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a-write-for-soreeyes · 4 years ago

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Making Bets | Seo-Joon [True Beauty] x Gender Neutral!Reader

summary: making bets with your boyfriend Seo-Joon was NEVER a good idea, but when a no kiss bet with a promise of a week of dates comes up, how could you refuse?

word count: 2280

a/n: sorry i’ve been so absent! it’s been really hard to finish writing anything i’ve started recently but i’ve got something in the works i hope you all enjoy! :D <3

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Making bets with Han Seo-joon was never a good idea. But, when the prize was a full week where the winner gets to choose a week of dates… how could I say no.

“y/n I don’t get why you said yes to this bet, we all know you can’t even last through first period without a kiss from Seo-joon.” Soo-a said as she cuddled further into Tae-hoon’ side on the bench across the lunch table, “yah, we all know you guys are all over each other whenever possible,” Tae-hoon groaned out leaning his head on Soo-a’, “speak of the devil.” looking up from shuffling food around my tray I saw Seo-joon approaching the table trailing just behind Ju-kyung and Soo-ho’s linked arm forms looking a little more than disgruntled at the couple walking in front of him.

“Hello love birds, how nice of you to grace us with your presence on this fine monday morning.” Tae-hoon teased as the other couple sat next to me, Seo-joon taking the last spot to the right of Soo-a, across from me.

“What Seo-joon, not going to kiss your partner hello?” Soo-ho joked as he kissed Ju-Kyung’ cheek before picking food up from his plate and feeding her.

“Morning.” Seo-joon whispered, barely sparing me a glance before looking back at his tray. “Morning babe.” I whispered back.

“So y/n...I heard you and Seo-joon made a bet over the weekend. What’s up with that?” Ju-Kyung asked pushing her hair over her shoulder and turning my way, “oh,” clearing my throat, “Well, Seo-joon's friends were complaining over the weekend about how much we kiss each other in front of them, so we decided to make a bet on how long we could go without kissing each other, and whoever caves in first loses. But, the winner gets to decide a full week of dates the loser has to pay for.” I stated.

“OOO! That sounds fun! We both know you guys though, and we know you both wont last 3 days!” Soo-a joked, causing the rest of the table to laugh, “what plans do you have to win?” she continued.

“Well, I’m not sure to be honest,” I chuckled running a stressed hand through my hair, “I think I’m just going to try and focus on something else other than kissing him, even though that’s going to be hard.” I said laughing a little, sticking my tongue out at Seo-joon just to tease him.

“Well if you need any help y/n just let us know, Ju-kyung and I would be happy to help!” Soo-a said, as everyone returned to their lunches.

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“y/n it’s been 2 days and you’re already starting to annoy us with all your whining about missing your ‘sweet precious Seo-joon’” Soo-jin joked, making a silly whiny voice at the end causing the other girls around the table with us to laugh at her terrible impression of me.

“Ya Soo-ho has been telling me about how annoying Seon-joon has been about this whole bet thing and he’s just about ready to kill him.” Ju-kyung laughed.

Sighing I took a sip of my milkshake, “I know, we’re so annoying but I don’t know what to do, I really miss him, but I don’t want to have to pay for all the dates we’d be going on.”

“Well why don’t you try to seduce him?” Soo-jin started, “I mean you’re closing at your work tomorrow right? Why don’t you invite him over for a late night swim after you close? I mean your boss shouldn’t mind if you don’t tell them right?”

“That’s,,,that’s not a bad idea Soo-jin.”

“Ya! And you can ask him tomorrow at school in front of all his friends! He’d be crazy to say no in front of them! especially to a makeout session in a pool!” Ju-Kyung reasoned, Soo-a shaking her head in agreement at our master plan.

“Alright then! Tomorrow at school.” I stated, taking the last sip of my milkshake.

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“Hey baby.” I said walking right up to Seo-joon in the hallway, effectively stopping Seo-joon and his posse in their tracks.

“Oh, uhh, hey honey, how’s it going?” Seo-joon said, startled by my sudden appearance in front of him.

“Hey y/n!” one of Seo-joons friends said cheerfully. Paying his friend no mind I started to lean in closer to Seo-joon, causing him to lean his head back to avoid mine.

“So listen, I was thinking about going swimming at my work later? My boss is letting me close alone tonight since I’ve got the late shift?” I said leaning in closer with each sentence. Looking into Seo-joon's widened eyes at my statement.

Hearing his friends muffled laughing from behind him, he cleared his throat composing himself, “thanks for the offer baby but uh- i'm busy tonight.” he said hurriedly, before pushing past me and making his way into the classroom behind us, sitting at his desk hiding his flushed face and trying to ignore his friends teasing.

Looking over to Soo-a and Ju-Kyung I shook my head. Soo-a's expression turned to one of disappointment and Ju-Kyung letting out a hufft that our plan hadn’t worked.

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“Soo-aaaaaa, our plan didn’t wooorrrrkk.” I whined, placing my head on my hand and leaning against the lunch table, “I don’t know what I'm supposed to do anymore, it’s been 6 days and I miss him.”

“y/n dude we know you miss him but you gotta stop talking about how much you miss him, it’s all you’ve been talking about since this whole bet started.” Tae-hoon complained.

“Listen, it’s not my fault that he’s so perfect and that every time I see him I just wanna kiss his perfect lips.” I whined my head slipping down my arm as I stared at Seo-joon from across the lunch room.

“Well if I were you and I wanted to avoid kissing my boyfriend I would just ignore him until he gives in.” Ju-kyung said between mouthfuls of rice and meat off of her lunch tray, “thanks babe.” Soo-ho said sarcastically as he looked at Ju-kyung blank faced, “no problem honey, only telling you the truth.” She joked before giving him a quick kiss on the lips, which he gladly accepted.

“I hate you guys and your cute-and-able-to-kiss-each-other, relationships.” I sighed, “well I guess ignoring him until he gives in isn’t such a bad idea.”

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“Hey baby.” Seo-joon whispered as he placed his arm above me on the wall leaning in. “h-hey Seo-joon, how-how’s your day been?” I stuttered out trying to look him in the eyes, “My day’s better now that I've seen you.” He stated, gently lifting my face to properly look him in the eyes. “Listen honey, I have to get going to class but how about after school I take you to that book store you’ve been begging me to take you to”,

“Y-yeah, that would be nice thanks.”

“Good.” He leaned in to kiss me, feeling his warm breath fan across my face, causing me to flush. Closing my eyes I waited for the final push of his lips against mine, but instead felt the cold take the place of his warm breath as he suddenly pulled away his light laughter mixing with the small snickers of his friends watching the interaction, “see ya later baby.” he stated walking off down the hallway, his friends chasing after him, congratulation him on the little stunt he pulled on me. Seeing Ju-kyung, Soo-a and Soo-jin shaking their heads out of the corner of my eye, Soo-jin tutted “using your own tactic against you, that’s evil. but, man, you’ve got it bad for that boy. Good luck paying for all those dates.”

“I’m gonna have to try a lot harder to ignore him if he’s going to keep pulling stunts like that.” I sighed.

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It’s been 8 days since the bet had started, and it hadn’t gotten any easier to not kiss him. We’ve been effectively avoiding each other, this afternoon at school being the first time we’ve spoken since last thursday.

“Thanks for paying my bus fee. You didn’t have to do that” I thanked Seo-joon awkwardly as we took a seat at the very back of the bus.

“Of course, you’re my partner, you think I'd make you pay your own bus fee?” he laughed lightly, reaching out for my hand. Quickly yanking my hand away from his grasp I cleared my throat fixing my uniform shirt, looking away before I could get drawn back in by him.

“How was your day? You know besides great because now you’re seeing me.” he joked trying to drag my gaze away from the window to my left, “it was fine thanks, boring but you know how it is, stressed for the test on friday though.” I tried to joke, switching my gaze from the window to my fingers, playing with the hem of my dressshirt.

Sitting in awkward silence for the rest of the bus ride, we finally arrived at the small corner bookstore Ju-kyung recommended I check out.

“You know I could have just driven us here on my motorcycle right?”

“Well yeah but you know how I feel about your motorcycle, you’re gonna get killed on that think Seo-joon.” I joked, knocking his shoulder lightly, trying to lighten the mood from the tense bus right here. “Here let me get that for you.” Seo-joon said softly as he grabbed the door handle pulling it open for me to enter the warmth of the small store.

“Ah welcome!” the man at the front desk said as he pulled his headphones up from his neck to cover his ears, “FEEL FREE TO LOOK AROUND.” he yelled over the blasting rock music coming from his headphones.

Seo-joon and I quickly thanked him before walking further into the winding stacks of manga, making sure to be well out of earshot before bursting into fits of giggles over the yelling of the man at the front desk, calming down slightly before hearing him knock over a drink and letting out a few loud curses, throwing us back into our fits of giggles, leaning in Seo-joon's warmth trying to calm down.

Pulling away from him I cleared my throat before making my way further into the store fixing my uniform sweater to try and calm my warming face. Hearing Seo-joon clear his own throat before following a few steps behind me.

Running my fingers softly over the spines of manga looking for a title that grabbed me, I scanned the bookshelf spotting a title I recognized. “Seo-joon look!” I spoke excitedly pointing to the book I recognized on the top shelf, “My sister and I used to read them when we were younger, we would fight over our single copy for hours trying to read it before the other was able to.” I laughed lightly at the memory, not noticing Seo-joon's soft gaze watching me ramble about my childhood. Reaching up to try and grab the book I switched to standing on my tiptoes stretching my arm up as far as possible mumbling to myself, cursing my parents for making me so short. Just as I felt my finger tips brush the cracked spine of the manga a large hand came out of my right field vision grabbing the book off the shelf for me. “Ah thank you baby.” I thanked Seo-joon turning to him, reaching out for the book he still held in his much larger hands, however being slightly startled at how close he was actually standing to me.

Standing still for a few moments just looking at each other I broke the silence, “thanks for grabbing that for me. Could I please have the book now?” my voice coming out in barely a whisper. Not getting any sort of response from Seo-joon I asked him, “Seo-joon? What’s wrong ba-” not being able to get through the full sentence before feeling the breath knocked out of me as Seo-joon pressed his lips against mine, effectively ending the bet in one, beautiful, breathtaking, sweet kiss.

Pulling back after a few moments to catch out breath I looked up at him, eyes slightly closed still relishing in the feeling of the kiss we shared, a soft warm light coming from the shop's eclectic lighting fixtures, haloing him making him look more ethereal than I have ever seen him. “Sorry I didn’t ask you if I could kiss you, but I just saw you rambling about the book you were passionate about, and you look so cute with your hair falling in front of your face like it is,” he whispered lovingly pushing a strand of hair out of my sight, “and I just realized. I love you.” he stated, taking a deep breath in waiting for my reaction to his first confession.

Looking at me worriedly waiting for my reaction. “I love you too Seo-joon” I whispered, standing on my tiptoes, burying my face in his neck embarrassed at the first proper confession of our love for each other. Feeling Seo-joon smile into my neck he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer into his warm body, standing back, flat on my feet he buried me further into his chest, the both of us relishing in the warmth the others love provided.

“You know, I think our first date this week should be the movies tomorrow.” I started to laugh, feeling his chest rumble beneath my head he sighed lightly,

“You’re going to drain my bank account dry this week with these dates aren’t you?”

“Hahaha! Maybe I am. It’s only because I love you though.”

“I love you too”

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #seo joon #seo joon x reader #kdrama #kdrama x reader #seo joon imagine #x reader #x gender neutral reader #gende neutral reader

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ohworm-writes · 4 years ago

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#02 - Tape Two | series masterlist

⮞ Beta Reader - @jschllatt ! thank you so much for proofreading this for me !

⮞ Pairing - Monster!Technoblade x Monster-Hunter!Reader ⮞ Summary - Bugs are not your favorite things to deal with, especially when it’s 10 times your size and chasing through streets after you. However, maybe a sight in the dark is worth the challenging day. ⮞ Rating - Mature (SFW) ⮞ Warnings - violence , description of bug monster ( centipede ) , cursing , anxiousness ⮞ Word Count - 3.4k ⮞ Taglist - Open! Send an Ask or DM to be added

Dead leaves crunch under your feet, and while the sound would have been satisfying in any other scenario, this was not the one. The small, nearly inaudible noise is enough to make you stop dead in your tracks, head poking up from your previously hunched position to look around. If you saw it yourself, it could have reminded you of a meerkat. The animals, as meek as they are, are quite the attraction.

Any sound you’d make would go fairly unappreciated. You see, out here, sound was not exactly one to be a best friend. It was an enemy, if anything. If anyone or anything were to hear you, to hear your location, you could be dead within seconds! Minutes, if you were a lucky one. A single noise, much like a fall leaf turning to pieces underneath your feet, is more than enough to cause fear to course through your veins.

It’s almost a full minute until you move again. Sixty seconds stood in the same, and quite the uncomfortable, position. However, it’s much better to be safe, rather than sorry. Slowly, quietly, and carefully; you let your body move once more. Careful step after step, one foot in front of the other, simply trying to make it from Point A to Point B. Alive, preferably.

You had set out more than a few hours ago, maybe… 7 hours or so? Given the position of the sun, which was a little further than its previous position in the center of the sky, it was enough to tell you that noon had gone, and the evening was nearing. Oh, how the time had passed, slowly albeit. Your anxiety and cautiousness never faltered. Never once did you stroll down the street, taking in the sights of what once was.

If you did, however, you’d be able to see the beauty of it. How the trees were full of life, spectacularly green leaves scattered across it by the thousands. How the flowers, some of which had poked through the asphalt of the streets, had bloomed in bright and captivating colors of all shades. How the streets, once filled with nothing but cars and people, had now been taken back by the land. Oh, what a sight it is, and what a sight you were missing out on.

Even though you had overlooked the beauty of it all, you couldn’t deny that being out here was a breath of fresh air. Quite literally, in that sense. No, but especially because you were out here alone. On one hand, you could see it as another factor for you to be more aware than you already were. There was nobody to watch your back, to yell out if they had seen or heard anything. No, that was all your job now. You were the one to have all say in whether you made it to tomorrow.

Without those thoughts, though, you could admire it. You had never had a moment to yourself, with it being always ruined by judgmental stares or offhanded comments. Now, you could listen to the beautiful silence that was loneliness. A shame, some could call it, how you’d revel to have moments like these alone. Why be alone when you could be out with friends or, hell, even people! Well, when nobody seems to take your side, though, loneliness is your only friend. It’s the only thing that you know won’t leave.

Well, it’s the only thing you hope won’t leave, especially not now.

Though, as they say, speak of the devil, and he will appear.

A clicking noise, much similar to the sound of steps, travels to your era. It’s far, but it’s audible. The crossbow, made at home in your hands, directs towards the sound in a fraction of a second. The way your body moves with such violence, it’s a wonder how you didn’t have whiplash from the movement. Everything around you seems to come to a halt at that moment. Not another sound, not a breath, no movement or sound at all.

You stand at the corner of a street, tacky green arrows signs in the distance held up by a rusting chain to a stoplight to tell you which street is which. ‘4th Avenue,’ the sign ahead reads, and to its right, in the opposite position, reads ‘12th Avenue.’ On your right, there’s a barbershop, the red, white, and blue cylinder set to a stop out front. The windows are smashed in, shards of glass scattered along the pavement outside, and by the smell coming from inside, you can think that a little more than cutting hair happened there.

You hone your senses in on where the noise had come from, eye to the scope as you point your weapon in the previous sound’s direction. The arrow tip points towards the edge of the building, pointing into the street aside from it. When there’s no more noise, that’s when you panic. The worst thing you could experience out on the field was to hear a quite obvious sound, and then nothing. No indication if the sound had been there at all, or if it was something in your head. If it was there, then where had it gone?

To your luck, or not, the sound finds its place in your ears once more, the clicking sound much closer than the last time you had heard it. It’s almost like the sound a rollercoaster makes as it’s climbing the tracks towards a peak, slowing as it reaches the top. As the coaster reaches the top, there’s that brief sense of both dread and relief. On one hand, because you know what’s coming next. You know that soon, that calm would pass, and you’d dive downward into something you’re not sure if you’re ready to tackle head on. On the other, you know that this is the last of the peace, and you want to relish in every moment that you can.

And just like that, the coaster dives.

From behind the crumbling brick of the likely once lively barbershop, something peeks to look at you. It’s low at first, whatever it was, maybe a foot off of the ground. But then, then it grows tall. Much taller than you, oh by quite a lot, that is. As it comes around the corner in all of its glory, you can see this plunge is far scarier than you’d expected.

The clicking noise had come from the legs of the monster, the skinny limbs coming by the hundred. The plates, like that of armor, plated across its back, face to and away from you, instead, its vulnerable purplish underside facing towards you. Looking up, the beast towering, you see its head. Large half-moon eyes on either side of its face peering down at you, antennas poking through the top. Large mandibles protrude from the side of its face, serrated teeth fully on display from its wide-open jaw.

That was a goddamn centipede, wasn’t it?

Its body wiggles as it reaches its full height, standing above you at twenty feet or so, its long shadow casting down over you. And then it pounces. The beast leaps towards you, mandibles spread wide as it dives directly towards you. At the same moment, you dash to the side, the trigger pressing down as it sends the arrow flying towards the underside of the monster. It pierces before the monster even touches the ground, a loud screech echoing from it.

It recovers quickly, twisting its head sharply, and you’re already bolting, making a violent turn down the street it just came from. It’s abandoned as you’d hoped, but not for long. With that many legs, it catches up with you quickly. The clicking, the thudding its limbs make as they collide with the ground, is something you won’t ever be able to forget. You dash from one side of the street to the other, taking the moments you have to reload the crossbow.

It’s a task you’d wished was much easier right now, holding the arrow between your teeth as you pull the string back with one hand, the other shakily holding the weapon. To your luck, it clicks into place, and you spend no time loading it. You look over your shoulder, being met with the quickening pace of the oversized bug as it bounds towards you, a green drool dribbling out from its mouth. Now that it’s on the ground, it’s near impossible to get a worthy shot on it.

You had looked over the file of the exact creature countless times while at the casino. Sleepless nights left to your own devices were all spent the same; hunched over your rotting desk, reading file after file on different monsters. While the words seem to blend before your eyes, the facts stay perfectly separated from one another.

These creatures, rightfully referred to as ‘Giant Centipedes’, are a common Euclid, mid-level monster. They tend to find a home in heavily wooded areas and marshes, few can be found scuttling down the abandoned avenues. Avenues, specifically that is. They’re around 60 feet long on average, longer or shorter depending on their age. They molt, which is a strange and unnerving occurrence that you, thankfully, have never seen yourself. When they molt, they’re most vulnerable, the plates on their back much softer.

But, to your luck, the one chasing you must have been between molts, its plates at their strongest. The brown and purple-colored plates shine as the sun reflects off of them. However, this was not the time to admire it. Making another sharp turn, you race down another street, your friend in tow. It lets out a high-pitched snarl as sweat beads across your hairline, calm muscles burning at the exertion. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, and your breaths, while even-paced, leave you gasping.

With the crossbow held tight to your chest, your body at an angle as you sprint, you think about your options. One, fuckin’ hell, you better sprint as your life depends on it. Because it bloody does! Two, however, which is much more of a plan, was to aim for an opening, quite literally. You had to wait for the exact moment where either its underside was exposed, or something else.

Looking back for a split second, you see it. You see an opening. As you move to aim the crossbow, fast as ever, you do one thing you had been terrified of doing the entire chase.

You trip.

Your body tumbles onto the pavement, with no more grace than a drunken man. You’re still holding onto the weapon, barely at that, but it’s still in your grasp. It hurts like hell, your body colliding with the asphalt, broken glass, and gods know what else. The clicking stops too, and the moment you regain your stability, you realize why. The beast is towering over you, much like before, but now you’re on your ass staring up at it.

It’s not a pleasant sight, the green liquid dripping from its mouth and mandibles onto the pavement only a few inches away from you. Its body gives a little wiggle, almost giving itself a pat on the back for a chase well done.

The crossbow, held in your dominant hand, sits to your side. Not because you had given up, ready to accept your demise, but rather because you were looking for an opening to shoot. Bringing the weapon out while the creature drools above you was suicide. You look up at its body, eyes trained for a moment on the arrow you shot at it, which found itself lodged in its middle. An excellent shot, if you say so yourself, especially with the confines of the moment.

Your eyes trail higher, where its neck started and its body ended, you had no idea. The flesh molds together as one, just a long line of flesh. As you watch it lower its body ever so slightly, almost as if to smell you better, there’s your opening.

You yourself barely even react as you whip the crossbow out with lightning speed, holding it in your grip and aiming upwards. The creature can barely lower its body an inch, a snarl trapped in its throat as the arrow fires, piercing through the easy flesh of its lower jaw and coming up through the head.

At that moment, all life leaves the beast’s body, its body falling limp above you. You’re barely able to make it to the side as it crashes down upon the place you last were, a dark green ooze dribbling as the wound bleeds out. Your chest heaves as you look at it, your body propped up with one hand as you stare at the dead beast, its lifeless eyes directed towards you.

As the coaster car pulls into the station, and all is calm.

You let your body collapse against the pavement, a soft thud sounding from the action. A dry laugh sounds from your throat, a little noise to tell you that you lived. You let your eyes shut, the warm sun shining down on you as you let yourself relax for the moment.

All pleasant moments find their close, and you’re back onto your feet. As much as you wanted to melt into the pavement at that moment, falling asleep under the gentle sunlight, you didn’t want to stick around for what other monsters could have heard you. You take only a moment to retrieve both of the arrows, cringing at the grotesque noise it makes as you pull it from the flesh, before heading back on the road.

Your body is much more sluggish as you walk down the beat-up roads, eyes heavier from your previous antics. Most would feel lucky to be alive after something like that, but smarter people would shrug it off and keep going. Idiots revel at the moment, because as you do, you’re not paying attention, and that’s when the real challenges come for your throat.

Hours drone on as you make your way down the streets, out of one town and into the next. You couldn’t waste time, especially with the sun falling lower and lower into the sky. Covering ground was the most important thing if you wanted to be back within 8 days’ time, and you did not intend to stay out here even a minute longer than you needed to be.

Sweat covers your body as the sun beats down on you, the feeling of being not one you enjoy all that much. Your legs burn and add on to the exertion from earlier, you were more than just fatigued. The sky mixes with shades of pinks and purples, small clouds dotted here and there in the sky. It’s beautiful, and you stop dead in your tracks to admire it.

You’d scold yourself later tonight, half-asleep with emotions roaring, but you take the moment now to watch in awe. As the sun drops lower and lower on the horizon, the colors come in darker shades; you smile. It’s not a fake one like you’re so used to putting on with others around, but it’s one filled with genuine joy. Your mouth falls open partially, a satisfying breeze passing by you, and there’s peace.

As the sun nearly dips fully out of your sight, you decide to call it a night. It was no use going around in the dark, as it would simply and truly be a call for death. So, with drowsiness settling, you make your way to the closest building. The architecture here differs greatly from Las Nevadas and the rural towns you had passed through earlier in the day. While it’s far more urban than anything you’ve passed, tall complexes towering high above you, it’s not a major city.

The building closest to you is one of the shortest, only a single story to its height. From the burnt-out neon sign on the floor outside, you can tell it was a thrift store in a better life. The windows are, surprisingly, intact. Even with them being covered in dust, as you walk closer, you can see the pristine condition of the building.

Taking it as a safe enough option, you take hold of the dark handle on the door and pull. It takes minimal effort for the door to swing towards you, a smell of mold immediately taking to your senses. You breathe out roughly, pinching your nose as you walk in, closing the door shut behind you.

It’s as much as you’d expect a thrift store to be, which is rightfully not much. Hanger stands with countless dull and colorful items you’d never be caught dead wearing now fill the aisles. Small bookshelves display much more than books, leaving their contents out for you to gaze at. You can almost call the place cozy.

With a quick scope around the place, checking for monsters as well as broken doors and shattered glass, you deem it safe enough to stay in for the night. As if you had much of another option, seeing how all color had gone from the sky and the stars had shown. You set up a makeshift bed in the middle of an aisle towards the front, backpack hung up, and weapons nearby.

It’s as perfect as it can be, and given the circumstances, you’re more than happy with it. Letting your back fall against the carpeted floor, head dropping against a pillow you had found behind the counter, you let your body sink. It’s surprisingly comfortable, with the rough and tacky carpet and the feather-filled pillow. Yet, it feels like the most comfortable you’ve been in your lifetime.

As you let your eyes shut slowly, ready to be taken over into the realm of sleep, a soft light emits from the window, disrupting your peace. Your eyes open once more, trained to the ceiling, and you give out a soft huff. Well, if it wasn’t just your luck. Turning your head over, you look towards the dusted window, seeing blows of a bluish-green shade glow from outside.

Your body still lies flat on the floor as you watch the colors mold with one another, several strange blobs glowing from behind the glass. With a sigh, you sit up, all of that previous discomfort coming back to you at full force. You wince at the sharp pain that your back gives as you stand on your feet, muscles tight and sore.

You grab the hatchet that was clipped to your bag, making your way towards the glass, the colors shining brighter as you near it. It could have been some daylight timer someone had set up in the past, or it could be a monster. Only a foot away, you bring your hand up to the dusted window, shivering. With a single motion downwards, you wipe the glass, ridding it of dust.

With a row of dust gone, you’re able to look out through the window. It’s confusing when you first look at it, your mind not registering the green and blue figures floating above the street. But then, in a moment of both brilliance and stupidity, you realize. You take no time to hold the weapon at your side, swinging the door wide open as you gaze into the street.

Gods, was it worth it.

Glowing fish swim above the street and glide by your face. A green and blue bioluminescent glow radiates off of them, dully lighting up the street. You’re able to see their bodies twisting and their fins swishing if you pay attention close enough. A school of smaller fish comes right by you, moving swiftly by your face and into the sky.

And, as you watch them float higher, you’re sent into a moment of awe as you gaze into the sky. Whales and fish and sea creatures alike float high up in the sky, moving between the glow of the stars effortlessly. You watch as one of the larger whales floats closer to the ground, tail swishing up and down as it propels itself through the air. Your eyes go wide as you stare, a childlike grin set on your features that even you don’t catch.

It’s… amazing. It’s wonderful in every way you could never imagine by yourself. The glowing creatures in the sky, swimming through its currents, are a sight you’d never been able to see in your lifetime. It’s something a child would squeal with happiness at, something that they, and you, would never forget.

With a mix of awe, excitement, and delight, you spend your time admiring the creatures above. Wishing, to yourself and whatever gods may have heard you, that you could be like them one day.

⮞ Previous Tape ⮞⮞⮞ ⮞ Next Tape

⮞ Technoblade Route Taglist - @cutiebear45 @kiki-is-the-name @hololizard @sunshinebutnotrainbows @valkyrieidunn @dominickle @err0rnan0 @lacunaanonymoused @ura-writes @jaciahbabes @mega-trash-cringe @itsberrydreemurstuff @theharborhooligan @maybeshroom @caliginous-skies @whalerus

⮞ Author’s Note - A day late, but in my defense, I have no defense. I know I’ve done a lot of world building, but I do promise things are going to start rolling in Techno’s direction next tape! I really do hope that you did enjoy, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!

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poohkeepsee · 4 years ago

Text

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles by 2street2car Words: 10,311 Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me by ellispark Words: 45,876 Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine by LeverDrift Words: 67,939 Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall Words: 26,052 Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human. And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend by sobsicles Words: 8,445 Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You by sobsicles Words: 95,090 Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication' by JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home by domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462 Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922 Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) by sobsicles Words: 74,173 Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim by Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910 Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination) by sobsicles Words: 108,427 Chapters: 4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date by aeli_kindara Words: 8,968 Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road by thegeminisage Words: 109,629 Chapters: 7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims by lagaudiere Words: 31,904 Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend by reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

#destiel #deancas #fic recs

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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Note

38 with Mat

from the Winter/Christmas Writing Prompts list

38. “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss.” 🎄

quick note: this one is prob a bit longer than the others will be. I just L O V E writing Sydney and Marty as secondary characters in Mat stories.

quick warnings: swearing, alcohol, super snowy powdery Christmas fluff

and, just for fun, song pairing: mistletoe by Justin Bieber (obviously)

_____

There really was no place like home.

After moving away to Los Angeles to attend USC for both undergrad and grad studies, you were finally back in New York. You hadn’t been able to resist the pull — it was almost as if, from all the way across the continent, you could feel the Atlantic tide receding and pulling you home along with it. For better or for worse, you belonged to the Empire State.

Sydney, your lifelong best friend and a New Yorker herself, was beyond ecstatic, as she had recently gotten engaged to her longtime boyfriend Matt, a hockey player, and named you her maid of honor. Planning a wedding — not to mention showers and bachelorette festivities — would be far easier, and far more fun, with you in the same zip code. Since moving back six weeks ago, you’d spent about ninety percent of your time with Sydney by your side, making up for lost time with the woman who had long been your other half.

So sweet, right? There was just one problem. Sydney wouldn’t stop trying to set you up with guys. She was insistent that you’d been single for too long — you’d broken up with your college sweetheart by the end of your senior year — and she made it her mission for you to find love again. And she, on her own, was bad enough — she’d already hooked you up with so many friends of friends that you’d lost count, and none had been interesting enough for a second date — but her fiancé conspiring right along with her made resisting them that much more difficult.

This particular night, she had lured you to the home she shared with Matt under the guise of having dinner with her family, when in reality, she was throwing a Christmas dinner party for Matt’s closest friends on the team. All of whom had — and brought — significant others. Except for one. What a coincidence.

Also coincidentally, his name was Mat, too, or so you were told — you didn’t quite believe Syd’s Matt when he told you that upon introducing the two of you.

“Mat with one ’t,’” he announced, one arm slung around Mat’s shoulders. The handsome, dark-haired man swallowed thickly and gave you his best polite smile — it was in that moment that you realized beyond a shadow of a doubt this was yet another set up.

Matt made a lame excuse about needing to check on Sydney in the kitchen and snuck away after some brief pleasantries, but not before blatantly nudging your much-smaller frame toward New Mat. You gave Matt a menacing glare before recovering, standing a safe distance away from New Mat, leaning against the wooden beam behind you to keep you steady.

“So, Mat with one ’t,’ how long have you played with the ever-obnoxious Matty?” you asked, trying to play it cool.

Mat laughed easily. Damn, he had a nice laugh — the kind that made his pretty eyes crinkle at the corners. Nice hair. Nice teeth — perfect fucking teeth. Wasn’t he supposed to be a hockey player? Wait, what was he saying? Something about Seattle, and the draft, and… now you were lost. You nodded slowly with a forced smile as you tried your hardest to focus on what he was saying. He was just so goddamn pretty.

Thankfully, Sydney’s call from the kitchen saved you from the embarrassment of not having heard a word this poor boy had spoken.

“Dinner’s ready! I’m really type A, as you all know, so I made little placecards for everyone at the table,” she announced to the group of ten, hands clasped before her as Matt snaked an arm around her from behind and smiled proudly.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Mat mused. “Shall we?”

You threw him a grin and nodded, turning your back to him and making your way to the dining room.

On your way, you paused in front of your dear friend just long enough to grumble, “Assigned seats? Really, Syd?”

She clapped enthusiastically and smacked your ass as you passed her. “Yep! See you in there, champ!” she exclaimed as you heard frantic whispers exchanged between Mat and Matt. You couldn’t hold back your snicker, and as you glanced over your shoulder, Mat gave you a strained smile. You shook your head bemusedly and turned to the table to find that, to no one’s surprise, you and Mat were indeed to be seated side by side at one end of the table. You cleared your throat and nodded toward the cards bearing your names.

“Subtle, no?” you joked, causing Mat to blush pink. He choked out, “Ah, yeah. You gotta love them.” Then, he pulled out your chair and motioned for you to take a seat, which, as luck would have it, Sydney and Matt caught just in time because they were bringing in the food on serving dishes at that very moment. Their eyes sparkled and Sydney looked like she may self-destruct out of sheer joy as you sat down and thanked Mat. You gave her an icy look and she visibly retreated, holding herself back from making a complete scene.

“Okay, dig in!” she said instead as she sat down across from you.

Dinner was incredible, as usual — while your talents lacked in the cooking area, Sydney had always been an outstanding chef. Even more, you enjoyed the conversation, which was mostly inclusive of everyone at the table, save for the occasional chirp Mat secretly muttered in your ear about Matt or Anders, making you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle as Sydney looked on smugly. Meanwhile, whenever you and Sydney would say the exact same thing at the same moment or finish the other’s sentence, Mat would look to Marty, who would only raise his eyebrows and nod, confirming Mat’s suspicion that these two were always this in sync. Mat found it endearing. He adored Syd — if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed to come here tonight when she told him, “There’s someone I want you to meet…” — and already, he saw countless similarities in the two of you.

After he’d helped you clear the plates and load the dishwasher for your hosts, you and Mat settled onto a couch in the farthest corner of the living room, near the Christmas tree, while the others gathered in the center of the space, loudly entertaining themselves. As you curled your feet underneath yourself, you didn’t miss how Sydney reached for a nearby remote and slowly flickered on the fireplace right beside you and Mat. Yet again, you shot her a killer look that she pretended not to see as Mat smiled, amused at how flustered you were by Sydney trying to further set the mood.

“So how long have you known Syd?” he asked as he took another swig from his beer bottle, attempting to get you back on track. “Has to be a while. I swear I’ve never seen two friends who were more alike.”

You tucked some hair behind your ear and let out a breathy chuckle. With anyone else, you were ever prepared to skirt that question and quickly move on to another subject. But with Mat, it was nice knowing you really didn’t have to.

“Yeah, my whole life, actually,” you answered, a smile on your face at the thought. Your eyes flickered up to his as you added, “My dad played for the Jets... with Boomer while he was there.”

Mat’s brows quirked noticeably, but not in the familiar way that made you feel like he was about to ask you to FaceTime your dad or get an autograph from him. Because he was a professional athlete himself — which was ironic because you’d sworn up and down your whole life that, because of the lifestyle you saw your dad and his teammates, not to mention their families, lead, you’d never fall for anyone who played sports for a living. Even when Sydney insisted with a shrug after settling down with Matt, “It’s not that bad.”

“No way,” Mat said with a casual laugh. “That’s awesome. What position did he play?”

“Uh, receiver,” you replied. “So he and Boomer were tight. Our moms hit it off right off the bat and have been best friends since. Since then, we’ve always vacationed together, ended up living in the same neighborhood after they both retired. I’m three years younger than Syd and I was basically like her shadow. Still am, I guess,” you added with a smile.

Mat nodded, his eyes never leaving your face as you told the familiar tale. “I think that’s awesome though,” he spoke. “You guys could be sisters I feel like. You act just like her. Plus Marty says you’re the only friend of hers who’s kicked him out of bed so you could sleep with her.”

You threw a hand to your chest and your head back laughing at that, and Mat’s heart soared at being able to elicit such a reaction from you himself. You pointed a gold-polished index finger at him and admitted, “He tells no lies on that one.”

Just then, you caught Mat’s unabashed gaze, which had shifted from well-mannered and nonchalant into something deeper, something... affectionate. You swallowed, casting a downward glance at your lap, and swirled the ice cubes in your otherwise empty highball glass.

“I need a refill,” you said with a nervous giggle. “You want anything?”

Mat looked all too pleased with himself at your offer, and he nodded. “Sure, yeah, another beer would be great. Thank you,” he said. You smiled and nodded as you turned away and headed for the kitchen.

Ever the subtle one, once again, Sydney, who had been shamelessly watching the two of you from her perch in Matt’s lap across the room, stumbled over Jax’s paw as she bolted to the kitchen island where you now stood. You blinked at her wildly and said, “May I help you, Sydney Irene? You nearly wounded your poor dog.”

“So,” Sydney sang, ignoring your question completely as she leaned back against the kitchen counter, propping her palms on the edge and looking much more smooth than she had just a moment ago. She waggled her eyebrows at you before continuing. “Whadd’ya think? He’s cute, right?”

You scoffed. “Sydney—“ you began in a warning tone as you reached for the rum, but were interrupted before you could speak another word.

“If you hate him, it was Matt’s idea,” she deadpanned, then allowed a mischievous grin to stretch along her painted red lips as she cocked her head. “But if you like him, it was mine.”

You rolled your eyes as you poured yourself another rum ginger, ignoring the flush you could feel creeping up your chest and neck under Sydney’s scrutiny.

“You’re blushing! You do like him!” Syd squealed as she poked at your side, thankfully making an attempt to stay quiet as the guys, Mat included, carried on noisy shenanigans in the family room before you.

“Sydney, stop! I just met him,” you tried to argue, turning away from her. It was Sydney’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Like that matters. I fell for Matt like—“ she snapped her fingers for dramatic effect, “—that. And look at us now.”

You pursed your lips to the side. You couldn’t exactly argue that. With no quick comeback coming to mind, you stirred your drink, took three generous gulps — as Sydney watched, wide-eyed — and licked your lips before sighing at her.

“Well, fine,” you grumbled as you opened the fridge and grabbed a fresh beer for Mat. “Let’s not keep the boy waiting then.” You sashayed away from your friend who, spinning away from you, quickly squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her fingers before turning back and following behind you.

Mat thanked you profusely for the drink as you returned to him. Now he sat among his teammates, and Sydney sat back in Matt’s lap as you took the seat beside Mat on the opposite couch. You noticed how he immediately leaned back and comfortably stretched his arm across the cushion behind you, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t inch a little closer then. It briefly occurred to you that you were drawn to him in the very same way you’d been drawn back home not long ago.

He felt like home. Already.

And soon, after a few hours more of merrymaking, Mat never leaving your side, the other couples had all headed for home. You four who remained had played several rounds of euchre and sang and danced to half a dozen Christmas carols before you realized how late it was. Knowing you’d had too much rum and wouldn’t be fit to drive, you’d already established that you’d stay in Sydney’s guest room — or maybe kick Matt out of the master. Regardless, you were staying put. But Mat, reluctantly, was leaving — the boys had practice in the morning.

“I guess I should go,” Mat sighed after a long round of goodbyes. Matt and Sydney gave him one last hug and retreated to the far side of the spacious room, aiming, of course, to leave the two of you to your own goodbye.

You nodded. “I guess you should,” you said, caught off guard by the twinge of sadness in your tone. “I’ll walk you out.” Mat smiled and turned toward the front door, and your heart truly may have skipped an actual beat when he glanced back at you and reached his hand out for you to grab. You did so, biting down on your smiling bottom lip as you followed him down the hall into the entryway, acutely aware that, if Sydney and Matt were indeed watching — of which you had no doubt — they could still clearly see you.

But when Mat pulled on his shoes and stood up straight again, stepping slowly, so slowly, closer to you, all you could think about was how hard your heart was thumping against your ribcage. You looked up at him in anticipation, and he smoothed his hands down the sleeves of your sweater softly.

“I had a really, really nice time tonight, you know,” Mat spoke. You had to remind yourself to breathe as the sincerity of his voice flooded your senses and his warm, honey-flecked eyes pierced through you. “Tonight was honestly the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

You beamed — how could you not? “Yeah?” you asked incredulously. Mat nodded.

“Yeah. In fact,” he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if maybe, uh, you’d want to go to dinner with me sometime. Like maybe this Sunday night, after we play?”

You felt yourself grinning like an idiot, yet had no control.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Yes. Of course. I’d love that.”

Mat blew out a long breath and chuckled nervously. “Thank God,” he added as you both dissolved into a fit of giggles. You stepped closer to him and smelled his clean, woodsy cologne, inadvertently breathing it in. Mat came nearer, too, and tentatively reached his hands around to your lower back. “It’s a date then,” he spoke, his voice lower now, gravelly. You swallowed — hard — and gave a nod.

“It’s a date,” you echoed.

You simply stood in one another’s presence for a few long moments, smiling giddily at each other, before Mat sighed once more and glanced toward the door.

“I really don’t wanna go, but I—“

“No! Syd, just leave them be,” Matt suddenly whispered sharply to his fiancé — who seemed to have literally leapt up from the couch — though there was no point in whispering at all because you still heard him loud and clear. Jumping up behind Sydney, Matt easily wrapped her in his arms and clapped his hand over her mouth just as she started to speak.

After wrestling for control of Matt’s hand, she finally pulled it away just long enough to call out, “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss already!”

With one final “shush!”, Matt covered her mouth once more, though his entire body was wracking with silent laughter.

“Goodnight, kids!” Matt said tersely as he all but manhandled Sydney down the opposite hallway into their bedroom, the two of them erupting with laughter the second they closed the door.

You rolled your jaw and looked above you and Mat to find that, yes, indeed, there hung a very Sydney-like crystal ornament adorned with glittery mistletoe, suspended from the archway.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you muttered, resting your head against Mat’s chest as you both laughed anxiously.

But a moment later, Mat’s voice rumbled in his chest. “Hey...” he spoke. You took that as your invitation to look up at him, and when you did, you found him gazing at you even more tenderly than he had before.

“I mean, since there’s mistletoe and all.. would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asked. His hand found your cheek and you grasped his fingers in your own.

“Well,” you began, leaning further into him. “Only since there’s mistletoe.”

Mat breathed a chuckle and whispered, “Okay, good,” before his lips found yours in a toe-curling, snow-melting, heart-growing, hell of a Christmas movie kiss that you both found yourselves smiling into by the end.

“Wow,” was somehow all you could whisper when you finally pulled away for air.

“Yeah,” Mat agreed simply. “Wow.”

“It worked!” You heard the muffled squeal from behind Sydney’s closed door.

You rolled your eyes once again, hating Sydney in that moment, as Mat snickered and leaned in for another kiss.

Little did you know that a few years later, your dear, meddling Sydney would stand up at your side in front of a ballroom filled with your and Mat’s family and dearest friends and proudly tell the story of that cold late-December night when your love story with Mat began.

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capri-ramblings · 5 years ago

Text

No one asked for it but I've had scenarios of a Yandere poly-relationship for the First Year Squad for a while now and I just felt like indulging myself for a bit ✨ Hope you all like it as well!

Requests are in the works,both new and old. Your patience is greatly appreciated ❤️.

Warning; Toxic/Unhealthy relationship.

[ A Dent in the Mold ]

Epel looks at you with glistening eyes,his hands clinging onto your arm as he tugs you down into the seat beside him. He smells of lavender and goat's milk and his warmth is the kind that buzzes around you like a cocoon.

"Hands off, shorty!" Ace yells with a frown,his red brows furrowed as he takes up the empty space beside you. His hand comes up to swat Epel's away from you but misses when Epel swiftly evades him.

"Why? It's not like I'm taking up any of your space, and plus, who are you to tell me where to put my hands anyway?". The sneer that came onto Epel's face then bellied his soft features, and at a glance from someone outside the circle it may look like a boyish banter between two friends, but from where you sat trapped in-between them, the glower of possessiveness and envy didn't seem to miss either one of their gazes.

"Stop making a scene you two. Can't you see you're making them uncomfortable?", it was Jack who came by then, along with Deuce and Sebek. His sharp gaze almost immediately landed on you, a tinge of irritation encircling the ring of his pupils at the sight of how close you were to Epel.

You would've told him that it was against your own will, that despite his small stature Epel had a grip of an iron maiden set aflame to fix you in place and eat away at your flesh the more resistance you gave him. But you knew better than that. Dismissing Epel meant giving him an opportunity to punish you later.

Then again you also knew Jack was the most possessive of the group. Your explanation would have fell on deaf ears anyways.

"It's fine." You murmured, quickly before feigning a smile. It did no good to have them fight after all. You'd barely be able to handle them if they decided to turn against one another.

"What did you get for lunch?" You directed the question towards all three newcomers. Jack remaining his stiff expression while Deuce and Sebek beamed at your acknowledgement of them.

"They ran out of egg dishes for today but I bought you and I some sandwiches to eat together!" Deuce took out the sandwich he mentioned and immediately handed it to you, his teal coloured eyes tinting a slightly shy shade of blue as he raked your figure.

You returned his gesture with a smile of your own, somewhat grateful you weren't stuck with just Epel and Ace. Though the small act alone made the other four send death glares towards Deuce who still seemed dazed from your attention.

"Sandwiches aren't really nutritious you know, Deuce." Sebek pointed out with a frown before sliding a bottle of herbal tea in your direction. "Here,to wash away the leftovers".

He seemed so pleased with himself when you took the bottle and nodded your head, so satisfied that you were willing to take what he'd given you. It made the rest of the boys coil with annoyance. The kind that seemed to seethe and boil to a frightening degree.

But of course,to every other student watching, you were all nothing more than a group of first years conversing with one another.

And thus, your days at NRC repeated itself as if on loop. Trapped between the clutches of boys who would degrade anyone that dared interfered in their game of house with you.

Twisted and erratic, the unsettling delusion that you belonged to no one other than themselves grew apparent with each passing day.

General Headcanons

- Epel and Ace are the most clingy. They're always the first to latch themselves onto you like some sort of extra appendix.

- They make up the part of the group who watches who you interact with and keep track of where you go since they rarely ever leave you alone.

- Epel clings to you the most though and makes it close to impossible to shake him off without people asking you why you'd leave your meak-looking friend all alone.

- Ace is a bit more laid back but being easily jealous, he's quick to make a situation awkward for anyone he thinks is taking up too much of your time. Things like slinging his arm over your shoulders or making fun of you is his way of telling people you're his as opposed to Epel who leaves small, bright hickeys on places that are easily seen then pointing them out later as if he didn't know where they came from in the first place.

- Jack is quiet and stiff, but being a wolf, he's the most possessive in the group. He plays the part of the pact leader in the sense that he's always the one coming in between fights within the group and keeping you sane.

- He likes having you near him and makes you wear one of his wristbands so it's easier to find you and because he gets off on the fact that his scent is on you.

- Sebek and Deuce are the salves in the group. Since their possessive levels depends on their mood, which is always on the upside as long as you remember to flash them a smile and give them your attention, they're less likely to lash out on you or cause any great harm.

- However, once you get them on their bad side,these two won't hesitate to corner you together.

- Sebek's natural intimidation as a Fae will leave you unable to form words while Deuce's harshness leaves you a trembling mess.

- The group functions well together as long as they don't feel like you're favouring one of them and thanks to Jack you're not completely defenceless but there are times when even the loyal wolf enjoys watching you squirm underneath the great pressure of pleasing all five males.

Nsfw [ m i l d ]

- Jack gets to have you the moment school period ends. Deuce and Ace can't afford to spend the night due to Riddle's strict rules and because they can't have people questioning why you're being coddled by these boys too much while Epel and Sebek have their vice dorm heads hovering near them.

- He's always the one to walk you to Ramshackle Dorm and the one who warms your bed at night.

- He isn't overly aggressive when it comes to it but Jack has a tendency to lose control of his strength, watching you beneath him all writhing and crying makes it hard for him not to press you harder against him. The feel of your bare skin touching his drives him crazy, causes his thoughts to stir up this sick fantasy of having your flesh submit to his fangs.

- In the morning it's Ace and Deuce who greets you, Jack will have to be gone before they do to avoid any bitter discourse.

- Deuce's kisses are gentle but lingering, he likes having his hands on your waist as he pulls you closer to him. He gets all hot and bothered when he doesn't let you pull out for air and you let out this small helpless whimper against his lips.

- Ace is cheeky. The first thing he does after you pull away from Deuce is tug on your hair before he dives in for a kiss. Long and messy, Ace nudges open your mouth to let his tongue roam around your cavern without really asking for permission. The way his hands grip you is hard and careless, but when he ends the exchange, he grins and flashes you a wink. Boyish.

- Epel clings to you all throughout recess. His fingers cold and slender as they come in contact with your skin. He sits with you and even eats off the same plate, sharing food is a commodity of his you've learned to get used to but it's the trips before recess ends that always leaves you breathless and worn. He'll make the excuse of wanting to put away his and your plate but afterwards he pulls you into the bathroom and has you kneel in front of him before he slips in two fingers in your mouth and watches with ravenous eyes as you suck on them.

- He'll coo at you with praises and even play with your hair before he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Tongue impatient and hungry. He'll undo your collar and start leaving hickeys until you're whimpering and he sees your eyes swell with tears. He always cleans you up afterwards, spraying some of his cologne as a finishing touch.

- Sebek has you through the last two periods before school ends, and usually it's spent with him teaching you the history of his hometown and having discussions about magic and other various subjects. He isn't really a touchy type but he adores it when you flash him your shy,small smile or when you go through the trouble of adjusting his uniform for him.

- He lets you do whatever you felt like doing as long as he could involve himself in it, but on some days he likes having you play with his hair while he rests his head on your lap.

- All five have agreed on keeping you a virgin, the furthest act of sexual intimacy being oral sex.

- They have it decided that you'll choose who to belong to by the end of the school year.

- As long as they can keep the peace between one another of course.

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sparklyaxolotlstudent · 5 years ago

Text

Alternative to Ladybug.

Lila thinks Bustier is too much of a pushover and decides to frame Marinette with Mendeleiev instead. She made a huge mistake.

(This is sort of a rewrite of my “Lila Gets Exposed” fic)

Lila smiled smugly. Everything was going according to her plan. That bitch Marinette would get her just desserts and Gabriel Agreste would give her Adrien in a silver plate.

Her plan was a rather simple, really. She knew Marinette was a goody-two-shoe and would get a good grade on their latest test, so she stole the answer sheet and put it in her backpack. She then placed an anonymous note on Miss Mendeleiev desk about Marinette cheating and Mendeleiev would take care of the rest. Of course her first idea was to use Miss Bustier, but she was such a pushover that Marinette probably would be able to convince her of her innocence, or worse, she wouldn’t and her punishment would be just to apologize. Lila rolled her eyes at the thought. But with Mendeleiev? She was merciless, and once her plan got in motion, she was as good as expelled.

Just to be on the safe side, she had answered all her own answers wrong, so Marinette couldn’t accuse her of being the mastermind. And of course she also had hidden her fake fox tail miraculous necklace on Marinette’s locker, to accuse her of stealing a precious family heirloom.

Lila took a seat smugly as ever in Bustier’s class, as the class had returned to their regular classroom.

It had barely been 10 minutes of the teacher talking about something Lila was not paying attention, when someone knocked at the door. It was that pigtailed blonde girl from the other class… Aura?

“Miss Bustier? Hello. Miss Mendeleiev asked me to come for Marinette Dupain Cheng. If you gave her your permission”

Aurore gave Miss Bustier an envelope, which Miss Bustier carefully opened and read. “Yes, of course. Marinette?” The blue haired girl stood up. “Miss Mendeleiev wants to talk to you.” Marinette started to get out of her seat. “With your things”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, shrugged and grabbed her backpack. Once she and Aurore were out of the classroom, Bustier continued with her lecture. Lila was speechless, and a bit pissed. She expected that Mendeleiev would expose Marinette as a cheater, Marinette claim for her innocence and accusing her of being a cheater, an epic battle of wits… and she got nothing. The others weren’t even talking about it, or found it odd that Marinette had been called away.

Less than 15 minutes later, another knock on the door. This time it was Miss Mendeleiev, with Marinette in front of her.

“Excuse me for all the interruptions Caline” She greeted her colleague. “But I needed to talk to Marinette about something really important.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about” Miss Mendeleiev looked uncharacteristically nice. Lila expected her to be furious, and Marinette to be a sobbing mess, but instead they looked rather calm and mellow. “Can you lend me Lila for a moment?”

“Of course! Lila?”

Lila felt as if she had done the ice bucket challenge again… well, she actually hadn’t done it, but she said she did and managed to get thousands of dollars for… whatever the cause was.

“I didn’t cheat!” She said automatically, before she could process what she was saying. She immediately covered her mouth. Everyone looked at her. Miss Mendeleiev raised an eyebrow.

“That was not what I was going to discuss with you, but it is evident you know about that false accusation”

“It was not false! Marinette cheated on your test!” everyone gasped. Finally Lila was going to get the drama she deserved.

Marinette looked at her… with a bored expression. That was not what Lila was expecting.

Miss Mendeleiev crossed her arms in annoyance. She stared at Lila who was getting very nervous of the intensity of the glare.

“Demeter?” said Bustier, calling her colleague’s name in clear confusion.

“Well, if Lila wants this to be a public matter instead of a private affair… Miss Rossi tried to frame Marinette for cheating on my latest test”

Everyone gasped in surprise, and they started to talk. A look from Miss Mendeleiev made everyone go quiet.

“That’s impossible! Lila wouldn’t do something like that!”

“Marinette got full marks on yesterday’s test, nothing out of the ordinary for her.” They could swear Miss Mendeleiev smiled for a fraction of a second, but it could never be proved. “And today I receive an anonymous note on my desk about Marinette stealing the answer sheet.”

Caline Bustier covered her mouth in a dramatic fashion and looked at Marinette, who wasn’t reacting at all at the news. “Marinette?”

“Relax, she didn’t do anything wrong. I called her because the note also said that she still had the answer sheet. And she had it in her backpack”

“See? She cheated! She’s a cheater and a thief!” yelled Lila. She shut up when Miss Mendeleiev looked at her.

“She did?” asked Caline, still not understanding. Demeter Mendeleiev had to use all her willpower to not roll her eyes.

“The sheet was just shoved in her backpack. It makes no sense for her to have that on top of her things, a day after the test. Clearly, someone just shoved it in her backpack.”

Lila was fuming. This was not supposed to happen! The sheet on Marinette’s backpack should have been enough proof that she was a cheater!

“I wasn’t going to accuse a student for such a flimsy reason, and I had no proof of who could have sent that note, so I was going to forget about the whole thing… but Miss Rossi has incriminated herself, as I hadn’t mentioned the note to anyone until right now”

“Then why you wanted to talk to her?”

“I was feeling generous and was going to give her more time for her essay”

"It couldn’t have been me! I got all the answers wrong!”

The class gasped in surprise again. It was clearly this was the work of someone else. Miss Mendeleiev was even more annoyed now.

“It was a multiple choice test Lila. Even if you answered the test randomly, pure statistics say you should have gotten some answers right. The only way you got all answers wrong is if you knew the right answers and avoided them on purpose. Right Kante?” Mendeleiev asked Max, which caught him by surprise. The boy looked between Lila and his teacher.

“Yes… the possibilities of getting all the answers wrong in a multiple choice test by choosing randomly is practically 0”

Some of the other students glared at Max, especially Lila and Alya. Kim grabbed his smaller friend and glared back at them.

“Very well, Lila, come with me, I guess we’ll have to talk with the principal and with your mother about your punishment for cheating and trying to frame a fellow student”

“I… Marinette also has been bullying me! She stole my grandma’s necklace!”

Marinette turned around to glare at Lila, but before she could say anything, Miss Mendeleiev spoke for her.

“Really?” was everything she said, clearly not believing Lila. Miss Bustier, on the other hand, was shocked about the revelation.

“Yes. I know where it is. I’ll show you to prove I’m telling the truth”

Miss Mendeleiev pinched the bridge of her nose, more annoyed than ever. “We have already reached the conclusion that you got into her backpack Lila”

“What? No, not her backpack! She has it in her locker!”

Miss Mendeleiev stared at Lila for a few seconds. Everyone remained silent. “That’s it. You’re coming with me with the Principal”

“What? You’re not going to check her locker?”

“The locker that literally anyone can open?” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Lila. If you got into her backpack, getting into her locker would be even easier. You’ll recover whatever you put in Marinette’s locker later. And unless you’re apologizing to Marinette, I don’t want to hear anything from you until your mom arrives. Grab your things, we’re going. ”

#ml salt #miraculous ladybug #Lila salt #ml fic #ml ficlet #ml oneshot

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unsaid-stardust · 4 years ago

Text

Touch Me Like the Pouring Rain

trigger warning: this fic implies mild depressive episodes.

Luke used to love the rain. He often found himself on the walkway of the studio when it rained; back when he was alive that is. Now? Now he couldn’t feel the rain like he used to.

He couldn’t feel the baby droplets that raced down his arms; washing away whatever was troubling him at that moment in time (because the rain always seemed to hit so perfectly). He couldn’t get the shivers down his spine that he used to when he sat in the walkway, the ones that always made him remember why he liked to write. He couldn’t just sit and feel things anymore.

And it hurt.

It physically caused an ache in his chest. It was nothing like the pain from the jolts that were caused by Caleb’s stamp, not in the slightest. But, it was enough to make Luke unproductive the entire day, setting up camp at the window sill in Julie’s room.

Luke knew that he wasn’t supposed to be in Julie’s room, but there was something (Always) pulling him there. And he really needed to be surrounded by her today. He didn’t know why, perhaps it was that same gravity that pulled him towards Julie’s room. He really didn’t care for the why though because it didn’t change whether he went to Julie’s room or not (He knew why, but knowing and admitting are two completely separate things).

“Luke?” Julie’s voice called out to him; snapping him out of whatever ghostly trance he was in.

Had he been here all day? It didn’t feel like it. No, no he was only there for like 2 hours. But, then why was Julie already home from school?

“Luke, are you ok? That was like the third time I called your name,” Julie explained after dropping her backpack at her door. She made her way next to him at the window sill and it was then that Luke realized that he had been in some sort of catatonic state. His view of choice? the falling rain.

Most days, he could push that empty feeling in the back of his mind. The one that screams at him and tells him that he is no longer alive. That he doesn’t even have a body, a home, a family, at least one that shares his DNA. The only good thing about being dead is that he has Julie, Alex, and Reggie with him, but sometimes-- sometimes that wasn’t enough.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll head out now,” Luke lied, not really realizing his low, monotone-coated voice. Luke began to make his way towards the door when Julie touched his arm signaling for him to stop.

“Luke, I can’t let you walk away when I can tell that something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

If it were anyone else, if it were Alex or Reggie, he simply would have continued to make his way out of the room. They have enough weight on their shoulders, he didn’t want to add to it. And he certainly didn’t want to add that same weight onto Julie, but he couldn't say no to her. Not when she’s looking up at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. Not when she’s touching his arm, her warmth radiating onto his skin. Not when she’s the one that gets him without him needing to say a word.

But, how could he explain it to her? For one thing, it was a stupid concept to miss. Rain? It’s literally just water that falls from the sky and ruins your day by getting you wet when you weren’t planning it. And for another thing, he was never good at explaining his emotions. It’s why he wrote songs in the first place. For some reason, it was just easier putting them into music because that was all he was after; it didn’t seem as monumental as sharing his feelings out loud.

But with Julie, he could learn to try.

So, he pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath in and out, not letting his eyes off of Julie’s (If he did, it would’ve all been over and he would’ve left).

“it’s kinda of...stupid, but I've kinda been missing rain? I know it’s right out in front of me so it’s not like I can’t see it, but I can’t....feel it the way I used to and it’s just...hard,” Luke finishes. He dares to look right at Julie then and he sees her lips part and eyes looking back as if she knew him in a past life.

Sometimes it felt like that. Like Luke knew Julie in a past life. He doesn't know if it’s because of that night in her kitchen when she passed through his entire body and he could see the light in her soul. Or if it was the connect of electricity that flowed through their veins as they wrote lyrics and melodies at the piano. Or if it was because of moments like these where he could swear that Julie could feel what he was feeling even though he knew that was out of the question because she was alive and he was...

“Luke, that’s not...” Julie trailed off, trying to find the right words to say.

“That’s not stupid at all. Now that we can-touch it makes me forget the reason why we’re called Julie and The Phantoms in the first place. It only makes sense that some days--are like this. Is there anything I can do?” She questioned.

Luke felt his lips crease into a hint of a smile, the first hint of one, he guessed, all day. Of course she would want to help. Of course. She’s Julie Molina. Words couldn’t really express how much of a pure heart she was. But, even if that was the case, Luke felt that this was one thing that Julie couldn’t fix (She could stay and that would take the pain way a bit, but Luke didn’t think they were at that point in their interesting little relationship yet).

“I-I don’t know. But, Jules?” He questioned softly. She hummed in response.

“Thanks,” Luke acknowledged with a small smile and Julie nodded.

“Of course. I meant it when I said it. You can tell me anything. Now I'm starving so I'm gonna go get a snack you’re welcome to join me in the kitchen, but if you don’t feel up to it, I guess just this once, you can stay in my room,” Julie explained with that smile that Luke swore would put the stars to shame.

“I’ll stay here. Thanks...”

Julie nodded before heading out of her room and closing the door behind her leaving Luke to watch the rain fall out of her bedroom window. If it was one thing Luke Patterson knew, it was that Julie Molina was the sun: warm and bright and wonderful.

But, what Luke Patterson didn’t know was that Julie Molina was forming a plan in her head.

Luke began to notice the plan, however, the next night in the kitchen. It was early in the evening after the Molina’s had finished dinner, which the boys were now invited to as Julie’s dad knew about them now (They’d tell him that they can’t eat, but all three of them had decided it was the least they could do after everything he’s done for them; letting them stay and all).

Julie had collected everyone’s plates off of the dining room table and brought them into the kitchen to wash, Luke offered to help, but she refused. So, instead, he just kept her company as she rinsed the plates off in the sink. He perched himself on the kitchen counter next to the plates handing them off to her to make the process quicker.

Just like always, they had slipped into a sort of routine. Julie washed a plat with a dish rag, put it into the dish washer and hand out her hand towards Luke, who already had the plate in her reach. It was seamless, almost like a product line in a factory. That was, until it wasn’t.

Luke had been reaching for another plate beside him when Julie flicked her dish rag at him with a smug smile. Luke still couldn’t feel the water then. He may be visible to the Molinas (Only sometimes, the boys still haven’t figured that out entirely yet), he may be able to pick things up better, but he still couldn’t feel water. He didn't know what it was about tangibility, maybe it just wasn’t their strong suit.

What he did know, was that he felt that Julie’s seemingly spontaneous water fight wasn’t really spontaneous at all and that it had something to do with their conversation yesterday afternoon. Even though Luke saw right through it, he still played along, grabbing a dish towel himself and splashing her right back.

That’s how the kitchen ended up in puddles that night and Julie’s clothes got tighter (Luke felt like the universe was teasing him at that point; showing him things that he couldn’t touch no matter how badly he wanted to).

It become a sort of reoccurrence; The incident in the kitchen. They started out as subtle little things. Splashing him when they sat at a fountain when they were out one day. Flipping her wet hair at him after she came down from showering (which man, did he think he was daydreaming at first).

After those methods didn’t seem to work, though, Julie went bigger. Spraying him with the garden hose, brining out water guns. She tried everything yet nothing she did seemed to work. Luke debated telling her that she should just give up on him; it was never gonna happen.

But then, it did.

Luke had been walking out of the studio after finishing the final touches on a guitar solo for a new Julie and The Phantoms song when something passed through him, making him stop in his tracks.

He swiftly turned around to try and find the object that had passed, but nothing was remnant of the feeling. Because he didn’t see anything alarming, Luke began to make his way towards the house, but the feeling of something passing through him happened again; no objects in sight.

“What the hell is going on?!” Luke shouted. Well, he got is answer alright. Suddenly, Julie had appeared behind one of the bushes in the garden, water balloon in hand.

“Get him!” She commanded as if it were a battle cry. Luke thought then, that maybe it was, because immediately after she had called, Flynn, Carlos, Alex, and Reggie all appeared from different hiding places in the garden as they began throwing their ammo.

Instinctively, Luke threw his hands up in front of him, his leg pulling up in front of his chest too, to shield him from the balloons that inevitably just passed right through him. In that moment of time, everyone forgot, even Luke.

Because the three boys didn’t get wet, it was Julie, Carlos and Flynn who had suffered the consequences, playful yelps sounding from each of them as they were hit. And Luke wasn’t preoccupied enough not to notice. So, he came up with his own game plan--making a run for it towards Julie and stealing her ammo.

In this case, it was an advantage that he wasn’t able to get wet as he ran across the battlefield. Julie had been distracted by Flynn, who had made Julie her new target, which gave Luke the leeway he needed to sneak up behind her and grab a water balloon from the bucket next to her.

He didn’t miss a beat when he catapulted the balloon at her back. She threw her arms up in shock and turned around to face the culprit; drops of water making her face glitter in the sun.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” She yelled at him. Luke held up his hands in defense and widened his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, I’m scared!” He mocked, which was a big mistake because Julie charged towards him after that.

“You should be! Get back here!” She laughed. Luke didn’t take her order, continuing to run laps around the backyard.

“oh I don’t think so! You’ll have to catch me first!” Luke yelled back at her. Julie continued to laugh as she chased after him, Luke joining in too. Neither of them sure how much time had actually passed, Julie finally caught up to Luke and tackled him to the ground.

“Gotcha!” Julie smiled brightly above Luke. Luke realized then how close he was to Julie. Luke’s back had pressed against a tree from Julie’s force while Julie found herself practically straddling Luke, his hands mindlessly placed on her wast, their faces hovering inches apart.

And it was in that moment that Luke had realized something important. He may not be able to feel rain like he used to, but he could feel Julie. He could feel her breath warming his cold skin. Her hands resting on his shoulders. Her legs against his.

He could feel his lips against hers as both of them had began to gravitate towards each other just like they always seem to do.

And as he was kissing her, their bodies moving in sync, his cold breath mixing with her warm, he realized that it had happened.

Luke pulled away from Julie’s lips, his own hurting because of how big he was smiling, and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face as he leaned in and whispered

“You’re my new rain.”

tagging: @moony221b @littledancersun @willexx @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #juke #julie molina x luke patterson #ok now this one is another favorite of mine sakljfh #it look me like 3 days to write which is abnomral #but im working on that skjlhfd #bree writes jatp

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on-maars · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve never had a home (until you came around)

So I wrote a fic, it’s long so maybe you’ll be more comfortable reading it on ao3

Thank you @cyllaeth for being patient enough to re-read the whole thing (and also for being available 24/7 to freak out over these two)

It’s a quiet day. The station is silent and Buck is spread out on the couch, a book in his hand. A mystery book. Chimney recommended it to him the other day but Buck’s never been a big reader, for as long as he can remember. He finds it too hard, to stay focused and stay still for several hours in a row. He needs action. He needs to move, stay busy and as much as he would love to finish this book so he can share his opinions with his friend, today is just not the day.

He’s been feeling restless, fidgety during the whole day and of course it had to happen during one of his most boring shifts. Not that Buck doesn’t appreciate the silence. He does. It actually feels nice to have some time to rest and relax, for a change. He even managed to take a nap in the beginning of the afternoon but now that his batteries are recharged, he’s desperately waiting for a call.

He sighs and tries to bring his attention back to his book but gives up after a few seconds. He’s been reading the same paragraph for more than twenty minutes and if you’d ask him, he would be incapable of telling you what’s the main plot of the book. He sees the words, he reads them but it’s like his brain can’t process a single thing.

He lets the book fall on the couch and sweeps the room with his eyes. There’s Chimney, seated at the kitchen’s table, still reading the same parenting book, a highlighter in his right hand. Hen, who seems as focused as his friend – if not more – her eyes squint in concentration as she writes some words on her notebook, most likely still revising for her big exam coming up. There’s Bobby quietly busying himself in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the whole team.

And then there’s Eddie. Eddie, sprawled on the other side of the sofa, looking at Buck with an amused expression on his face. Buck raises his eyebrows at him in confusion but his best-friend just shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

“I’m bored.” Buck sighs, defeated.

“Just read your damn book, Buckley.” Chimney says from where he’s seated. “I can hear you wriggling on the couch for the past ten minutes, you’re making me nervous.”

Buck rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at his face before taking his cellphone out of his jean’s pocket. There’s a message from Carla and a big smile breaks in on his face when his eyes fall on a picture of a (more than unstable) Lego house, accompanied by a small text.

“Bucky, I just built a new lego house!! (this is Christopher)”

“Looking good, superman!”

“God I love that kid so much.” Buck says, the words coming out of his mouth of their own accord. This earns him a confused look from Eddie who instantly straightens up when Buck lends him his phone, and it only takes a few seconds for a soft smile to appear on his friend’s face as well.

“He just answered.” Eddie adds, handing him his phone back to him.

“Can you come home this week-end so we can build the fire station together?”

“You got it!”

“You can come over on Sunday if you want.” Eddie offers and Buck only nods, mirroring his smile.

“You know I can’t say no to my favorite Diaz.” He answers.

“You’re spoiling him too much.” Eddie reproaches him while nudging him playfully. And Buck doesn’t feel that restless anymore. He feels good, warm, and tries very hard to think about anything else but the intimacy he’s suddenly sharing with his best-friend, whether it be the way their knees touch, the way Eddie’s hand feels on his wrist, his thumb tracing slow circles on his skin, or the way his own heart pound against his chest, so hard and so fast he feels it might explode.

That moment only lasts a few seconds. A couple of minutes, at most, until they all gathered around the table to share lunch. The atmosphere is calm, serene, but Buck’s head is spinning and he’s afraid. Afraid to look up and catch Eddie’s eyes, afraid to do something that can give him away, afraid to say something which may be deemed inappropriate. Because the truth is, when it comes to his best-friend, he doesn’t know what is appropriate and what isn’t anymore. Their relationship has always been very intimate, sure, but it feels to Buck that it has just reached another milestone.

That’s why he’s not prepared when Eddie says these next few words.

“I asked her out. Ana. She said yes.” He says, and Buck’s mind goes blank.

She said yes. Of course she did – he thinks. Who would say no? Who would say no to his kind, sweet, caring and stupidly hot best-friend? They’d be crazy not to – he wants to say, but once again his words get stuck in his throat and he just fakes a smile instead. Faking smiles to avoid any awkward conversations. He can do that. He’s been doing that for years.

“You did?” Hen asks, his eyebrows raised, seemingly surprised.

“That’s… That’s cool man. I guess.” Chimney adds, but the whole atmosphere has changed. It’s not calm anymore. It’s dense, heavy, filled with a sense of bitterness no-one dares to question. It’s common knowledge now that Buck is helplessly and desperately in love with his best-friend, it’s not a secret and Buck gave up on trying to hide it from his colleagues a long time ago. After all, he’s never been very good at keeping this kind of things to himself, never been very subtle, but Eddie is Eddie and Buck doesn’t know if his best-friend’s inability to see the signs comes from a place of denial or simple obliviousness, but what’s the point now? He’s moving on.

“Buck?” Eddie asks and Buck jumps with surprise. He looks up at his best-friend and smiles widely.

“That’s awesome man.” He says, and tries to muster all the confidence he can get, but that’s a wasted effort and his best-friend is already watching him with confusion. Confusion and worry.

“Are you okay?” He asks. And Buck wants to shake his head no. Because of course he isn’t, but what can he say? It’s too late, now. And so he just clears his throat and gets up, ignoring the way Hen looks at him with compassion. “I- I just need some air.” He says, turning around, but stops dead in his track when Eddie’s hand stops him from getting further by encircling his wrist, softly.

“Hey.” Eddie says and his voice is so soft Buck wants to scream. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I just need- I just need some air.” He repeats, and rushes down the stairs.

He steps out of the station and keeps walking until he reaches a small bench. He sits down and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up at the sky, his eyes bright with tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past ten minutes.

“You’re okay, Buck?” Bobby asks from behind, and Buck quickly wipes his tears with the sleeve of his jacket, turning his head around to hide himself from his Captain.

“I’m fine.” He says. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, none of that with me, alright?” Bobby adds, and takes a seat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you just tell him, kid?”

“I never thought I needed to.” Buck answers. And that’s probably the worst part. For a year now, he was convinced that him and Eddie were on the same page. There seemed to be a secret agreement between them and that was enough for Buck.

We’re not together officially but god forbids we date anyone else. That was the deal. Or so he thought. They were raising his son together. Buck was Christopher’s emergency contact, they were practically living together, the signs were there and they were clear. How could Eddie not see them?

“Maybe it’s time you use a more direct approach.”

“I’m not so sure how more direct I can be, Bobby. The guy’s just clueless. I’m pretty sure I could tell him I love him to his face and he would still find a way to make it sound completely platonic.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh. “You really do, don’t you? Love him, I mean.” He asks with a small smile. “I thought it was just a crush but it’s a lot more than that, isn’t it?”

Buck stares at Bobby for a few seconds, until he lowers his head with a sheepish smile.

“Of course it’s more than that.” He says. “Bobby, Christopher and Eddie… They’re it for me. There’ll never be anyone else, I mean it’s Eds, you know? He’s… He’s my soulmate.”

“Then don’t give up until it’s too late, alright?” Bobby answers, holding his gaze. “Cause trust me you still have time.”

Buck doesn’t answer anything and keeps his head down. They sit together for a while until the bell rings. And just like that, Buck puts his feelings aside and focuses on the task at hand.

---

It turns out Ana is great, and that’s probably the worst part now that Buck thinks about it. It would have been easier not to be on board with their relationship if she was inconsiderate, insensitive or straight-up rude. But no. She’s sweet, caring and nothing but kind to him and Buck doesn’t even find it in him to hate her. Eddie seems to love her a whole lot already and if his best-friend loves her, then he owes it to him to be happy for him, right? It only makes sense. What kind of friend would he be otherwise? What kind of friend would that make of him? A poor one, to say the least.

He’s seated at the table in Eddie’s kitchen, Christopher by his side. This one has been strangely quiet for the whole dinner and Buck wonders whether he missed out on something. He’s nibbling at his peas, his eyes fixed on his plate and his usual very cheerful demeanor has been replaced by a sullen one. His shoulders are slumped, but not by choice, Buck knows that kid well enough to see that something is bothering him, something so big he seems to struggle to carry the weight on his own.

“So Buck.” Ana starts and Buck looks up at her with a smile. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh uh we met at work.” He says, finding it weird that she doesn’t already know the answer to that question. “He was a new recruit.”

“He used to hate me.” Eddie says with a smile, nudging him playfully.

“Shut up, I didn’t hate you I was just feeling-”

“Threatened?” Eddie cuts him off, mocking him. Buck huffs out a laugh and cradles his chin with his right hand to make him look away. Because there’s really no need for his best-friend to notice how his cheeks start to redden now, is there?

“You think you’re so funny.” He adds.

“Bucky is dad’s best friend.” Christopher says out of the blue, holding his fork tight around his fingers, his eyes fixed on Ana.

“I thought I was yours!” Buck exclaims, faking being hurt by pressing his hand over his mouth in shock. This earns him a small laugh from Christopher who vigorously nods.

“Well his second best-friend, then.” He corrects himself. “And they love each other very much.” He adds, firmly, almost as if he’s trying to prove a point. Buck frowns for a few seconds but eventually nods at him, making sure Christopher knows he agrees with him on every point.

“We’re all very close.” Buck adds, conversationally.

“The 118 really is like a big family, isn’t it?” Ana asks. “Edmundo talks a lot about you guys.”

Edmundo. That may be the only thing Buck doesn’t like about her and from the way Eddie flinches next to him, he suspects he’s not the only one. He only hums approvingly and lets his eyes fall on his best-friend. He finds it weird, how Eddie acts around Ana. He finds it weird and unsettling. And at first, Buck only thought it was because he was meeting her for the first time and Eddie really wanted both of them to get along. Which made sense. They were best-friends after all, and Buck would probably feel the same way if he was in his shoes.

But now that he takes a closer look at him, Buck realizes that it’s not it. Eddie looks doubtful, hesitant, unsure, almost as if he’s dancing to another tune. He smiles and laughs and acts the same but something just feels off, wrong. It’s like he’s there but not quite, like his brain is working too fast and he has trouble catching up. His gestures lack of confidence, Buck can sometimes see him trying to reach out to Ana but his hand often stops midway, stays motionless for a few seconds until Eddie brings it back on his thigh, biting his lower lip. And Buck gets the willingness to impress the other person and makes sure that everything goes well, but it’s like Eddie is playing a character and that, Buck can’t get behind.

Ana is talking about her role as a vice-principal and Buck is only half-listening, not because the conversation isn’t interesting but because he’s too deep into his thoughts to focus on what she’s saying.

“Dad?” Christopher asks after a while, the slice of prune pie still left untouched on his plate. “Can I go back to my room?”

“Try and eat a bit before, alright?”

“I’m not hungry.” Christopher answers, and Buck holds back a smile when Eddie watches his son with a knowing look. You’re still hungry, you just don’t like the pie Ms Flores baked, don’t try to fool me. That’s what Eddie’s saying; Buck has become an expert in knowing how to understand non-verbal communication between the Diaz boys throughout the years and this time isn’t any different.

“Fine I just don’t like it, it’s gross.” Christopher says, his voice indifferent.

“Christopher!” Eddie exclaims, pointing the finger at him.

“I’m going to my room.” He repeats, getting up and leaving the kitchen without looking back. A heavy silence slowly settles in the kitchen and Buck wastes no time to get up as well.

“I’m gonna check up on him.” He says, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, not missing the way all the tension seems to melt away from his body at the touch.

Buck stands up and lets his hand linger a bit more on Eddie’s back, leaving the kitchen with a sigh. When he gets to Christopher’s room, this one is seated on the ground, his back facing him. A few books are lying around next to him and a whole box of Legos has been spilled on the carpet. Buck takes a few steps forward and knocks on the door a few times, smiling at him when Christopher looks up.

“Hey, is it okay if I come in?” He asks, waiting for Christopher to nod to sit down cross-legged next to him, leaning his back on the bed. “You okay in there, buddy?”

“No.” Christopher’s voice is low and filled with an animosity Buck’s not used to hear.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t like her.” He says, and Buck frowns.

"You don’t like Ms Flores?” He asks, and Christopher nods again, sticking two Legos bricks together. “Why? I thought she was your favorite teacher, back then.”

“She was. I like her as a teacher, not as dad’s girlfriend.” He says. “I don’t understand why she needs to be around all the time. I like it better when it’s just the three of us.”

“I like that too buddy but your dad and her like each other very much, you know? That’s why they’re spending so much time together. But I’m always going to be around, okay? The thing we have, the three of us? It’s not going to go away. I promise. I’ll always be there.” He explains, but from the way Christopher bites his lower lip and keeps his head down, he can see he’s still unsure.

“But I don’t think she makes dad happy, Buck.” He adds.

“You don’t?”

“No. Not as much as you do. He’s always so happy when you’re here. You make him smile, and laugh. I like him better when he’s with you. When he’s with her, he’s weird. He doesn’t act the same way, I don’t like it. And she always uses complicated words and the conversations are boring and she never plays with me. And she doesn’t know how to do the voices when she’s reading a story. You’re the only one who knows how to do it.”

Buck sighs and runs one of his hands through his hair, not knowing how to extricate himself from that situation without giving himself away. Because Christopher might be a kid but he’s far from being stupid, or naive.

“You tried telling what you just told me to your dad?” He tries.

“Why can’t you just be the one who stays?” Christopher asks and ignores his question. “I don’t understand why you can’t be the one who stays.” He repeats and his voice is louder than it was a few seconds ago. “We don’t need her with us, we need you.”

“Chris, your dad and I… We’re best friends. We’re best-friends and we like each other very much but sometimes… Sometimes, a person needs more. Sometimes, it’s not enough.” He says, closing his eyes to try and stay focused.

“But you’re enough!” Christopher says. “You are and I know dad thinks the same. He loves you.”

“He told you that?”

“He doesn’t need to, I just know.” Christopher shrugs his shoulders. “He’s more like himself when he’s with you. He’s smiling and laughing and he’s always looking at you the same way he used to look at mom when she was still around. He doesn’t look at her like this. He never did. And I hope he never does.” He adds and Buck lowers his head down, cursing himself mentally.

“Listen Chris, me and your dad, we… We can’t have what your mom and dad used to have.”

“Why?” He asks, confusion clearly shown on his face.

“Well, because I’m a man and-”

“But if he’s looking at you the same way he used to look at mom, why does it matter if you’re a man or not? My friend Amy at school, she has two dads. I know it’s possible, and you love my dad. I know you do.”

“I-” Buck tries but his words get stuck in his throat once again, and he never thought a nine-year-old kid would manage to back him into a corner like that and yet here he is. “It’s – It’s complicated, buddie.”

“It’s not. It’s only complicated because you’re an adult and adults always like to say that everything is complicated when they don’t want to explain stuff to kids. But it’s not. It’s easy. You’re always looking at him. When you come for the movie nights, you’re always the one who make dinner for us because we love your cooking. You hug him every time you leave our house and you do the same things with me that mom used to do. You’re helping me with my homework, you’re telling me a story every time I go to bed and you’re always making me feel better when I’m sad.”

“When did you become so smart?” Buck asks, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“So you do love him.” Christopher says. “You love my dad.” He adds, placing one of his hands on Buck’s cheek.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes but you said I was smart. If you think I’m smart, then it means I’m right. You love my dad.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and smiles when Christopher wraps both of his arms around his neck.

“If you love him, you should tell him.” He says. “Carla always tells me that if you love someone, then you should tell them.”

“And I should listen to Carla, right?” Buck asks.

“You should always listen to Carla.” Christopher rectifies. “That’s what my dad says.”

“Alright then.” He answers, tousling his hair. “Then I’ll try. I promise.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell him anything.”

–--

When Buck gets back to the living-room, Ana is gone and Eddie is back to his usual self. Disheveled hair, his sleeves rolled up and the few first buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. His posture is more relaxed and natural, the tension has disappeared from his shoulders and it’s like he’s breathing again.

He’s clearing the table and Buck joins him, wiping the plates and the silverware while Eddie handles the washing part.

“Ana left?”

“She did, I- I kinda asked her to, I wanted to make sure Christopher’s okay.” Eddie says, his voice filled with worry. “He doesn’t like her very much, does he?”

“It’s- It’s not that.” Buck says, trying to figure out what’s the best way to act right now. “He’s just… He’s just adjusting, Eds, and- you don’t need to rush into this, you know?”

“You think I’m rushing into this?” Eddie asks, looking up at him in search of reassurance.

Buck sighs and looks down at the plate in his hands, wondering what to say. Telling him the truth is not an option, at least not right now. He can see his best-friend’s head is filled with unanswered questions and doubts and the last thing Buck wants is to give him another reason to panic and overthink, and saying I’m in love with you and I really wish you would stop trying so hard to play a role that doesn’t look anything like you when you’re with her because it’s making me everyone uncomfortable is probably not the way to go.

“Maybe?” Buck says, carefully.

“Buck.” Eddie starts, exasperated. “Straight to the point, please?”

“Look, I… I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove, here.” He answers, placing the dried plate in the cupboard.

“I’m not trying to prove anything, but Bobby told me I should start taking advantages of the opportunities that are right in front of me and that’s what I’m doing. I’m dating Ana. She’s nice. I like her.”

“Who are you trying to convince here, me or yourself?” Buck asks. “He really said that? Bobby, I mean? And you think he was talking about Ana?”

“Well if not her, who else? She was right in front of me during that call.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It’s like the universe is screaming at you. And you refuse to listen. That’s what he said to him that day and Buck has to refrain himself from repeating these exact same words.

“Listen Eds. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to pretend to be someone that you’re not when you’re with her. You shouldn’t have to do that for a relationship to work. And I get it. I do. I get the will to impress her but that’s not what this is about here, Eds.” He says. “Christopher sees it too, you know.”

Eddie whirls his head around. “He said that to you?”

“Not in these actual words.” Buck precises. “But that was the overall idea, I think.” He adds. “It’s a big change for him, I guess he just needs time to… To adjust.”

“Should I go talk to him?” Eddie asks and that’s just another thing that makes Buck want to scream. The way Eddie always comes to him for parental advice as if Buck’s as involved in raising Christopher as he is, as if Buck is as entitled as he is to take decisions concerning Christopher’s well being. It makes him hope for something bigger, makes him hope for something greater, makes him hope for something he knows he can’t have.

“I don’t know Eds.” He still says after a while. “He probably needs some time alone.”

“Alright.” Eddie agrees, leaning against the kitchen counter, the dish towel placed on his right shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Well I should probably head back.” Buck says with a smile. “I’m pretty tired and it’s a big shift tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.” Eddie answers and wraps his arms around his back to bring him closer. Buck rests his chin on his right shoulder and closes his eyes for a few seconds, sighing in relief. Because as much as he would like for them to stop being so intimate, a part of him is simply always going to be drawn to him, and when Eddie moves his hand from his back to his neck, letting his fingers play with the roots of his hair, Buck is pretty sure the universe is ganging up against him.

---

It starts slowly, so slowly Buck doesn’t really think anything of it, at first. After all, it’s only texts. Texts that Eddie doesn’t answer to, texts that Eddie ignores. It’s nothing much, nothing worth arguing over and the last thing Buck wants is to sound possessive or excessive, and so he says nothing.

But then days turn into weeks and it’s just not texts anymore, it’s calls that are ignored, movie nights that are canceled and Buck tries to stay calm, he tries very hard to stay calm and clear-headed but he can’t shake off the feeling that he’s being left out from what used to be his safe place. And that’s something Buck could have handled, that’s something Buck could have faced but what’s intolerable for him is that he promised Christopher that things would never change, that he wouldn’t go away, and yet that’s exactly what’s happening. And Buck hates himself for it.

“It’s not gonna last.” Hen says one day when they’re both seated at the kitchen’s table inside the fire station. They had shared a lunch together and Eddie had taken the opportunity to formally introduce Ana to the team. Nothing quite out of the ordinary – Buck thinks, if it isn’t for the fact that once again, Eddie didn’t look like himself the whole time Ana was there. “I mean don’t get me wrong Ana’s awesome but that’s just not gonna last.” She repeats, once Eddie left the station to walk Ana back to her car.

“Ditto.” Chimney only says as he’s taking a seat next to them. “There’s no chemistry there, trust me.”

“So it’s like that, now?” Buck asks with a knowing smile. “You have a kid and all of a sudden you’re an expert in loving relationships?”

“You really don’t need to be an expert to see that it’s not gonna work.” Hen intervenes. “What are your thoughts, Cap?”

“If this is something Eddie wants to pursue then we should trust his judgment.” Bobby says carefully but the hesitant expression on his face says otherwise.

“But?” Hen asks. “We get it you’re nice but tell us what you really think.”

“Well let’s just say when I told Eddie to take advantage of the opportunities that were right in front of him, I didn’t necessarily mean Ana.” He admits, his eyes on Buck.

Buck shrugs his shoulders and looks down with a sad smile. “Yeah no offense but I don’t think he got that part, Cap.”

“He will.” Bobby affirms.

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that.” Buck contradicts him. “She’s already more around than me and I- Look I promised Christopher I wouldn’t go anywhere cause he’s freaking out about the whole thing but this is exactly what’s happening right now. He’s moving on. And there’s no place for me there anymore, which – you know – it’s fine. I should have seen this coming. But it still hurts, and I don’t mind me hurting but I know Christopher’s hurting as well and that I- I can’t stand it, Cap. I just can’t.”

“Then tell him, Buck.” Bobby advises. “Tell Eddie.”

“Tell me what?” Eddie says from behind. Buck whirls his head around but it doesn’t seem like Eddie heard more than that and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“I just-” Buck stops mid-sentence and only goes on when Hen sends him an encouraging smile. “I was just wondering if we could do something with Christopher someday. It’s been a while and… Well I miss the kid.” He adds and Eddie’s face instantly softens.

“Of course we can. You have anything in mind?”

“Well there’s this space museum not far from here. It’s still a one hour drive but you know I- I figured we could give it a try.” Eddie smiles and instantly nods, taking his phone from his back pocket.

“Great. I’ll ask Ana if she’s down for it.”

As soon as these few words are out in the open, a heavy silence settles in the room. Buck bites his lower lip and looks down at his feet with a sigh, Chimney snorts and Hen lifts her hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

“… Or not.” Eddie says after he reads the room, putting his phone down on the table. “Just the three of us?” He asks and Buck looks up at him with a hopeful expression.

“If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay Buck, I-” Eddie starts and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?”

Buck dismisses it with a hand’s gesture. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Eddie says, shaking his head. “It’s not and I’m sorry.” He adds. “Can you… Can you guys give us a moment?” He asks, and Hen instantly gets up and gestures at Chimney to do the same. When Buck turns his head, they’re both gone and Bobby is already seated in his office, probably busy with some paperwork. He’s alone with Eddie. “Alright I’m listening.”

“Listening to what?” Buck asks him, confused.

“Listening to you telling me how much I fucked up as a friend.”

“You didn’t fuck u-”

“Buck.” Eddie cuts him off, firmly resolved to hear what’s on Buck’s mind. Buck holds his gaze for a few seconds, looking for a way out, but looks down and sighs in defeat.

“Eddie it’s fine.” He says. “You were probably busy with Ana and I know what it’s like to have the impression that your life only resolved around the other person at first, it’s- As I said. It’s fine. And you know I probably should have seen thi-”

“No.” Eddie cuts in again, placing one of his hands on Buck’s shoulder. “You’re not getting out of that one by blaming yourself, okay? Now tell me. What did I do wrong?”

“You ignored my texts.” Buck says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s not a big deal but Eddie keeps staring at him and encouraging him to say more and what the hell? - Buck thinks. His best-friend is the one looking for confrontation here and he’d be damned if he didn’t take the opportunity to get it all of his chest. “You ignored my calls.” He adds. “You canceled movie nights two times because you had plans with Ana – which is fine cause you’re allowed to do that but damn Eddie, Christopher made me promise that I wouldn’t go anywhere, he made me promise that things wouldn’t change if you started dating Ana and look at us, now. I’m barely coming over to your house anymore. It’s been one week and a half since I last saw him and you know damn well that I love this kid like he was my own and I hate myself for letting him go through that.”

“What else?” Eddie asks, his eyes already bright with tears.

“You shut me out, Eddie.” Buck answers, looking up at him, his eyes filled with a determination that scares him. “You shut me out.” He repeats but slower, this time.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Lonely.” Buck answers honestly. “Angry. Sad. Confused. But mostly lonely.”

“Why is that?” Eddie asks and Buck huffs out a laugh, looking up at him incredulously.

“What do you think?” He answers and his tone comes out harsher than he intended and Eddie looks up at him in surprise. “I’ve never had a home, Eddie.” He adds, and his voice breaks. “I’ve never had a home until you came around. Even with my parents I felt like a stranger in my own house. And I know I said that the 118 has always felt like a family to me and I mean it but you and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.” Buck says. "I mean I- I love you, alright?”

“And we love you too.” Eddie answers, cupping his cheeks with his hands. “We do, and you’re always going to be a part of this family, okay? I promise. I’m sorry I acted like a jerk.” He adds, bringing his lips to his forehead and Buck swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the touch. “Listen I promised Ana I would get dinner with her tonight but how do you feel about spending some time with Christopher?”

“I’d like that.” Buck says with a smile.

“I promise I won’t be long” Eddie adds. “And tomorrow we can go to that space museum. Just the three of us. Deal?”

“Deal.”

---

When Eddie goes back home after their shit, he has to witness Buck breaking down in tears and hugging Christopher close to his chest. Christopher had his eyes closed and from the way he’s clinging on to Buck, there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that Buck’s absence had left a large void in his son’s life. And his heart breaks at the sight.

Bucky you’re home – Christopher had said to him, his chin rested on his right shoulder.

You’re home – Eddie repeats quietly to himself as he makes his way over to Ana’s house. He knocks on the door a few times and smiles at her when she opens it, taking a step to the side to let him in. She guides him to the couch and immediately starts to talk about his day as a vice-principal, which is usually something Eddie would try and listen with the greatest attention, but not today. Not today. Today, Christopher and Buck’s words are being played over and over again in his head and Eddie’s mind is a thousand miles away from that room.

Bucky you’re home.

I’ve never had a home until you came around.

You and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.

I’m not home – Eddie suddenly thinks to himself.

“I’m sorry?” Ana asks, confused and Eddie whirls his head around when he realizes he just said those words out loud. “You’re not home?”

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Home. It became such a strange concept for Eddie along the years. A constant evolution. In the first few years of his life, home was wherever his parents were. His childhood house, a cabin in the mountains during Christmas’ holiday, a tent in the middle of the forest. It didn’t matter where he was, as long as he was there with his parents, and his sisters.

And then he met Shannon and suddenly the word ‘home’ wasn’t only resolving around his parents and his sisters anymore. It became a bit larger to include her and then Christopher. His son was already his whole world back then and Eddie would have done anything for him.

But then Afghanistan happened and his life in Texas started to be tainted by arguments and harsh words. And so Eddie fled, convincing himself that maybe the army could become his new home. But god, was he wrong, and he quickly was hit by the realization that he would never really be home if Christopher wasn’t by his side.

And sure he considers the 118 as his family but his home? His home is with Christopher.

Eddie doesn’t really know when Buck first entered into the equation.

Maybe it’s when he first met Chris and that these two instantly hit it off. Maybe it’s when Buckley-Diaz movie nights became a thing. Maybe it’s when Buck helped him build a skateboard for his son or maybe it’s when he saved him from a tsunami.

Maybe it’s a combination of all these examples and a thousand more, and to be perfectly honest Eddie doesn’t really care because Buck is there now and he doesn’t want him going anywhere.

After all, people always say that home is where the heart is.

And Eddie’s heart? Eddie’s heart is with Buck. With Christopher first, but then Buck.

So no. “I’m not home.” Eddie repeats, his eyes lowered to the ground. “I – I’m sorry Ana but I – I can’t do this anymore. Us. It’s not going to work. I wanted it to work and I thought it would but it won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Edmundo.” Ana sighs, placing her hand on his thigh.

“Eddie.” He answers. “It’s Eddie. Not Edmundo.” He adds. “I really am sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, you’ve almost been perfect but-”

“But I can’t compete with him.” She finishes for him and Eddie whirls his head around, his eyes wide.

“How can you- you’ve only seen him twice.”

“Then it must really says a lot about what he feels about you.” Ana answers, smiling sadly. "He looks at you like you’re his whole world. And sometimes, you’re looking at him the exact same way.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, sighing. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m sorry I swear I didn’t mean to lead you on, I really thought I was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t, and to be perfectly honest with you, Ana, I haven’t – I haven’t really been myself around you. You make me nervous all the time and I feel like – I feel like I have to become someone else when I’m with you. At first I thought it was just the nerves of starting a new relationship but… But weeks passed and it’s still there. I’m trying too hard and I’m not sure – I’m not sure it’s the right way to go.” He admits. “With him, it’s easy. It’s always been easy and maybe that’s the problem. It’s always been so easy that I – that I never took the time to wonder if there was something more going on.”

“And there is?” Ana smiles at him and this time it’s not sad, it’s sincere, honest.

“I think so.” Eddie admits, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, of course there is. Definitely.”

“Then you should go tell him that.” Ana answers.

“I can stay.” Eddie instantly says. “We had planned this for a while and I”

“You want to be with him.” She cuts him off. “Edm – Eddie. I love you. But if your happiness lies with him then I’m not going to put myself between you and him. Go.” She adds, and seems taken aback when Eddie wraps his arms around her back. She rests her chin on his shoulder and lets herself enjoy the intimacy.

“We can finish that conversation anytime, alright?” Eddie says, standing up. “We could get a coffee next week and get everything off our chests once and for all. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” Ana smiles.

Eddie waves at her one last time and rushes out of the house. He steps in his truck and starts driving. His head is spinning and his heart is pounding against his chest but he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. This is what’s been missing. This is what’s been missing all these years. Buck. The missing part of the puzzle.

Eddie parks next to Buck’s car and stays motionless for a while before feeling brave enough to get out of his truck and walks towards his house. He stops at the front door and closes his eyes, only for a few seconds. He takes a deep breath and lowers the handle. He steps in and here he is. Buck. His best-friend is standing up behind the kitchen’s counter, seemingly busing preparing pizza dough.

It’s only when Eddie closes the door behind him that Buck looks up at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Eddie?” He asks. “I thought you had a date night with Ana.”

“I did.” Eddie says with a smile. He takes a few steps towards him. “I cut it short.”

“Why?” Buck is still frowning but Eddie can note a slight glimmer of hope crossing his eyes.

“She wasn’t the person I wanted to spend the evening with.” Eddie only says and before he knows it, he’s pressing Buck against the fridge, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss. His left hand cradles his chin and he places the other on the back of his neck. A startled noise comes out of Buck’s mouth but it only takes him a few seconds to kiss him back with just as much passion, his thumbs on his cheeks and the rest of his fingers running through his hair. Eddie smiles against his lips and moves his hands from his face to his waist, bringing him closer.

When they break apart, Buck’s hair is disheveled, his cheeks red and his lips swollen and Eddie huffs out a small laugh, his right hand grabbing onto his shirt tight, his eyes closed.

“God I’ve been so stup-”

“Shut up.” Buck cuts him off by pressing their lips together another time. The kiss is gentler this time, slower, and when Buck pulls at his hair a bit, Eddie can’t stop a small whimper from slipping out past his lips. “Wait.” Buck says, pushing him a little by placing his hand on his chest. “What about Ana?”

“I broke up with her.” Eddie instantly says, chasing his lips another time but Buck is faster and stops him from doing so by changing their positions and being the one having him pressed against the fridge.

“Why?” Buck asks.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Eddie answers so simply and that seems to be enough for Buck who lashes forward and crashes their lips together and Eddie would lie if he said he didn’t like being pressed against the fridge like that. He moves his mouth from Buck’s lips to his jaw, his neck, but stops dead in his track when a voice resonates from behind.

“You did it.” Christopher says and they jump away from each other, getting the creases out of their shirts in embarrassment. Eddie’s eyes fall on Christopher but his son only has eyes for Buck. “You told him.” He adds and a large smile breaks in on his face.

“I did.” Buck answers and huffs out a laugh when Christopher comes to him and wraps his arms around his legs. He takes him in his arms and hugs him, his eyes still fixed on Eddie.

I’ll explain later – Buck mouths to him silently with a smile.

Eddie only nods and his face softens when Christopher buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck. It only lasts a few seconds, though, and when his son’s eyes fall on him, a small laugh escapes his lips.

“Dad, you have flour all over your hair.” He says, and Eddie runs his hands in his curls, smiling when the white powder falls on the flour. Buck looks up at him and smiles apologetically at him but Eddie dismisses it with a hand’s gesture and wraps his arms around the both of them. He sighs in relief and breathes in the scent of Buck’s after shave and Christopher’s shampoo and thinks to himself:

This is exactly where I want to be.

“Welcome back home, Buck.”

#buddie #9-1-1 #buddie fic #911 #my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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blackbutterfliescal · 4 years ago

Text

Your Rainbow Will Coming Smiling Through

A Michael Clifford One Shot

Pairing: Single Dad!Michael Clifford & OC Zoey Clifford

Word count: 4.8K

Rating: Mostly fluff with a side of angst

Requested by: Absolutely not a goddamn soul. I’m just here to be soft n emo, I guess.

Content: 3rd person POV, OC Zoey as Michael’s daughter, major character death (main character’s spouse is dead), side of Malum because I couldn’t help myself

A/N: This is based on Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Cinderella” and it’s lived in my head for a long time. The title is based on lyrics from “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” from Disney’s Cinderella. I don’t normally engage with a lot of dad!sos content for personal reasons, but this idea has lived in my head rent free for far too long so I hope you like it! Big big thank you to @devilatmydoor and @spicycal for encouraging me to get this one done!! It’s only taken me a month lmao

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———

Dinner had been an event. It seemed like it was always an event these days. Pasta noodles and vegetables hung from the walls in the small eat-in kitchen, reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock. Michael let out a deep sigh and ran a hand across his tired face. He’d been so sure that the new recipe would be a hit, but his headstrong three year old had dashed that hope almost immediately. Since quarantine began a few weeks ago, she’d grown bored of staying home and had begun to take her frustrations out on the only other person around. Each day in the modest apartment brought a new challenge but the theme this week was picky eating habits. Michael had tried old favorites, trendy recipes from mommy bloggers, and he’d even let Zoey pick what he bought at the grocery. Honestly, he’d tried anything and everything if he thought it meant she wouldn’t fight him at every meal.

Michael picked up the plates from the table, scraping the few bites that weren’t subjected to his daughter’s wrath into the trashcan by the door. As the dishes landed in the small sink and Michael turned on the tap, he bent forward to rest his forearms on the counter. One glance around the warzone kitchen had tears stinging his eyes. He fought to keep them from falling to no avail, eyes blurring as the droplets got lost in the flowing water and spiraled down the drain.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. We were supposed to be in this together,” Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper as his thoughts raced and he struggled to compose himself. His voice came out coarse as his frustrated cries hung in the air until it became too thick to breathe in. “It’s been nearly ten months and I’m still no good without you. Zoey’s just like you and I need you here.” He’d hoped setting his thoughts free might ease his mind, but it only made the words weigh heavier on his slumped shoulders. Michael’s pleas were desperate through the sobs. “I wish you were here. You’d know exactly what to do. You always did.” He was barely thirty when he’d been made a widower, carrying the constant grief of a life unlived, seeing a shadow where there should have been a spouse.

He’d been told repeatedly that things would get easier with time but he didn’t think there’d ever be a day where he didn’t need her, didn’t see her in their baby girl. He pulled himself upright with a deep inhale, using the back of his hand to wipe tear stains from his cheeks. Michael couldn’t stop the incessant sniffling brought on by the tears while he continued to take steady breaths through his mouth. He pulled all his focus to wash the few dishes still left from the night and placed them in the drying rack before shutting off the tap. He wrung out the dish towel and began using it to scrub down the mess on the walls. Their dogs seemed to have made quick work of cleaning up the peas that got sprayed across the tiled floor while Michael cleaned up Zoey in the bath and he assumed they’d already made their way to her room.

Through a few small, shaky inhales, he heard a familiar tune playing from the other end of the hallway. After tossing the bits of dinner that he’d pulled off the wall into the bin, he closed the lid and hung the dish towel across the faucet to dry. He quietly made his way to Zoey’s room as the music grew louder, sparing a quick glance in the hall mirror so his disheveled state didn’t alarm Zoey.

He had forgotten that he’d placed an old CD player in her room with several of his old favorites in a small case. Every now and then she liked to listen to his CDs while she played. She usually needed her dad to help her turn it on but it seemed she’d found the play button on her own and begun the same tunes they’d danced to earlier that week. Her curls, still mildly damp from her bath after the messy dinner, bounced around her round face as she spun in circles and giggles fell from her mouth freely. She’d slipped a sparkly dress-up outfit over her pajamas and the matching tiara had almost completely slipped free from her hair. Michael noticed both dogs intently watched from the bed and he let a bittersweet smile tug at his lips while she twirled around the room. Zoey reminded him most of her late mother when she smiled and it made his heart swell, reminding him that she wasn’t completely gone.

When Zoey looked up and noticed him in the doorway, a delighted squeal came from her mouth. “Daddy!! C’mon, I need you! There’s a ball at the castle and I’ve been invited and I need to practice my dancing. Please! Daddy, please!” She wrapped both of her hands around Michael’s fingers and tugged him to the middle of the carpet as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Once she was satisfied with where he stood, she steadied herself and placed her bare feet on top of his shoes, reaching out to grab his other hand. His grip on her was secure as he moved the two of them around merrily, careful not to let her slip from her place on top of his feet. Since losing Zoey’s mom, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let the little moments pass him by. He knew that someday, much sooner than he’d like, someone would steal his little girl’s heart away from him but he wanted to cherish every moment until then. Even if it did include meal-time tantrums.

The upbeat track faded out, replaced by soft guitar chords and a sweetly crooning melody. In one smooth motion, Michael lifted Zoey into his arms and began to sway with her. Her petite hand landed against his warm cheek as she met his green eyes. She studied him for a beat before he rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes fall shut. As Michael began to sing along softly, Zoey pulled away from his face and adjusted herself down to rest against his chest. He nuzzled her close and smiled at the memory that her mother had always found a calmness in the way his voice vibrated through his chest as well.

“Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

It had been an exhausting evening and it didn’t take long for familiar snores to fill the air from where Zoey rested beneath his chin. He smiled and silently thanked the universe that the last song on the album had been a ballad. Careful not to wake her, he kept a gentle rock in his measured steps as he clicked off the lights through the apartment. Making his way back into her room, he lifted the light blue covers on her small bed while the dogs shifted toward the far end. When he tried to slide her onto the pillow, Zoey’s grip on his shirt tightened and she let out a sleepy groan. Michael shushed her sweetly with a lighthearted laugh and pulled her back into him. He reached down again to pull the covers back further, causing both dogs to move to the floor with a huff, before slipping between them and letting her rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He covered them both and began to hum the sweet melody once more, letting the combination of his voice and heartbeat lull his daughter to sleep again. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to a much-needed night of rest.

———

With a contented sigh, Zoey placed her new boots on the floor, lining them up to sit below the dress hanging on a singular coat hook on the wall to the right of her closet.

She’d spent nearly every weekend for the past month piled into her dad’s car with her friends, scouring every dress shop in the city. In typical Zoey fashion, she wasn’t interested in an oversized dress with heels that she’d ultimately kick off after the first song played. Somewhere around the fourth store - or maybe fifth? - her friend had shoved her into a fitting room with an understated black a-line they’d picked for her. Though she wasn’t typically a fan of lace or tulle, she knew it was the one she’d spent her time looking for. She knew the lace appliques delicately placed across the neckline would soften up the leather boots and jacket she was already planning to wear.

She pulled one bare foot underneath her and plopped down on her bed, queuing up a lowkey playlist and admiring the outfit she’d put together. She could admit that it was nice to check the prom dress off her to-do list but the centerpiece of the outfit was her mom’s vintage leather jacket. Her dad had gifted it to her years ago, telling her about how excited her mother had been to save up for a real leather jacket and how she’d shopped through every store in the city to find the right one. Not unlike the way he’d seen Zoey searching for the right prom dress.

Of course, Zoey didn’t have many memories of her mom, except for the stories Michael had told her over the years. Somehow, things like her mother’s old leather jacket, still in great condition, made her feel connected to the woman she barely remembered. Zoey often wondered how she could miss someone she couldn’t remember on her own. Maybe some of it was secondhand grief from years of watching her father. Either way, she always felt too nervous to actually wear her mom’s jacket, afraid she’d do something to ruin it, wrecking the already thin tie she had to her. While Michael had always done his best to fill both parental roles, some problems were bigger than he could handle alone. On difficult nights when she needed a mom, Zoey dug the jacket out of the closet and just held it close, hoping to find some guidance from whatever cosmic forces were out there. Now, she’d decided, prom was as good an occasion as any to actually wear it out. It was a big night and she wanted to feel both of her parents there.

As she picked up her laptop to tackle the last few assignments of senior year, Michael’s knuckles rapped on the open door that led to her room. The sound pulled her from her reverie and she glanced up to see her dad in the doorway. Michael, mid-40s, donned large wide-rimmed glasses and his hair was cut short around his face. His natural shade had lightened quite a bit over the years while the ever-present scruff on his chin had taken on shining grey tones. He smiled fondly, taking in the outfit Zoey had put together as it hung on the wall before turning to meet her expectant gaze. Her smile beamed as she questioned, “Do you like it? Do you think Allison will like it? Her dress is baby pink so we’re going to be the least coordinated couple there. But I guess that’s fitting.” A small laugh fell from her mouth as she looked back at the all black ensemble. Michael still heard Zoey’s mom in that laugh and felt a pull in his chest seeing that jacket again. He nodded in response before pointing to the quilted leather. “She’d be so proud of you, you know?” His voice held a tinge of sadness amidst the pride he held for his baby girl.

“No!! No, no no. Don’t cry. You know that only ends with both of us crying!” Zoey slid the laptop to the side and made her way to the man occupying her door frame. He let out a sniffing laugh and shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around him while burying her head in his broad chest. Michael rested his head on top of hers before placing a small kiss on top of her hair. He’d always made sure that she felt safe with him. No matter what was going on elsewhere, it was the two of them versus the world. But damn it all if he didn’t wish that she had her mom here to see the amazing young woman she’d become.

Zoey’s playlist continued quietly and Michael began to rock back and forth as she relaxed into his arms. He knew moments like this would only get harder to come by in a few short weeks. She’d grown up in the blink of an eye, right in front of him. He wanted to keep her close as long as he could. It didn’t matter that dinner was downstairs, getting colder by the minute. Slowly, “Moon River” crept through the speakers and Zoey pulled her head back. “Wait a minute. This is the song we have to dance to,” she whispered. The smile on her face shifted from sweet to teasing and Michael braced for whatever quick-witted remark she had for him. “We gotta work on your moves, old man!” Michael rolled his eyes in response and let out a sarcastic laugh at her words. “Dad, the prom is just one week away and we need to practice our dancing. Please, daddy, please.”

It was custom that each senior waltzed with a parent, or some other guardian, at the very beginning of the prom. Families were only allowed in during this dance and would be ushered out after every group of seniors had taken their turn. Michael and Zoey had been at every after school rehearsal for the past 6 weeks, trying desperately to learn the choreographed steps. Zoey had mastered the box steps with ease. The turning box took a few more tries, but she got it eventually. Michael had taken even more practice though, and she was determined they would perfect the steps before they were in front of all her friends. He didn’t object, not wanting to embarrass her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Michael stepped further into his daughter’s room, helping her push a few things out of the way as she started the song over and stood tall in her ballroom posture. Michael took small steps but still managed to run into a few things as Zoey coached him through the routine. They made it through to the end of the song unscathed and upright, counting that as a victory.

As Zoey let her rigid posture drop, Michael placed both of his hands on each side of her head, pulling her close again to place another kiss on top of her head. “We’ve got this, Z,” he reassured her. She snaked her arms around to his back as the next song on her playlist began. They stood still in the silence as a familiar voice began to croon through the air. “Do you remember that I used to sing this to you to get you to sleep? It always did the trick after a rough day,” Michael mused as his hands brushed over her hair, reminiscing on days gone by. She leaned back to look up at her dad’s face before answering. “Of course I do! Why do you think I listen to it so often?”

The greying scruff on Michael’s chin made her giggle as it tickled her forehead where he left a kiss. “My sweet girl,” he mused as they began to sway again. She hummed along with the melody before Michael joined in, smooth voice lilting over the recording.

“Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart. For it’s there that I belong and will never part. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For my darling, I love you and I always will.”

In true Clifford fashion, Zoey’s stomach rumbled through the otherwise quiet bedroom as the next verse began. It sent both of them into a fit of laughter, reminding Michael of the reason he came up to her room in the first place - the dinner waiting downstairs. Zoey stopped her playlist before they made their way to the kitchen, voicing their concerns that the cats had jumped up on the counter to help themselves.

———

Zoey couldn’t help the smile stretched across her full cheeks as she parked her car in front of her father’s home. As she reached for the door handle, her free hand lifted the back of her fiancée’s palm to her cherry chapstick-covered smile and she placed a series of small kisses. Allison’s warm eyes met Zoey’s gaze with a blissful smile of her own before she spoke hesitantly. “The last planning session before everything is in motion. Ready for all the questions from Mr. Wedding Planner in there?” Zoey’s eyebrows quirked up and she reached behind the seats to pull out her planning binder. “Ready if you are!” They stepped out of the car and laughter followed them through the front door to announce their arrival.

The butterflies in Zoey’s stomach hadn’t diminished even slightly since the moment Allison got down on one knee during family game night. Though if Zoey honestly thought about it, the butterflies had been there since she worked up the nerve to ask Allison to prom as her girlfriend. She hoped she’d have the flutter in the pit of her stomach as long as she had air in her lungs.

The proposal had been intimate and thoughtful and sweet and perfectly them. Allison had enlisted Michael’s help, along with his long-term partner Calum, to spell out “marry me” on the game board during Scrabble. The three of them had needed to work together and it had taken a couple rounds of play for the right letters to show up. Zoey was so engrossed in the game that it took her a few beats to piece it together, even as Allison dropped to the floor in front of her while Michael tried to keep the happy tears from falling. Since then, the days had been speeding by at a dizzying pace and she felt like the big day would sneak up on her if she blinked too slowly.

They made their way through the home, cast in an amber glow from the autumn sunset, and found Michael and Calum putting the finishing touches on their typical Tuesday night dinner. Michael had always been a good cook but he’d thrown himself into more complex recipes with the extra time he had in his early retirement. The delicious aroma wafted through the open air to greet the brides-to-be as they exchanged familiar greetings with the gracefully greying men, arms held open expectantly.

“I see someone came prepared,” Calum teased, pointing in the direction of Zoey’s wedding planning binder. “I learned from the best,” she winked in return. Calum had earned his living as an event planner before retiring to spend his days with Michael and he’d been all too eager to help out. Sometimes he was a little overzealous, especially when it came to flowers, but neither bride worried over it. He had thirty-something years of experience and they would put his expertise to good use as long as he wanted to help.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You know better than to be shy around here - dig in!” Michael’s cheerful lilt brought out a chorus of laughter as the four of them began to pile their plates high with his savory creations.

Dinner together was never dull; someone always had a story to tell. Allison was gunning for a big promotion at work while Zoey worked hard to manage the small business she started last year. Michael told of all the highs and lows in his cooking adventures that week and how he’d befriended a neighborhood cat that had appeared on their porch. Calum had warned him not to feed it but eventually found the bowl under the front steps that he’d been sneaking scraps into. In the years they’d lived together, Calum made the local farmer’s market a habit and that week Michael had finally gone with him. He should have known Calum would have everyone wrapped around his finger. He couldn’t help his amazement at the way Calum charmed all the vendors into some sort of special sale for his produce, flowers, or baked goods. He noticed that Calum was the only one who seemed to be privy to these discounts. Michael couldn’t even be upset though because Calum had gotten a beautiful sunflower bouquet just for him. Calum would never admit that he just wanted to know he still had it - whatever it was.

With four sets of hands, clean up happened quickly before the wedding binder was sprawled across the table. They spent the next few hours pouring over choices for every imaginable detail. Calum had helped them create a checklist and prioritize important items and extremely time sensitive details. They managed to cross off a few more items on the checklist before Michael decided it was time to bring out dessert - apple pie with the tart apples from the “Apple of My Pie” stall that Calum had recommended at the farmer’s market.

When she was sure Michael was out of earshot, Zoey leaned across the table to whisper to Calum. “So when are we doing this for you two?” she asked as she threw a glance at her dad’s back. Allison did her best to control her laughter at the obvious prying. Calum simply waved her off with a smile, “We’ve been together, what, twelve years? Just after you started college? I think he’s stuck with me at this point, ring or no ring.” Zoey’s inquisitive stare didn’t falter at Calum’s light humor so he continued to entertain her question with a more serious tone. “You know… we’ve talked about it but he always said he couldn’t remarry after losing your mom. I always thought I wanted a wedding, even just a small one for friends and family, but it’s one thing I won’t push him about.” Calum’s eyes were filled with adoration as they settled on Michael’s back where he stood carefully slicing the pie. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll take this in whatever way makes him comfortable, in whatever way he’ll have me.”

When he turned back to face her, to see if his answer satisfied her curiosity, her eyes were brimming with emotion and concern immediately painted his features before she spoke. “I always thought maybe he didn’t remarry because of me, because he didn’t want me to feel left behind or something. And maybe that’s selfish or strange. But I couldn’t be more thankful that he has someone as caring and thoughtful as you, Cal.” Her voice had a slight rasp to it as she swallowed down her overwhelming joy. She punctuated her sentiment by placing her hands over one of his on the table. As he sandwiched her hands between his, he told her how lucky he felt to get to spend the rest of life loving Michael and that he didn’t need a marriage certificate to do that. Allison placed a grounding hand across Zoey’s back as they all inconspicuously sat back into their seats just in time for Michael to return with apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. If he suspected anything about the conversation between his daughter and his partner, he didn’t let on as they continued to make their way down the wedding checklist between delighted mouthfuls of pie.

The hours passed as they sat around the kitchen table picking out scripts for the invites, flowers for the ceremony, centerpieces for the reception, and favors for the wedding party. Allison stretched her arms over her head, soliciting several put off responses at the loud cracking noise her spine made. “Ew, yourself,” she joked as she rose from her spot at the table. As she moved toward the living room, she turned over her shoulder to suggest that they all take a break from hunching over the pages of options laid out in the binder. Everyone else seemed reluctant, not wanting to lose the momentum they’d already built up. Allison turned her back to them and made her way to the record player next to the couch. She carefully pulled a sleeve from the shelf and let it begin spinning before making her way back to the table where the others still sat.

As she passed through the doorway, the beats of “Heartbreak Hotel” sounded through the room and she swung her hips wide with the best Elvis impression she could manage. The overstated moves earned a laugh from her fiancée and wolf whistles from the two men seated across from her. Allison pulled Zoey from her seat and shimmied them back into the living room for a dance break, despite Zoey’s protests that they still had several items to work through. Allison assured her that’s why she needed a dance break and that they’d get back to it as soon as the record needed to be flipped over. To Allison’s complete delight, Zoey caved and danced with her until the bluesy tune faded into a familiar ballad.

Zoey turned toward the dining room to find that Calum and Michael had followed to watch them from the safety of the door. The two men stood as if they were made to fit together. Michael’s head rested perfectly on Calum’s shoulder and his hands splayed softly across Calum’s stomach under Calum’s hands. Even so, Zoey knew she still had her dad wrapped around her finger after all these years. She put on the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage and stretched out her arms before pleading with him, “The wedding’s still six months away, but I need to practice my dancing. Please, daddy, please.” His sheepish smile was bright in the low lamp light as he maneuvered around Calum. Michael placed a kiss to Calum’s smiling cheek as he squeezed through the door frame beside him. “You know I’ll never turn down a dance with my best girl,” he remarked as he took her in his arms. Calum, in turn, made a large sweeping motion as he bowed to Allison. “May I please have this dance?” Always a drama queen in every group. Allison laughed and took his hand, letting him lead her across the small room in an effort not to intrude on Zoey and Michael’s sweet moment.

Michael hummed along to the melody and his voice vibrated through his chest under Zoey’s head, sweeping a sense of nostalgia over her. “Dad?” she questioned as she lifted her head to look into his pale green eyes. They’d become even more pronounced over the years as the color faded from his hair, though he tried to hide behind the wide-rimmed glasses that stopped just above his full cheeks when he smiled. His eyes were slow to open and he only offered a hum in response. “What if we made this our father-daughter dance at the reception? I know it’s not a typical choice, but it would just mean a lot to me and -” Michael’s lips landed soft against Zoey’s forehead with a smile, immediately soothing her rambling mind. “I would love that, Z.”

Not trusting her mind and voice to work with her, Zoey simply nodded and nuzzled her head back into Michael’s chest, hugging him as close as possible. Michael’s smile grew as he tossed a glance across the room to where Allison and Calum swayed casually, lost in some giddy conversation if their expressions were any indication. With a contented sigh, he placed another kiss on top of Zoey’s curls. His voice was soft at first, only loud enough for Zoey to hear, but then it grew just enough to be heard over the record player as he sang.

“Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine. I'll be yours through all the years, ‘til the end of time. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

He couldn’t help watching Allison and Calum as they looked over fondly. Michael thought of all the times it was just him and Zoey against the world. Everything had changed so much since he lost her mom. He couldn’t believe how their little family had grown over the years and he was so proud of the life they’d made and the love they all shared. Michael tried not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as the last lines closed out.

———

taglist: @easierlftv @haikucal @mashlums @youngblood199456 @calumbroutledge @alltimesos @another-lonely-heart @castaway-cashton @itsjen223 @bloodyoathcal @vapor5sos @myloverboyash @justhereforcalum @karajaynetoday @spicycal @devilatmydoor

#my writing #michael clifford #michael clifford one shot #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford blurb #calum hood #malum #malum fluff #malum blurb #malum one shot #it only took me nine years and im sure it'll flop but at least it doesn't live in my head anymore lmao alsdkjfhlakjh #does this count as malum??? kind of???

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the-melting-world · 4 years ago

Text

Strawberry Swing

Kipling x Dante

~ In which a humble gardener goes on her first date with a shy alchemist...

This 🍵 is infused with “Strawberry Swing” by Coldplay

Dante belongs to @arcanecadenza. This fic is loosely based on Kipling’s First Date Headcanons

~1.6k words

***

Kipling adjusted her hat for the millionth time. It was one of those hats that she always saw in the window of a quaint boutique on her way from her flat in South End to her job in the Heart District. It wasn’t too tall or floppy, but rather structured and woven with flowers to accent it.

Finally, she broke down and bought the damn thing.

But now that Kip was standing in front of her mirror in a cream-colored cotton dress and sandals, she wasn’t sure if the hat was perfect or just a tad too much.

Kipling heard a knock at the door. She made up her mind to keep the hat. Hoping it wasn’t all a mistake, she went downstairs and opened the door to find Dante Alighieri standing stiffly and holding a rustic bouquet of sunflowers and delphiniums.

“Er, I know you already have a lot of plants, but I saw these on the way here and I couldn’t pass them up.”

Kip gave Dante a kiss on the cheek before accepting the flowers. “They’re wonderful and always welcome to live with the rest of my plants. Come inside.”

While Kipling prepared a vase for her new flowers, she noticed that Dante was dressed in a suit for their date. All that was missing was a tie, but that hardly granted him any points for being casual.

“Dante,” Kip said, doing her best not to sound patronizing, “you know that we’re going to be outside the whole time, right?”

Dante’s expression shifted in a way that made his glasses slide down his nose. He adjusted them.

“I thought we were going to look at sculptures… at a museum.”

Kip sighed. “Sculptures and art installations, yes, but it’s an outdoor exhibit. Did I forget to mention that?”

This time it was Dante’s turn to sigh. “No, you didn’t. I think I just…” he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Kipling quickly finished up with the flowers and made her way to where he was.

“Really, it’s not a big deal. Look.” She carefully unbuttoned his expensive jacket and shrugged it over his shoulders. As she was bringing it down his arms, she couldn’t help hearing the subtle, but affirming sound in his throat or noticing the way his dark eyes tracked her with quiet interest.

Kipling smiled, but didn’t address his behavior as she folded his jacket and placed it over the back of the nearest chair. Then she started on unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves.

While she worked, Dante said, “I like your hat.”

Kipling snorted. “Really?” Then she muttered, “I kind of think it makes me look like someone’s nanny.”

“A cute nanny.”

The compliment took Kipling off guard. She looked up at Dante, her gazing catching onto the beauty mark dead smack in the middle of his pouty lower lip. The mark taunted her, practically dared her to kiss it right then.

“Hm. Is that so?” Kip mused as she freed a couple more buttons on Dante’s open collar. She could tell that he was working himself up to make a move as well.

Now that Kipling thought about it, this hesitancy between them was downright ridiculous given the amount of times they’d slept together. It always took them a while to get over their initial shyness. That or they were a tangled mess of limbs and lips, and later when everything was out of their systems, resorted back to mutual sheepishness.

Honestly, Kipling wished it could be easier to express how she felt about Dante the moment she felt it. She wanted to be able to touch and kiss and say how she felt without having to work up to it. Damn it, she wanted to say how she felt now.

Kip tapped the mole on his lip, which definitely flustered him enough to at least somewhat satisfy her urges.

“We should get going.”

***

Kipling and Dante walked the length of South End until they reached the uppermost border that shared a canal with Goldgrave. Nestled in a labyrinth of holly hedges and umbrella-like sallows was the park where the exhibits were set up. When the gardener and the alchemist passed under the entrance to the outdoor museum, Kipling was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to hold Dante’s hand.

She tested if he was willing by wrapping both of her hands around his forearm, sidling closer and looking up with a silent question on her face.

Dante smiled and smoothly used his other hand to drag Kip’s down until he could thread his fingers through hers. His fingers were sure and firm between hers, which made the sides of Kipling’s neck flicker with heat that traveled all the way up past her cheekbones. She gave an easy smile and tore her eyes away from his mole-flecked, sun-baked skin. Or else she would have kept staring at him and completely ignoring the artwork.

The couple perused and commented on the different pieces. Kipling favored all the wiry detailing and intricate steel latticework while Dante was partial to the denser, more oblong monstrosities, as Kipling called them.

They continued to tease and poke at each other’s tastes as they wandered into the less populated part of grounds. Eventually they came upon an older installation, clearly one that had outlived a few exhibit cycles. It was dome-shaped and blanketed in moss and flowering vines.

Kipling noticed the installation before Dante did, which she used to her advantage when she left him with a brief, but very unexpected kiss just shy of the corner of his mouth. Then she sort of half skipped, half danced away in the direction of the mossy colossus.

Kipling could tell by the way Dante laughed and the sound of his uneven steps behind her that he was confused as to what was going on. But Kip had played this game before and she knew he would eventually catch on.

And he did. Dante nearly caught Kipling as she made him do laps around the installation. The goal, however, was to get him to follow her inside where it was dark and decorated in the rarer, more sensitive blossoms.

Several sensations went off inside Kipling when Dante joined her inside the shell and slowed down in his approach. They were both panting and expelling the last of their laughs until they were too close to care about games or pretending.

It was Kip who took Dante’s hands and guided them against the length of her neck, encouraging him to feed his rough fingers into her roots as she so often did with him. Dante’s calluses scraping the skin behind her ears caused her to gasp before he sealed his mouth to hers. Soon Dante joined her, moaning in a way that had Kipling’s cheeks sweetly burning.

When they eventually pulled away, breathless, Kip said, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait until the end of the date.”

Dante stroked his thumb where it rested along Kip’s jaw and smiled softly. “I’m glad you didn’t.” He drifted to the right and pressed his lips to the side of her face, lingering long enough to elicit a sigh from her.

Later, when the two of them were sitting down for lunch on the lip of a fountain, they watched the afternoon crowds filter into the park. Many were families, dressed in cool, shifting fabrics and floral patterns. But there was one family in particular that caught Kipling’s attention. A charming couple with two curly-haired youngsters. They chased each other in their bright skirts, carelessly laughing and inventing rules to their game on the fly.

It wasn’t until after the family passed that Kipling noticed Dante watching her.

“What?”

Like Kip expected, Dante grew suddenly bashful. “I just had a thought… what if we came back here again someday?”

The way the sentence ended felt as if he was holding onto the last part of it. Kipling put her lunch to the side and stood up. She helped Dante onto his feet and squared his shoulders so he was facing her.

Dante looked on with wide brown eyes as Kipling got her words together. Words that she’d been wrestling with all day.

“Dante, I know that we don’t get to see each other that often, but I don’t know why we have to be so shy around each other anymore. I want to be myself and for you to be yourself because…” she rested her fingers against his chest. “I don’t want to hide how I’m feeling when I’m with you. I don’t think I can anymore. I –”

Dante’s large hands found Kip’s waist so fast. He kissed her before the fountain in front of all those families and screaming children. Not behind it. Not discreetly either.

When he pulled away, Kipling was flustered and hot all over. But all of it went away when she studied Dante and realized how much it took for him to initiate something like that. Still blushing, but growing bold even in the sunny, crowded space, Kipling pulled Dante in and found his lips again.

“What do you want for breakfast in the morning?” She whispered against his lips, testing him still.

“I usually have some toast and fruit. But I’ll eat anything really, and…” He leaned closer to her ear. “I want you to have some too, Kip, but only… if I can be the plate.” He pulled back. “If that’s all right with you.”

Kip couldn’t stop grinning as she met Dante’s gaze. His dark, wispier strands that had escaped his half bun were chasing the light breeze. Kipling didn’t hesitate to entwine her fingers with his and pull him along.

“Yes, Dante. It is.”

#the arcana #kipling the apprentice #kipling bronne #kip of cups #oc dante #dante x kipling #kipling x dante #dapling #my writing

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winged-reaper · 4 years ago

Text

Surprise at home

art not mine

Pairings: Tamaki Amajiki x female reader

Warning: Fluff cuz this boy deserves some love

Summary: Reader finds out a surprise to tell her husband Tamaki, but how will he take the news?

You and Tamaki had been married for just over a year and you couldn't have been happier. You ran a small school to give kids of villians and previous villians a second chance at life while he did Hero work. For some of the villains that just seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, he would often give them the business card you had him keep just in case. As much as Tamaki worried about you, he knew you wanted to help these people out and he loved that about you. You always reached out to someone who needed help even when they didn't know how to ask for it. If not for that, then you two would have never started dating in the first place.

But all that aside anytime he came to visit you during one of his patrols that pasted by the school he always saw you interacting with the children happily. The smile you wore always set his heart a flutter but a thought came through his mind. It was a quiet one that occurred shortly after you first got married but he was too shy to mention it. He wanted to have a child with you. Tamaki knew you would be an excellent mother with your caring and loving nature but he was scared you would reject the idea entirely. Reject him. The very thought had him shaking so he tried to push the thought of asking you to carry his child as far in the back of his mind as possible.

One Saturday, you woke up a bit later than usual. You stretched up in yours and Tamaki's and sighed. "It just had to be my day off work that Tamaki had to leave extra early." You pout missing his snuggles. As shy as he was in public your husband could be quite the cuddle bug when it was just the two of you. You loved that about him, it was your own private side to him. But as you continued your complaining in your thoughts another complaint began to make itself feel known. You paused feeling your stomach turn and twist before a sensation in your throat had you rushing towards the toilet to puke up all of your dinner from the night before.

After puking, you leaned your head against the toilet and tried to think what you could have eaten that made you so sick. You were always so careful with your cooking since Tamaki's quirk relied on the foods he ate and you made sure the seafood was good whenever you bought some to him for lunch. When your love's name ran across your mind a second time, your eyes widened. You made a quick dash for the calendar you kept in the kitchen looking for the mark you put to remind yourself of when your time of the month was supposed to begin. As soon as you found the mark you hand went to your mouth in shock. It was 3 weeks late and you hadn't noticed because of how busy things at the school had been lately.

You hurried back to your bedroom and scoured your closet for the box of special presents you received at the wedding. One such box contain a couple pregnancy tests. "There's no way. There's no way." You repeat as you take both tests just in case the first one was buggy. Pacing back and forth you heard your phone buzz snapping you out of your mini panic. Looking at it you saw your husband send you an "I love you" message making your heart swell before sent a little octopus emoji making you giggle. "He's getting hungry." You say before realizing it was time to check the tests.

Covering your eyes you peeked at them cautiously before your jaw dropped. Both tests said positive. You cried for joy at seeing that. You had wanted to bring up starting a family with Tamaki for a while but it seemed every time you tried to bring up the topic there was an emergency that either of you had to take care of and it became very frustrating. So after a while you just gave up the idea and focused all your energy on the kids that came through your program, but apparently fate had other ideas. This was something wonderful, but would Tamaki feel the same?

You shook away those thoughts as you made your way to the kitchen. On your days off when Tamaki had to go in early, you always brought him lunch. He loved that and you loved getting to spend him lunch break with him, it made being married to the number 8 a little bit easier. Putting together his favorites you tried to think of something you could do to break the news to him. The main goal in mind, not freaking him out into the next century. But all your ideas felt short. You wanted to surprise him with the news but didn't know how. Eventually you sighed and decided you would figure it later.

After a brief walk, you entered the Fatgum Hero Agency. You knew the lady at the reception desk well as this was not your first visit and frequently just waved you on to the back. Smiling you left her a little treat today, you were in a really good mood and quickly hurried to the back to look for Tamaki. "Ah Y/N" said a familiar voice that made you stop and turn with a smile. "Hi Fatgum." You say walking up to the round hero. He laughed as he eyed the lunch you were carrying in your hand. "I see you brought Tamaki lunch again." Fatgum gave a little pout that quickly vanished. "I'm gonna have to find myself a cute wife like you to spoil me just like how you spoil little Tamaki." His comment made you blush making him chuckle before patting your head. "You know I only tease, but Suneater is still out on patrol with Red Riot. They should be back soon. That was good to hear.

You and Fatgum chatted back and forth in regards to the school and a few potential candidies for his Agency when they got a little older. All the while the hero noticed something a little different about you today. You seemed to have a new glow about you. It wasn't the usual glow you had, but something much more pure. Then an idea came across his mind and he had to ask. "Hey Y/N. Can I ask you something real quick?" You stopped whatever you were saying to give your friend a strange look before giving him a hesitant sure. "Are you pregnant?" Immediately your face turned bright red indicating that what he suspected was true. "Does Tamaki know yet?" You gave a sheepish shake of your head. "N-no I just found out this morning." You bashfully said.

"Found out what?" Said Kirishima making you practically jump three feet in the air. "Kiri leave Y/N alone." Tamaki warned the redhead before making his way into the room. Your heart raced with excitement at seeing your husband come to your rescue making you almost swoon for him all over again. Fatgum chuckled at your reaction. As soon as Tamaki took his goggles off his eyes were drawn to the lunch you brought and you could have sworn you saw him drooling for a second. He made his way over with a blush on his cheek. "Thank you love." He said before leaning down to give you the quickest of pecks on the cheek before he began to reach for his lunch.

Seeing the two of you interact gave Fatgum an idea. He snuck behind you and lifted the lunch you made from behind making both you and Tamaki blink at your hands that were now empty. "You can head home early today Suneater. It's been pretty quite today. Besides you and Y/N should get to have lunch together at home once in a while." He said before he began munching on the lunch you made. You gave a quick pout but quickly smiled when you realized that the hero did that so you could tell Tamaki in the comfort of your own home. Tamaki didn't seem to think too much into the reason why Fatgum was offering him the rest of the day off. It was strange but not too uncommon. He shrugged and looked back at you. "Let me go let Kirishima know and we'll head home." His stomach growled in response making him blush more and you giggle. "Well hurry home and I'll make you a big lunch." He gave a nervous smile as he turned to go track down the red headed hero returning to you a few minutes later. As you both walked out you peeked back at Fatgum, who was finishing the lunchbox and shooting you a good luck thumbs up. The gesture caused you to blush and make Tamaki look back at you. "Love? Are you ok?" He asked snapping your attention back to him. Giving a nod you quickly reassured him that you were perfectly okay. Better even. Hearing that made a gentle smile appear on his face, making you forget yourself for a moment as you leaned up to kiss him. Instantly the crimson tint appeared in his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears. He was blushing almost all the way home.

Thankfully the walk wasn't too long but he wanted to hide knowing how red his face must have been from the simple kiss. "Tamaki why do you keep doing this to yourself?" His inner voice questioned. "Y/N is your wife, she deserves someone who doesn't turn to complete blushing mush every single time she kisses you. She-" Before his inner voice could continue it's tiny motivational lecture, your voice caught his attention. "Sweetie what do you want for lunch?" Tamaki blinked almost in shock that they were not only home but he had also changed into his civilian clothes. His thoughts were so loud that it drowned out everything around him. Shaking his head he told you what he wanted making you smile at him before you started cooking. Tamaki laid his arms over the table to partly hide this face as he watched you cook. He really loved you and was still amazed that a woman like you would want anything to do with him. But who was he to complain. As he thought about everything he loved about you, an old idea came creeping up from the cobwebs of his mind. You would look so beautiful with a baby bump. A baby bump he would be the cause of. The idea practically had steam coming out of his ears from his blush.

While he had his daydream you hurried and quickly brought your meals over, yours looking a bit different than normal catching Tamaki's attention. "Love are you feeling ok? You never eat that." He said pointing to the unusual item on your plate. You gave a shy smile before nodding. "Well I need to start eating it since I'm eating for two after all and-" You froze as soon as those words left your mouth. Tamaki seemed frozen too as he seemed like he was trying to process what you had just said. He looked down at your stomach and back up at your face in disbelief. With a blush on your face you went to retrieve the pregnancy tests to show him. The indigo haired man was silent as he looked at the two positive tests, your belly and then you for a good 10 minutes as he processed that you were in fact pregnant. "A-are you upset?" You asked feeling worried that he didn't actually want children. He didn't answer you with words. Instead he wrapped his arms around you and gave you the biggest kiss he'd ever given you making you practically float on a cloud of happiness. "Upset? Why on earth would I be upset when I'm so happy. I wanted to have a baby with you for so long and now it's finally happening." He honestly wanted to cry. But then the worry of your job came into mind. He brought up his concerns making you nod and think. "Well we've gotten a lot of new students recently. But I'm sure I can reach out to a few hero agencies nearby to ask if they have any heroes that could help out around the school." The idea made your husband breath out in relief. You were already thinking ahead and now you were going to actually mother his children.

Then the final click of realization occurred and Tamaki fainted. "T-tamaki?!" You yelped as you checked on him. He had a silly grin that worried you a little but you knew he was just overloaded with happiness. Giggling, you made yourself a comfy lap pillow for him before looking at your stomach and talking to your unborn child. "Sweetie lets not give daddy too many heart attacks after you're born okay?" You smiled and lovingly brush his bangs aside. He was truly everything you wanted and now you had a new adventure to go on. Nothing seemed better.

#my hero academia #mha #mhafic #Tamaki Amajiki #bnha suneater #bnha #bnha fic #amajiki #tamaki #my hero academia tamaki #pregnancy #fluff

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atc74 · 4 years ago

Text

Soul to Souls - Nineteen

Warnings: Pregnancy, labor, lots of language, fluff

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 2259

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. Thank you to everyone that is enjoying the story so far. You’re probably going to get a couple chapters a week, trying to wrap this up before the new series starts.

Only one chapter left! 😢

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Soul to Souls Master List

Previously...

Only a few days from her due date, Annaleigh sat quietly in the nursery one night, sleep eluding her as she was not able to get comfortable much anymore. Her eyes were closed, and she absentmindedly rubbed her swollen belly, thinking about how happy she was with their life and how much things had changed over the last five and a half years, how much they had lost and how much they had gained. She didn’t even open her eyes when she heard the fluttering of wings in the room.

“Hi Cas,” she said quietly.

“Hey, girl.” The gruff voice had her bolting upright, her eyes flying open.

“Bobby?” her words were barely a whisper, as she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

Now...

“Yeah, Kid, it’s me. The powers that be finally decided I could show myself to you. It’s been hard being here with the kids most nights and not being able to talk to you. I know Dean is treatin’ ya right though; I can feel it in him. That boy loves you.”

“Dean!” Annaleigh wanted her husband to be here with her, with Bobby. Anna heard him call out to her, and she laughed as he turned the corner too fast in his socked feet, slipping as he entered the nursery.

“Red! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She heard the fear in his voice as he reached her side.

Panic had rushed through him when he heard Annaleigh yell for him and she wasn’t in their bed. They only had days to go until the newest Winchester arrived and Dean was nervous she would go into labor any minute.

Standing before him was Bobby, stopping Dean dead in his tracks.

“Bobby?” He couldn’t really believe it was him.

“Yeah, it’s me, Son.” Dean embraced Bobby with all his might; he was so happy to see him.

“God, I missed you, old man,” Dean whispered over Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby looked around the nursery casually. “I love what you’ve done with the place. I think she is going to love it.”

“Thanks, Bobby. Sam and I have been working on - wait, what?” Dean stuttered. “Did you say ‘she’?”

“Oops, I don’t think I was supposed to tell. One of the perks of being an angel, I guess,” Bobby replied sheepishly.

“It’s a girl?” Anna asked, getting up from the rocker and slowly walking over to Bobby. “Are you sure?”

Bobby reached out and placed his hands over Anna’s stomach, a pale blue glow emanating from his palms. “Yeah, Annaleigh, I’m sure, and she is as beautiful as her Mama.” A single tear rolled down his face and disappeared into his unruly beard.

Dean watched as Bobby embraced his wife before he joined, wrapping his arms around both of them, really feeling like their family was complete. Even if Bobby couldn’t be here physically with them, they knew he was always here.

Despite her due date coming and going, Dr. Sullivan had assured Anna and Dean that their baby and Annaleigh were perfectly healthy and, as long as that didn’t change, she didn’t want to risk inducing labor and causing undue stress on both mother and baby. Cas dropped by every few days and confirmed the doctor’s decision. Number three was just not ready to make her debut just yet - the Winchesters liked to make a dramatic entrance. Robby and Millie certainly had, arriving almost a month early.

Dean’s birthday was coming, and the birthday tradition for her husband meant pie, not cake. With the kids at preschool and Dean at his brother’s, Anna took advantage of the quiet and spent the morning making a pecan and an apple pie for him, since those were his favorite. She had invited Sam, and of course Jody over for his birthday dinner the next night, along with Bobby and Cas, if they could manage.

Exhaustion calling her as she yawned widely, Anna laid down on the couch for a little snooze, texting Dean first.

Before she knew it, Dean was waking her gently from her cocoon on the couch. The kids were already washed and seated at the table, waiting patiently for supper. Dean helped her to her feet, and she shuffled off to the bathroom before her bladder exploded.

Dean was serving dinner when she returned to the dining room, and she gladly accepted his offer to make her plate and pour the milk. He has been taking such good care of her, a girl could get used to it. Robby and Millie led a short Grace before they ate.

“Thank you Lord for this food and for Mama and Daddy,” Robby started.

“Thank you for the snow and for Grampa. But, God, if you are listening, could you please bring my baby sister?” Millie ended the Grace with Amen, and Dean and Anna both chuckled a little.

“Millie, I am excited for her to get here too, but sometimes babies don’t come when they are supposed to. You and your brother didn’t,” Anna offered.

“I know, Mama, but I’m just really excited to meet her and give her a real name besides ‘baby sister’,” Millie confessed to her parents.

Once dinner was over, Dean cleared the dishes and put away the leftovers. It was nearing bathtime for both kids, and Anna slowly made her way towards the stairs when she felt the warmth trickle down her legs.

“Dean!” she called from the base of the stairs, holding onto the banister for support.

“Yeah, Red?” Dean answered as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. He saw Anna clutching the banister with a puddle at her feet.

“Dean, my water just broke,” Anna grimaced, trying to stay upright as the first contraction hit her.

“I know, Red. I can see it.” He helped her sit down on the stairs. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back with a change of clothes for you. I’m gonna call Jody to come stay with the twins.” He raced up the stairs, yelling for the kids and reaching for his phone.

“Jody, it’s Dean. Yeah, it’s time. Can you come stay with Robby and Millie?...Yeah, I’ll have Sam stay until you can get here...I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping...Thank you so much.” Dean placed the next call to Sam.

“Sammy, it’s time. Jody’s coming, but we need you right now,” Dean panted as he rushed from room to room. “Yes, Sam...I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you stuck around...now can we worry about your love life when my wife isn’t in labor?...’Kay, thanks, Sammy.”

Robby and Millie ran into their bedroom, holding hands. “Daddy?” they said in unison, watching him scramble around the room looking for clothes for his wife.

“Uncle Sam is going to come stay with you until Jody gets here. I’m going to take Mommy to the hospital. I think your baby sister is finally going to come tonight,” Dean said excitedly to the children.

“YAY! Baby Sister! Baby Sister!” They screamed in unison, jumping up and down.

Dean ran back down the stairs to find his wife still sitting there, breathing and counting. Easing her to her feet and into the small bathroom off the kitchen, Dean gingerly held her while helping her slip off her soaking wet pants and underwear, then pulling on clean bottoms. “How far apart, Red?”

“Best guess is four to five minutes, I don’t really know,” Annaleigh breathed out.

Sam was waiting for them when they emerged, a child in each arm. “Don’t worry, guys, I got this. Go have my niece! Call me with updates.”

Dean grabbed the two bags that had been packed by the front door for a month, running them out to the car, then went back for Anna, helping her slowly down the porch steps and into the car. Once they were both secured, he backed out of the driveway and sped off towards the hospital.

Dean was grateful for the cakewalk this pregnancy had been, for Anna’s sake. Even almost two weeks overdue, it had been much easier on her than the first. Dean was also ecstatic to have another baby with this extraordinary woman. About fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. He jumped out quickly, grabbing a wheelchair and helped Annaleigh into it, pushing her through the double doors.

After they were checked in, a nurse came to get her and gave Dean her room number. She let him know they were going to get her settled. He knew she was in capable hands, but he reluctantly left her side to park the car. Immediately upon returning to the maternity ward, he could hear his wife screaming his name and swearing. He wasn’t sure he deserved it; it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he would gladly take whatever she dished out. Dean entered the room, and a nurse threw him a set of scrubs. He quickly changed into the scrubs and rushed to his wife’s side. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down to her, her face flushed, sweat already beading on her porcelain skin.

“You did this to me! You fucker! I hate you!” Anna bellowed at him and he let her, taking it like a good husband should when their wife is pushing the next generation into the world.

“Ok, Annaleigh, all done with that one. Take some deep breaths and the doctor will be right in to check on you,” the nurse spoke calmly and Anna stopped yelling.

Reaching up, she cupped Dean’s stubbled cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, relishing in the calm her touch provided, even when she was the one doing all the work. “I love you, Dean. I am so happy we are having another baby. Thank you for giving me a family.”

“I love you too, Red. We wouldn’t have this family if it wasn’t for you. You are strong and brave. You are my rock. You are the best mama ever and we are lucky to have you.” He placed small kisses over her head and forehead, trailing down to her mouth. She kissed him with a passion and energy he didn’t think she could muster during labor, but he had learned long ago never to underestimate her, ever.

They were interrupted by a throat being cleared as the doctor entered the room. “Hi Annaleigh, how are you doing?” Doctor Sullivan inquired, coming around the foot of the bed. “Let’s take a look at your progress. The nurse says your contractions are pretty strong, so let’s see how far along you are.” The doctor lifted up the sheet and did a quick exam before she removed her gloves and turned to them.

“Okay, mom, you are dilated to six centimeters and are moving along well. This baby should be making an appearance in just a few hours. I’ll have one of the nurses come check on you in a bit.” With that, she was gone.

“Dean, did you hear that? There is a good chance she’ll be born on your birthday.” Anna looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, glistening with tears.

“Red, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present,” Dean leaned down and kissed her again.

The next couple of hours went by quickly, nurses checking in every few minutes during contractions until, finally, it was time. The doctor came into the room and told Anna to start pushing, which she did like a champ. Their daughter arrived kicking and screaming in less than ten minutes, weighing seven pounds, fourteen ounces and just over twenty inches long.

Doctor Sullivan looked at the clock, officially announcing the time of birth as 1:07am, January the 24th. They had a birthday baby, and Dean couldn’t hide his smile or tears. He turned to his wife, kissing her full on the mouth. “Red, I am so proud of you. Thank you so much for this gift.”

A nurse handed Dean a pink bundle, and he looked down at her with so much love in his heart, kissing her little head before passing her to his wife. “She is so beautiful, Red.”

“We never talked about it, so what are we going to name her, Dean?” Anna and Dean exchanged options quietly, sneaking glances down at their new daughter, finally landing on the one they both loved.

No one else would have noticed over the hustle and bustle in the room, but if you knew what you were listening for, you could hear it. They both glanced up to see Bobby standing silently in the corner, waiting for everyone to clear out so he could be alone with his family and meet his new granddaughter. Once the delivery staff left the family alone, he made his way over the edge of the bed.

“Hey pretty girl,” he cooed over the new baby, just like he had with the twins.

“Bobby, meet your granddaughter, Samantha Karen Winchester, but you can call her Sammie,” Anna declared, watching the old man cry for only the fourth time in her life.

“She’s gonna be tickled pink when I tell her,” Bobby sniffed as he cradled the newborn in his arms. His wet eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary, Bobby. We couldn’t think of any better way to honor her memory than to name this little one after her,” Dean expressed. “She would have been a wonderful grandma.”

“Yeah, she woulda,” the old man sniffed, letting his emotions take over.

Bobby stayed at the hospital for a little longer, until Anna was too tired to keep her eyes open. She tried to deny it, but he knew better. He left the hospital to check in on the rest of his family. The twins were sleeping soundly, holding hands as usual. Bobby slowly made his way down the stairs, knowing it would be faster to fly, but not wanting the flutter of his wings to wake Sam. He didn’t expect to find him curled up on the sofa with Jody in a cocoon of blankets to ward against the chilly winter night. He found himself smiling, proud of the boys he had raised and the men they had become.

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Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole

#dean x annaleigh #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut

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monsterlovinghours · 5 years ago

Note

Concept: the dons dealing with an s/o that’s really insecure with them? Like, they all love you so much but you still just kinda isolate from them sometimes cause you think they don’t wanna be around you and they have to kinda smack some sense into you?

a smidge angsty and boy is this a fat mood

Bee cocked an ear, brow furrowed curiously as he heard the sound of distinctly human footsteps ascending the stairs to the third floor. It was rarely used, just spare bedrooms and galleries of Gio’s less precious collections. The staff turned the sheets once a week, and once a month it received a thorough cleaning, but no one really spent much time up there. No one, except you. Lately, you’d been all but shutting yourself up in one of the spare rooms, locking the doors behind you and making as little noise as possible. As if you were trying to hide from them. Scarabee sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if this was normal human behavior or if he had cause to worry. Muttering in his accented Creole French, he sent his shadows throughout the estate to search out his colleagues, to gather them in the smoking room. He would rest easier once they had reassured him that you were behaving normally.

Yet, as they gathered and he called to their attention the change in your habits, and the same ague expression of worry crossed each of their faces, he knew he would remain uneasy for a while longer.

“Has anyone spoken to them recently?”

Bajo lifted his hand, waggling it side to side in midair. “Sort of? They come down sometimes to grab food and drinks, and I tried to start a conversation.” His expression fell, the tips of his pointed ears drooping ever so slightly as his hair took on a faint bluish hue. “They hardly said a word to me, they barely even looked up at me. I tried to pull them close, but they ran off before I could get a grip on them.”

Zhuk muttered something unintelligible in Russian. “That is unlike them. What could have happened?”

“We’re not gonna find out what’s wrong with ‘em sitting down here frettin’ like hens,” Cia said impatiently, already getting to his feet. “Let’s go talk to ‘em.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, Gio stood as well, his expression stormy, though for once, his ire wasn’t directed as his associates. He was angry with himself for not noticing the changes in their human treasure’s behavior before now; or, if he had noticed, had done nothing to improve their mood. Following his lead, the five of them walked up to the third floor, up to your new hideout.

There was no doubt you were inside, they could hear your heartbeat from the ground floor. It was slow, steady. Nothing out of the ordinary there. There was also the tinny sound of something played through speakers, something slow and modern. The door was locked, but a wisp of Bee’s shadows popped the tumblers, and the door swung open. You were curled up on a large four-poster bed, your laptop playing music, your eyes glued to the window. It didn’t escape any demon’s notice that they were slightly red, puffy, and hazy.

“Darlin’?” Cia approached you first, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Hey, love. Whatcha all hid away up here for?”

You looked over at them, as if just noticing they had entered the room, before dropping your gaze to your lap, pulling a blanket around your shoulders as you hugged a pillow to your chest. “Just felt like being alone,” you said softly, flatly. Slowly, they each took a seat on the bed, the mattress large enough to keep them a respectable distance from you; nevertheless, they watched you shrink back against the headboard, as if you were afraid of them reaching for you, and oh how that tore at their hearts.

“Sweetheart,” Gio began softly, his gaze uncharacteristically gentle, “why do you keep coming up here? Surely the den or the smoking room would be more comfortable?”

You shrug, your gaze still not lifting. “I guess...I just figured I’d be more out of the way up here. You guys are always working downstairs and I didn’t want to....y’know, I didn’t want to distract you or anything.”

Five brows creased in unison. “Tsvetok, what gave you the impression that you were ever a distraction to us?”

“And if you were,” Bajo piped up, “you were a welcome distraction.” Gio’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed in a venomous glare.

“Not helping, idiota.”

Bee shook his head, rolling mismatched eyes as he inched a fraction closer to you, nearly close enough to reach for you, though he didn’t. “Tell us the truth now, cher,” he coaxed in a tender voice, low and nonthreatening. “You’ve been distant for days now. Is it something we did?”

Slowly, you shook your head, and they all felt an unspoken relief that they had not inadvertently pushed you away. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Then what, darling?”

You sighed heavily, chewing absently at your lip. “It’s...I don’t know. I just feel like...y’know, you all have so much on your plates. You each run multiple businesses, and you’re always talking about paperwork and meetings and business deals, and I just…” Somehow, you seemed to shrink even further into yourself. “I just feel so...small compared to all that. Like it doesn’t matter how much I miss you when any of you leave for work, because you’re moving such big pieces around. And,” you gave an incredulous laugh, more of a scoff, to punctuate the word, “you’re all fucking demons. You have power and knowledge I’ll never have. You’ll live forever, or at least close to it. I probably won’t even make it a century. Why the hell would you ever want to waste time with someone as...as insignificant as me?”

For perhaps the first time, they were all stunned into simultaneous silence, their already pale faces even more ashen. “Oh...Oh, cara mia,” Gio breathed finally, and space be damned, he crawled up the bed to pull you into his arms, cradling you close. “Is that why you’ve been hiding yourself away up here?”

Willing yourself not to cry against the undoubtedly expensive material of his suit, you sniffled and shrugged again. “I guess. I don’t really have anywhere else to go. I should have just left, but I don’t have much money of my own, and I just couldn’t bring myself to run off with your money…”

Bajo was next to curl up around you, Cia hot on his heels. “Mi sol, will you forgive us?”

“For what,” came your confused answer.

“For ever allowing you to feel that we were too busy for you, or that you didn’t matter to us.” Gentle, ringed fingers stroked through your hair, though you couldn’t quite tell who they belonged to.

“You’re everything, mo chroi.” Cia’s voice wavered slightly, as if he were balancing on the brink of tears. More hands were on you, cradling your hands, stroking your cheek or your arm, each touching you in some gentle way. “Everything.”

“He’s right, roza.” Zhuk’s voice rumbled close to your ear, and something about the carefully measured pitch of it nearly caused your eyes to well up. “We were not beings meant to love another, or be loved in return. Before you, our entire empire was built out of hatred, spite, and bloodlust. We were shrewd, cruel, and vicious men. But you...you changed our hearts, gave them life and blood and a purpose for beating. We do what we do for you, little one. We love and live for you.”

“That ain’t an easy thing to do,” came Bee’s soft drawl, “not just any breather could pull that off. You’re somethin’ special, cherie. You mean the world and more to us.”

As if he could sense you holding back your tears, perhaps in the way you trembled in his arms, Gio gingerly brushed a kiss to your hairline before whispering, “It’s okay, amata mia. Cry if you wish, this isn’t one of my better suits.”

You laughed despite the flood of tears, clinging so tightly to them as they surrounded you, murmuring their love, their encouragement, their adoration of you in a mix of languages. Your tears dried up quickly, and you took Bee’s offered handkerchief with a soft smile of thanks, dabbing at your eyes and wiping the wet tracks from your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I...I know you guys love me. I just...I don’t always understand why. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like I’m contributing much, and I start wondering how much you actually need me or want me around...and my first impulse is to isolate.” You stretched up to kiss the first cheek you encountered, which happened to be Bajo’s. “Thanks for coming to snap me out of it.”

Your face was promptly peppered in gentle kisses, like the falling of spring rain.

“Of course, love. Will you come downstairs?”

You nodded, and as gracefully as you could manage, you slid off the bed and got to your feet. There wasn’t a moment that passed for the rest of the night that didn’t see you wrapped up in someone’s arms.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #the conglomerate #boy is this a great big fat mood #talk about hitting close to home

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bonesaldente · 5 years ago

Text

Caliginous I Darth Maul x Reader

Chapter 14: The Survival

Final Chapter of Part I

(see notes at the end for more)

ao3

previous chapter

chapter overview

words: ~3200

____

The morning air is chilly on your bare arms. Elbows leaning on the balustrade, you stare at the masses of water. They’re constantly in motion, never in one place for too long, yet still essentially the same wherever they are.

You never held much love for your guild, not for the people part of it and not for what they made you - a killer, cold, but not cold-blooded enough to not care. Dangerous enough for people to be wary of you, but not menacing enough to command people. You hold power, but only over yourself, and even that doesn’t seem to be yours entirely.

No, you don’t like the guild, but you can't imagine a life outside of the path they chose for you; there is not much you’re good at outside of fighting and murdering. Whatever you do, you always seem to revert to the same old ways.

“What’s on your mind?”

You didn’t hear Maul join you on the balcony, but seeing him stand next to you from the corner of your eye pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Just thinking. Lots of ‘What ifs’, nothing worth mentioning.”

He hums quietly.

“I sometimes wonder what would have been if I hadn’t been made what I am now. If I had been born free.”

It’s easier to talk like this when you are able to just stare off into the distance, not having to face anyone.

He doesn’t stop you, so you keep talking.

“Maybe I would be a bounty hunter. Live on my own terms, don’t rely on authorities but do things myself.”

“It would fit your skills,” he agrees.

You shrug. “Maybe in another life. I am with you now, and I intend on staying. That is,” you face him, “as long as you want me to.”

“Do you truly still question that?” The corner of his mouth twitches in a hint of a smile.

“I’m just making sure,” you mumble. “To be honest, I don’t know what I’d do if I were alone. This galaxy is too big to travel on your own.”

He looks at the sky in thought, blinking slowly.

“I won’t leave you alone.”

Morning came around faster than you expected it to. A service droid knocked on your door to drop off trays with food shortly after the sunset, delivering the first real food you’ve had in weeks.

It’s strangely casual to eat at that table with Maul; it doesn’t feel like you two are currently taking over a system, while also waging a war against the Jedi.

“I don’t like the Naboo… but their fruit is good,” you admit while the sweetness fills your mouth.

“Is it?”

“Try it,” you push your plate over to him, but he pushes it back without taking a piece.

“My species is carnivorous,” he explains, exposing his prominent canines to illustrate his point.

“Huh,” you tilt your head. How come you didn’t know that?

“You’re missing out, then.”

His nose crunches up in disgust. “It doesn’t seem all that appealing.”

When he moves his face like that, the black inking on his nose gives him a very youthful look, and you have the terrible urge to boop his nose.

Where are those thoughts coming from all of a sudden?

You just shake your head, proceeding to munch on the vast array of fruit, perfectly content with your choice of food.

“Gunray expects us in an hour for another briefing. We will then wait for my master to give us more intel on the plan of the queen, then we will come up with a strategy. It is likely we will have another encounter with her and her protectors soon.”

You sigh quietly, already dreading the moment you have to let him walk into a duel again. “Yeah.”

You just hope it won’t be so soon.

“We are sending all troops to meet this army assembling near the swamp. It appears to be made up of primitives.”

The blue hologram sways with the movement of the droid projecting it into the air.

“This will work to our advantage,” Lord Sidious remarks.

“I have your approval to proceed, then, my Lord?” The Neimoidian sounds nervous, not just because of your and Maul’s presence anymore, but also because of the hooded man speaking to him. You can’t blame him; Sidious gives you, too, a queasy feeling in your stomach.

“Wipe them out,” Sidious orders. “All of them.”

The transmission ends, and with it the tenseness in your muscles.

“They will try to use the battle as a diversion,” Maul points out.

“We shall prepare droid forces in the palace and ready ourselves for a possible ambush,” Gunray agrees, bowing to him. “And we can monitor the situation in the palace from the surveillance room.”

He leads the way along with his lieutenant, Maul and you following with a distance.

“He is concerned for his personal safety,” Maul murmurs, so that only you can hear it. “He fears they will capture him and hold him accountable.”

You lean in but don’t take your eyes off the billowing robes of the green skinned politician.

“He does seem like a coward.”

You barely manage to suppress a yelp when suddenly, he grabs your arm and pulls you behind a pillar, hidden from the view of the two oblivious men still walking.

His lips clash into yours with an urgency you can’t quite comprehend, while he pushes you into the stone of the pillar.

The surprise at his sudden display of affection hardly gives you time to enjoy it, and he pulls away much too fast.

“I… just got a feeling,” his eyes look troubled.

“A force-feeling?” You inquire, already knowing the answer.

A small nod confirms your guess.

“Should I be worried?”

He scans your face for a second.

“You already are. But no, you should not,”

“Well,” looking over his shoulder, you see the men have almost rounded the next corner, “I think we need to catch up with our green friends.”

He nods, but doesn’t pull away from you for another moment, something else hiding behind his glowing eyes, something you’re not sure you want to understand.

Everything is going to be alright. It has to.

“I thought the battle was going to take place far from here. This is too close!”

Your eyes are glued to the screen, which has just changed to an overview over the yard, where blasterfire can be heard from a distance, tanks smoking and exploding.

You track the movement of the attackers, trying to anticipate their next destination. Until now, the Jedi have been mowing through the droids as if it were nothing, slowly and steadily bringing down the palace’s defenses. The group of politicians in the room is growing anxious, and rightfully so.

“The hangar,” you finally pipe up, watching the men pile through an entrance on the west side. “They are headed for the hangar!”

“If they get a hold of the starfighters they could issue an attack on the droid control ship and shut down our army!” The viceroy exclaims, dread lacing his voice.

“We must move now.” Maul decides. “Focus your forces on the hangar.”

“But they do nothing against the Jedi, as long as-”

“I will take care of the Jedi.”

So this is it.

Secretly, you have been hoping the droids would be enough to finish the Jedi. A foolish, naive wish, but still, there is disappointment swirling in your blend of emotions.

“We should evacuate this room… To the throne room!” the lieutenant suggests, watching as another tank blows up.

The mood in the surveillance room shifts - the politicians didn’t expect to get caught up in an actual battle when they came here.

“I will stay here,” you quietly notify Maul.

It’s the only way I can still watch over you, remains unsaid.

The doors open and the people start to crowd out, Maul following last, waiting until the last man has turned his back to you two. Again, something is in the air, something that he is sensing but not telling you.

“See you in a bit?” You ask timidly.

“Yes,” His gloved hand brings you into his chest, your ear right over his jugular where you hear his steady pulse. The sound of life. You wish you would never hear anything else again. One hand holds your head close, the other intertwines your fingers briefly.

“Yes,” he repeats, with more resolve this time around.

It physically pains you when you have to let go, but you both know that you have to.

You keep yourself from watching his retreating form, telling yourself that you are overreacting and imagining a goodbye where there is only a “see you later”.

You click through the holocam views until you have found a good view on the hangar.

A full on shootout is happening, and several starfighters have already taken off. Droids are falling left and right, cut in half or hit by a deflected blaster bolt.

There is no sound, but it is clear they are speaking to each other now, planning their next steps. They start moving to the gate, but when it opens, it reveals none other than… Maul.

Looking as menacing as the first time you met him, he makes the group freeze in place. Your fingers tremble, knowing that a fight for life and death is about to start.

So much to lose… and what is to win? For you, it doesn’t matter if the Trade Federation will be able to have some kind of treaty with Naboo. You don’t even care if there will be two Jedi less to travel the galaxy; All you really want is for Maul to make it out of there alive.

The people surrounding the Jedi run through a smaller exit on the side, but it’s obvious that Maul is far past caring about anything other than the two targets before him. He removes his hood and drops his robe at the same time that the Jedi do, not once looking away from them. Even through a low resolution, flickering screen, the tension is evident.

With a practiced twirl, Maul ignites first one end of his red lightsaber, then the other, balancing it in front of his body.

The two Jedi follow his example and present their blue and green blades.

For a moment, it’s as if time stands still, the only indication of its progress your heartbeat thumping in your ears.

And then, the duel begins.

You wince, unable to breathe while watching the flurry of blue, green and red. They move much too fast for you to follow with your eyes, yet you can’t peel your eyes off the screen. It feels as though even blinking will cause you to miss something, and you can’t, you cannot miss even a second of this fight. What if he gets injured, or worse, while you’re not looking?

The duel moves closer to the generator complex. You watch the men balance and jump over narrow catwalks: A drop from this height would be deadly, and that’s without two men with lightsabers viciously attacking you.

You suck in a sharp breath when Maul manages to catapult the Jedi who looks like what they call a ‘padawan’ over the edge with a kick behind his back.

For the fraction of a second, you take your eyes off your lover and instead watch the blond man fall, huffing in disappointment when he manages to hold on to a ledge.

The next moment, Maul himself is sent flying, fortunately landing on a lower catwalk. He narrowly blocks the next attacks while still on his back, and you heave out a sigh of relief when he is back on his feet, out of the vulnerable position.

They get closer to the edge of what the holocam can capture, and you fumble with the keypad for a few seconds to get a better view.

When the different angle appears, everything is tinted red. It takes you a minute to understand that you’re looking at red force fields that separate the power generator room from the rest of the palace. Maul and the Jedi are on different sides of the fields, putting a pause on the intense fight. The Jedi master is meditating, while your Sith is pacing up and down like a wild animal, like a predator.

They must feel a change in the force, because simultaneously, they ignite their sabers again, just seconds before the force fields retract row by row. Immediately, the Jedi master is back on Maul, both of them moving backwards, inching closer to another deep drop, something that looks like a reactor shaft.

The padawan is once again separated by a force field, shuffling to a halt right before it closes. Both of you are stuck watching your partners fight; and what a fight it is. The exchange is faster than ever this time, yet everything seems to slow down to slow motion when Maul stuns the Jedi by knocking the handle of his lightsaber against the man’s head, then rams the blade right through his chest.

Your entire body relaxes in your seat. Just one more to go, this shouldn’t be a problem. Everything is going to be alright now. He has killed one of them, all that’s left is the padawan. Yeah, this won’t be a challenge. You’ll be reunited in no time and-

The field retracts once more and like a beast set loose, the padawan charges at Maul. It is an incredibly fast paced fight, faster than with the master, so fast that you have to force your eyes to focus on the spectacle.

A small gasp escapes you when his lightsaber is cut in half, one half flying off to the side, the other remaining in his hand when he is pushed on his back again.

“Get up, get up,” you mumble, watching as the padawan flips over him. Maul, of course, jumps back up before the other man can land any strikes, elegantly evading his attacks.

Their sabers clash, interlocking for a second, then Maul pushes the padawan back, using the force to shove him over the edge, sending him falling a few feet down the shaft, where he just barely manages to hold on to a pipe.

From your angle, the ground partially obscures your vision on the man, but an early sense of victory fills you. Now, you two will be able to leave and make your own decisions. You’ve proven your worth, and now-

Your skin feels numb.

You are still breathing, but there is no oxygen reaching your lungs. Reality seems so far away, so disconnected, as you stare. You stare and watch the Jedi padawan leap, summoning his master’s abandoned lightsaber, flying over Maul’s head.

And then, suddenly, Maul is falling.

Your body goes cold, then hot, then back to cold, bile rising up your throat.

A shaking hand clasps over your mouth, and it’s only then that you realize that your entire body is shaking.

Your vision blurs, all you can see is the padawan running to the body of his master, crouching down next to it.

Maul is just… gone. Disappeared, down the reactor shaft. How could this happen?

It’s not true, it’s not true, he can’t die, it can’t be,-

Trembling, your breaths coming out short, accompanied by a desperate sob, your fingers find the keypad again, and you rewind the footage. You have to see it again, you just have to, despite already knowing what’s coming.

The padawan jumps, Maul turns, the green blade slices right through his stomach.

You rewind again, and the same footage plays out in front of your eyes.

You rewind again, and again, until the images are burned into the back of your head. When you bury your face in your hands, instead of darkness, the same images welcome you. There is no escape from your emotions, but you still try.

You don’t know where you’re going, all you know is that you need to get away. The sounds of blasterfire still echo in the corridors, but they are far away.

You wish they were here.

You wish you weren’t alone.

Passing a statue that looks familiar, your sense of orientation returns to you. If you turn left here, you should reach the hangar.

But do you really want to? Can you?

No, you can’t. You’ll break down, that much is certain, but do you have a choice? Could you live with yourself, not having gone to look with your own two eyes?

You pass multiple piles of droid remains, and some dead bodies clad in the maroon color of the Naboo guard, which does little to soothe your sorrow.

The hangar, too, is deserted, and you head straight for the high gate that you watched the men disappear through just minutes ago. Before everything changed.

The gate opens after you press a button on the control panel and you fall into a sprint to the generator. There is a glimmer of stupid, unreasonable, unjustified hope in you still, and the closer you get to the scene, the faster you run.

You round a corner and immediately crash into someone, stumbling backwards and barely catching yourself before falling.

Your jaw drops.

The man before your eyes is the Jedi padawan, the one who took everything, the one who killed Maul, staring at you with wide eyes as if he hadn’t just destroyed your life.

Behind him lies the body of his master - he must have dropped it when you ran into him.

He still hasn’t moved, and neither have you. He could kill you, quite easily probably, with as distraught you are. Maybe he should - it certainly would be more pleasant than Darth Sidious deciding to dispose of you. The thought alone sends you into another fit of shivers.

The padawan holds your stare for another moment, then he lifts his master’s body again and staggers past you.

You watch him leave in shock. He is not going to fight you? He is not going to even ask you why you are running towards the reactor? And you? Shouldn’t you at least try to get revenge for what he did? The killer of the one person you loved is right here, and you are letting him get away just like that.

But you are a survivor. You have always been.

And if letting the Jedi get away means you will live to see another day, then so be it. You will survive purely out of spite, and one day, you will get revenge.

You start running again, until the reactor shaft appears in your vision.

And of course he is not there. How would he? You watched him die, how could your desperate mind even let you think he might still be there, alive, hanging on to a pipe just like the Jedi did?

You sink to your knees, the tears running freely now, and you feel so, so alone in the universe.

You will live, if only to live the days that were taken from him. There is still fire glowing in your chest, and the looming darkness that being alone presents will not be able to extinguish it.

‘Your purpose,’ his voice resounds in your head, ‘is to live.’

When he said that, you thought he meant that you are of no use to the cause if you are dead.

Not, that should he die, you shall live.

“I will live,” Your whisper echoes through the air, the only answer you get the repetition of your own words, combined with dry sobs from somewhere deep in your chest.

You will live.

_____

So! Angst!! That's always fun :)))

I have already started planning and mapping out my ideas for a part two that's set during the Clone Wars era. I plan on posting a little teaser soon, but the story itself is still going to take some time. Also, my classes are starting again, so I don't know how much time I'm going to have.

I already have so many ideas for things I could do in a part II, and I'm really excited to share them in the near future :)

Thank you to everyone who has read this. It means the world to me when I hear somebody likes what my garbage brain produces.

All comments/messages/asks are welcome anytime, and I’m still going to be active on here <3

Everyone on the tag list: Unless you don’t want me to, I’ll keep tagging you for part II, if that’s ok :)

____

@princessayveke @spaghetti-666 @larawl @noiralei @secretnerd00 @bagpipes606 @zabrak-show @brilliantbutbatty

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #sith #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars reader insert

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thelastspeecher · 4 years ago

Text

D&D AU - Elf Kid Adventures, Pt. 2

Electric Boogaloo

I actually have two more scenes planned to tie up this little story arc in my D&D AU where Stan is half-orc and half-elf. I originally was going to include those scenes in this post, but then these two scenes on their own were much longer than I expected. So, uh, here’s some awkward stuff, some angst, some “aww” moments, and most importantly, a whole mess of Stan being head over heels for Angie.

Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Stan couldn’t decide whether the expectation he did chores was the worst part or the best part of staying at the McGucket farmstead. On the one hand, he had to get up when Ole Tinbeak – the earliest rising rooster – crowed. On the other hand, the praise from Mr. McGucket never seemed to end.

“Excellent!” Mr. McGucket said cheerfully, watching Stan lug a bale of hay twice his size. “I must say, Stanaximus, yer the strongest elf I’ve ever seen, and yer only a child right now!” Stan grinned despite the straws of hay poking his face. “Would ya consider employment as a farmhand?”

“Thanks,” Stan said, slipping into the manners that Mrs. McGucket had insisted on drilling into him. “But I like being a ranger with Angie and Lute.”

“Fair enough,” Mr. McGucket said. Stan set down the bale of hay. His vision now unobscured, he spotted Lute standing a few feet away. Lute had never seemed that intimidating to Stan before, and his new age (and matching immature wardrobe with many pairs of shorts) only served to hinder his continued attempts. He was in his thirties, according to Mrs. McGucket, which made him like a human five-year-old.

“He’s only bein’ nice to you ‘cause yer a guest,” Lute hissed. Stan snorted.

“If you could see through all that hair, you’d know that’s not true,” he replied. Lute lifted the dark bangs that covered his eyes to glare at Stan.

“I can see just fine,” Lute snapped. Stan grinned.

“Aw, is someone grumpy ‘cause he’s overdue for a nap?” Stan teased. Lute blushed fiercely. The McGucket parents had insisted Lute have at least one nap a day at this age. Something about the extra rest being particularly important for growing elves. “Maybe you should go sleep.”

“You-” Lute started. Mr. McGucket came over. He took his youngest son’s hand.

“He’s right, Lute. Stan, think ya can finish the chores if Angie helps?”

“Uh, sure. But I don’t know where she is,” Stan said slowly. Someone jumped down from the barn’s loft, landing lightly in front of Stan. Angie beamed at him. “…How long were you up there?” Angie shrugged.

“It’s startin’ to get a bit dark, so ya best check the fence fer breaks first, ‘fore night falls,” Mr. McGucket said, leading Lute out of the barn. Stan and Angie nodded. Once Mr. McGucket was gone, Stan turned to Angie.

“We’re supposed to check the fence?” he asked.

“Yep! Follow me.” Angie walked out of the barn. Stan followed. They went to the enclosed cattle pasture and began to follow the fencing. “Luckily, breaks ‘re pretty easy to spot,” Angie said cheerfully. “And easy to fix, too. Just a quick Mending.” Stan nodded silently, trying to ignore how the setting sun made her golden hair turn a fiery orange. They continued to walk in silence for a few moments. “Don’t let Lute get ya down,” Angie said in a low tone.

“Huh? Oh, I’m not.” Stan shrugged. “I actually kinda like being a kid again.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m-” Stan rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. “I’m not in that big of a rush to get this curse removed, to be honest.” Angie came to a stop, leaning against the fencing. Stan did the same. His hands gripped the wooden slats. Angie turned her head to face him. A few long golden strands of hair loose from her braid bounced with the movement. The sun cast her form in a brilliant halo.

“Why’s that?” she asked. Distracted by how she looked in the fading light, Stan didn’t hear her question.

“Huh?” he mumbled. Angie rolled her silver eyes. As dusk encroached, they began to glow with a faint foxfire.

“Why are ya not in a hurry to be back to normal?” she asked. “I thought ya missed yer tusks.” Stan sighed.

“I mean, I do.”

“Then what’s goin’ on?”

“I…” Stan trailed off. Angie scooted closer to him. Her hand rested next to his, their skin touching. Stan’s heartrate picked up. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out the truth. “I forgot how much better people used to treat me.” Angie’s eyes widened.

“…Pardon?” she asked.

Shit. Way to go, Stan. This is what you get for being so easily distracted by pretty girls.

“I grew up in a mostly human settlement,” Stan said quietly. “The only elf who lived in town was my mom. Looking like her, I got attention. But it was good attention, ‘cause a lotta humans are obsessed with elves. Even travelers passing through would sometimes stop and talk to me and my twin brother. I think…” Stan furrowed his brow. “I think my mom said that, if we had grown up in a proper elf environment, we wouldn’t be allowed to interact with visitors. I guess elf kids are considered really important, so they get kept away from outsiders. At least, that’s how it was where my mom grew up.”

“Ma says things were the same way where she came from,” Angie said. “She ‘n Pa had some disagreements ‘bout it when we were little. So it’s probably a high elf thing, not a specific place thing.”

“Yeah.” Stan took a breath. “I liked getting all that positive attention. But then my tusks started growing in, and my hair got darker, and I got bigger in a way that elves just aren’t.” Stan looked down at the dirt. He nudged a clump with the toe of his borrowed boot. “I stopped looking like my mom and started looking like my pops. And I don’t have a lick of human in me, so I don’t look like a proper half-orc. By the time I was sixteen, I looked full orc.” Angie made a strangled sound. Stan looked at her.

“Sixteen?” she choked out, shocked.

“Orcs don’t live that long. Until I became an adult, I aged close to the same rate humans do. I think I was about twenty when my elf side kicked in to slow it down.”

“Oh. Right.” Angie nodded. “You told me ‘fore that you were in yer sixties.”

“Yep. Haven’t aged a day in the last forty years, thanks to Mom.”

“Yes. Okay, continue yer story.”

“Well, I dunno how much there is left to tell. I looked like an orc, and you know how people treat orcs. Visitors stopped giving me treats and started putting their hands on their weapons when they saw me. Since that’s how it’s been for the last few decades, I forgot that people didn’t always look at me like I was about to kill them.”

“Even if you don’t get the curse reversed, you’ll start agin’ on yer own,” Angie pointed out. Stan’s stomach twisted into a knot. “Sooner rather than later, you’ll look like yer father again.”

“Yeah. I know.” Stan’s head drooped. “It’s just-”

“No need to explain. I understand,” Angie said firmly. She placed her hand over Stan’s. Stan’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s easier to be an elf than an orc.” She quirked a half-grin. “Though, just so’s ya know, I prefer yer orcish self to yer elvish self.”

“R-really?” Stan stammered. Angie nodded.

“Tusks ‘n all.”

-----

Stan had just finished his breakfast when Mr. McGucket entered the kitchen.

“Stanaximus?” he said. Stan looked over.

“Yeah?”

“Walk with me, son.”

“Um. Okay.” Stan deposited his plate in the sink and followed Mr. McGucket outside. “Did you need me for something?”

“I just need to have a lil chat with ya,” Mr. McGucket said airily. “But I think you’d prefer the chat happen where there aren’t ears to listen.” Dread began to build in Stan’s gut. The two walked off the main, cleared area that constituted the farmstead, and into the surrounding woods. Mr. McGucket moved through the trees like he was one with his surroundings, effortlessly silent and graceful. It was actually almost difficult for Stan to keep track of the man, as he blended in so well.

I mean, he is a wood elf. Makes sense.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket smiled.

“You courtin’ my youngest child,” he said simply. Stan stumbled over a root. Mr. McGucket caught him. “You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m-” Stan swallowed. “What makes you think I wanna court Angie?”

“I see the way ya look at her. Like she’s the sun, moon, ‘n stars. There’s no mistakin’ what that means.” Mr. McGucket looked at Stan. “You can deny all ya want after this conversation, but I want ya to be truthful durin’ it, okay?”

“…Fine,” Stan mumbled. He clenched his hands into fists and ground them into his eyes. “I…I really like Angie, and being a kid again has made it a lot worse.”

“Makes sense. Children have lesser control over their emotions, after all. Thank you fer bein’ willin’ to talk blunt with me.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Now, I encourage ya to court Angie, once you’ve all been returned to yer proper ages. But I needed to warn ya that a courtship with her won’t go without difficulties.”

“What- what do you mean?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket sighed.

“Politics. Yer a noble, and my wife, she…she was somethin’ sim’lar ‘fore she left her home to be with me. I don’t know whether she still has her title or not, and our children certainly don’t have any titles, but they do technically belong to a very powerful sun elf house. If you were a wood elf, or even just a reg’lar sun elf, I doubt it would be a problem. As it is, it might not be. But it could be. So I figured I’d warn ya.”

“But I’m not noble,” Stan said. Mr. McGucket frowned at him. “You guys keep insisting I am, but I’m not! Maybe my mom is, or was, but my pops, he was about as far from noble as you can get.”

“Was?”

“…Pops passed away a few decades ago,” Stan said quietly.

“My condolences.”

“I don’t need ‘em. He was a kinda shit father.”

“Hmm.” At Mr. McGucket’s thoughtful, though noncommittal, sound, Stan looked up. There was a troubled look on the man’s face. “Would that be related to the scars on yer back and arms?”

“How- how do you-”

“Harper saw when he took ya to the lake to swim last week,” Mr. McGucket explained. Stan stifled a curse. The oldest McGucket son, Harper, had showed up unexpectedly with his adopted children, then insisted on them all doing activities during his visit. Harper was an incredibly odd person, but Stan thought he was at least tolerable.

At least, I used to think that. Now that I know he’s a snitch? Nah.

“I want to revisit this at a later time,” Mr. McGucket said after a moment. “Right now, we need to talk about you courtin’ my daughter.”

Do we?

“There’s no doubt you have noble blood, Stan. Just yer full name is one that’s indicative of high status. Even if ya don’t have a noble title or upbringing, ya have it in yer heritage.” Mr. McGucket cocked his head thoughtfully. “Though not havin’ a title will prob’ly make it so Angie’s own royal blood ain’t a factor.”

“Did you say ‘royal’?” Stan croaked. A twinkle entered Mr. McGucket’s eye.

“Yes.” Stan’s jaw dropped. “Now, I will say- wait.”

“What?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket now looked at him with visible concern.

“Open yer mouth, son.” Before Stan could comply or refuse, Mr. McGucket carefully pried his jaws open, looking at his teeth like he was determining a horse’s age. “Oh, no. Are these…fangs?” Instantly, Stan broke into a cold sweat.

Fuck! My tusks! They started coming in! Mr. McGucket released his hold and took a step back, worry etched on his face. Stan closed his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Stan said quickly.

“Son, you have two teeth what shouldn’t be there, and what look awful dif’rent from yer other teeth.”

“It’s, um…” Stan’s mind raced. “My pops, he got cursed when he was younger, and it got passed down to me somehow.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a problem.”

“Maybe. But when we get this main curse off ya, we’ll take a look at this one that made ya grow fangs.”

“Maybe…”

Gods, no, there’s no way in any of the planes that I’d let some elf take my tusks away. Stan and Mr. McGucket entered a large clearing. Stan blinked at the farmhouse before them. Without him realizing, they’d walked back to the McGucket farmstead. Mr. McGucket put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yer a very interestin’ young man,” he said.

Damn, and he doesn’t even know I’m half-orc.

“I’d like to have many more conversations with ya. But since yer likely to woo my daughter, I have no doubt I’ll have plenty of opportunities to chat.”

“I might not court her,” Stan said quietly. The second he spoke, he knew it was a lie. There was no chance he wouldn’t shoot his shot.

“It’d be a shame if ya didn’t, since ya have not just my blessin’, but that of my wife, too.” Mr. McGucket squeezed Stan’s shoulder. “And not to mention, we wouldn’t push ya to court if we didn’t think it would go well.” Stan swallowed. “All right, ya can go back to denyin’ now. I have to go run a few errands, and you have some chores.”

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Stan headed for the barn. As he approached, Angie emerged from it. She caught sight of him and waved. Stan’s heart did yet another backflip upon seeing her. She came over to him.

“Were ya in the woods with my pa?” she asked.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, he didn’t try to hunt me or anything. He just wanted to talk.”

“What were you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“How you’re actually a long-lost elven princess,” Stan said casually. Angie gasped and punched his shoulder. “Nah, it was just weird stuff where he called me ‘son’ a lot and wanted to know about my family.”

“He called ya ‘son’, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds to me like he was askin’ ‘bout yer fam’ly ‘cause he considers ya part of ours.” Angie winked. “Good luck with that.” Stan grinned confidently.

“I think I can handle your family. I mean, I handle you all right,” he said. Angie threw her head back and laughed.

“I’ll let ya continue to think that.”

#hhhhhh I love writing Stan simping for Angie and vice versa. just love me some Stangie #btw no clue when I'll write the finale for this story arc #hopefully during my days off for Thanksgiving next week #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Lute McGucket #Pa McGucket #McGucket Family #DnD AU #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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