions for bringing him along had more to do with not wanting to lose sight of him in the crowds and less about introducing the boy to his royal friends. T'Challa had apparently awoken with his sister fairly close by. The King explained that most of the people around them were very distressed and alone, and so he and Shuri have taken up the job of helping people find with their families ever since. While it's been a struggle, but he has a plan in place, starting with collecting last names and finding multilingual beings of any species willing to help him out. For the humans T'Challa can communicate with, he's done his best to explain the Thanos situation, in the hopes that it will soon become common knowledge among the intelligible species here.

Aside from those baseline discoveries, that's been... it, really. Peter has yet to find any sign of his family or friends and therefore spent his whole week with Bucky. They can't do much because as beautiful as it is, this remains a pretty dull place. So, he and Bucky just talk, take breaks to stare at their new sky for some quiet, and occasionally sleep out of boredom. As far as companionship goes though, Peter thinks he could have done so much worse than Bucky. He'd actually argue that Bucky's company is the best he could have. The soldier was understandably stiff at first, but Peter did his best to stay positive and make witty remarks whenever he can, just like he does as Spider-Man. Bucky eventually started quipping back instead of just staring at Peter. His jokes were so subtle at first Peter almost missed it, but they soon fell in sync with each other. Even though it hasn't been that long, Peter thinks he's defintiley made a true friend.

"I think I'm gonna take the Iron Spider suit off, it's getting too hot in here."

"Do whatever you want, kid."

"...Um, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you have a second fully equipped Spider-Man suit under your state-of-the-art Spider-Man suit?"

"Oh! Um, yeah, I forgot about that."

"Did you now?"

"Stop laughing, I can explain!"

"I'm waiting."

"Well, you see, Mr. Stark said to save the wizard and so I followed the Squidward alien who captured Dr. Strange onto the donut ship, but then as I webbed onto the side of it, it started flying back into space-"

"..."

"-And the higher it went, the less I could breathe, obviously, because I was on the outside of the ship. Did I already say that? Whatever. Anyway, Mr. Stark flew up in his Iron Man suit and sent the Iron Spider suit to me to cover me over my original Spider-Man suit as I passed out and fell off the ship so I could breathe again and you know, live-"

"..."

"Then he tried to send me back home by releasing the suit's parachute but I webbed myself onto the donut again because I figured he'd need the back up in space."

"..."

"So, yeah. Two suits."

"...Did you ever save the wizard?"

"Yup! Wait, no. Well, yes from Squidward. But then he died again when Thanos snapped us all away. He should be around here somewhere. The Guardians too."

"So, are we deciding that being here means we're dead then?"

"Maybe, I'm not actually sure what to call this."

"I'm gonna go with being dead. That would be a relief. Life is too fucking stressful."

"You know, I think you'd be great in the 21st Century, Bucky."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! Your dark and self-deprecating sense of humor means you would totally love all the internet memes that most Baby Boomers think are sad and not funny. Depression and suicide jokes are almost always sure to get a laugh. And since you're from the G.I. Generation, you can prove that it's not only young people who love dark humor and think Boomers are the worst!"

"Alright?"

"One day, I'll teach you all about meme culture and vines (R.I.P). You'll definitely love it!"

"...That sounds great, Peter. I can't wait."

Peter loves learning about what Bucky's life was like before HYDRA took him and hearing stories about Captain America back in the 40s and as a child. Peter was initially surprised when Bucky expressed an equal amount of interest in hearing about Peter's life in Queens. Peter told him all about Aunt May, Ned and MJ, Flash's teasing (Bucky wasn't quite so amused by that one and Peter changed the subject at the dark wash of anger that passed through Bucky's eyes), how he became Spider-Man, and when Tony Stark recruited him.

He tries to keep the topic of Tony short any time he comes up because of the heartbreaking guilt that Bucky poorly hides whenever the man is mentioned. Although he feels like a bad person to have thought this, Peter thinks Bucky's noticeable and sizable guilt has actually lessened his own guilt towards Tony. Knowing that Bucky feels genuine regret and sorrow for the actions he was forced to do proves to Peter that he's not the man his mentor believes him to be. The small ball of fear of disloyalty will always be with him, but it affects Peter less every day as he grows more and more attached to Bucky.

That's sort of becoming the problem, actually. Peter's feelings of friendship slowly morphed into something more, something, well, not so friendly. More often, he finds himself watching Bucky's lips move when he talks or his skin growing hot under his suit when Bucky lets him examine his prosthetic arm and their faces are so much closer than usual. Their lazy, sleepy talks before they fall asleep are Peter's new favorite thing. Bucky running his hand through Peter's hair while the boy lets out all his worries, Peter comforting Bucky when the man wakes up from nightmares, and the pair fast asleep while laying all over each other. The whole thing has turned so oddly intimate that Peter hasn't felt this safe with someone since he was a young kid.

"...And I know King T'Challa is doing his best to find her, but we're all each other has left. Before Mr. Stark came along, it had just been her and I, and sometimes Ned, for the longest time, ever since, well, nevermind. I honestly don't know if it's better to have her alive and well in New York but all alone or have her stuck here but with me. She's lost so much and I don't want her to think I'm gone too."

"I wish I knew what to tell you, Pete, but I'd bet that if I were her, I'd rather be here with you than on Earth alone right now."

"How did you know Steve wasn't here?"

"Before you woke up here, did you maybe... go somewhere else first?"

"Did you?"

"I-I was back at the Stark Expo in the 1940s, sort of, but Steve was there. Not the Steve everyone knows and loves, but my Stevie. My scrawny and tiny Steve that wanted to fight every bad guy in the world even though he couldn't even breathe right."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me about Thanos, he told me... he told me that I was going somewhere he couldn't follow, but that I wouldn't be alone. I teased him about being my guardian angel. Guess he saw you coming, didn't he?"

"...Ben called it a way station, I think."

"What?"

"The pit stop between Earth and here. I saw my Uncle Ben who died a few years ago. He said that he was my way station to the future."

"Is that all he said?"

"He told me he was proud of me, and-and all I could do was cry and tell him over and over how much I missed him. He was exactly how he was the day he died and it was all my fault and-and he's proud of me, but he shouldn't be because I was petty and wanted revenge and now he's dead because of it."

"Peter, I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

"It is, Bucky! It is! I entered a contest to win money so I could buy a car to impress a girl, but after I won the guy wouldn't pay up and I had to leave empty-handed. A minute later a mugger came in a robbed him and I could have stopped him from getting away but I just let him go to make the guy who owed me money feel just as cheated as I did. I guess the robber needed a car because he tried to take Ben's but when Ben wouldn't let him get away, so the robber shot him. Don't you see, Bucky, it's all my fault! Ben got killed for being the only person to do the right thing."

"I know how it feels to think like that Peter, but it wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"No, just- hear me out, okay? Yeah, you did a stupid thing, but I know that if you had even the suspicion that that guy wanted anything more than a crook's money, that he ever thought of killing someone, you never would have let him get away. I know it'd hard to admit to yourself, but you know that too. You're a good person through and through, kid. Okay? Can you trust me on that one?"

"Only if you trust me that you're a good person inside too."

"That's a whole other story, Peter."

"No, it's not. You didn't get a choice in the things they made you do and you're not a bad person because of it."

"I just make people's lives harder by being in them. I mean for god sakes' look at Steve. Even when he was small and sick, Stevie's always been the stronger one between the two of us. He adapted so well to the modern world after being pulled out of the ice and he was doing so good because he found people to be there for him, no matter how much he insists he can do everything alone. He had a home and a team and then I came along he lost everything he loves all over again, just like the ice took from him. I don't deserve to ever have the kind of family he did. I never got much choice in whether or not I was alone, but the more I lived, the more I realized that it's just better for everyone if I am."

"Bucky-"

"No, I'm sorry, you can pretend I didn't say all that. I didn't mean to go off on you like that."

"Don't be sorry, Bucky. I want to help you if I can because you help me. You know, during my moment with Ben, he told me to see the good in people because I'll never know who I'll find a home in. I think he saw you coming too, Bucky, like maybe Steve saw me. Steve did what he did for you because he loves you. I'm sure he'll never regret that. I wouldn't if I were him."

"Thanks, Peter, but I'm not worth all the effort and loss. He deserves so much better. You do too."

"I don't think that's true, you're definitely more than worth it. Nobody deserves to be put through what you've gone through."

"Maybe, but maybe I didn't deserve to be saved either. I should have just been eliminated. I shouldn't have gotten that choice to be alone or not."

"You're not going to be alone anymore, Bucky."

"How can you be sure I'm what your uncle meant?"

"Because I see how great you are, and how good you are. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't believe that. Steve wouldn't either. You're going to have the choice to be with people in your life because you deserve it."

"People aren't exactly lining up to hang out with someone who's done the things I've done."

"...Peter, what're you doing?"

"Getting in line. I got here extra early to make sure that I was first."

It wasn't until one day Peter awoke half-hard with his head in Bucky's lap that he realized his feelings might be becoming a problem. But at the same time, he doesn't know how to stop his feelings because it seems impossible not to be attracted to this god-like man, especially now that Peter really knows him.

So, Peter knows he's definitely fucked. Surely and thoroughly fucked.

~~~

"Peter!" The boy jolts awake at the sound of someone distantly screaming his name. He picks his head up off of Bucky's legs, blinking a few times to allow his eyes to adjust once again to the sudden bright orange light. He squints into the distance, searching for where the voice is coming from.

"Good morning," Bucky's low morning voice grumbles beside him. Peter tries not to stare as Bucky runs a hand through his long hair and then stretches his arms in the air, his shirt riding up and exposing the skin around his waist.

"Yo, Peter!" They both hear again, but this voice is definitely different from the first. It's a little deeper but slightly more feminine sounding.

Peter bites his lip and forces his gaze away from how gorgeous Bucky looks when he wakes up. "Any idea who that might be?" Bucky stands, his eyes also scanning the crowd as he reaches a hand out to Peter, pulling him to his feet as well.

Peter starts to shake his head, he has a suspicion of who it is but doesn't want to get his hopes up. But then his eyes suddenly lock on two figures pushing past people and charging towards them. His expression breaks out into a beaming grin, "Oh my god," He whispers to himself.

Bucky chuckles beside him, "Friends of yours?"

"Ned! MJ!" Peter hollers and starts waving his arms around like a lunatic, the duo now running even faster towards him.

Peter whips around to Bucky, his face inexplicably bright, "I never thought I'd see them again, Bucky, can you believe this!" He's told Bucky all about his fanboy best friend and the snarky girl from the academic decathlon team. He's practically bouncing up and down and all Bucky can do is laugh fondly at Peter's excitement before the teens reach them.

"Peter!" Ned shouts in his face, nearly knocking Peter over with the force of his hug. MJ trails behind him, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. "I can't believe you're here!" Ned yells into Peter's ear again.

"Ned, you're here!" Peter exclaims, pulling away from the boy's hug to see his face, "You're really here!" He turns to look at MJ and beams at her too, "MJ, oh my god, this is crazy." He doesn't even know what to say. He's so excited to see them again, and Ned gives amazing hugs, but he's also so sad that they're stuck here and not at home with their families, safe and definitely alive.

"Hey Peter," She raises an eyebrow teasingly looking at his clothes, "What? Were you caught in the middle of LARPing or something?" Peter glances down at his Spider-Man suit and his face burns. He hadn't considered that all these people would either think he's a complete nerd (which, to be fair, he is) or realize that he's actually Spider-Man.

He bites his lip nervously, "Oh, um-"

Before Peter can finish whatever bullshit explanation he was trying to think of, Bucky buts in with, "The hell is LARPing?"

Ned just now seems to notice the man beside his friend and his eyes grow to become the size of saucers, his jaw falling open. MJ, on the other hand, simply shrugs, "Live-Action Role-Playing. It's when dorks go to a park or something dressed as superheroes or fantasy characters and pretend to be them."

Bucky looks from the girl to Peter's suit and snorts, "Yeah, Peter, tell her all about what you get up to on the weekends." Peter playfully glares at the man's smirk.

"Well, you see-"

"Dude!" Ned shouts, grabbing Peter's arm, and cutting Peter off once again. "That's the Winter Soldier," He says in shock as if Bucky isn't standing right there and can totally hear him.

"Uh, yeah, it is," Peter twiddles his thumbs together, getting nervous about the whole situation. This day has already been much more eventful than the past three weeks -- Peter's best guess relative to the number of times he's sleep for a 'night' -- have been, and he doesn't really know how to explain to his best friend why he's been hanging out with Bucky all that time instead of looking for Aunt May and his friends.

Bucky's smirk has drooped a little at the mention of his HYDRA name, but he opens his mouth to reply anyway when someone shouts, "Buck!" His face drops and Peter can see the hint of fear in his eyes. Peter anxiously looks around for who's calling the man, nervous for Bucky's sake that it might be Steve. Peter knows Bucky would find a way to make this whole situation his fault and never forgive himself if Steve was stuck here, meaning he's possibly dead, too. He believes Bucky when he says Steve isn't here, but since they've never actually looked...

But thankfully, Peter sees King T'Challa approaching them all with the birdman Peter met the same day he met Bucky in Germany.

Bucky grins tauntingly when Sam rolls his eyes with a smile, "Man, of all the people I could get trapped in here with, it had to be you, didn't it?" Bucky gives him a one-armed hug, clapping his hand against Sam's back.

"It looks like you're stuck with me for all of eternity now," Bucky grins smugly.

"Hello again, Sergeant Barnes, Peter," T'Challa nods to them, "I found this one," He gestures to Sam, "many hours ago, and he asked me to lead him to you."

"Aw, did you miss me?" Bucky teases him, earning a shove from Sam.

"Looks like it's a day for reunions all around," Peter says softly, smiling at his friends. He anxiously turns to the king, "Have you heard or seen anything about my Aunt May?"

T'Challa smiles sadly, "I'm sorry, I've been keeping an eye and ear out for a May Parker, but I'm afraid I have not come up with anything as of yet."

Bucky places a comforting hand on his shoulder and a slightly forced grin slips onto Peter's face, "That's okay! I appreciate you keeping a watch for me," And Peter means it, mostly. Not finding May is a good thing, it might mean she's not here and she's at home, safe and sound.

"Speaking of, no sign of Steve yet? I haven't come across him and T'Challa said he hasn't either." Sam asks Bucky.

"No," Bucky shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding eye contact, "And I get feeling Steve would have made his presence known by now, so I'm willing to bet he's not here."

"Yeah," Sam nods, releasing a breath, "That's good though, right?"

An uneasy silence fills the air for a moment before Shuri claps her hands together, "Well, we must get going, enjoy your reunion with one another. We will see you another time. Boys," She nods to Sam and Bucky, "Spider-Boy," She nods to Peter, the smug smile on her face telling him she's just trying to tease him.

"Spider-Boy?" Sam asks, narrowing his eyes at Peter before realization dawns on him, "Oh, kid from the airport who likes to talk?"

"That's the one," Bucky smirks at MJ as Peter's face darkens to the color of a tomato.

"So, hold on," MJ raises a hand, "You're actually Spider-Man?"

She doesn't seem all that surprised, or maybe she's just too good at hiding it, but either way, Peter shrugs, "Sort of?"

She barks out a laugh, "Oh man, is Flash here? Wait until he gets a load of this, he's gonna shit his pants!" Peter can't help but laugh along at the thought, especially considering what a huge fan he is. It's not an uncommon occurrence to see Flash walking around Midtown in a Spider-Man shirt, some of them even homemade.

"Well, this is a weird group of people to find you with, Barnes," Sam teases, "What the hell happened here?"

Bucky rolls his eyes, "The kid found me right when we got here and it's been just us until these two showed up just before you did." Peter catches his eye and didn't even know it was possible for his face to blush even harder until Bucky winks at him.

Sam squints his eyes and points at Ned, who currently has his head in his hands as he frantically looks between the two Avengers with his mouth open, "Uh, is he okay?"

Peter sighs, pressing his knuckle to his forehead, and praying to God that Ned won't embarrass him in front of Bucky, "Yeah, he's fine. He just needs a minute to lose his mind over being in the presence of two Avengers. Hold on one second, I've got this," MJ snorts as Peter pulls her and Ned to the side to talk. Peter glances back at the pair, hoping he's moved his friends far enough away that the soldiers won't hear them.

"I can't believe you've been hanging out with the Winter Soldier this whole time!" Ned gasps, clearly trying to keep his voice down, but ultimately not really succeeding.

"He was the only face I recognized when I woke up and I thought he might know what was going on," Peter tries to brush it off, "How did the two of you find each other?"

MJ shrugs, "I don't know, I was just sitting in one of those wooden things people watching for who knows how long when basically he fell on top of me, yelling my name." She rolls her eyes again, but Peter thinks she looks a little fond of Ned's overenthusiastic antics.

"I was excited and I tripped," Ned gives him an embarrassed smile, finally taking his off of the Avengers, "She was the first and only familiar face I've seen until now," Ned then starts rapidly poking Peter's arm, "But literally who cares about that, tell us about him," Ned gestures over to where Bucky is standing with Sam. To Peter's surprise, even MJ looks mildly interested.

"Oh, right, that," Peter stares at the ground anxiously, kicking his foot into the water and splashing some around, "I don't know, we just talk, maybe sleep if we get bored. He tells me old stories about Captain America. It's just... nice. It's really nice." Peter grins to himself, subconsciously biting the corner of his bottom lip.

"Oh my god, Peter," MJ says sarcastically, "you're into him, aren't you?"

"What?" Peter and Ned yelp at the same time as Peter snaps his head up, staring at her with wide eyes. Ned's head jerks towards Peter, anxiously awaiting an explanation, and Peter just can't believe she caught on so fast. He was being subtle!

"How did you- No, I don't!" Peter frantically exclaims.

Ned dramatically gasps and repeatedly swats at Peter's arm, "You do!"

"Idiots," MJ rolls her eyes then shoots the boys a smirk, "But for real, I thought this place was crazy before, but now Peter Parker is Spider-Man and he's getting it on with the Winter Soldier? Like alright, holy shit."

"Shh!" Peter shushes them both, "First of all, we are not getting it on. And second, keep your voice down, the whole world doesn't need to know that I have an embarrassing crush on Bucky!" He whisper-screams to his two friends, the look on his face screaming sheer terror. He can't stop his intrusive thoughts from asking what would happen if Bucky overhears them and gets weird out by what a freak he is? What if he ditches him because of it?

"Technically, it's only half the world," MJ interjects but Peter pretends not to hear her.

"I especially don't want Bucky to know!" Peter glances back at the man quickly. His arms are crossed and a small grin plays on his lips while he listens to Sam animatedly tell him something. He doesn't seem to have heard them, but with his enhanced hearing Peter can't know for sure. He tries to take a deep breath to call himself down, but it doesn't feel like he's working.

Ned tips his head like he's still trying to wrap his brain around the whole situation, while MJ just squints at him with a simpering smile, "Please, he's totally into you too. I've only been around him for like five minutes but he's already being so soft on you. He's been glancing over here literally every other second with just this look of sad concern or longing or whatever." She shakes her head smugly, "For a brainwashed assassin, he sure gets whipped easily."

Peter groans and buries his face in his hands, "MJ, it's really not like that. He's... he's wonderful, and he's not brainwashed anymore, but he definitely doesn't see me like that. He probably just thinks I'm some stupid kid he has to keep an eye on." Peter's always known that to be true, but it still makes his heartache at having to admit it out loud.

MJ, however, doesn't seem to be buying what Peter's selling at all. She raises an eyebrow accusingly and places a hand on her hip, "Are you trying to tell me you guys haven't been hanging out just the two of you for the past three weeks since we got here, and that you haven't been having a good time?"

"No, but MJ that doesn't mean-"

"And has he pushed you away and not been letting you be your overly touchy self? Does he complain when you lay all over him like you were when we found you?" She gives him her best are-you-fucking-kidding-me stare.

Peter squirms, thinking about the soft little smile that crosses Bucky's face when Peter touches him, "Well, no-"

"That's all I'm saying," The smirk that seems to consistently reside on her face says it all, and it irritates Peter slightly that she can read him so well. Her face brightens mischievously and she suddenly does a little wave to something behind Peter that has him whipping around at the speed of light and wishing he could crawl into a hole and die, "Oh look, here he comes now!"

~~~

Over the possible weeks that passed, the odd group dynamic between two and a half Avengers and two and a half regular high schoolers worked out much better than Peter initially expected it would. Bucky and MJ got on like a house on fire resulting in a never-ending storm of sarcastic comments. Ned loved hearing all the stories Sam would tell about his time in the military and as the Falcon with the rogue Avengers and Sam was more than happy to share them.

As glad as Peter is to have his friends back with him, he still finds himself crawling back to Bucky when he misses home or wants to feel as if he's wrapped in one big safety blanket. Just by sitting next to Bucky Peter feels more at ease and less anxious. He tries not to think about his feelings for the soldier, but sometimes it's hard when the intrusive thoughts in the back of his mind tell him that maybe Bucky is feeling the same way. He obviously hangs out with Sam a lot now, but any time Bucky's going to sleep or just needs a moment of silence, he goes to seek out Peter, and Peter's insomnia-ridden mind always has a field day keeping him awake with every possible imagination of why this might be.

Like right now, for example, when MJ, Ned, and Sam are all passed out in a pile under the roof of the pavilion, Bucky and Peter sit in silence at their go-to spot on the edge of the structure. Peter tossed his legs over Bucky's and leaned his head back onto a wooden beam. The man beside him traces the lines on the spider suit near the boy's ankles and Peter can't help shiver slightly at the warm and fuzzy tingling that it sends through his body.

"Y'know, I really miss the night," Peter blurts out as he gazes up at the intense light that is constantly showering over them.

"Yeah?" Bucky mumbles, staring intently at Peter.

"Yeah," Peter nods gingerly, "My senses get overloaded pretty fast since the spider bite and the dark protected me from that even more than my mask did, so I always did better Spider-Man work at night. It's also easier to hide at night, and all the bad guys seem to think they're invisible at night so they creep out then too." He blushes when he sees Bucky watching him ramble on with such a small, yet tender smile on his face.

"I didn't have to worry about anybody figuring out my identity because nobody ever knew I was there until I caught them doing something bad," Peter laughs quietly, "I loved the look they would get on their faces when I showed up. They always underestimated me and it was so invigorating because eventually, it would always morph into that look where they know I've got them and that-"

"-They're fucked," Bucky whispers. Peter locks his eyes with the Bucky's and smiles nervously. With the super soldier's enhancements, he wouldn't be surprised if Bucky could hear his heart pounding out of his chest right now under the soldier's ardent stare.

Peter weakly nods and digs his teeth into his lower lip, "Do you think we're ever going home?" He breathes, unwilling to shake his eye contact with Bucky. His skin begins to burn under the passionate scrutiny of Bucky's darkening eyes. Peter has caught him staring at him like this a few times before over the recent days, but it usually happened when Peter was only just waking up and Bucky's always quick to catch himself and look away before the boy had time to ogle him right back. He's surprised Bucky hasn't turned away and tried to pretend he wasn't looking this time, but Peter can't seem to draw his attention away from Bucky long enough to think properly on that right now. The look in Bucky's eyes triggers more sensations in Peter than he's ever felt all at once before, but more than anything, the feeling of want bubbles up inside every inch of his body.

Bucky opens his mouth to respond but then quickly hesitates. He rolls his tongue carefully between his lips and says lowly, "Sometimes I'm not sure I want to go back."

Peter's breathing hitches and he slowly shuffles even closer into Bucky's personal space. Bucky doesn't hesitate to wrap his arm around the small of Peter's back to hold him in place. Peter's voice unintentionally drops even quieter and he's unable to stop the obvious wanton from slipping into his tone, "You don't? Why?"

Bucky's eyes flick swiftly to Peter's lips before they train back on the boy's eyes, full of more unrestrained fervor than Peter's ever seen Bucky allow himself to show, "You know why."

All at once, their lips are harshly pressed against one another's and Peter has no clue who leaned in first but he can't find any part of himself that cares. His body is flush against Bucky's chest and the kiss is already so intense that he begins to feel lightheaded as his weeks-long need is finally starting to feel sated. Bucky swipes his tongue along Peter's lower lip and the boy moans into the older man's mouth as he parts his lips.

Peter doesn't have much experience with any of this, but he hopes that what he lacks in knowledge he makes up for in enthusiasm because good lord, he's only been kissing Bucky for less than a minute and he already wants to do it forever. He presses his hand against Bucky's cheek, feeling the stubble (that never seems to grow out into a full beard in this place) tickle his palm. His other hand finds Bucky's shirt and he clenches his fingers around the material to reassert his space in reality, but that must have triggered Bucky's own grip on reality because he's abruptly pulling back from Peter and moving to the side, away from the boy.

Peter whimpers at the loss and opens his eyes in flash, instantly picking up on the hint of shock in Bucky's eyes that he's clearly trying to hide. "Fuck," Bucky mutters as he breathes heavily.

Peter hurries to catch his own breath, "Bucky?"

"I'm sorry," Bucky mumbles, "I-I shouldn't have..." He shakes his head and stands up, facing away from Peter.

Peter scurries to his feet and takes a step toward him, "Why... why not?" Peter reaches out and gently wraps his fingers around Bucky's right wrist. "I wanted-"

"Stop," Bucky growls, effectively cutting him off. He huffs a sigh and looks over his shoulder at Peter, "We can't."

Peter chokes down the tears rolling up in his throat and burning his eyes, "Is this-... Am I-..." He struggles to find the right words that won't send Bucky running, "Do you not want this?" He settles on, his voice much more vulnerable than he intended for it to be.

Bucky's eyes finally meet his again, "Peter..." He says desperately, but then his eyes turn hard and he turns his head away again, killing any hope Peter might have had. "We just can't, okay?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he swiftly dislodges his wrist from Peter's grip and stalks off.

Peter's lip wobbles and he bites it hard to keep it still as he slumps back against the wooden pillar in their spot, watching Bucky walk away from him. A tear slides down his cheek and he finds himself questioning whether or not Bucky will actually come back to him.

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N: So I know that each soul stone experience is supposed to be based on a specific memory like Thanos’ thing with little Gamora, but for this story, since so many people are all in one landscape, I just sort of shaped it around the vague clip from Infinity War and the pavilions are basically inspired by the structure Gamora stood in, even though I know that’s not a universal memory. It’s not super relevant, but I hope that clears my intentions up a little bit!

As far as I’m aware, they never mention what happened specifically with Uncle Ben in the Tom Holland Spider-Man universe, so for the parts talking about Uncle Ben, I just used what happened in the first Spider-Man movie with Tobey Maguire, imagining Ben as being around May’s age from the MCU spider-man movies.

#winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #peter x bucky #avengers #Marvel MCU #fluff and angst #peter parker #Bucky Barnes #soft bucky #infinity stone soul world #soul stone #time is an illusion

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bluezey · 4 years ago

Text

Inside Onward - The Gauntlet

We’re getting into the part of the story I couldn’t wait to write. Just like you all (I hope) I was excited to get to this part. So, of course it took me forever to get to it. But, here we are! And, if I did this right, buckle up.

Ian took up his staff, Barley took the leash, and both cautiously stepped into the grand doorway into the dungeon. Dad blindly followed along, being led by the leash.

Things were quiet. Too quiet. So quiet you can almost hear the particles shifting within the emotions’ bodies. Fear watched as the walls around Ian and Barley seem to grow closer and closer. The grand archway they walked under led into a tightly cramped, dark corridor. The only thing lighting the way is the torch Barley was holding, and the faint, ominous glow coming from the barred holes lining the base of the walls. The arched gaps seemed to be the only generous thing in the threatening hall made of stone, releasing into the darkness a faint blue aura, as well as the faint sound of stilled water. The emotions glanced around cautiously as the age, decay and debris of the dungeon, Disgust giving a cringe when he spotted a beetle crawling over a skeleton and into the skull’s eye socket.

Distracting his anxieties with something, Fear looked down at his watch, just as Ian looked down at his watch. Less than two hours left.

“The Phoenix Gem is just on the other side,” Barley whispered. “Careful, there could be booby traps.”

Fear shivered. “Booby… traps?”

“This place is over a thousand years old,” Ian whispered back, glancing around the dark, confined corridor. “There’s no way there could be-“

SLAM!!

A loud noise shuttered through the hall as a large blade shot horizontally through the dungeon. It thankfully avoided the brothers, who were on opposite sides following the stone walls, but it knocked the top half of Dad’s disguise clean off, leaving him a pair of legs standing on an activated cobblestone on the floor. The brothers gasped, followed by the emotions.

And with a small puff of air, the torch was snuffed out.

Fear panicked. “What do we do? What do we do? We can’t see!”

“We see that, Fear,” Anger snapped. “The lights are still on in Headquarters.”

“But there’s no light in the catacomb,” Sadness sighed. “How are we gonna get Ian and Barley through?”

Joy’s face lit up as something in the ceiling caught her attention. “Oh look, there’s some light,” she said as she pointed to the green light ominously filtering into the dungeon.

The brothers looked up as the trap door in the ceiling gradually opened, slowly revealing the glowing green being. Ian was unsure of what it was, but his face and the emotions face slowly fell as they caught sight of the fear taking over Barley.

“Oh no,” Barley gasped. “It can’t be…”

The trap door fully opened, releasing the giant green cube. The cube plopped down onto the stone floor, with a gushy thump that caused Disgust to reel back and gag.

“A gelatinous cube!!” Barley shrieked with fright.

“They’re real??” the emotions yelped in unison.

Still frozen in place in both shock and confusion, Ian caught the cube slowly shift towards them. The top half of Dad’s disguise was sucked into the gelatinous square blob, and immediately dissolved into nothingness, with a fierce, hungered fizzle. The emotions stepped back in horror. “It ate Dad!!” four of them exclaimed as Disgust ran off to wretch.

Barley looked up as he heard a groan of stone scraping against stone. Far ahead at the end of the corridor, a stone slab began to slowly close from the ceiling downward. “Run!!” Barley shouted.

“No crap!” Anger shouted.

“Wait!” Fear said, stopping Disgust as he raced back to grab the controls.

“Wait!” Ian stopped Barley by blocking him with his staff. “It’s a puzzle!” Ian explained, looking down at the cobblestone floor, each one with a different, mysterious symbol. “We have to figure it out or-“

Barley interrupted. “No time! Grab a shield!”

“What shield?” Disgust saw Barley pick up an old shield off the floor, plucked from an old skeleton. “Nuh uh, no way!” Disgust protested, about to throw up again.

“We have no choice!” Fear grabbed the controls.

Ian grabbed a shield off the ground, an arm of a skeleton coming along with it. “Ew ew ew ew,” Disgust gagged, pressing some buttons, causing Ian to close his eyes and clench in disgust as he brushed the arm off the handle of the shield.

The brothers held the shields at their sides towards the walls, with their Dad huddled between them. They picked up their dad by the belt and, with one adrenaline filled scream, raced down the corridor. With every step, traps were sprung. Arrows and spears were flying from left to right, right to left, blades came falling from the ceiling, missing the three of them by mere inches. It was pure utter chaos!

“I got ya! I got ya!” Joy exclaimed, helping at the controls as he saw Fear falling apart at the seams. Losing control, Fear stepped back, being replaced by Anger as Fear placed his hands under his arms and gasped for breath.

“That’s the most frightening thing Ian’s ever done,” Fear gasped.

And it wasn’t over yet.

The brothers stopped sharply at a pit, causing Barley to drop his shield and watch it skewer onto the spikes below. Fear watched as Ian looked up, the stone door ahead halfway closed, and closing teasingly slower. The pit between them and the door was too far to jump, but maybe…

Fear ran to the shelves, grabbed an idea bulb, ran back and shoved it into the idea bulb holder on the console.

Ian grabbed his staff and looked towards his brother. “Jump!”

Barley was shocked at such an order. “What?”

“What?” the emotions asked, staring wide eyed at Fear, taking his place at the console.

“Trust me!” Ian told Barley.

With a second guessing glance, Barley took a few steps back, then gave a running jump into the air. He gave a loud shout as he started to fall into the pit.

Acting fast, Ian aimed his staff downward towards Barley. “Aloft elevar!”

Barley felt himself halt in midair, causing him to peek from under his forearms, and see himself floating in midair, enveloped in a magical aura. Barley gave a laugh, realizing Ian just saved his life, and got them a way across the pit!

“Wow,” Disgust gasped.

“Way to go Fear!” Joy cheered.

Anger chuckled as he watched Ian lead his Dad over the pit, using Barley like a bridge. “Heh, nice,” he commented, watching Ian unknowingly place his foot against Barley’s cheek for a second.

Just as he made it over the pit, Ian tripped and fell. Dad flopped onto the floor and, more importantly, Ian lost grip of his staff. Fear shrieked. “We need that!” he exclaimed, as Ian reached for the staff just inches in front of him.

“Ian?” Barley called out, watching as the gelatinous cube was looming over him as it crept inches closer towards the pit.

Ian climbed to his feet as fast as he could, then turned and held the staff upward, pulling Barley out of the pit and out of the impending doom of the gelatinous cube.

The emotions cheered for a brief second, followed by surprised screams as Barley was literally thrown onto Ian, causing the two to be thrown through the doorway. Just as Ian and Barley sat up, they caught sight of the door just less than a foot from the floor. It was too close for the brothers to make it through, but just enough to reach through and grab the leash on the other side.

“No!!” Fear shouted as all the emotions scrambled for one of the levers on the console and pulled back. Ian reached through the gradually closing opening, grabbed the leash and pulled back with all his might, with Barley grabbing the rope of the leash and pulling as well. With their combined efforts, the brothers dragged their Dad through the doorway, mere seconds before it closed with an echoing thud.

The emotions sighed in relief and gradually peeled themselves off the console. Ian and Barley eventually stood and looked around, finding themselves in a small circular room with a tall ceiling. The emotions watched the screen as Ian looked up. “Wow, that’s really tall,” Joy commented aloud.

Fear gave a shriek as he caught sight of Barley gripping Ian by the shoulders before he could step forward. “Woah woah woah, don’t step on that,” Barley warned, motioning towards the cobblestone plate planted in the ground.

“We gotta be more careful,” Fear sighed, reeling back Ian’s leg.

“Hey, you weren’t looking down either,” Anger argued.

Before the emotions could continue, the room echoed with a loud thud, followed by an ominous sound of rushing water. Seconds later, water began to pour in through the thin cracks between the stone floor sand the rocky walls. Just as the waters reached their feet, Ian and Barley knew the waters were beginning to rise, and fast.

“I didn’t touch it!” Ian exclaimed, grasping his staff as Barley grabbed Dad and hoisted the sentient legs onto his shoulders.

“I didn’t touch it!” Fear exclaimed to the others, lost in his panic. “You all saw me not touch it! Did any of you guys touch it?”

“No one touched it, Fear!” Disgust snapped, shutting Fear up.

“Oh no,” Sadness gasped. “The water’s so cold.”

“It’s gonna ruin our hair!” Disgust gasped dramatically.

“That’s your concern?” Anger snapped at the others. “We’re all gonna drown!”

Joy was still distracted by the tall ceiling, finally making out the etching above them. “Oh! I got it! It’s a sun!”

“Huh?” Fear and the other emotions looked at the screen, noticing the engraving. Realizing that the water is taking them upwards, Fear thought aloud. “Maybe that’s the exit!”

“Let me try something!” Joy pressed a few buttons.

Ian tried to focus through the rising cold water as he aimed his staff upwards. “Voltar thundasir.” The staff released a small bolt that just flickered and fizzled mere feet above them.

“Of course that didn’t work,” Anger grumbled.

“I don’t see you coming up with bright ideas,” Disgust argued back.

“Like what?” Anger snapped. “Like that ceiling will open up if we DID step on the booby trap?”

Fear paused and thought a moment, eyeing the engraved sun in the ceiling. Quickly, he pressed a few buttons, and Ian held his breath and ducked his head underwater. The emotions quickly caught a glance of the cobblestone below them, noticing the exact same engraving. “That’s it,” Fear thought aloud.

Anger crossed his arms and said, “Told ya.”

Disgust pouted defensively. “Lucky guess.”

Ian took a deep breath as he returned his head above water. “That tile down there, it has the same shape as the opening!” Ian shouted above the rushing water.

“Maybe we were supposed to step on it.” Barley placed Dad onto Ian’s shoulders. “I got this,” Barley said before taking a deep breath and diving into the water.

The emotions crowded around the console and watched. The chamber was half full, so they knew it was quite a swim to the bottom. “Did he make it? Is it working? Is he okay?” Fear kept asking, begging for an answer.

A loud groan echoed above Ian. He looked up to see the ceiling begin to slowly open, revealing sunlight that poured into the room. “It’s working!” he cheered.

“Phew! Fear sighed.

“Yay!” Joy exclaimed, hugging Sadness. “We’re gonna make it!”

The ceiling immediately slammed shut. The room immediately became dark.

The emotions faces fell. “Wait, what?” Joy asked.

Barely popped his head back out of the water. “It’s impossible!” he gasped. “No one can hold their breath that long.”

Fear and Joy unanimously exchanged glances. “Hold their breath!” Together, they grabbed an idea bulb and placed it in the console.

Ian glanced at Barley, Barley glanced back with the same wild idea. Together, they grabbed their Dad and shoved him down deep into the water.

Fear was already looking through the water like crazy. “Did he make it? Did he make it? Did he make it?”

“He made it!” Joy told Fear, hugging the purple emotion tight while pointing at the screen.

“But he’s not on the tile!” Disgust pointed out before grabbing for the controls.

“Ahh!!” Fear leaped over Sadness and Anger as he grabbed the controls as well.

Ian took the leash and pulled left, trying to lead Dad towards the plate. Moving blindly, the legs overstepped and nearly hit the wall.

“Too far! Right!” Anger snapped, grabbing a dial on the console.

Ian pulled right, making Dad overstep the tile again.

“Good effort,” Joy encouraged, seeing the frustration in the room. “We can do this.”

“Guys, the ceiling!” Sadness called out, pointing to the screen just as Ian’s head bumped against the stone ceiling.

“No no no no no!” Fear slammed his hand on a button.

Ian and Barley both took a deep breath and dove underwater just as the last remaining space of air was filled with water.

“Ian can’t hold his breath for long!” Fear said as he took the controls, making Ian pull the leash another direction. “Someone watch his vitals!”

Sadness looked down at the vitals on the console. “He’s losing oxygen fast,” Sadness cried. “He’s not gonna make it!”

“Wait!” Joy watched with baited breath as it looked like Dad was stumbling close enough to the stone plate, but missed by a mere inch. As the emotions sighed in frustration, Joy’s face lit up with hope. “He’s standing right over it! Pull up! Pull up!”

Ian and Barley both pulled the leash upward with all their might. Dad was pulled straight upward before floating straight down in a standing position right on the stone tile.

“We did it!” Joy cheered.

Sadness gasped. “Oh no! Ian’s lost his breath!”

“We’re gonna drown!” Fear shrieked.

Before panic could break out, the emotions saw onscreen as Ian was suddenly above water, gasping for breath as one hand clung to the edge on the basin on the other side of the open door.

While relieved, Fear was still dumbfounded. “Wha- what happened?”

Sadness looked down at the vitals stabilizing as he was putting the pieces together. “I think Barley pulled us out of the water.”

Joy grinned at Barley onscreen before grinning at Fear. “He’s such a nice guy.”

Ian and Barley climbed out of the water and sat on the edge of the basin. As Barley fished Dad out by the leash, the brothers could do nothing else but look at each other, their gasping breaths turning into laughs of relief, realizing that their trial is over. The emotions each shared a laugh, realizing that they survived, and they got Ian through all of that trouble. The Manticore, the pixies, the bridge, the dungeon. And they made it. With little time to spare, but they made it.

Barley picked Dad out of the water and hoisted him onto his shoulders. “The Phoenix Gem is just beyond this door,” Barley said triumphantly, motioning his hand proudly towards a ladder in the wall. The ladder led upwards towards the exit above, blocked by a metal plate with holes filtering sunlight through. “Shall we?”

Joy stepped in at the console. “I got this!” she said playfully.

Ian led the way, climbing up the ladder. “We certainly shall!” Ian exclaimed, his boasting voice echoing through the small space. “Dad, we have followed the quest, and it has led us to our victory!”

The emotions shared a laugh, with Fear patting Joy’s shoulder. “Nice one, Joy,” he smiled, with Joy smiling back.”

Ian reached up, moved the metal plate aside, and felt the warm sunlight pour onto his cold, wet face. He proudly climbed up through the hole to find himself facing…

… New Mushroomton High School.

Ian’s face fell.

The emotions paused and stared blankly at the screen. They had no clue what was going on. Looking for answers, Fear took control, allowing Ian climb out of the hole to look around at his surroundings. The more Ian looked, the more it began to sink in. The school. The BMV. The construction site surrounding the old weathered fountain. The water tower. The apparent sewer the two just climbed out of. This isn’t some shrine or trove containing the Phoenix Gem. This is right back where they started.

Barley finally pulled Ian away from an oncoming bus and onto the sidewalk. The jostle was enough to break Ian out of his confused trance. “We’re back… home,” he said in disbelief.

“No… no no no no, this isn’t right, this isn’t right,” Fear whimpered, stepping back and placing his hands under his arms.

“This can’t be right,” Barley thought aloud. “We took the path of peril. We followed the ravens, we followed the water… unless we were meant to stay away from the water.” Barley pulled the clover shaped stone from the raven statue out of his back pocket and observed the markings.

Anger grumbled as he threw his hands up in the air. “I knew it. I knew this was pointless.”

Disgust rolled his eyes. “Complete waste of time.”

Joy was still in a confused daze. “No… no, it couldn’t be.”

“Don’t worry,” Barley said, “we can figure this out.”

“Figure out what?” Ian asked. “We’re back where we started.”

“No, there was a gauntlet,” Barley began to argue. “Unless that gauntlet was for, coincidentally, some different quest.” Barley paused. “Actually that’s a possibility.”

“What?” Fear exclaimed as Sadness began to tear up and cry.

“No no, this has to be where the Phoenix Gem is,” Barley continued, his voice growing ever quieter as he thought to himself, “I followed my gut.”

Anger slowly turned at the screen. “What did he say?” he snarled.

Fear heard that growl. “Oh no… no, I-I got this.” Fear began to press buttons on the console.

“Oh no,” Ian said, reality hitting him like a ton of bricks. “The gem is in the mountain, which we could have been at hours ago, if we stayed on the expressway.”

“No, the expressway is too obvious,” Barley argued. “You can’t take the easiest path.”

“That’s it!” Anger shouted, storming up to the console. “Let me at him!”

Fear immediately grabbed Anger and pulled him away. “No! No no no!”

Joy intervened, helping Fear keep Anger away from the console. “Fear’s right! Let’s not have Ian say something he’ll regret.”

“I hate to admit it,” Disgust commented, Sadness right beside him, “but Joy’s right. It’s not Barley’s fault.”

“Then who’s is it?” Anger snapped, still in Fear’s arms.

“I don’t know!” Disgust snapped back.

“Who cares who’s fault it is?” Fear shrieked. “We have half a dad to-!”

“If I didn’t listen to you! Okay?!” Ian shouted.

The emotions froze. Fear looked at the console… the unmanned console. Confused and shocked, he silently looked at Disgust, Sadness, Joy, even Anger, still in his arms. Fear let go, Anger looked back and held up his arms, showing he didn’t do anything.

A glint of light finally caught Fear’s attention. He turned a complete one eighty and faced the Islands of Personality.

Family Island was alive and active.

Fear raced towards the window, the emotions following. They all looked at each other in shock, not understanding at all why Family Island would be active at a time like this.

“I can’t believe this,” Ian continued, stepping closer towards the shocked Barley, the emotions watching in stunned silence. “You act like you know what you’re doing, but you don’t have a clue, and… and that’s because you ARE a screw up! And you just screwed up my chance to have the ONE thing I never had!”

Barley winced, clearly hit hard by those words. But Ian, Ian didn’t care. He just grabbed Dad by the leash and began to storm off.

“Hey, where are you going?” Barley asked.

Ian stopped, turned, and shoved the wizard staff into Barley’s chest. “To spend what little time we have left with Dad,” he said firmly before turning his back to Barley and continuing to storm off. Barley called out to Ian, but his words were ignored by Ian’s elf ears. Ian continued to storm off, clearly furious, clearly heartbroken.

Barley’s inaudible words finally snapped Fear out of it. He shook his head, realizing that Ian was walking away. “Wait, where are you going? Turn back!” he shouted. He began to race to the console, when a loud sound behind Fear made him freeze in his tracks.

Fear turned, and watched with the other emotions as Family Island shuttered… and the Barley part of the statue on Family Island crumbled away, the pieces falling into the Memory Dump beneath it.

“… no…. no, no no no no no…” Fear finally spoke in disbelief, his hands on the window glass. “This can’t be happening! What’s happening?” He turned to the other emotions, just as lost as he is. “What’s happening??”

The emotions were lost for the moment, before Joy finally spoke up. “The core memory… maybe it’s the core memory.” Joy immediately turned and ran for the core memory holder, the others following.

Fear chased after them. “No! The core memories are to remain in the core memory holder where they’re safe-!”

Anger turned and punched Fear in the gut, causing him to flop onto his back and grab his sides with a pained gasp. He then turned and met up with the others at the core memories.

Joy pressed the button to make the core memory holder to rise up out of the floor. After a quick search, she plucked out the core memory powering Family Island with a, “There!”

Disgust looked at the core memory as Joy examined it in his hands. The orb was bright and shining yellow, with a memory of Laurel at the dinner table with young Ian and young Barley, both laughing as they were baking cookies.“It’s still yellow,” he thought aloud. “That means Ian should be happy about his family.”

“But then why wasn’t he happy?” Joy brushed his hand over the bright yellow orb, and the orb dimmed.

The emotions were quiet. They watched as Joy tried it again. He brushed his hand one way, and the memory dimmed further. He brushed it another way, and the memory grew brighter than ever. Joy moved his hand on the orb further until the memory changed, to a memory of Laurel helping young Ian with his homework. Then, Joy changed the memory again, to a memory of young Barley helping young Ian learn to walk.

And the light dimmed so lowly that the orb was faded.

The core memory was faded.

Ian’s core memory of Barley was faded.

Joy was in disbelief. “This… this can’t be right.”

“Can you fix it, Joy?” Sadness asked.

Joy replied, “I dunno…”

Fear finally climbed up to his feet, one hand still clinging to the side of his sore torso. He looked through his narrow eyes to see Joy kneeled in front of an open memory holder, holding a core memory. “No!!” Fear ran to the group, but he couldn’t get passed the other emotions crowding Joy, wondering what’s wrong.

“Why is it faded?” Disgust asked. “Core memories can’t fade, can they?”

“This is so sad,” Sadness sobbed. “Ian’s forgetting Barley.”

“I knew it! I knew this would happen!” Anger shouted. “I knew we should check on the core memories!”

Fear couldn’t hear the emotions, he couldn’t even see that the core memory was faded. All he could see was Joy holding a core memory. Even playing with it! “Joy, put it back!”

Joy was still busy trying to fix the core memory. “Maybe if I… no…”

Fear kept trying to push through, calling out to Joy, but to no avail. “Joy, please!”

Finding a gap, Fear finally squeezed in and reached for Joy’s arm, only for Joy to pull away as he tried rubbing his forearm against it. What is he doing? “Joy, you’re…!”

“There’s gotta be some way to fix this,” Joy thought to himself, gently shaking the core memory.

In complete shock, Fear exclaimed, “You’re hurting my Ian!!”

Joy froze. Then turned to Fear. “YOUR Ian?”

Fear was wide eyed, frozen solid. What did he just say? Did he just say that? Out loud?

Joy’s confused face fell into a disappointing frown. He turned away from Fear, shoved the core memory back into the holder and walked away. “We’ll deal with it later, guys. Let’s go help Ian.” The other emotions followed, Anger leaving Fear with a judgmental glare before storming off.

Fear was left alone. No one to help him. No one to comfort him. All he could feel was the realization that everything was falling apart. And once everything was stripped away, he realized the damage he had done.

Ian lost the chance to see his Dad. Ian had left Barley behind. Ian’s Family Island was broken. Ian’s core memory of Barley was faded.

And now, Fear has lost the respect of his emotions. Even Joy.

Feeling helpless, hopeless, Fear just let his body collapse and fell onto his knees.

#pixar inside out #pixar onward #inside onward #sir iandore of lightfoot #ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot #joy #sadness #anger #disgust #fear

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a-lil-perspective · 4 years ago

Text

Hunter x Reader

A/N: What nobody asked for. I didn’t think a title would be appropriate for this particular piece of work. It really doesn’t coincide with any Star Wars themes, save for everybody’s favorite Sergeant making his debut within. It’s more of a Lil perspective. (Lol I’m sorry my last two brain cells have no sense of humor) For context: I have been absolutely suffocating lately, in every sense of the word. It’s almost indescribably oppressive, so I wrote this in desperately seeking comfort and therapy. Just a fragmented depiction, addresses underlying mental health issues and sensory disorders—in carrying my own subtle semblance of it, I love exploring those complexities with Hunter. It turns out soft. I think. Also, if you squint hard enough, you will see some song lyrics scattered throughout the fic in the form of thoughts. I wrote this in the format of Reader, though it’s practically a self-insert, I’m just not brave enough for those particular pronouns. :) Sorry in advance if this doesn’t apply to you...

▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️

Isn’t anyone trying to find me... Won’t somebody come take me home...

The silence was prodding. Hunter’s gaze darted to your tense form numerous times over the span of several painfully long, anticipating minutes. Each time, your lips remained pulled into a tight line while your extremities fidgeted in repetition. Agitation hung thick in the air. A terse statement of Y/N’s mystics echoed off the walls, to no-one in particular.

“I think... I’ve been gone for a long time.”

Hunter’s eyes incredulously searched you. “What do you mean?”

You see me standing, but I’m dying on the floor...

Your fists reflexively clench in grabbing at any semblance of weight to prevent your form from being dragged down into the mental abyss. You could feel it’s foreboding pull. It’s impending chaos.

It’s coming.

“Talk to me, Y/N...”

Your grip slackens, and you slip right over the edge. Hunter is too late to grab you.

I only want to die alive...

Your broken, unbridled guttural cries in response to the months of overwhelming emotional suppression caused Hunter to wince, and his own sensory receptors gain enough momentum to inwardly complain. He instinctively stuffs it down before kicking into action.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m here—”

Electric. The touch. His touch. It pricked, and the very fine hairs adorning the skin along your arms instantly retaliated to the calloused padding of Hunter’s fingertips caressing. It exacerbated your state of distress and just like that, your neurons overloaded. Sharp, stale air seeped in between your grit teeth and inhalation of insecurity.

Your sudden intake of breath and harsh flinch caused Hunter to cease in brushing up and down the outer region of your upper arms. His eyes narrowed slightly and quickly picked apart your stance. It greeted him like an old adversary with the remnants of a longstanding history, and a discomfiture swirled around Hunter at it’s painful familiarity.

“I can’t do this...” You breathe out despair.

The existing in general? The physical connection itself?

The latter wasn’t your fault. But it sure as hell felt like it. It certainly wasn’t his fault. Thankfully, somehow, the glint in Hunter’s shifting irises reassured you that he was privy to your suffering, to some degree; he knew. He understood.

Of course he did.

For who to better understand heightened tactile sensitivity than Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99? He was neither confounded nor dissuaded by your particularity in the slightest.

It had always been an inherence of yours; a rather obnoxious caricature within the conundrum, some obscure accessory buried in your already heavily packed bags. An extra ingredient that completely screwed up the recipe. Constituted as awkward, plain and simple; the dramatized detail never became easier to address with age, and the thick lump of disdain in your throat only grew.

You set your jaw in frustration. How to even begin picking up and putting together the pieces of a person who’s constantly missing one, or several. You were never satiated, equanimity never extended it’s stay for long; simply just renting. There was always something, someone, leaving a smoking hole in your chest, forcing every euphoric guest out.

I seek to cure what’s deep inside... frightened of this thing that I’ve become...

Your features twisted in agony and discomfort that accompanied the stoked episodes. It made you bitter. It threw you to the streets and dubbed you a martyr before satirically exposing, taunting at the misfortune of your dealt deck of cards. It was downright embarrassing, obtruding. Trepidations instantaneously trampled your meager, sensory overloaded form each and every time. Your bitter, corrosive laugh was all the evidence in that moment; a feeble reminder of your hypocrisy.

Because how, pray tell, does one’s physicality simultaneously experience both a revulsion for tactility and desperate craving for touch itself? You never understood exactly the way the two collided and contradicted themselves. Your teeth clamped your tongue in quelling the deprivation and plea for more rising in your throat, while your neurons worked to whisk your form as far away from the man as possible—away to the repetition of obsolete emptiness and desolation awaiting to greet you. As always.

“Let me help, cyare.” Begging... the man was hurting for you.

Don’t want to say yes, don’t want to say no...

Your mind ached. You can’t stop the pendulum in your head. Forced to look through a kaleidoscope of melancholy. Pleas echoed in a cavernous empty shell, but fell on deaf ears. Tears cancelled their appointment, and the well currently ran dry. There was... nothingness. And you fought the growing complaisance with the notion. Numbness was terrifying, and being terrified was numbing. You didn’t do well with attitudinal changes, seeking restitution more than ever while you wholly acknowledged the aspect of a ginger touch; the literal power within one’s fingertips to effectively mitigate your suffering. An opportune moment standing before you, his brows furrowed in sympathy and the corner of his lips angled in assuring you of his patience.

But the sharp pang and quick successions of staccato rhythm reverberated deep in your chest and only exaggerated your pain. Curse your heavy heart. A huff of breath incited subtle movement in the loose strands hanging over your profile, to which Hunter borrowed a moment in reaching out to sweep the curtain back.

Your head was under water, yet... you were breathing just fine. You just had yet to find the damned drain to expel the pernicious and suffocating sea of psychological terror into.

I just need to clear my head... don’t let it go to your head...

You quiver under Hunter’s intense appraisal, and shame swirls thickly. “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be. Please.” He immediately interjects, his palm turns upright and opens invitingly. “I’m here. Tell me what you need.”

Just tell him what you need.

“I... I don’t know.” Your admission speaks in a whisper of loss and uncertainty. You roll the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth, the lump returns to your throat, and it’s crawling. Your gaze flickers.

“Just focus on me, cyare.”

Another catch: you can’t maintain eye contact to save your life. Kriff your soul. “That won’t work.” Your eyes anchor to the cold floor as sheer panic and the sturdy walls themself began to rise around your trembling self.

I can’t come alive... I want the room to take me under... Feel myself fading away...

“Okay—it’s okay,” he soothes. Hunter fervently wracks his brain—the way he decompresses and approaches his own form of stimming is slightly different; it’s different for everybody with a hyperactive response to stimuli. It took the Sergeant years to cultivate those particular penchants and even longer to tailor and perfect them to his predilection. If anything, he felt slightly apprehensive in the success of his methods.

Your hands that now wrap tightly around your rigid form are currently the only familiar pair of hands granted permission to access the area. You give a brief squeeze and teeter on the balls of your feet.

Hunter didn’t require a sniper’s nonpareil eyesight to see right through your peculiarity, even if he was briefly taken aback at it’s sudden effervescing. Truthfully, he should’ve picked up on it days ago: at your fierce denial and subtle panic over Hunter’s harmless offer of a massage after you had worked out a particularly stubborn knot kinking his lower back—a simple requite of mutuality, or so he thought. At the time, the Sergeant found himself shrouded in enigma over your reaction; seriously, who—other than him who barely tolerates it—doesn’t enjoy massages? It now made perfect sense. He fought the urge to self-deprecate over his ignorance.

“I’m suffocating, Hunter.” You choke, and the cadence of your voice is like a knife twisting into his heart; he gleans vicarious pain from your own.

Clarity suddenly lights up the Sergeant’s features, and you’re briefly hyper-fixated with the way the inky but slightly faded outline of his shadowy tattoo fluctuates in natural contortion with his many facial expressions. Just behind his eyes he beholds his brothers—

‘I’m suffocating, ori’vod’...

Hunter remembers...

Of the exact way he presses against Tech in order to smother his vod’ika’s fleeting bouts of anxiousness—the pressure nearly breaking the kid’s goggles on more than one occasion, and the way he compresses Crosshair’s shoulders in squeezing out the pent up anger to placate amidst the sniper’s wavering, and the position of which Hunter managed to encompass his brawny brother in a comforting embrace whenever the big guy experienced despondency—that is until Wrecker quickly outgrew his ori’vod and began flaunting his own prowess of overpowering hugs.

The difference between the scenarios was minimal. Hunter knew exactly what to do. Like second-nature to him, his nurturing instincts fully kicked in and determination spread through every fiber of his being, quashing the previous buzz of his own nerves.

Hunter didn’t know how well he could alleviate your emotional pain, but there was something he could do for the neurological aspect, and hopefully, one could ease the other...

Hunter ambles up to you and in one swift motion, secures the length of his arms around your upper back, noting the delineate contour of toned muscles and shoulder blades poking into his forearms that now drape across before his hands encircle and come to firmly rest on each shoulder. Firmness. Pressure—for your state, this depiction is key. He determinedly pulls you to him, unrelenting in a tight grip. The position of the crown of your head settled neatly under his chin, and stray hair peppered his textured features with tickling kisses as Hunter dips his head to softly press his lips to your roots.

I wish that I could bring you back to me...

With your face suddenly buried in the man’s chest, you come to distinctly acknowledge two immediate sensations. One; the man is warm. Not the muggy, stuffy warmth of Tatooine that is unpleasantly abrasive and dry; but a soft warmth that permeates, stoking memories of baked goods within the cushion of a heated oven warmly enveloping you each time it’s doors open, and seeking to melt the hardened encasing that is your tense muscles. It eases you towards a serenity. You have a ways to go before you can make out the sign in the distance, but Hunter himself is one step forward along the path.

Two; he smells amazing. A faint smoky sultry, an obscurely mesquite scent, slightly tangy and reminiscent of raw timber that is both luxurious and intoxicating; a sweet smell you’d classify as anything but cloying. Like he bathes with suds of fresh mountain air and luscious forests. It’s soothing, and your mind immediately associates the tangibility with a daydream and mercifully blesses you with the glimpse; of your husband having just entered your cozy homestead from a day of hard but fruitful labor in his intricate works of carpentry within the serene seclusion of temperate countryside enveloping your favorite planet—

Handle with care... say you’ll be there...

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, cyare—is this okay?” Hunter momentarily shifts and the rich baritone of the Sergeant’s voice resounding through his broad chest reels you back while he briefly tenses at your pending answer.

It was okay—your head was still swimming in an infinitely deep ocean of thoughts, but the way his hand slips from it’s position on your shoulder to cradle the back of your head before curling around the soft locks equates to the physical manifestation of a life preserver cast to your drowning form.

Your muffled confirmation and sheepish thanks warmly enveloped Hunter, as did your hands shifting to wrap around his broad frame in reciprocation. His grip tightened, and he patiently waits for you.

Hold.... Hold on... Hold on to me, ‘cause I’m a little unsteady...

Hunter refrains from trailing to stroke further along your back; the sneaking suspicion that the sensation might further tip off your nerves. So he remained stationary, and deciphered the way you seemingly favored a firm, weighted grasp and a grounding touch over ghosting fingertips and light, feathery textures. He could relate to that.

But Hunter couldn’t stop the hum of contentment that escaped his lips at your fingers having absentmindedly wandered up to twirl at his ebony tresses. He, personally, loved your soft, well-placed strokes full of deliberation and meaning, and only you were allowed to grace him with them.

Hunter could feel your heart hammering against the veil of his blacks, and his ears hearkened to the rhythm of your burdened breaths. He shifted his weight and began to gently sway with you, unsure of the words to say.

“I should’ve told you earlier,” your conscience suddenly prods.

A snort fills the air. “Oh, I would’ve figured it out soon enough. I’m kinda smart like that,” Hunter cringes at his corny sense of humor, but he swore the faintest of chortles rumbled beneath him.

He grants a final squeeze to your shoulders, careful to avoid the sensitive areas along your arms, before pulling back to address your face. Trouble and distress still graced you, and Hunter laced his fingers with your own. He thumbed at the worn flesh encasing your defined knuckles, a relic indicative of steadfast manual labor. You slowly exhaled at the touch; pressure along the palms and backside of your hands was soothing to you. You often wrung them to keep preoccupied when there was no warmth to solidify the muscle, fingertips drummed erratic tempos along your thighs whenever the mood struck, and loud cracking of the stiff joints in transient tics was a regularly becoming thing.

Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new...

Hunter tugged lightly in ushering you to the cot, firmly planting himself on the worn, creaking edge before his gaze met yours in awaiting approval. If he blinked, he would’ve missed the barely perceptible nod of your head in confirmation. Hunter leaned back on his full weight in gesturing you with him, and your form followed suit as you found yourself abruptly layered directly atop the rugged plains of his chest. The quirk of his lips told you he didn’t mind being used as a body pillow. Hunter’s arms suddenly turned up empty to rest above his head.

“I want you to be comfortable. No brushing. Just tell me where to put my hands.” He clarified, and appreciation bubbled in your chest. You contemplated for a moment.

“Just... hold me close.” You began to guide his hands to the exact position. “Please.”

His limbs obeyed by wrapping snugly as a hand found rest at the small of your back, and the other nestled itself slightly higher up the expanse, fingers splayed. Hunter solidified the closed space, and not even a muted ray of light could pass between the two forms.

You found solace within the cage of well-endowed muscle, slowly suppressing your nerves on each side and physically shielding you from the works of mental oppression. But his touch left you hyperaware; from an overtly suffocating insecurity towards every part of your body now lingering against his own, to the precise and tranquil thrum of his heartbeat in contrast with your racing one. Your stimuli sparks again in response to the stress.

“Y/N.” Hunter cuts through your tension, his voice laced with concern—you cannot calm yourself down, and you’re certain your mind absolutely loathes you. “Everything will be alright, I promise—don’t tense up, baby. Relax against me.” You angle your head so that one side of your face plants to his chest; you wish to better hear his sturdy heartbeat. You suddenly remember your own. It’s still beating. Resounding; indicative of purpose. Your breaths; symbolizing life.

Just keep breathing... my air...

“That’s it. Just breathe.” Hunter encourages. He reaches up to press against your temple in stroking at the hairline. Unbound locks cascaded around each other, a mixture of two colors softly tangled on either sides of the furniture. You lost count of your numbered breaths in the midst of solitude when a question unveils from your thoughts.

“How do you do it?” Your words trump the stagnant silence, a desperate inquiry that peaks through the fibers. You tilt your chin to better regard the man.

Confusion tugs at the corner of Hunter’s lips. “Do, what?”

“Anything...” you unload, and there’s a crackle to your voice. “The stress, the sensory... how do you manage? What’s your anchor in this wretched, kriffing life?”

A smile creeps up Hunter’s features, and his deep, reflective pools burn through you. “I’m looking at my anchor. And she helps me manage just fine.”

Your eyes blow protuberant and you manage to stare at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Honey, you are it.” His satisfied smirk grows wider, digging into his cheeks.

Something twitches at the corners of your lip and pulls into an upward curve; the feeling is tight, foreign. Your cheek muscles are unsure of how to compensate for the expression. You can’t remember the last time a smile has naturally graced your features. Now, it’s genuine. It’s... nice, and the hot rivulets currently streaming down your face are in a unanimous agreement.

Hunter moves to cup your face and thumb below your eyes, and his lips kiss the salt away. You grab hold of his forearms and shut your eyes.

“You want to know how I manage?” He croons in determination, “When my visual is overstimulated, I close my eyes and focus on the features of your face ingrained in my memory. When certain auditory has me weak at the knees, I remember the lull of your voice, comforting. When my nerves are on fire and I want nothing more than to be physically desensitized, it’s your soft touch that acts as a blanket, covering, making it easier for me. You make it better. Me better. Life better.” Hunter finishes his declaration in lovingly swiping at your face once more, expunging your pain. Words make a prompt exit along with it.

Your lips find purchase at the stubble along his jaw, in response. You love being able to fully make out the intricacy of his irises, now that you’re lovingly gazing into them. When you exit your captivated trance—his eyes are beautiful—you vaguely note with a twinge of pride that the encounter was indefinitely your longest standing record for maintaining eye contact. Another gentle smile fills your features. You remove your weight from him.

“Take this off?” You shyly tug at the collar of his blacks, seeking his consent, respectful of his own sensory receptors and their boundaries.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Hunter sits to quickly shed the upper article of clothing. He pulls you on top once again, and you are relishing in his bare skin. Your fingers map out a path of their own volition along the various textures and scars dotting the pectoral flesh.

“You never told me what you were thinking about earlier,” Hunter nonchalantly called you out. Your brows furrow in confusion. “There was something different on your face when I first held you. Just a flicker. But you looked... happy. Content, even.” Hunter smirked. “Hope you’re not planning to keep all that happiness to yourself.”

You certainly weren’t planning to. You recalled the picturesque and beckoned it forth... there was your sign of serenity. Just the shape of it, but solid, and clear. Hopeful, and promising, just on the horizon. It made your chest flutter, and ebbed away at the heartache. You realized Hunter’s brow arched in anticipation.

“How would you feel about working in carpentry?” A chuckle. Hunter was thoroughly humored, and surprisal was briefly evident on his features.

“So I can build you and I a house? To fill a bunch of babies with? Gladly.” He chased the daydream alongside you, and it was your turn to borrow the surprise; your mouth hung agape as heat crept through the apples of your cheeks. Hunter’s laugh boomed as a hand fit under your chin to close your parted lips. He wished to use his own to do the trick, but, another time.

“I’m with you.”

#The Bad Batch #Hunter #Hunter X Self #I don’t know what to tag this as.#I just want to be comforted by Hunter #oop I may be sobbing now #but it... feels better #it’s a Lil thing

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onlyhorn · 4 years ago

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“ Shut up. I told you not to talk to me around everyone else. “ He’s left the group, muttering to the black crystal that hung around his neck— his connection to the Witch of Greed, Echidna. That dopey smile had left his face, dropping into an expressionless stare. Nobody else saw, of course. But this wasn’t an ideal situation, so Subaru would have to ask Elsa to kill him again when he saw her next. “ What is it now? You’ve been more of a chatterbox than usual today. "

@shinza

It was like an insistent stabbing in the back of his mind. Every time Subaru breathed, it hurt. It reminded him of all the fumes he inhaled throughout his multiple resets. It reminded him of the times where his sternum was crushed by things more than triple his size. It reminded him of all the times he was cleaved in half, broken and shattered, turned into literal nothingness-- perhaps what he really was, in the wake of all of this. He was nothing. Nothing. He could accomplish nothing.

And that’s why he asked her to help him do what he can’t do himself. And she did. She did help him - she guided him towards what she believed, and what he believed, was the best possible ending for him He had saved everyone he wanted, he got exactly what he wanted... but in exchange for that, she had to get what she wanted too.

And every waking moment of his life, thereon, was just a matter of educated guessing. A guess about whether or not performing one action even slightly differently would alter fate in his favor. Echidna knew all the right answers, after all. She has eyes in more places than one, but with Subaru, it was almost like she was watching the equivalent of a home video play out before her. Watching as he dies, over and over and over and over and never once growing bored of it - this was like paradise to her. She gets to learn so much about the world, especially when she lightly suggests the wrong alternative which would inevitably cause his world to reset once more. Each and every time this has happened, she felt herself grow even more and more enticed with his twisted, horrible world.

And to his dismay, he would have to listen to her beckons, hear her out on every little detail and suggestion, for despite leading him constantly into impending doom, there are times where her suggestions give progress -- very, very small flickers of hope that only lasted all but a few seconds before they were snuffed out by the darkness that now enshrouds his heart and his mind.

“ Could you truly blame a fair maiden like me for being curious, Subaru-kun? “ Her voice teases, playfully berating him in the back of his mind. Despite the fact that she was very much not alive -- it really felt like she was tugging on some sort of invisible leash bound to his neck. “ One of those folks back there -- the large male with the brown hair... I do believe he may be connected to something. But to find out for sure, however, you’ll have to convince him to speak to you alone. “

“ From there, you will ask him ‘where do the other horns lie?’ That is all you need to do. The rest will explain itself, and I’ll speak to you again when we see results~. “

She already knew what would happen. If her hunch was correct, Subaru would die. He would inevitably die. Quite painfully, even. If lucky, he’ll twist his body in a way that makes him die quicker. But it’s not like pain was a detriment to him anymore. He’d grown quite used to it by now.

Of course -- this was just another unnecessary death to add to the hundreds of thousands she’d cause upon him before. After all, she already knew all the answers. She just wanted to see what would happen if he were to piss off this particular group of people.

“ Perhaps if you are feeling unsafe, bring Ram with you. “ She’d die too, of course. “ It may help you feel more secure and level-headed. “

“ We’ll be speaking again soon, Subaru-kuuun~. “

She can’t wait to see the results. It never gets old.

#shinza #[🎕] Life finds a way to get better. | IC.#[🦋] The Witch of Greed. | MUSE : ECHIDNA.#( i love echidna )#( i say as i remember she is the worst person )#[🎕] Politely-answered messages. | ASKS.

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allthestarsandi · 4 years ago

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4, 10, and 17 for the asks :)

okay buckle up cause i went on a total rant here:

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Varian’s first meeting with Death: this was so exciting to write, especially right after his supposed death (though we know that is not the case). It’s the final moment before disaster strikes and even though we don’t know anything about Death yet or his motivations, there’s just this sense of impending doom.

In a place far away, where there was no light nor darkness, no sound nor silence—a vast space of everything and nothingness all at once—a figure emerged, wispy cloak billowing despite there being no breeze.

There were no eyes, but his gaze bore down upon the small collapsed form all the same. A shadow of a grin—something malignant, something sinister—marred the translucent skin stretched across crumbling bone. His skeletal fingers unfurled to stroke the boy’s pale cheek before rising upwards, curiously fondling a streak of blue amongst the black locks of hair.

Blue eyes lifted to find his face. Death observed him calmly.

“You’re early, my child.” His voice was thin and chilling. “But I am pleased to have found you at last.”

(And also just all of Varian’s scenes with Death really—esp. Chapter 4)

Also the moment as Rapunzel is about to talk to Varian after his wish to have not been saved. This was vital to the story: the sending of a message that these feelings of inner despair and hatred and confusion—there is no fault in feeling them and there is no changing them to make others feel better. These feelings are real. They are valid. And it is up to those around you to develop an understanding of them and to learn to adapt and help one heal.

She had no doubt that every one of them longed to speak their love to him and wrap him tight in their embraces of warmth and consolation. They needed to hear that he did not mean his words. Oh, how they so needed it.

But, right now, this was not about what they needed. It was about Varian. It was about what he needed.

If he needed space, they would give it to him. If he needed comfort, they would damn well give it to him.

But if he truly meant what he had said, then he, too, would need their support. They would have to accept that. There would be no convincing him he was wrong to feel such a thing. It would only end in disaster.

No—if he meant his words, then there would be no changing him. For, in the end, it meant only that they were to blame. They would have to learn to understand it. They would have to show him that, even if he felt that way, he no longer had to.

This was not on him at all. This was not his fault. He did not have to change or hide how he felt to make them feel better. They had to change themselves—make themselves better so he didn't have to feel this pain anymore.

They would give him a reason to stay.

But first—Rapunzel had to speak to him, alone.

She had to show him that there was hope for light in his darkness. For she had been there, in a way. She had to show him that he could heal before they doctored his wounds.

Finally (lol I’m so sorry xD ) but basically all of chapter 14 as I might’ve mentioned another time because of how important the scenes and messages were. Varian finally standing up to his demons and learning to find love for himself and for life. It was a crucial moment of reparation and learning to fight on in the face of adversity.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Overall, I typically start out with a crude plot idea of what I am hoping to explore. I will bullet point the major events to take place and try to section those off into chapters (for example, the sequel is set for 14 chapters rn to cover the major events). From there, I then create more detailed bullet-point plot lists of each individual chapter where I hash out everything I hope to make happen in a chapter. Sometimes this includes specific dialogue or events or feelings. Then I fill in the tinier details from there. Edit, rework, delete, substitute, add, etc etc.

Sometimes, as we’ve seen in steady beats, chapters get pushed around if I find myself really exploring a certain scene and need to break up the next scene into a new chapter. This could depend on whether the ending of one scene feels more powerful than if I were to continue or if I feel the following scene would be made less important when included with other stuff.

It’s all quite a process that can get a little hectic, but I try to keep it pretty organized. It’s definitely easier for me to write with a plan than to wing it. I even have been doing this for the new one-shot series :)

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

that’s….a tough question haha! As far as Steady Beats goes, I feel as though the readers have been reading it the same way I have — in that they are picking up the message I’ve been hoping to convey. As far as the little details and twists I am planning to throw in there as we continue, I don’t know whether everyone has/will pick(ed) up on them.

I don’t know how surprising it is, but I am very body-focused in my writing, meaning that in any scene I put a lot of emphasis on the actual physical and symbolic reactions of the body: the heart, the blood, the bones, the mind. I really like creating these connections between the physical and emotional and mental. I’m sure my readers know that just based on how much I do that so…not a big surprise. It’s just..maybe based on a desire to explore the body and emotions and connections to trauma due to my interest and academic pursuit with such interests?

sorry for the novel of a response lol

#thanks for the ask!#stars says stuff

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canonconspiracy · 5 years ago

Text

Oblivious (Klaus x Reader)

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Author: @rmorningstar21

Pairing: Klaus Hargreaves x Reader

Warnings: Angsty, Swearing, Heavy Drinking

Cross Posted on Wattpad (@rmorningstar21)

AN: The time frame on this is kind of screwy, but honestly the series generally gives you 8 days to save the world, and not a great deal of time that Klaus is actually sobering up during that time, so it's a little rushed. Angsty with some fluff at the end. Also, my phone is not allowing the "Read More" option, so I do apologize for that.

__________

From the outside looking in, it appeared that you did not want Klaus sober. This was not something you audibly spoke to anyone, nor did you believe it to be so. For that matter, you did want Klaus to be sober and clean. It killed you to see him the way that he was, as the wreck he had become due to him trying to cover his past by numbing himself.

No one understood the thought process going through you as you sipped back alcohol as if it were merely water. No one understood what you needed to numb from, nor why you were numbing yourself as Klaus had fixed himself. Klaus was improving, and you had deteriorated into the nothing that he had just recently saved himself from.

You needed to be numb, you had told yourself, though. When you experienced extreme sadness, it triggered your powers in a negative fashion. If you were just numb, you thought that would allow you to function. Each time you thought about why you needed to drink, you took another sip.

You constantly thought about it, until no thoughts logically crossed through your own mind. In fact, you knew it was unhealthy, and you would be drinking yourself into a premature grave. It was not an addiction to you, though - it was a necessity.

Klaus becoming sober would not effect you this way if it were not for one specific factor. You grew up with Klaus as if the two of you started off in boarding school. Not biologically related, everyone knew there was a chance for the siblings to develop feelings for one another. Luther and Allison had, though nothing had come of it as she moved away with time. Nothing had become for you, either, though those feelings had remained.

You had stuck around Klaus when he had moved out of the main home, and had watched each horrible decision he had made. Part of you, of course, wished that you could have stopped him. That part of you wished in the beginning you could have done something, anything, and yet you knew if anyone was to stop him, it was not you.

After loving him for so long, you could not be the reason to get him sober. You could not be someone he wished to be sober for, and yet, someone else could. He was sobering up so he could say goodbye to Dave.

Each time you had to hear Dave's name, you took a sip of your drink. It was like a fucked up drinking game for you, where you just hoped by the end of it you could forget why you were drinking in the first place. Sometimes you did forget, while most times you couldn't.

Tonight, you were not even sure how much you drank before you began crying into your pillow that night. You could not even remember what exactly triggered your tears that night either. All you knew was you were sitting in your darkened room at the home you grew up in, tears spilling from your eyes.

You could not hear the meeting going on in the kitchen, which was not quite far away from you either. As you wept, your adoptive siblings were sitting in the kitchen, talking about your state. Most did not know why your behavior had plummeted.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Luther said with a scowl, his fists clenched in anger. Luther looked to you as a younger sister, but with the behavior that you had shown, the part of him that was angry he could not help you, thought you were just being an idiot.

Allison placed a gentle hand on his wide back, calming him slightly. "There's something clearly wrong, but going at her in anger isn't going to help," Allison cooed softly, trying to get the large man to calm fully. She was always the level headed one of the group, for the most part, though the two of you had grown apart when she had moved out. "Maybe I could talk with her."

"You guys don't get it," Five interjected thoughtfully. "You can't get her to stop drinking. That would be another catastrophe that we don't need."

Klaus's lips turned downward into a grimace as he glanced over at Five. "So, I get sober and everything is fine and dandy, but she can't?" He said in disbelief. "She was never the trainwreck."

"Heavily negative emotions affect her powers," Five replied with a finger up, as if to silence the room that was not speaking in the first place. "She could, theoretically, end the world."

Klaus merely stared in disbelief at Five's accusation. Allison had chimed in, "We need her help to prevent the end of the world, though."

"Why don't we lock her in the safe room?" Luther chimed in, "I mean, until she's stable."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Klaus shot up, floored by Luther's ridiculous proposal. "Why doesn't someone just figure out why the hell she's upset in the first place?"

"I know why," Five stated matter-a-factly.

"Care to enlighten us?" Luther shot back.

Five shook his head, his finger underneath his chin, as if he was thinking of a way to fix things without actually helping you whatsoever. "It's not my business to tell," he simply stated with a shrug.

What the group did not know was the fact that Ben was in the other room, and since you would not be able to see a ghost, he was able to observe you. He had observed you more than a few nights, trying to figure it out before it had become an increasing issue. The ghost of your adoptive brother watched as you spoke to yourself, even in your own drunken slumber, and he had figured out the issue. Of course, the only downside to his findings was the simple fact that he was not sure he would be able to help.

The group had gone their separate ways with time, each heading to slumber upon their own accords. Beforehand, they had spoken about the impending threat of the apocalypse itself after talking about the apparent impossibility of aiding you. Klaus had retired to his chambers with Ben waiting on a chair in the corner, and the ghost had glanced up as Klaus had superman-ed into his bed.

"She's crying over you," Ben stated to the half awake Klaus.

This had made Klaus shoot up into a seated position, his eyes fixated upon his ghost adoptive brother, a frown protruding on his face. With a clear head, Klaus was able to process things more productively, and since he had been sober, his head was truly clear, thanks to Diego's support. "Why is she crying over me?" He asked after trying to process what Ben was saying in the first place.

"Don't be an idiot, Klaus," Ben said crossing his arms. "She loves you."

Klaus had spent a year in Vietnam, and had fallen in love as well as watching that love die. He thought about you, and the attraction he had for you as kids. There was something of love there, but nothing had become of it, as he begun drowning himself in just about anything that would keep him away from sobriety. He still had cravings and addictions, but due to his desire to say goodbye to Dave, he was sober and staying as such.

His lips pursed tightly, and he laid back upon his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He tried formulating a plan as he stared at the ceiling, his blue eyes blurring as he felt a few tears well in them. As he kept thinking, he could see the signs throughout time. Each and every time that you had shown him something, he had ignored it. His own self doubt, self pity, had stopped him from believing that someone actually cared for him.

With the thoughts flowing through his mind, he drifted off to slumber, knowing what must be done when the sun rose. He had loved Dave, and part of him still did, but Dave would have wanted him happy. Dave would have wanted to see him sober and happy, living a fulfilling life.

***

Though Klaus was sober, he was still groggy to rise. He had to force himself out of bed, and had received an approving nod from his adoptive ghost brother Ben before he had left his room, trailing quickly to your own in his normal, eccentric step. Without announcing his presence, assuming you would likely still be asleep, he started by clearing your room of alcohol quietly. Each bottle he had found that was either half empty, or even the full ones, he brought to the bathroom. He poured each and every one of them down the drain, smiling as he did so.

The addict in him desired to taste just a sip of the liquor that he poured, but the need to be better had stopped him from the temptation. He had not attempted to hide the evidence of the empty liquor bottles, knowing that someone would get annoyed and grab them later. Turning towards the kitchen, he skipped gleefully as he went to grab a hangover cure that he still knew how to make from the fridge. Five had been drinking his coffee as Klaus entered, and a sly smile crossed his lips knowingly.

Klaus made haste to your room, which you were still very much passed out messily on your bed, your pillow covering your face. Your normally ivory face was a mess with dried tears and disheveled hair, and this had become more apparent as he had removed the pillow from your safe covering. He could still smell the strong scent of alcohol upon you, both from your breath as well as the bit that you likely spilled upon your clothes.

"Wakey-wakey," he sung out in a sing-song tone as he prodded at you to rise. The first few times that he had prodded you, you had not even stirred, but as he continued, you groggily begun moving. As if it had already become a habit to you, you had reached for the bottle of alcohol that was at your nightstand the night prior, and yet your hand fell short of nothingness. There was nothing for you to grab, after all.

As your consciousness was hitting you, you bit your lip hard, your glazed e/c eyes searching. What they had found instead, not even more than a few inches away from your now sitting up figure, was the man you were drinking over. The first thing you ended up drinking in was his deep blue eyes that stared into your own, followed by his gruff facial hair and his lips that were curled into a smile.

"Where-" you started in a placid tone, before he cut you off.

"Drink this," he said, handing you the hangover cure that was still firmly in his hand. You begrudgingly took the odd looking drink, downing it quickly before you had to taste the horrible liquid that you had swallowed. Once you did, you glanced up at Klaus with curious eyes as he held a hand out to you. After a few moments, you had taken the hand, rising to your feet.

He pulled you by your hand all the way over to the bathroom, turning the shower on and beginning to take off his own clothes, encouraging you to do the same. For a few minutes, you stared blankly in disbelief. "Klaus, uh, what are you doing?" You asked through a stutter, your eyes not being able to leave the sight before you.

"Currently, waiting for you to get in the shower," he said with a suggestive look upon his face, causing you to stifle a laugh. He was always so eccentric, which was one of the many things you adored about the man, but he had never dragged you into the shower before. After all, why would he do that?

You shrugged off your clothing shyly before you were stripped fully, leaving your arms in front of your main insecurities. He had reached out and moved your arms for you, the feeling of his hot skin against your own causing you to shudder. "Beautiful," he mused out as his eyes drank you in, before he grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you in with him. He allowed you to stand directly under the flowing water, before he had wrapped his slender arms tightly around your waist, his head resting in your shoulder.

"What's gotten into you today?" You said skeptically, though even you could admit that this is what you truly dreamed of. His embrace was tight, almost needy, and it felt as if he was washing away all the bad thoughts from inside of you in this moment as the water washed down your body.

He smiled into your shoulder, not moving from his spot as he murmured, "You could have just told me, instead of me having to find out from Ben."

Your eyes widened at the accusation, but your arms reached up to pull him as close as you could, embracing him tightly. Breathing in his intoxicating scent was much more addictive than your alcohol. "So, I take it you know that I love you," you said as more of a statement than a question, though you did wish for an answer.

"Mhm," he breathed out gently. "And I love you, Y/N. I don't want you going down the same path I did, especially because of me."

"And you're not just saying this because you want me sober?" You mused out in almost a whisper.

His chin disconnected from your shoulder, and he glanced deep into your eyes before closing the gap between the two of you, lips upon lips. It started gentle and sweet, as if he was asking for permission. As you begun kissing him in return, he started kissing more passionately, his arms holding you tighter than before, if that was even possible.

When the two of you had finally separated for air, a smile was prominent against your lips as your lungs begged for oxygen. "Does that answer your question?" He said teasingly, a sly yet genuine smile upon his lips.

You nodded before pulling him into another sweet kiss, moving your lips in sync with his own, enjoying the sparks that flowed through your body. Of course, you had your doubts, but this moment was too wonderful for negative thoughts, and when he finally says goodbye to Dave, he would be able to tell him that he is going to live on happily.

#reader insert #the umbrella academy #klaus #klaus Hargreaves #xreader #klaus x reader #wattpad #oneshot

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