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alpydk · 4 months ago

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Confessions

You asked for a sequel to Consequences so here I bring it.

Part 1 - Tav slept with Mizora, Gale left as we all know. Hate sex ensues at the epilogue party. That's it. Part 2 - They have another encounter - sex ensues. That's it.

Word Count - 3950 words CW - Angst/Smut - Happy ending ^^

The wedding invitation lay on the table, ivory parchment with a cherry red embossed trimming.

Karlach and Shadowheart... Baldur’s Gate... Elient...

It had been six months since the party where they had last met up, where Tav had last seen and spoke with Gale. She gritted her teeth at the memory, one of silver cups splayed in front of her, of her braid pulled taut behind her as he controlled her climax with a sense of dominance she had never seen before. “Now, my dear Tav. Say please.” She smirked to herself at the image of him behind her, his cock pressed against her, his eyes darkened with desire and anger. They had lain on that table for some time afterwards, their hearts beating in unison, an unspoken apology between them which remained unspoken. And now would soon come a wedding, an event that always came with drama of some sort.

Tav picked up the nearby quill, the decision of whether to attend or not posed at her fingertips. To see him again or not after what had last happened...

---

“Leaving so soon?” Gale felt the shift of Tav’s weight from next to him, her ebony braid dragging across his tunic before he had the chance to realise what was happening.

She stood, pulling her scarlet dress down to cover her legs more modestly than where it had been hoisted up to. “It’s getting early, and I’m meant to be back in the city before lunch.”

The warmth he’d known for only a short while had again gone, replaced with the icy walls and defensiveness they’d started the party with. Despite the admittance of why she’d ran to Mizora and now the understanding of where each of them stood, it was clear one night of drunken, angry sex upon an oak table wouldn’t be enough to bury the hatred that had been spat between them with such venom and loathing.

He let out an exasperated huff of annoyance. Once again pushed aside, being punished by the one he supposedly loved. Maybe at this point he was the problem, constantly finding women to fill a void left within. He was certain there was some psychological aspect in play forcing him to go for women similar to his own strong-willed mother, and the concept sickened him, or possibly it was that of the bottle of wine which flowed throughout his system. “Gods forbid something be more important...” he muttered under his breath. Did he even want to give what they had a chance? Was it worth the pain, the heartache?

Tav selectively ignored his words, her body already bristling, a slight hangover drifting in with the taunting sunrise. How could she have been so reckless, so desperate to have him? She shuddered at the thought. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, Gale,” she said, collecting her black lingerie from under the table.

He could see the curve of her arse as she bent over, his body betraying his mind in one fell swoop, and he took the chance of her back being turned to him to sit up and hastily tie the drawstrings on his trousers. A little tighter than normal, he remarked internally, making sure not to make the same mistake as some hours before. “You don’t think we should perhaps discuss-”

She cut him off before the words could even be produced from his wine-tinged lips. “A drunken mistake made by two lonely and desperate people. No different than it was at Moonrise.”

---

They didn’t speak after she had said those words, the harshness of them still causing her to hang her head in shame even now. That night at Moonrise had meant everything to her at one point, how they had admitted their love to one another, how he had conjured the soft bedsheets that smelt of lavender before worshipping her for hours in more ways than she could ever have dreamt of. Yet six months ago she was done, tired of their arguments, tired of Mystra and Mizora, but most of all, tired of him. She had to say it, the worst thing she could ever come up with, just to give them both finally a chance of moving on.

Her heart had broken behind her built up walls. She would not show him how guilty or hurt she was by all that had transpired. She’d simply brushed herself down and walked away from the campsite, her braid hanging down behind the scarlet dress she’d never wear again.

Since that night she had dated others, worked her way through numerous men and women looking for that same spark that ignited the flames within her, causing them to burn so brightly. She’s tried being submissive with a few, allowing them to order her around, praise her, punish her if that’s what they desired, but none came close to how he had been that night with her. The sensation lived under her skin. It swelled with the memories of him: his dark eyes, firm hands gripping her hips, a voice that controlled her very essence.

As she glanced at the invitation, she let out a deep breath and stretched out her back. She knew she would have to be there, two of her closest friends finally tying the knot, Karlach’s infernal engine fixed after almost a year in Avernus battling for her life. Tav also knew though that he would be there too, dressed in his finest, his heart once again stitched back together after the damage she had done. Black ink flowed onto the parchment, soaking through a tad before she removed the quill. The date was set, the confirmation given, the anxiety building with the thoughts of what was left of the man she’d once loved.

---

The sun was slowly setting over the small chapel on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. It was a modest church, large enough for a small party of friends and family, far enough away from the city that the sound of hustle and bustle could not reach it. Its white wooden doors lay open, welcoming a soon to be married couple and their guests, and with it came a light wind blowing autumn leaves into the aisle.

Gale sat alone inside on a pew. He’d been the first to arrive, and it seemed only suitable to check over the readings for the ceremony: selected poems he knew all too well. Admiring the red lilies and night orchids, which had been woven together, creating elaborate floral displays over the altar and around the confessionals, he couldn’t help but think. The colours complimented one another well, the crimson shades merging with the hints of purple. His mind drifted back to his old, tattered robes, the cherry red shirt that often lay with them in the corner of his tent as the sun rose during their travels. Nights devoted to making her smile.

He shifted uncomfortably, moving his attention to his suit. He’d gone away from purples long ago, Mystra’s influence tainting the colour with reminders of their weave touched relationship and for this occasion he had decided that simple was best. The black waistcoat he had chosen showed the physique he had been working on the last few months, his forearms toned and displayed from a navy shirt as he rolled the sleeves to a comfortable level.

He was already feeling the nerves, ones that he had tried to shift so many times in the last few weeks, and as his fingertips drifted to unbuttoning his collar, he knew it wasn’t likely to pass easily just by sitting and waiting for company. He rose from his seat, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension, and looked to the main doors of the chapel where moonlight was making its appearance. Soon the others would arrive, but now he needed to stretch his legs and enjoy the little peace that was available.

As the cool breeze blew through the waves of his hair, he spotted Tav walking up the quiet path towards him. Her head was faced away from his, her eyes drawn to the line of wildflowers that grew along the verge. She looked as beautiful as she ever had. Her dark hair hung down around her shoulders, silver beads placed in thin braids glistened as they caught light. Tav had kept her pattern of wearing red; this time, her short figure-hugging dress replaced with one that pinched her waist but flared out at the base. Her pale legs were still on display just as they’d been at the party and for a moment, he was dragged back to the memory of running his hands up those thighs as he’d done so many times before.

He turned his back on her, choosing instead to walk around the other side of the chapel, hoping that before she noticed him, others would arrive, and their interaction could be kept at a safe minimum. He would not make the same mistake as last time.

---

“And now we will hear a brief poetry reading from Gale.” Astarion made sure to emphasise just how brief it would be as he left his position at the altar. Despite it being over two hundred years since his position of magistrate, somehow Baldarian law still gave him the allowance to operate and, as such, he had found himself in the unfortunate position of officiating the wedding of his two old friends. He stepped aside, letting Gale taking charge, hearing the nervous heartbeat that beat so relentlessly.

There were few guests in attendance who weren’t already at the party six months previously, but something about standing before them all, speaking words of love and commitment, filled him with an emotion he wished would vanish. A part of him knew this should have been his day, where the poem read would instead have been vows spoken with devotion to the one he loved. If only they had simply talked to one another.

“Good evening, my dear friends. It’s been some time once again since we last gathered like this. It’s good to see you all.” His eyes passed briefly over Tav; the words meant more for her than anyone in sitting in the room. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Well-” A nervous breath caught him, but it was enough to help him focus his attention. “For this most splendorous of occasions, I have indeed prepared a short poem which I would like to present to our most beautiful of couples.”

Karlach and Shadowheart stood before him, their hands entwined, their eyes glued on one another. The world around them may not have existed as they gazed lovingly at one another, a way in which Gale himself had once looked at Tav. His smile at them briefly turned sad before he shifted the memory and moved on quickly to reading.

His eyes met Tav’s as she watched, words originally meant for her now spoken openly. He hoped she knew this was for her, how despite everything, despite the anger and the heartbreak, it was always for her.

She glanced away from him, a rogue tear escaping her, which she was quick to wipe away. His deep brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, and she wished things could be different between them. How they both wished all this could be different, how the longed-for apologies could be said between one another. How they wished they could find a way back to one another.

---

The ceremony ended, and Karlach and Shadowheart were eager to leave after accepting congratulations from everyone, a quick passing comment about seeing stars heard by a few at the exit to the chapel. Tav stood by the simple altar, rolling the petals of the lilies between her fingertips, lost in her own thoughts of the wedding and all that had occurred.

“A lovely evening, don’t you think?”

Gale’s tentative voice brought her back to reality, her hand quickly drawn from the flowers. Within the hallowed walls of the church, she did not want to fight as they had done the previous times, instead she kept herself quiet, hesitant, and watchful of his actions.

“Hm. It was. Your poetry was very...” She pondered over the words, trying to find something that would explain how much she enjoyed it, but not strong enough that he would see through to the emotions that had been sitting on her sleeve all evening. “...well written.”

He stepped closer to her, and he noticed the way her dress caught with the breeze from the open door, allowing him to catch sight of her inner thigh. “Well, it seemed an important occasion to put in a little more effort into rather than my previous dabbles with poetry.”

“I’m sure they both appreciated it.” Tav could feel as he grew closer to her, her eyes catching on the way he seemed leaner since their last meeting. His body seemed firmer, his trousers snugger upon his groin, the shirt hugging his upper arms in a way that made her want to bite her lower lip. She kept her composure. “You look really well, Gale.”

“I took some time after our last encounter to work on myself a little.”

“Well, it suits you.”

At the altar they stood facing one another, moonlight shining through the small windows, autumn leaves blown along the aisle. She looked up into his eyes, her heart beating in anticipation after what had occurred at the party. It felt as if something were in the air, a powerful force that could not be resisted drawing her to him each time they met, but this time, the anger was muted within the sacred walls.

Gale lifted his hand, brushing a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear, his touch soft and cautious, as if they were together at Moonrise once again and he was expecting rejection. “Tav...”

Just as last time she interrupted him, but this time not with venom filled words. Instead, she brought her lips to his, a resignation to the surrounding forces which bound their souls together. He responded in kind, a hand brought to her cheek and holding her steady, the other grasped to the fabric of her dress and pulling her hips towards his. He broke off the kiss, letting out a shaky breath, searching her eyes for the certainty that this was what she wanted.

She drew herself towards him again, an answer to his unspoken question, flushed lips on his in wanting, but when he did not return her kiss, she pulled back, a hint of rejection she did not wish to show lingering in her mind. “We both know how this is going to end,” she said, desire in her eyes.

“Precisely. We do.” Gale’s grasp on her hip loosened ever so slightly, the hand on her cheek moved lightly to her hair, his fingers curling between the locks. “We’ll share in each other’s bodies and as our souls return to their cages, we will part, just as we have before.”

“So, this is it? The end of everything?”

He looked to the braids in her hair, to how they twisted and turned just like that of the Weave he was so fond of. Everything in him screamed to let go of her, to walk away and never see her again, to find peace. But his heart whispered amongst the din. It ignored the arguments; it ignored the hateful comments they had shared; it ignored the lust. There were only the nights before Mizora, ones where he and Tav had lain simply together, her hand on his chest, their hearts beating together in sync. There had been unsaid acts of love before and after they’d even admitted their feelings, the day where she had held him close after Elminster had told him of his doomed fate, the night where they had simply cried together after Bhaal had killed her and she’d been born anew. How had so many moments vanished with that one mistake? How had so much hate been born from what was once unbound love?

“Gale, tell me. Is this it? If it is, I’ll accept.” Tav’s words were honest, the exhaustion she had felt six months ago bursting through. She didn’t want to fight anymore; she had no fight left in her. All she wanted was to move on, to know he could move on.

His gaze went from the braids to her eyes, moistened, reflecting the moonlight. The whisper grew into a shout that he could no longer ignore. It couldn’t end this way. They found one another again, a tenderness not shared in so long as hands moved from tight clasping to gentle strokes, as passionate kisses were replaced with delicate exploration. He found himself pushing her backwards, the confessional booth the only place of any privacy within the chapel. She was pushed up against the white door of it, the scarlet lilies brushing over her shoulder as she nudged open the door with the base of her heel.

There was little room and even less light behind the closed door, and Tav was quick to shift Gale onto the small bench that met them. “Forgive me, father...”

“Oh, none of that, my love. We do not plan to draw the eyes of any deities in here.”

She pressed herself onto him, feeling the growing bulge under his trousers, grinding her hips into him, allowing her own body to react with need. “Not much room in here.”

Gale smirked. He knew exactly what she spoke of as he felt the ache of his erection pushing on the tight fabric, but for once last time he play with her. “Well, there’d be more room if you hadn’t gained weight.”

“Prick.” Tav scowled, before slipping her tongue into his mouth, finding his and sucking it with wanton desire.

He reacted in kind, his hands moving up under her legs and positioning her straddled across his lap. As she arched herself into him, rubbing herself down against him, she released the slightest of moans and he could feel the way she quivered with each rock of her hips. He brought a hand further up her thigh, dipping under the cloth of her skirt and tracing the lace of her underwear.

A soft mewl told him how heated she was already, how she chased her climax so readily upon his lap. His fingers danced above the fabric, tracing a line down her cunt, feeling as she leaned into his hand instinctively. He released her mouth from his, letting her bury her head into the crook of his neck, heated breaths poured onto his skin. “You’re so eager, as always.”

“Only with you... Only ever with you,” she gasped, feeling as his fingertips slipped onto her naked flesh, languid lines becoming rhythmic circles where she needed them most. Her heart raced, her eyes closed, and all she could do was savour the moments as her wants and needs became a blessed reality. “Gods, Gale...”

A part of him was tempted to tease her as he had last time, a consequence of all she had done, but as she whimpered into him, his name on her desperate lips, all he wanted was more of her, to give to her again as he had done so long ago, to worship her, to love her. He increased his pace, listening as whimpers became moans, as she pulled her head back and bucked herself shamelessly into his hand.

She felt herself nearing her edge, felt the familiar swelling almost at breaking point, the knowledge that it was him doing this to her spurring her on and making it impossible to resist any longer. “Gale...” she gasped through parted lips. Looking down at him in the low-lit confession booth was all it took for the thin strand of control to snap, her orgasm hitting hard and fast, her muscles tensing and clenching. His hand was removed, but with that, she found herself perched again over his lap, his trousers appearing visibly uncomfortable as she lowered herself onto them, trying to ground herself as the world spun around her.

Gale sighed as she sat atop him, her breath slowly returning to normal. He was remaining patient, wanting each second to span an eternity should it all come crashing down again around them. It wasn’t long though before her hands found the rim of his trousers, tugging at them, and letting her mouth return to his. Very little time was spent taunting with what he had that she wanted more of, his trousers and underwear pulled down, hers left abandoned around one ankle and her dress hoisted up over his lap as she straddled him once again.

Through gritted teeth, he spoke as she hovered above him. “I have something to confess.”

“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” Tav purred, lowering herself onto him, sighing as her body adjusted to his size within her. She’d never forgotten how good he felt, never found anything that compared to him.

He breathed through the relaxed roll of her hips, but noted the way her arousal was building quicker with each thrust into her. “Maybe... but now or never...”

His words were falling on death ears as her hands explored the sides of his abdomen, more toned than six months ago, less to grip, but the sight made her wish she had the composure to remove his waistcoat and shirt, to see what lay beneath, teasing her. She wanted to reply, but words were escaping her, his rhythm, his angle, the forearm that held her close as she arched her body into him, wanting more of him, needing more.

A firm hand gripped her hip, preventing her from writhing, allowing him to plunge into her more firmly, to let him feel every needed bit of her. “I love you, Tav...”

The words hit her hard, the confession that he still loved her even after everything making her heartbeat quicken, her climax upon her in an instance.

He felt as she tightened around him, her walls contracting, putting pressure on him. His movements became more demanding, more focused as he sought his own release. Whispered words met his ears, words of love and care, confessions of her own singing out through satisfied breaths. His hips snapped into her, the bench beneath and her above giving little room for him to leave her fully, just a constant pressure wrapped around him, bringing him to his precipice.

The more he rutted into her, the more she began to whine, wave after wave of pleasure, an orgasm ending only to lead into another as one of his hands once again found her sensitive bundle of nerves. “I love you... I love you...” she screamed out from the confines of the enclosed stall.

Those words, the admission of truth were all it took. Gale gripped her closely, his body jerking as he spilled himself into her. Her neck was on his lips in seconds, the salted taste of her sweat upon his tongue welcome as aftershocks caused him to convulse into her further. With each one came another gasped moan, soon growing quieter and quieter as both relaxed into one another’s gentle embrace.

They held each other for some time in the darkened shadows of the confessional, as moonlight became the lazy rise of a sun within the chapel. They had shared how they both felt, forgiven each other without spoken apologies, shared their love just as they had once done. For now, all they had was this one night, one under stars and shadows of a stall, amongst scarlet lilies and dark purple night orchids. Talking could come later.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #consequences sequel #no more #pls be satisfied

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megamindsecretlair · 11 months ago

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The King and I, Part 4

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND ANGST. Mentions of violence, forceful touching. PIV, Fingering and oral (fem receiving) , all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: You hid in your room unwilling to witness any budding love between King Ghezo and his new bride. You hid in your room until you could not take the loneliness anymore and decided to not let this define you. An unexpected conversation allows you to see things differently.

Word Count: 5,636k

A/N: What a way to come back from being sick, I hope I still got it LOL. This one definitely had to marinate because he needed to come correct! I hope you enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @badassdoll @kinginwithbreezy-blog @chrishy973 @skyesthebomb @blackelysian @yayasworldview @wakandamama @thadelightfulone

You hated her. You hated everything she represented. You were sick to your stomach at the mere thought of her hands all over him, her laughter making him smile. At the thought of her sitting in “your spot” with the King, watching the sunrise that she’s probably seen a hundred times by now.

You spent the majority of your days in your room avoiding them. You took your meals in your room and spent your days reading or looking out over your balcony. You didn’t care what people thought.

You were a mountain and no one could scale it if you didn’t wish it so. You were unyielding. You were…lonely.

The King had been a saving grace from that loneliness. You finally belonged to someone and that feeling was invaluable to you. Someone would actually care if you fell off the face of the world. Or so you thought.

Tomorrow was the wedding and you were expected to attend, just like the first wife. Was this why she was so silent? Did she silently hate you that whole time? Forced to concede her spot at the table to someone newer, younger?

You sat on your bed with your knees drawn. You stared at the dress you were expected to wear at the wedding. You hated that dress. You wanted to rip it to shreds and throw it at the King’s feet.

The anger and hate felt better than the burning sadness in your chest. How it burrowed. How it ate at every vein and cell in your body. The sadness took everything. It stole your breath, your dreams, and your very will. You cried yourself to sleep every night this week.

Every morning, the King knocked on your door and begged you to listen to him. To talk to him. He asked you if you would kill him today. You were too sad to entertain your little game.

In one fell swoop, he gave you the greatest night of your life and the worst morning you ever lived through.

You couldn’t get over the embarrassment and shame. How everyone stood and looked at you while he introduced…her. They were all in on it, meeting her, and talking to her. No one ever did anything like that for you.

You were tossed like garbage at his doorstep. There was no grand welcoming. Just a sassy eunuch who saw you for the common village girl you were.

Fresh tears fell from your eyes but you wiped them away. Fuck this. You did not break.

You did not break under your Father’s cruel hands and words. You did not break when your Mother begged you to accept the latest farm owner, sheep herder, or market owner who dared ask your Father for your hand in marriage. You did not break when men put their hands on you when your Father wasn’t looking. You did not break when girls in the village would spit on you, tear your hair, or call you names to your face. You did not break when they would trip you and make you spill buckets full of water. You did not break when you had to turn around and go back to the river to fill them up again. You did not break.

You got out of bed and called for your servant. She entered a moment later, eyeing you wearily. You had been icy towards her and her attempts to help. You apologized and she helped you get dressed in a bright orange dress and wrap your hair up in a scarf. You left the room, breathing fresh air for the first time all week.

You did not care if you ran into the King and his new little bride. Let her have him. You only wished he planted a baby inside of you already so that you fulfilled your duty as a wife and he had no more cause to touch you.

You kept your head held high as you made your way to the training grounds. The sounds of clashing swords met you first as you rounded the corner. Even with all these people in the palace, you were still alone.

You took up your post and watched the Agojie run through their training drills. You watched as they sliced up straw dummies. As they practiced with swords. As they drilled, taking each other down. Their ferocity gave you chills.

After they dueled, they always helped each other stand with jokes and a smile. Through sweat and tears, they continued through, bonding in ways you could only look at. Never participate in.

The sun reached its peak, so you decided to move on. You needed to stretch your bones. Feel the grass beneath your feet. Remember that you were somebody before the King and you remain somebody after.

In the palace gardens, you circled the wide space looking at all of the exotic flowers. They bloomed and stretched towards the sun. You walked around the path, scrunching the grass beneath your toes. As far as sensations went, you preferred the sand. Maybe you could visit the sandy beach tonight.

No one cared where you went or what you did. That thought still made you sad but you could also think of it another way. No one was watching you. There was freedom in that. You could move through the halls with no one to gauge your every footfall.

You rounded the base of a thick tree and nearly stepped on the first wife’s hand. “Oh! I’m sorry!” You stepped back and she looked up at you.

She was sitting in the grass with a baby in her lap. Her other son toddled after a butterfly.

“I’ll leave,” you said.

“It’s okay to love him, you know,” she said. You turned back around and looked at her. She adjusted the squirming baby in her arms. You finally recognized that she was breastfeeding.

“What?” You asked.

“It’s okay to love the King.” She continued to adjust the baby until it latched onto a nipple and settled down. She cooed to him and encouraged him. You looked at her face. She still looked as calm and blank as she ever did. This was perhaps the first time you ever heard her speak.

She was silent during the council meetings. Silent at breakfast. At least this answered your questions on if she could even speak.

You dropped to your knees beside her and absently picked at the grass. “How can you not hate me?”

She smiled at the toddler as it giggled and fell back on his butt. He climbed to his feet, little face concentrated as you’d often seen the King look, and then chased after the butterfly again.

“I have no hate in my heart for something I cannot control. I knew I would not be his only wife, the only bearer of his children. He is a King. He is expected to have many wives to show how rich he is. How prosperous. He is to be surrounded by it,” she said.

“Didn’t you want to tear my eyes out at breakfast?” You asked.

She giggled and it was a light, tinkling sound that made you smile with her. You didn’t feel like you were being mocked or talked down to. In a lot of ways, she made you think of your best friends back in the village. You’d give anything to talk to them right now.

“You were enjoying your marriage. You are supposed to kiss your husband,” she said and shook her head. “Kissing him takes nothing from me. Being in his bed does not mean he will not still come to mine.”

You were not as gracious. The thought of him being in anyone else’s bed made you sick with anger. Like you wanted to light the whole place on fire and let it burn. What she was saying was no different than what the King had told you. He had a special relationship with her as he hoped to have with you. As he will have with…her.

“Why are you speaking to me now?” You asked as you continued to pick at the grass.

“Why did it take so long for you to speak to me?” She asked and shrugged. “In a lot of ways, you are still young. Your emotions pull you through the world. You had to experience all of it before you were open to anything I had to say,” she said.

She moved the baby to her shoulder and placed a cloth there. She tapped on the baby’s back.

A fire boiled in your gut and you wanted to call her names. You wanted to scream and rage that she didn’t know you. She had no idea what all you’d been through to bring you to this point. It wasn’t her damn business what you did with the King. But you swallowed it all back down.

You needed this connection to someone else. To someone who’d been through this already. “Alright then, what is it that you have to say?”

“It is okay to love the King. You may think that you only get a piece of him because he gives pieces of himself to the land, to the kingdom, to the council, to the Agojie, to the Oyo, to me. He gives all of himself to the land, the council, to me, to you. He is who he is,” she said.

You laughed bitterly and rolled your eyes. “Did he put you up to this?”

She smiled. “The King cannot make me do what I do not wish to. I wish to not live in a bitter household with slammed doors and a sad King. I like my King happy. You make him happy,” she said.

The toddler fell forward and began crying. You moved to get up but she held out her hand. “He will be alright,” she said and waved him off. You watched as the baby cried and cried, looking towards the first wife. When he realized that she wasn’t getting up, his cries slowed. Then he sniffled and hiccuped until he wiped his eyes, stood up, and kept moving.

“How can you be so calm about this?” You asked. You were about to explain further, that she seemed so knowledgeable about…everything. But she looked at you and smiled.

“I will spare you the details of how I got here, but you can picture it,” she said. She held out her arm. There were gouges, scratches, and burns marring her skin that made you hiss as you looked at them. “I’ve already survived the worst things men can do to women and I’m still here. I’m happy, I’m fed, I have two beautiful sons. I’m safe.

“But do not think for one second that I am calm. I am expected to push these children out for a man in constant danger from enemies. To political rivals or discontent in the palace. One hint of weakness and they will come for my babies. Or, they will grow up and be expected to give their lives for this kingdom. They will be cut down or full of holes from those bullets the devils brought with them. I am the furthest from calm. Because if I lose my babies, as it stands, the King will lose his hold on this kingdom. You have not given him sons. This new bride may or may not, remains to be seen. And he is the best king we have seen in a long time.”

“So I am to be a broodmare no matter what,” you spat.

“You are to be a wife to your husband! And the only one making it difficult is you! And your childish notion that you are supposed to be the only one he cares for. It is not all or nothing! You cared for your Mother and Father, didn’t you? Your friends? Your family? Some knot-headed little boy who smiled at you from time to time? Did you expect to be the only one they cared for as well?”

It may be childish but it wasn’t a stupid notion. After being picked last your whole life, it was difficult to conceive of a world where you weren’t the only person in your husband’s life.

It was not uncommon for regular men to have more than one wife. The really wealthy ones took more wives to basically create a labor source for their businesses. Some chose to only have one partner, like your parents, and look how miserable your mother was. Perhaps she would have been better had your father had multiple wives.

Then again, your father was so evil, it was a wonder he managed to trap your mother in marriage. He was not capable of love in his heart. And you would not wish him on anyone else. You would have liked to have siblings though. Perhaps you would have learned to share better.

“You’re an annoying older sister I never had,” you told her.

She laughed and it transformed her whole face. She looked much younger and softer as she did so, throwing her head back. “You are a stubborn younger sister I wish I had,” she said.

Your chest swelled with an inexplicable feeling of closeness. She held out her hand and you took it. She squeezed it. “It can start with us. We don’t have to be enemies,” she said.

You told her your name. She smiled. “I’m Ayi,” she said.

Topics moved on to much better things like her children, the Agojie. You did mention some things about your upbringing. Your story became much clearer once she realized that you were an only child. It wasn’t by choice. In fact, it was a constant source of irritation with your father.

The sun was starting to disappear in the sky. You had been out with her all day long and hadn’t realized it. Her sons were growing sleepy and it was time for them to eat and go to sleep. She asked that you at least kept an open mind. She didn’t like seeing her husband pouting into his breakfast.

You did take some pleasure in that. You didn’t doubt his feelings towards you, you only wished that he had been more upfront with you. This self-imposed exile was more for you to get a handle on your emotions. To have time to sift through your thoughts and feelings so that you could examine each one with care.

But you’d be a liar if you weren’t grateful that he hurt, even just a little. It was a rotten thing to wish for your husband, but it was true. You wanted him to feel a fraction of what you felt this past week. The pain, hurt, and shame at being made a fool of.

As if your thoughts summoned him, King Ghezo stood outside your room. His head was down and pressed against the door. His hands were planted on either side. He wore dark blue robes today filled with intricate square designs. His hair looked soft enough to sleep against and your fingertips ached with the memory of running your hands through it.

You stopped short to look at him but he must have heard you because he looked up. He faced you and took a few steps forward but you stepped back. You weren’t ready to face him. You weren’t prepared to see him just yet. You thought you’d see him tomorrow, during the wedding as you tried not to puke through the whole thing.

“I thought you were inside,” he said. His voice was soft. Your chest ached. His voice was one of the things you’d grown to look forward to hearing. Not hearing it these past few days hurt more than you were willing to admit.

“If I interrupted a speech, continue,” you said.

“That was not how I intended you to find out.”

“Did you know that you had already procured another wife while you were fucking me?” You asked.

His face twisted up and he sucked his teeth. “Don’t say it like that,” he said.

“Like what? Isn’t that what it was? Were you not fucking me while you were thinking of getting a new wife as soon as we were done? Fucking a baby into me so that you could move on and make more?”

“Do you want this conversation where everyone can hear?” He asked.

“They hear everything else.” You folded your arms across your chest and wrapped anger around you like a cloak.

The King took a few strides forward and you stood your ground as long as you could stand it. When he got within arm’s reach, you stepped away.

“Will you not even let me touch you?” He asked.

“Answer my questions,” you said.

“After everything we shared, do you think I was only fucking you? Is that really what you believe?” He asked.

It was hard to look him in the eyes because he looked so genuine. So genuinely hurt that you thought so little of him. But words meant nothing to you. They never did. Actions always spoke louder than words.

“How long did you know that she was coming before you climbed in my bed?”

“I have been in negotiations with her father for months before you came into my life. But we had months still before we could come to be allies against the Oyo. When he heard that I married you, he panicked. We tried to assuage his fears but he is…a strange man. He sent her anyway. I had planned to tell you while we were at the beach,” he said.

“So you waited until she was here to tell me?”

“How was I supposed to know that she’d show up the next day or that you would let me touch you that night? What can I say to make you believe me?”

“I want the truth!” Tears were starting to burn in your eyes. You hated this. You hated feeling like you were on opposite ends again when you had found your way to trust him. To love him.

“Have I not given you everything you wanted, eh? You asked for space, I gave it. You asked for patience, I gave it. You said I earned your love and you won’t even let me kiss you. You hid all week from me. I am your husband!”

“You are my King!”

The King reared back as if you’d slapped him. “I am your husband!”

“You are my King!” You stepped away and he followed you until your back hit a wall. You thought you were stepping back in a straight line, but he had backed you into a corner at an angle. Your hands dug into the stonework, hands trembling.

“You want the truth? The truth is that I did not know she would arrive so soon. I thought I had more time. I thought I could spend more time with you, while you looked at me with love still in your heart. I did not know that you would let me touch you, let me take you to bed. That you would share your body with me. If I am guilty of anything, it is being selfish. Selfish with every little bit of yourself you’ve given me. I want more. I want to know your every thought, every smile, every word that crosses your lips. If you wish to kill me, then go ahead,” he said.

He stepped back and took off his robes, throwing it on the ground. His chest heaved with the passion of his words. He opened his arms and looked at you.

“Finish the job we joke about too often.” He slapped his chest. “Stab me in the heart that beats for you. Stab me in the chest so that I can have a wound outside that matches the wound inside at the thought of never touching you again. Never kissing you. I have changed so much about how I do things, for you. I am a King. I do not have to explain myself to anyone. And yet I will explain it all to you if you wish!”

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks as you watched him and listened to him. You didn’t even know why you were crying. He was offering you everything on a platter and you did not know how to cross the gap to him. As if there were invisible hands wrapped around you, pulling you from him, keeping you from just flinging yourself into his arms.

Your Father always said that you made things difficult. Ayi said the same thing. You didn’t trust when things were easy. If things were, it could be taken away just as easily.

The King got to his knees at your prolonged silence. Flickering candles in the hallway danced across his skin. His eyes were narrowed and focused on you as he looked up at you.

“Do you wish me to beg? To plead? To send her away? Ask me. Ask me to send her away and I will spite a kingdom for you. I cannot explain why you affect me in such ways. But I am here on my knees the night before a wedding, wanting you.”

You got to your knees as well. You scooted close to him and looked him in the eyes. “I want the truth from here on out. I…will get used to you having more wives or children. I won’t like it. But I don’t like to be blindsided and made a fool of. Can you promise me that?”

You were tired of fighting. Tired of trying to remain so strong that no one could knock you down. There was no one here to tear you down. There was no Agojie waiting in the winds to kill you. If you were lonely, it was because you made yourself lonely. And it didn’t have to be like that. You had Ayi and you had the King.

“I promise,” he said. “I vow to you as your husband.”

You kissed his cheek. “Then I will choose to forgive that you waited until the morning after loving me to tell me you’re getting married,” you said.

He sighed and dropped his head. “Can I make it up to you in a different way?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “How will you do that?” You asked.

A mischievous glint entered his eyes as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed, instantly melting into the kiss. You missed his lips on yours. His arms wrapped around your body as he held you closer, tighter. Your arms wrapped around his neck and clung to him while he kissed you. While you felt just how much he missed you with every pass of his tongue against yours.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there kissing him, but you never wanted to get up. Your knees protested otherwise. You shifted one too many times and the King finally picked you up, never breaking your kiss. He pressed your back into the wall, holding you up and kissing the absolute breath from you.

His hands cupped your ass, squeezing you. You moaned into his mouth. He never failed to ignite something deep within your core. A hunger that simmered just below the surface until you were able to draw it out with his lips on yours. His hands on your body. You’d only had him once and it wasn’t nearly enough.

He moved you, somewhere finding the energy to open your door and push inside. He closed the door with his foot and then walked you to your bed. He placed you onto it, your back hitting the soft cushion.

“Let me give you the wedding night we should have had,” he whispered.

Your balcony was open as it usually was, blowing a soft breeze into your room. It felt amazing over your feverish skin. The candles were lit, thanks to your servant, the covers turned down just waiting for you to get inside. You were thankful that you weren’t in here alone.

You nodded. “Please, I’d like that, husband,” you said.

The King smiled and covered you with his body. He was heavy and you made an oof sound underneath him, but you clung to him so that he wouldn’t let up. You liked being crushed by him. You rubbed your body against him like a cat, needing to feel him everywhere.

He took his time kissing you, content to just lay there with your legs wrapped lazily around his hips. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb lightly rubbing your cheek. Your hands grazed his back, feeling the wide expanse of him. The broadness. You lost yourself in just touching him. Feeling him. He was as close as possible and he was yours.

It could have been hours you spent there kissing him yet it felt like none passed at all. Your lips turned numb from the brutal heat of his kisses. His lips moved downward, trailing liquid fire down your jaw and neck. He planted kisses there as well as his hand moved lower to grab your ass again. Squeeze your thigh.

Your chorus of moans seemed to only pitch higher as he moved his hand back up to unwrap your dress and reveal your breasts. He took his time worshiping them. Squeezing them and suckling them into his mouth. His tongue flicked over your nipples causing your thighs to tighten around his hips. If it weren’t for his body in the way, you’d be squeezing them shut needing some type of relief or friction.

Your clit throbbed the longer he took his sweet precious time with your nipples. He rolled one between his fingers and you couldn’t help moving, stretching, needing him to do more.

“Is there a problem, wife?” He asked.

“More,” you moaned.

He smiled against your breast, licking the underswell of it. He pinched your nipple and you cried out at the unexpected bite of pain. “I think I like you twisting like this,” he said.

“Husband,” you moaned in warning. You would not last like this. This was too much. Too much sensation and teasing and he hadn’t even touched your wet pussy yet. You felt the arousal slowly leaking from you. You needed to feel him inside of you, filling you up.

“Wife,” he mocked by mimicking your moan. He kissed his way down to your stomach. His hands left your breasts, moving further south to tease at your entrance. His hand played with your damp curls and you hissed, loving and hating that he was finally touching where you wanted him to.

He nibbled on your lower stomach and you moaned, your hands digging into his curls. He lifted his head and looked at you as his fingers moved between your folds and found your clit. Your mouth dropped open as he played with it, swirling your arousal all around sloppily.

“Love that face you make, wife,” he said.

You fought to look him in the eyes and let him see you. See how he was making you feel. You didn’t know what to do or how to make him feel just as good. But that would come in time. You had many years with him. Many years to learn each other’s bodies.

You bit your lip and moaned as he rubbed his thumb around your clit. It was slow and lazy as if he had all night to bring you pleasure. The stirrings of your climax tighten your belly and you flopped onto the bed, unable to keep eye contact. You let yourself feel his hands on you. His lips returned to your belly as you tensed up and let go.

You let go of all that tension and anxiety you had been carrying the past week. The sadness and loneliness that hung around you like a demon. You shed the anger and shame as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back bowed from the bed.

Your breaths shuddered as you calmed down. The King kissed his way down your body and spread your legs open. You didn’t know what he could see, but you did see him smile. The hand he used to finger you, he placed it on your titty and began to massage your nipple with your juices.

“Ouue,” you moaned. Crisp, lightly salted air blew into the room over your wet nipple and your thighs tingled.

“Louder, my Queen,” he said.

His lips descended on your pussy like a cat lapping up milk. His tongue swiped against you slowly, taking long swipes from your entrance to your clit. You moaned and yelled to the ceiling. Your fingers dug into his curls, pushing his face in. You hoped you weren’t hurting him, but you didn’t know how you could stop.

You cried out when he suckled your clit. You felt like you were dying and being rebuilt brick by brick. Every pass of his skilled tongue notched your climax higher and higher, reaching the peak of the tallest mountain.

You pulled on his hair as you came once more, gushing all over his mouth and the sheets. You whined as your legs shook, body moving uncontrollably. The King chuckled as he kissed your thighs, your belly, in between your breasts, and up your neck.

“Are you alright, my Queen?” He asked.

It took you a few deep breaths before you trusted your voice not to break. “That would’ve been our wedding night?” You asked.

He grinned and kissed your cheek. “Every night since then if you’d have let me,” he said.

You melted into the bed. You shook your head. “Liar,” you said. But there was no heat behind it.

“I wish to feel you, husband. All of you,” you said.

“Are you not tired?” He asked. But he was already moving his trousers down, off of his hips. The fabric hit the floor and he was pushing himself up off of you.

“Not of this. Not of you,” you said. You pulled him into a kiss, tasting and smelling yourself on his tongue. It only made you want him more. You liked claiming him in such a small way, only between these kisses.

“I love you, wife,” he said.

“I love you, husband,” you said.

He moved in between your legs, sliding his knees high under your thighs. He pushed you wider than you expected, guiding the head of his dick to your slick folds. He got the tip of himself wet and then slowly pushed into you.

Your hand flew to his chest. “Slow, slow, slow,” you moaned.

He slowed down, slowly pushing his way inside of you. Your body relaxed, letting him slip inside with ease. “You’re so beautiful, wife. Filled up with me,” he said.

“Shit,” you moaned. Your legs shook on him as he began to slowly fuck into you. You were outside of time as he moved inside of you. You stared into each other’s eyes. You were pure feeling.

He kissed you in between strokes. You couldn’t keep your lips off of each other. Whispering in between kisses. How you missed each other. How you loved each other. How you wanted this to work in between you. How he wanted to plant babies inside of you and watch your belly grow with his children.

“I want to keep you, wife,” he whispered against your lips.

The glide of his dick moved easily inside of you. Like he fit there. Like you were made for each other. And for this moment, you let yourself believe it. You were meant to be here in his arms.

Your mouth dropped open, limbs weak, as a powerful climax ripped through you. You cried out to the sky and heavens. You didn’t care if you woke up the whole palace. You cried until your voice went hoarse. You squeezed around the King’s dick.

“I’m yours, my husband,” you said.

He looked into your eyes while he moaned and finally climaxed himself. His dick pulsed inside of you and you savored the closeness of his body. The heat of him. The feeling of him on top of you. He was yours and you were his.

When he was finished spilling inside of you, he dropped to one side panting. He slipped out of you and pulled you toward him. You faced him and he pulled you closer, pulling your leg over his hip. You were completely enveloped into his warmth.

You talked until the morning light. Both unwilling to allow something as small as sleep interrupt this time together. He made you tell him all about the books you read while you were hiding. He tried to make you talk about every thought you had but it was impossible to remember every single one.

You giggled well into the morning, kissing in between, and talking about the things you missed as well. All too soon, it became increasingly obvious that he would have to leave to get ready for his little wedding.

The thought still pierced your heart with an arrow. But you’d try to get over it. You’d try, for your sake and for the sake of the household. Ayi was right. You didn’t want to live in a broken household full of tension and unsaid things. You had enough of that growing up.

“Go, go get ready,” you said.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “No. But you are a king. Who am I to get in the way of that?”

He kissed you, his lips lingering against yours. His thumb caressed your cheek. “My beautiful Queen,” he said. “Will you kill me today?”

“The day is young, husband.”

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

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maidflowery · 3 months ago

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𝗦𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗭𝗘! (𝟭/𝟰) 𝙻𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝

Moze x Reader Limited time event: 5 September - 10 September

Decide his fate by voting in the poll below.

“Urk...!”

Countless thorny vines wrapped all over his body, rendering him immobile. Some around his waist, neck, and chest even began tightening, making him gasp for breath.

“Haa... haa...”

His trusty dagger had long abandoned its master and was nowhere to be found.

What was his prickly assailant trying to do to him? Whatever it was, letting him go definitely wasn’t one of it. It probably wasn’t anything good either.

Moze could already picture a certain pink-haired Foxian laughing at him, saying, ‘Shouldn’t have slept on the job.’

Was this to be his fate? A Shadow Guard of the Yaoqing? To a mere plant monster?

Just how did this happen...?

Moze’s most recent mission took him to a remote village. The swirling breeze was gentle and refreshing, most likely due to the lush forest around this part. He could already see himself napping under the shade of one of the vibrant trees.

In fact, that was exactly what he did as soon as he was somewhat done with his job.

As expected, sitting under the shadow of the tall tree felt great. He closed his eyes, basking in the nature. He could hear chirpings of birds and smell the fragrance of flowers. Soon, he began dozing off.

However, the peaceful nap didn’t last long.

Sss—... Sss—...

Something was coming—no, slithering toward him. Snake, probably.

Moze pretended to be asleep, waiting until it was close enough.

Then, when it finally entered his range, Moze’s eyes darted open. He swung his dagger with such speed that it was invisible to the naked eye!

Thud!

His blade severed something long and moderately thick. But before he could make sure what it was...

Dangerous!

Moze reflexively leaped to the side. His sharp instincts told him that the danger wasn’t over.

Sss—... Sss—... Sss—... Sss—... Sss—... Sss—...

No, far from over.

With an ominous feeling, Moze turned around.

“What is...”

From the safe, harmless-looking tree he had napped under, dangled many, many thick, thorny vines. They flailed around like snakes, with only one target in mind.

Him.

All at once, the vines curved back like a drawn bowstring, before lunging at him!

Moze jumped backward, and a few vines landed on his previous spot, whipping dust and sand into the air. He lightly swung his dagger, slashing off the few others in one fell swoop.

Despite slightly disoriented from the sleep, Moze could still hold his ground against the ambush.

...At least, in the beginning.

Soon, the vines changed their attack patterns, randomizing them. Some charged directly at him, while others targeted his blind spots.

As Moze was busy parrying the vines, he suddenly stumbled forward.

“Ugh!”

As a veteran assassin, he wouldn’t make the mistake of tripping over the ground. When he lowered his gaze, he found a thin, sleek vine coiling around his ankle. It must’ve crept silently while he was preoccupied.

Clank!

“Ah! Dammit!”

That half a second mistake cost him everything. While he steadied himself, the thicker vines smacked his dagger off his hand, flinging it somewhere. Before he could reach for his small dagger, strapped to his waist, another vine latched onto his wrist. Followed by another, and some more.

The plant monster seemed to have some awareness of its opponent’s agility. So, they clung to all his four limbs, stripping him of his freedom. Despite that, Moze didn’t give up. He bit at the dense vines, ripping them with his teeth. The surface felt solid, though it yielded slightly under pressure.

“Argh—!”

Another vine wrapped around his neck, shoving him back with a much greater force. The back of his head collided against the tree. Did he anger that monster?

Perhaps to make sure that its prey wouldn’t pull off another trick, more vines coiled around his upper body and his waist. He was held in place, like an insect caught in a spider's web, and the rest was history.

You were on a field trip with your college department to a certain rural village.

However, while you were busy taking photos and enjoying the scenery, you get separated with your class.

That was when you met him.

A tall, muscular man was bound to a tree by countless vines.

What the heck?

What were you looking at right now? To make sure, you approached that tree.

The hooded, ashen-haired man took a pained breath, his gaze unfocused. On a closer look, you realized that his neck was also tightly wound with the same vine.

Oh no, that looks terrible...!

Out of concern, you stepped toward the man. That was when his gaze sharpened with clarity, just before the man yelled.

“Stay away!”

At the same time, something green swept in front of you, grazing the ground a few inches away from you. It was the vine. It tried to reach you but failed due to its limited range. Did it grow from that tree?

Had it not been for the man’s warning, you’d have been a dead meat.

The same man was visibly coughing and gasping for breath. Even though he had difficulty breathing, he still screamed at the top of his lungs to warn you.

“I’m going to help you!”

“No! Cough... I, don’t need your help.”

“What are you talking about?! You’re in so much pain!”

Your mind was made up. You weren’t going to leave him like this! You were going to save him no matter what!

Thankfully, you were here to study about agriculture, so you had a few items that might help! Or... you could simply brute force it.

The next part will be posted tomorrow according to the poll.

Buy me coffee ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽

#moze x reader #moze x you #hsr x you #moze #hsr moze #hsr x reader #hsr fanart #hsr fanfic #artists on tumblr #fanart #honkai star rail fanart #honkai star rail #moze honkai star rail #moze hsr

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beewithknee · 1 year ago

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of death and pain

redactober day 10 !

asher/babe angst

“SAM FUCKING DO SOMETHING!” The Beta screamed, tears streaking down his face.

Sam sighed a truly awful sound, “I’m sorry Asher. There’s nothing I can do. It’s too late.” He sounded dead, eyes wide and unseeing as he surveyed the surroundings.

“No, please. I just need- I need one more minute. Please.” Asher begged, crumpling to the ground. Hysterical sobs were ripped from his chest as he took in the sight of his lover.

White sleeves stained red as he reached forward to pull their body to his.

They were so limp, so cold, so lifeless.

Tears filled Sam’s eyes as he watched the heartbreaking display. Love was something that transcended time and space. It was infinite. It was precious. It was forever.

Some things just weren’t meant for eternity, he supposed.

“Sam…” It was a plea. It fell from his lips without second thought. Asher needed them back. He was fully aware that he wouldn’t cope with this loss; it would be the death of him.

“I’m so sorry.” Sam was restrained, though his voice still cracked. He was the pillar of strength. He never cracked. But there, where he’d so blatantly failed, Sam shattered in every way a person like him was capable.

The thick coppery scent had the vampire almost scrambling to cover his nose. It had leeched into the ground, marking the earth with the evidence of what had transpired.

“Baby please. Don’t do this.” Asher whispered, pressing his forehead to theirs. They were so cold. He shivered, body unable to process what it was seeing. “We’ve gotta go get married, c’mon.”

The gaping wounds in their neck and chest had mutilated their perfect body. His loathed that the last memory he’d ever have of his mate would be their mangled body.

They were so beautiful.

The ring on their left hand was blood-stained. It sent a harsher sob through his body.

“Babe…” He croaked, voice wrecked from a bleeding throat.

Sam stood and moved away. He needed to give the grieving lover some room. He needed to call David. He needed to call Darlin’.

Asher didn’t process anything, not even when Sam’s gravelly voice registered in his ears did he lift his eyes from his mate. His forever. They were gone. He felt untethered from reality; unable to ground himself, unable to look away from the sight he knew would haunt his dreams, unable to wake up from his nightmarish reality.

“Come back.” It was angry. A growl seeping out from between clenched teeth. Asher vaguely recognised that his mouth was salty, whether it was tears or blood though he was unsure. He shook the soft shoulders under his grip, “Babe. Wake up now. This isn’t funny. I’m-“ He cut off, anger sweeping out of his body in foul swoop.

His shoulders shook and chest heaved as he spluttered. Rough palms dug into his eyes, physically trying to carve the horrific view out from behind them.

No words left his lips, too caught between despair and panic to formulate. Asher was drowning and he didn’t know how to save himself.

Warm hands pulled at his wrists. A sturdy chest slid along his back, thighs bracketing either side of him. Asher fell back into the embrace, unable to remain kneeling as he was.

Everything flooded out of him.

The wolf hadn’t registered that it was Sam holding him. Hadn’t connected those dots. It didn’t really matter, Sam supposed. Asher was a tactile creature and any contact would likely aid him at least a small amount.

“Breathe, Asher. David’s on his way. I’ve got you.” Sam soothed, wrapping his arms tightly around his weeping friend. He longed to take the pain away. Longed to draw it out like he did his Darlin’ wounds. Fix the internal injuries.

He couldn’t though. This would likely never heal, not fully.

Months later, Asher would recognise that he was grateful to have had Sam that day. He’d be thankful the vampire hadn’t offered any fake platitudes about everything being okay or how he’d learn to live.

Because in that field, with the smell of his Mate’s blood ingrained in his nose, Asher felt like he was dying all over again

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #im sorry #kinda #not rlly #i like hurting y'all #but fuck i need to give ash a break goddamn #angst #redacted asher #redactober tober 2023 #whumptober 2023

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ask-icancraft-it · 1 year ago

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"I Love You"

(( Kicking back into writing with another Little Moment, which can be viewed as a precursor to another fic I wrote called 'Impromptu'! This one's the hurt, with the comfort coming (hopefully) soon.)) ----

Those three words made Tamora’s blood run cold. Her heartbeat elevating, she ripped her hand away from Felix’s, watching his cheerful smile fade away when he realized what he’d just said.

“Don’t—” the sergeant shook her head slowly, distancing herself from the handyman. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“But, Tammy, I do mean it,” Felix reached forward, looking hurt. “I love—”

“No!” she cut him short. “If you knew me…If you really knew me, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

Tamora’s legs buckled underneath her as terrible memories came flooding back, haunting her; telling her she shouldn’t go down this road twice.

“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” she sobbed. “You don’t know the things I’ve done.”

Felix’s gentle hand cupped her cheek, wiping the stream of tears away.

“Tammy, I already know about Brad... I’m so sorry.”

She looked up at his mournful face with shock.

“W-who? Who told you?”

“Kohut, on day one,” the handyman flashed a guilty smile. “It was your story to tell, so I was waiting for you to open up to me. I realize that may have been a mistake…Maybe it would have been better if you knew that I knew.”

His lady had gone silent, making him anxious.

“B-but I knew this whole time,” he continued. “And I stayed…What happened to Brad doesn’t define you, Tammy. That’s not the end of your story. I’m right here…and I care about you; I want you to be happy. I want to help—”

“Stop,” Calhoun bristled with anger, standing up. “Just stop. You talk a big game, Fix-It, but you can’t fix people!” “Tamora,” Felix looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “T-that’s not what I—I never said—”

“You knowing changes nothing… It just shows me I was someone you pitied. Poor, tragic, broken Tamora. Time to swoop in with my magic hammer and fix her right up. She’ll forget all about Brand and everything will be hunky-dory.”

As she ranted, she slowly backed the handyman towards the door out of her barracks. By the end, his eyes were wide, with his back flush with its metal surface.

“You know that’s not true,” Felix’s hurt expression took an angry turn. She figured that if he truly had loved her before, he certainly didn’t now.

“Get out,” she growled, and the handyman obliged, his face twisting with every negative emotion as he left.

And with his absence, immediate regret fell onto Calhoun’s shoulders. But it was too late. She had said all those awful things; and for what reason? Because she was scared? Because he withheld information? Because she knew deep down…she loved him too.

Nothing was more terrifying to Tamora than the thought of losing another person she loved. Felix may be out of her life, but at least he was alive. It was better this way.

Wasn’t it?

#wreck it ralph #fix it felix #sergeant calhoun #little moments #crafty writes #hero's cuties

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cosmicballads · 7 months ago

Note

fisselig

Send a Ship + a Non-Translatable Word

—

Fisselig: Being flustered to the point of incompetence

—

Everything was going smoothly. Smoother than Remy had initially anticipated. He knew that while people believed he was incredibly approachable, Remy was barely capable of conversing with the people he worked with regularly, let alone a stranger. He had his people, the (very) few who could comfortably push Remy out of his comfort zone and he was grateful for them. Those same people were also the ones who pushed Remy into going out and attempting to date.

‘You can’t live in your cabin alone forever.’ They had a point, and despite his protest that he wasn’t alone (he did have his hound after all), there were other facets of human interaction that he did need, which couldn’t be satiated by some seedy website or overpriced movie. Besides, he could only rely on his imagination for so long. Online dating worked to help build up his confidence. Mainly because he could sound effortless, charming, and dare he say cool through the messaging systems which was a huge difference compared to his stammering nervous wreck when he had to speak to a person face to face. His friends also set him up on blind dates, many of which went about as well as he could expect, despite the nerves that seemed to wrack him but nothing ever escalated to the point where the invite back to his place or theirs; Remy learned quickly that he had to disclose he lived in the woods and was, not a serial killer, which somehow killed the buzz more than anybody would have anticipated.

This date, on the other hand, was going swimmingly. Tabitha didn’t care that he lived in the woods. Quite frankly, she was Intimidating enough that he would be the one who was lured into the woods never to come out again. Remy felt that Tabitha complimented him almost perfectly. Something about the woman eased his anxieties and allowed him to relax enough so that when the two determined that the remainder of the evening would best be finished off somewhere more private, he didn’t hesitate to suggest his place.

The tension in the air only seemed to thicken by the time the Uber driver had dropped them off in front of his door, there was very little time between them getting out of the car and inside the door before the momentum heated up. It was in one fell swoop that Tabitha found herself on top of the wooden dining table, half-dressed with Remy’s callused hands moving towards removing her jeans. She stopped him, not seeing the brief flash of panic that crossed his face, the fear that he had somehow fucked up and killed the mood. His button-down came off, her hands tangled into his hair, and their lips met hungrily. There was a sense of relief that relaxed Remy’s tensed shoulders at Tabitha taking charge, he was far enough out of practice that he certainly didn’t want to tell this woman who had very much taken charge what to do. He would let her lead and make sure if anything, she left more satisfied than she anticipated. Of course, this meant that he had to get over the fact that he was equally as clothed as the woman in front of him and that they wouldn’t be for much longer. Or the fact that if everything went horribly, he would never live it down and replay every moment that went wrong in his mind (and not in a good way) every time he would hopefully get as far if not further with another woman.

Tabitha pulled away quickly as if something had shocked her, and her face twisted from what he could only assume was lust to a brief look of embarrassment before the anger took over. A glance down and the now gaping space between them told Remy everything. Before he could stammer out an apology or an excuse or anything to potentially save the situation, Tabitha had dressed and was in the process of ordering a rideshare back into town. Back home and far away from the disaster that was Remy.

“I-I d-do-don’t- it-it wasn’t you.” He managed to get out, fearing the ire that would come from the woman tapping her foot impatiently, not bothering to glance at Remy back, let alone the time of day. He watched her tense up, a slow turn to face him again and Remy could feel the anger rolling off her in waves.

Instead, Tabitha said nothing. The ping from her phone let her know that her driver was five minutes away and to be ready to go outside and get out of this disaster area. Without another word, the front door opened, the chill of the night air cooled Remy’s hot face, and then closed once more, taking what up until a few moments ago, his date with it.

#meme ( answered )#leiaskywclker #10000 years later #Remy;Tabitha #bye everyone see you in a year when i write my next thing

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joy-of-life88 · 1 year ago

Text

Inked Temptation [a Damian Priest story] 6 A chance to explain

Damian POV

I could not believe my ears. Her fiancé? Therefore, she had fooled me all this time. So much for not having a boyfriend in ages! I felt so stupid. I stared at Ellie for a second. Her face clearly showed how shocked she was.

"I need to get out of here." I muttered, basically running for the door.

"Damian wait! It's not what it looks like. I swear he's not-" Ellie began as she followed me and grabbed my hand.

I tore myself away and gave her a nasty glare. I didn't feel like listening to her excuses. She had obviously lied to me more than once. Why would I want to hear more of it?

"Leave me alone, Ellie! I don't want to hear it. I'm not going to help you cheat." I said as I got in the car and drove away without looking back.

I was so pissed. And I was confused. And I felt taken advantage of and I felt betrayed. So many feelings all at once. My head was spinning. Part of me couldn't believe I had fallen for this. Another part missed Ellie already. Jeez, I was a mess. Right now I was glad I didn't have to see her again until the weekend. Maybe I'd be lucky and my inner chaos would have subsided by then. But somehow I highly doubted that.

-----------------

Meanwhile it was Saturday, but my thoughts still revolved around Ellie. This was mainly due to the fact that until yesterday she had tried to call me all the time and had also sent me countless messages, but I had neither answered the calls nor read the messages.

I mean, the whole thing was really clear. She wanted a thing on the side and had obviously not expected that her.... fiancé would come home so early.

With a deep sigh, I entered the arena. I hoped that I could avoid her as long as possible. But of course I had no luck. I had just managed to get my bag into the locker room. When I came out again, I was already expected.

Ellie stood leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her chest. Obviously she was very determined to tell me her story. However, I still did not have the slightest interest in it. The only thing that was weird to me was the fact that she was wearing sunglasses.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"No." I grumbled and walked away.

"I deserve the chance to explain it to you Damian." she replied as she followed me down the hall.

"Go tell your fiancé," I said.

"He's not my fiancé, Damian!" she yelled at me as she grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop.

"What?" I asked as I looked at her after all.

"It's true, we were engaged. But that ended over two years ago! I broke up with him when I found out he was cheating on me basically from day one!" she explained to me.

"Then why would he suddenly show up at your apartment?" I wanted to know.

"Because he still imagines he can get me back and my fucking sister is a bitch," Ellie replied.

"What? What does this have to do with your sister?" I wanted to know.

"Because she's a friend of Scott's and apparently has been keeping him up to date about my life all along. She knew from the beginning that he was cheating on me. She didn't think it was necessary to tell me though. Yvonne hates me and would have loved to see me marry the bastard," Ellie said and then took off her sunglasses.

But when I saw her face, my anger and confusion vanished in one fell swoop. Not just because I had missed it so much, but because she had a swollen, black eye.

"Oh my God, Ellie! Please tell me that not happened what I think..." I said in shock as I put my hand to her cheek.

"No... Don't worry, it wasn't Scott. He wouldn't dare... He's a pig, but he's a cop and he can't afford to hit women. After I made him tell me everything, he confessed that Yvonne told him I had a new boyfriend. And she encouraged him to mess it up for me.

I then drove the 100 miles to her house to confront her. And let me put it this way.... You once told me I should have slapped her... This time I did more... Trust me when I tell you she looks a lot worse.

I just wanted you to know everything. I didn't lie to you. We didn't know where we stood yet. Besides, we haven't talked about our past. Still, I can understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me anymore," Ellie explained while looking me firmly in the eyes.

A sad smile appeared on her lips and tears sparkled in her eyes before she turned away from me. But she couldn't even take a step when I grabbed her hand this time and didn't let her go.

Instead, I pulled her closer to me, carefully took her face in my hands and gave her a long kiss.

#damian priest #WWE #Wattpad #My writing #inked temptation

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gumnut-logic · 2 years ago

Photo

Warnings: Alludes to animal cruelty, Virgil whump, defensive kick-ass Thunderbird One.

-o-o-o-

He could not believe this was still possible.

How was this possible?

He had thought they as a race, as a species of the planet Earth, were beyond this.

His feet crunched in the snow, cold ice fighting with specialised rubber. The only sound on the icy frozen beach was the wind...

...and the calls of seals.

They were fleeing from him in fear. It was justified fear, considering the blood staining the white snow.

A wave shushed against the ice in the distance.

A callout.

A man, fallen through the ice. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he and Gordon had been minutes away, swooping in and deploying Four, scooping the victim out from underneath the ice shelf.

Only to realise exactly what the man was.

A hunter.

The bile in Virgil’s throat had risen to the point that he felt the urge to spit on him.

There was no need to kill animals for anything other than food in the 2060’s. The unwarranted slaughter for fashion sense, set his blood boiling.

Gordon’s reaction had been far more violent.

“Gordon!”

“Virgil, do you realise what this bastard does for a living?!” Gordon’s face was red with fury.

“I do.”

Gordon was speechless for a whole two seconds. “Then what are we going to do about it?”

“Deliver him to a hospital and notify the authorities.”

Gordon looked ready to explode.

Virgil swallowed his bile and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“What about the others?”

He caught his brother’s eyes with his own. “They will get what is coming to them.” He thinned his lips.

Perhaps their anger blinded them. Perhaps it had been planned. Virgil didn’t know, but the next thing he did know was cold, so much cold. He swore his face was half frozen. There was blood on the snow.

His blood.

His head hurt so bad.

In his uniform. No helmet. Alone. Snow. Ice. So much ice.

A slow blink.

Get up.

Get up or your face will freeze and you will die.

The wind bit into him as his vision doubled.

He was on a beach. An icy beach. He wavered a moment, before putting one foot in front of the other.

Where was his ‘bird?

The horizon was either white or water. Gordon?

He hit his comms. “Th-thunderbird Five.” Ugh, his voice hurt.

Everything hurt.

“Virgil!”

“What happened?” His eyes closed a moment and he stumbled.

“Virgil!” Huh? “Scott’s on his way. Along with Kayo and the GDF.”

“Scott...” Pull it together. “Gordon?”

“Aboard Two...three kilometres east of you.”

“What?”

“Attempted hijacking. Gordon says they attacked you first and decided to remove you from the equation by throwing you off the ship. Took Gordon a few moments of flight to deploy the gas canisters.” A pause. “Hang tight. Scott will be there soon.”

Soon.

The world doubled again and he fought the urge to fall on his butt.

He didn’t need a frozen butt.

No frozen butt.

Voices travelled on the wind.

His head shot up and spun in response. Shit.

Damn.

A handful of men were trekking over the ice. In the distance, he could just make out a sleek white transport. How had he not heard that land?

His eyes fell on the seals, still attempting to scamper away from him.

The blood on the ice made it very clear that this was not the men’s first visit of the day.

God, no.

Seal whimpers.

There were too many men.

His head hurt.

They were going to murder...

He couldn’t allow that.

Just couldn’t.

Scott please hurry.

God, his head hurt.

The men approached quietly, but the moment he was seen, that quiet was broken. A voice challenged him.

A gun was raised.

Virgil stood between them and the seals.

He held up a hand as if he could stop them simply by holding them back.

He wished the world would stop fading in and out.

“Virgil! What are you doing?” John.

“Stop the slaughter.”

“Those men are armed!”

“I know.”

“Virgil!”

“Can’t let them...”

A rush of wind, a screaming roar...a familiar screaming roar.

Thank god.

Thunderbird One tore into the scenery, his brother’s ‘bird coming to a swooping halt above and behind him, her VTOL vibrating the air around him.

“This is International Rescue. Please stand back for your safety.”

Well, that was a threat without a threat.

It was so good to hear his brother’s voice.

The men backed off, alarmed. The seals, equally alarmed, screamed in fear. Shit.

“Virgil?” His eldest brother’s voice was worried, yet gentle.

“Don’t feel so good.” His hand went to his head as the world wobbled yet again. Thunderbird engines weren’t great for headaches, but right at this moment there was no other sound he could possibly love more.

He didn’t feel the ice on his face as he fell.

-o-o-o-

“Goddamnit, Scott, we have the money, we’ve got to do something about it!”

“Kayo is working with the GDF as we speak.”

“But will it be enough? They kill thousands of seals. And look at what that bastard did to Virgil.”

“I know exactly what they did, Gordon. I was the one who had to pick him off the ice.”

Ice. God, he hated ice. The voices were sharp knives stabbing at the inside of his skull. He groaned.

“Virgil?” Scott’s voice was suddenly softer. Someone touched him.

“Ergh.” Such an intelligent response.

“Hey, bro. Open those eyes. I need to see some brown. The blue is getting monotonous.”

“Gor-don...”

“Ooh, he speaks.”

“C’mon, Virgil, open your eyes so he’ll shut up.”

Well, that was motivation. His eyelids were heavy, but he was strong. Blurry brothers slowly blinked into focus.

“Hey, Virg.” Gordon smiled at him from behind Scott. The annoyingly familiar ceiling of the infirmary above them.

“W-What happened?”

The smile disappeared and was replaced by anger. “Apparently saving a man’s life motivates him to attack his rescuers. The bastard must have heard us talking. Came up behind you and whacked you with one of your own tools. Threatened me by threatening you. Then threw you out the hatch in the module before I could deploy the tranq canisters. You fell quite a distance. If I ever get my hands on that bastard again...”

“You gave him enough bruises, Gordon. Aunt Val is going to have to obfuscate enough already.”

“He deserved it. He could have killed Virgil.” A hand gripped his leg and tightened.

“I’m here, Gordon.” Something flashed in his brother’s eyes, something cold and violent, and Virgil was suddenly reminded of the WASP professional under that goofy facade. “I’m okay.”

“You have a skull fracture, Virgil. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything else.” A swallow. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“But I am alive.”

“Still want to roast him with Two’s thrusters.”

Virgil wanted to reach out to him, but his body was a leaden mess. Scott beat him to it, a hand landing on Gordon’s arm “He will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Attempted murder is on that list.” A grim smile. “You know the world’s reaction when we are threatened.”

Virgil blinked slowly. It was a little heartening that the world stood up in their defence if anyone raised a hand against them. The inevitable then came to mind. There would be court, and the press...he groaned.

“Virgil?” Scott was frowning in worry.

“Press and court. Sucks.”

“Yeah, well, at least this time it will do some extra good. Put an end to the seal hunting, if we play it right.”

Another slow blink. Seals. “Did we protect the seals?”

Blue eyes smiled at him, a hand landing on his shoulder. “Yes, Virgil, you protected the seals. The GDF arrived shortly after you collapsed.”

“I collapsed?” His memory hurt with the rest of his head.”

“You did. You need rest.”

“You wanted me to wake up.”

Another smile. “Well, now we know you are all there, you can go back to sleep.”

Sleep. Sounded wonderful.

Fingers touched his forehead, combing through his hair just gently.

He let out a sigh.

Sleep.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #and no I didn't write a thing all weekend #brain still fried #guess where I get to go tomorrow #to work #but!#two weeks to holidays

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neoncrowpen · 3 years ago

Note

Could you do an imagine where Geralt comforts the reader after her family openly says they don’t like her haircut that she was excited about? Just had that happen to me and… ouch 😞🖤

(Author's Note to Anon requester: UhHHHhhm, how rude?! I'm so so so so sorry this happened to you, Nonny. Whatever hurt you are feeling please pass it along to me. You are beautiful. You are beautiful. You are beautiful. I really hope you enjoy this request.)

You went about your day in your family’s tavern, cleaning another glass with the same ragged cloth. Channeling your anger into the same, repeated task helped. Earlier, you debuted your new look to the family. Their faces said everything. Their words were even worse. They cut you open and devoured your happiness like hungry pigs. What confidence you felt was now diminished into shattered pieces you didn’t bother picking up.

Your mind battled you. It was more reasonable to give yourself assurance. After all, you put a lot of thought and time into yourself. Still, power was taken from you like it always seemed to be. It was easier to keep cursing their names under your breath.

“Aye!” The shouting shook you from your thoughts. “Can’t you hear me? Are you deaf? Or are you just stupid?” Saliva shot through the air towards you. Face to face with a nasty regular customer, you flinched. Before he could say anything else, a hand grabbed the scruff of his neck. It pulled him back. His face jerked to his new enemy.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” The customer’s face fell immediately. “Shit.”

“I suggest you apologize,” Geralt warned him. The amber darkened in his eyes. The customer cleared his throat, mumbled a quick ‘sorry’, sliding out from his chair and then out the door. Geralt took his spot, keeping his eye on his back as he left.

“Thank you,” you told him. “I hate it when he does that.” You slid over a glass full of ale. “This one’s on me.” Geralt took a few gulps of the ale, tipping his head slightly back. His eyes narrowed on your head as you continued tasks. The glass hit the bar with a satisfying thud, half of the ale gone.

“You look different,” Geralt said.

“Oh, right,” you nodded. “I know how it looks.”

“I like it,” Geralt offered you a smile. Instead of small butterflies, you felt one big butterfly wing cut through your core with one swoop.

“You do?”

“I really do,” he said. “It suits you. An improvement, actually.”

“Thank you,” you nodded. Your eyes averted to the side and then back to him. “I wish everyone thought that way.” Geralt followed your eyes, seeing your family talk amongst themselves and glancing at the both of you.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Your family’s been running this tavern for what? Three generations?” You nodded in agreement. Geralt chuckled. “They’ve run and kept this place the same for decades. I wouldn’t consider any of them actual experts on change.” His fingers reached out. They brushed the ends of your hair. The newly intimate act startled you, but you did not flinch away from him. You stepped closer. His hand ran down your cheek and you enjoyed every bit of his warmth.

“This is a good change. Believe me,” Geralt finished the ale. Both of you heard a sudden cry of anger from outside. Geralt rolled his eyes again. “I have to go deal with that. Will you be around later?” You hummed, nodding your head quickly. As much as you tried, you could not pull your eyes away from him as he left the tavern.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t do it either. Something more settled in the air between both of you.

#geralt of rivia #geralt #the witcher #geralt of rivia imagine #imagine geralt of rivia #imagine geralt #geralt/reader #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt/you #geralt x you

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sucrosia · 3 years ago

Text

— tainted glass of delight

he knows she’s gone and can’t bring her back but yet, he still can’t help himself to a few more glasses.

kaeya, fem!reader

warnings: massive alcohol income, major character death, descriptions of grief, themes self deprication, self blame

“DON’T you think that is enough wine for tonight?” Diluc asks the weary man with messy yet somewhat neat beautiful blue hair. He was sat at the bar where Diluc attends to.

The man looked up, and chuckled. “Nothing is ever enough, Diluc.”

“Same as ever, Kaeya.” Diluc replies, usual grumpy, almost monotone, voice. There was an awkward, tense, silence as they were staring each other down. Diluc had seen many drunkies before, but it was painful to see his own brother become one of them. He let out a heavy sigh before turning away from Kaeya. “I hope you realize that Y/N would’ve never allowed you to drink away your sorrows, even if she is the cause of it.”

Kaeya scowled, gripping the glass in his hand tightly. “Take her name out your mouth!” He shouted, anger covering the pain in his voice. However, Diluc seemed unphased and watched as tears dripped down his brother’s face pitifully. Kaeya took a swig at the glass, gulping it down. It burned in his throat, just like the tears that had burned his skin.

“You’re not the only one who misses her, Kaeya.” Diluc responds back in what seems like a strained voice. You and Diluc were not only friends, but best friends. How do you think you met Kaeya, the love of your life? Were it not for Diluc, you would’ve never been in one of the most loving relationships you’ve had. But, if it weren’t for Diluc, you wouldn’t be dead either.

Kaeya stared at the near empty glass, some droplets of the heavy drink he had gulped down early falling down the edges of the cup and pooling at the bottom. Diluc was right, even if Kaeya wanted to deny it. You had many, many friends. All of which missed you dearly, including Diluc. He sighed, and looked up from the cup.

“Can I get another drink, please?” He asked, his voice quiet and wobbly. Was it from the tears that had fallen, or the drinks upon drinks he had taken? Kaeya didn’t know either. All he knew was the little pain that slowly infected his heart. Grief and sadness; aren’t they an amazing thing?

“This would be your last one. You’ve had a plentiful of drinks, along with the bar closing soon.” Diluc informs him, turning around to grab the wine Kaeya was chugging down earlier. He popped off the cap and poured the wine into the same glass in Kaeya’s hands.

Kaeya let out another frustrated, glum sigh. He thought about the events prior to your untimely demise. If he had just sensed that something was wrong, could he have saved you? Either way, it was his fault you died. Everything always goes wrong when it comes down to him. It’s always him, every single time. His failure to protect those close to him is his fault.

Though Diluc stood idly by, waiting for Kaeya to finish his drink, you can see the pity in his eyes. Yeah, they hate each other. So what? Kaeya is his brother. He always will be, forever. Maybe remorse is what he’s feeling. Perhaps he can touch, graze or feather on what he’s feeling. The feeling of losing a loved one, the feeling of regret and blame, and grief. Stress, an overwhelming, powerful emotion.

Shakily, Kaeya brings the drink to his mouth once again. Instead of gulping it down in one fell swoop, he took his time. One little sip at a time, almost as if he were savoring the flavor. Or maybe, savoring the way the liquid burned in the back of his throat. Slowly sipping at the wine, he thinks about you.

You were the umbrella on his rainy day, you were the rainbow after that raing day. Were. If you were here, watching him drink away his melancholy as a response to your death, how would you feel? Would you feel angry? Angry that he was throwing his life away, returning to his old habits? Or would you feel shameful that he was drinking because of you?

On a day where the clouds block the sun, or the sky outshines the moon, where will you be to bring light back into his life?

after notes.. i know i died for like, 2 months or so, but im back! and im writing angst, not my best work and it’s not proofread buy yayyy! expect a theme change soon, wink wink

taglist.. @darlingxannie , @cxlrose

#sucrosia's rhapsody #sucrosia.writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin scenarios #genshin x you #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya x you #kaeya angst

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typewriting101 · 4 years ago

Text

you’re safe here.

pairing: tony stark x reader

warning: anxiety, abuse, fluff <3

word count: 2.5k

genre: fanfic romance

⟶ summary: your past is filled with dark hidden trauma, and Tony is right there when it get to be too much

a/n: i just watched the first avengers and i swear something about tony in that– so i came up with this :) I’ve had some personal things going on, and related to this in some ways so i hope if you’re reading it helps you too. xx

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The soft, nighttime, breeze fell through the open doors leading to your little balcony. It moved your white curtains elegantly around your bedroom, as you tossed and turned in your silk covers. Any other night this would’ve been perfect.

Any other night.

Tonight your head was filled with thoughts, too many at that. You haven’t left your room all day, The Avengers had a mission. You were only Tony Stark’s assistant, so you never went on those. You helped him with Stark Industries, so much he had asked you to stay at the Tower with him and his team. You accepted and the others love you. You sort of were a family, you always wanted a happy family.

A happy family. Your heart started beating fast, and you tried to blink away the thought in your mind.

Your real family.

You sat up, sweating. The Avengers didn’t know about your past, and to be fair, you didn’t want to tell them. Everyone considered their family the one right here.

The Tower family.

The Avengers Family.

But what about your real one?

You threw your head back and smoothed away the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You could feel it, the familiar inability to sit still, the circle of thoughts deep in motion, rapid heart rate, sweating, nausea.

Crap.

It was definitely an anxiety attack.

Your eyes began to fill up with tears. Why couldn’t you just control your thoughts like any other decent person? Why did you have to live the rest of your life like this?

The rest of your—?

You got out of bed. “The more I think, the worse I’ll be. Calm down y/n.” You said to yourself. You walked across your room in Thor’s old shirt, which despite being too small for him, fit you like a nightgown.

You opened the door and felt the coolness of the tower hit you. It grew hot in your room right under your nose. You shivered as it hit your bare legs and feet, and you closed the door behind you.

You walked to the kitchen and poured yourself some water, when you heard the echo of a clanking sound, followed by a cuss word.

“Tony.” You thought in your head with a slight smile. You felt the nausea creep up again and you slammed your cup, accidentally. It didn’t break thank god, but you didn’t want to wake anybody up.

“Whatchya doing, Rapunzel?” A voice asked behind you.

You spun around to see Tony, leaning against the wall of the open-spaced kitchen with a smirk.

“Rapunzel?” you questioned, knowing Tony has nicknames for everyone in this tower.

“Sure, you’ve got the most hair out of everyone here. Well, second to me of course.” He added, shoulders shrugging sarcastically.

You looked down and smiled slightly at the ground.

His smirk however, slowly worked his way off his face. “Why are you up? It’s witch hour you know. Better watch out, scary thing.” His voice dripped in a joking sarcasm, making you smile softly to yourself again. He waltzed over to the counter, confused, picking up your glass of water, holding it in his crossed hands over his chest.

“I just came for that.” You sighed, pointing at the cup he held. You felt him looking at you, as he set it down again, but you didn’t look at his eyes. “Why are you up?”

“Blueprints for a new sustainable energy program. Plus, I thought I’d repair some slight damage on my suit.” he said it like it was nothing, snapping his fingers while clasping his palms. He watched you nod, still getting no real personality from you. “Wanna see?” he asked.

You nodded, you’d take anything to get this weight off your chest. Your heart dropped at the thought, and your walk wavered. What was worse is Tony saw you.

“Woah there, you alright?” he asked concerned. You nodded at the ground and you felt his hand on your back, guiding you to the elevator without a word.

You hated when Tony was silent. It meant he was thinking way more than usual, or he was upset. You moved your eyes to him, he was dead staring at the elevator doors as you went down, his hand still on you.

You looked at the floor again and bit your bottom lip, he was definitely thinking, and that makes you nervous.

The doors opened. He led you with his hand over to his papers on his glass tech-table and his suit on display to the side. He stared at you as you looked his research and blueprints over. He watched as your skin got paler, and you tried to hide in your large shirt from the silence.

“It’s nice.” you whispered. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but you were too lost in your thoughts to even know what you were reading.

“Binary.”

“What?”

He sighed, sitting in the chair you were standing next to. “Everything is written in binary code right now, sweetheart. Bare minimum blueprint for the system. You don’t know Binary, it's computer language.” you could feel that gaze again, he was analyzing you.

“Oh.” you said softly, lost in thought. “Sorry.” You looked over your shoulder at the elevator, then turned your body to walk towards it.

You didn’t even take your first step and Tony’s hands were around your waist, slowly spinning you to his direction. “Hey now, don’t leave.” he whispered.

You looked at him for the first time. “Y/n, what’s going on up there in that cute little head of yours.” his one hand on the side of your head, thumb gracing your temple.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, knowing that he is a literal genius and would see through it.

He hummed a disapproving sound. “No, don’t do that. You’re paler than the moon and look more lost than a puppy, sweetheart.” your eyes slowly began to fill with tears, and Tony’s eyes widened.

You felt him tug at your waist and pull you close to him as he swooped you into his lap on his chair. Your legs hung off the side of his left one and your arms wrapped around his neck.

You couldn’t hold it in as you cried harder than you ever have in your entire life, you have never let your guard down. If you couldn’t trust your family, could you trust the world?

To be honest, Tony was terrified. He had never seen you shed a single tear, and he was desperate to know what shook you so badly.

“Honey–” he whispered, one hand on your back. The other went to your head, your soft hair surrounding it.

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed, almost inaudibly. He felt you lift your head out of his neck, and you were zoning out again, looking at god knows what behind him.

He rested his cheek on your damp one, his hand on the other side of your face. He kissed you at the soft skin he saw and could smell your delicate scent when he did. ��Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything.”

You took a breath and slowly lifted your head, embarrassed. He moved your hair behind your ear, “Don’t think you’re going to leave without talking to me.”

He looked at you with such patience, as if he’d wait years to hear what you had to say. You took a deep breath and began slowly.

“I never knew how much I could be loved by people around me… until I met The Avengers.” you began slowly. You felt a tear grace your cheek, but Tony was quick to wipe it away.

“You've asked me about my family before, and I always shut it down, or laughed it off… because-“ you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath. Tony’s hands found your arms, his fingers feathering up and down along your skin.

“Because I’m scared of them.” you whispered.

You were sitting on Tony’s lap, so when you saw Tony tense, you could actually feel it. Every muscle in his body tightened, even his grip on you.

“What do you mean they scare you?” he asked, the octave of his voice lowering, dangerously.

“Tony I don’t think–“

“Tell me.” his grip tightened harder. It wasn’t painful at all, he’d never hurt you. It felt protective, you were feeling safe.

“They- they are-” your heart began to beat fast. Tony knew and grabbed your hand, and set it on his arc reactor so you could feel his heart, his other hand moving up your back to your neck, massaging it.

“It’s okay, I’m right here, y/n.” He whispered. He saw your breathing slow and he watched you talk as if you were the most extraordinary thing in the world.

“They were great growing up. Just, one day– one day a switch flipped. I’ll never forget it. I became their target, Tony.” Your voice cracked at his name, but you pulled yourself together.

Tony’s heart dropped when you said his name like that. It was almost a beg, or a desperate call for help. He was aching in pain and outrage as you spoke, his hands finding your waist and tightening them again.

“They would manipulate me. One minute they loved me, the next I’m the center of their games. They’d tell me how proud they were of me, and as soon as I let the pain go, they would start all over again. It would eat me alive, and the memories still do. They’d always end things with ‘I love you’ but they never did. They... they never will.”

You could feel the anger radiating off of Tony. You looked up and saw his face was even a little flushed and his jaw was tense. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were narrowed at the ground.

You both sat in silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes widened from his voice, it sounded guilty. “I could’ve done something.”

“Tony, you–“

“Y/n, you've only lived at the tower for months, not years. You’ve been dealing with this while you’ve known me?” his eyes staring deeply into yours, hoping to God you said no.

You only nodded.

“Oh my God. Y/n, that’s abuse. I- they’ve hurt you. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I–“ he ran his fingers in his hair, frustrated.

“Tony, I didn’t want anyone to know. I’ve told people in the past, but people don’t understand. Some thought I was dramatic and others told me I was ruining my own happiness and I was lucky to have a family.”

“Families don’t do that.” he snarled, thinking of someone purposely shattering your heart.

“Which is why I told you, after all this time. I could have told you that my anxiety was bad, because it triggers it. But I told you the truth. I trust you, Tony.”

You took a breath as his features softened, making your stomach flutter.

“I just- i just wanna keep you safe, sweetheart. That’s all I want. The thought of someone coming at you–“ his grip tightened again. He leaned his head against your body, his head hitting your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, as he locked his toned arms around you, squeezing you close to him.

You trust him. You could tell him.

“They tried to call me.” you whispered.

He sat up quickly, “What?”

“It’s why I couldn’t sleep. They are trying to get me to leave. They threatened me... with you.” you sighed, still playing with his hair.

“Come again?” he asked in fury, his hands subconsciously running up and down your back.

“They threatened to ruin your company. They’ve been trying to get me to leave. It started off with social media, liking all my things and trying to butter me up. Then messages saying hateful things about me, then they started calling and I never answered, their voicemails have been so brutal.”

You took a deep breath and expressed your fears, “Tony, I never gave them my number. I changed it when I left. I blocked them on social media, I don’t know how they are finding me. What if they end up here? What if they–“

Tony’s fingers traced over your cheekbones. “I’m not letting them anywhere near you. Technology’s my thing, sweetheart. I’ll get rid of them real quick.”

“But what if-”

He shushed you kindly. ”Nobody is going to hurt you ever again. You don’t have to think about it.”

He tugged at your waist again and pulled you into a tight hug. His hands ran through your hair as he felt your shaky breath. You were terrified, you wanted to love them. Every family practically loves each other, but you never got to be one of them. Tony’s stomachs turned, thinking how many nights you fell asleep alone and scared in your own home, how you felt heartbroken not being loved, how you even cried here and who knows how long that went on before he heard that loud bang in the kitchen you caused, and caught you.

He squeezed you tighter. “I promise y/n, you should be loved. You are loved. I’ll protect you from them, from anything. God, I promise you I’ll always be here. Will you let me love you?”

You felt his heart hammering against yours. You looked at him, his cheeks with a slight blush, nervous of your answer. A real but soft smile came across your elegant features, he smiled brightly as you played with his hair, and moved your hand to trace his nose, cheeks, and jawline. You let your hand rest there, and you leaned in to kiss him.

Tony Stark; Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, was practically swept off his feet by the softness of your kiss. It wasn’t steamy, it was overly passionate. It was pure, and just right. The cushioned lips of yours against his. The softness of your hands still tracing his jaw. He wouldn’t trade anything for this moment.

You let go, to his great disliking. But a smile lit up his features when you spoke, “Yes. I’d love that very much, Tony.”

He saw a glimpse of fear as you looked towards the elevator. “Do… you want me to go?” You asked, timidly.

“No.” Tony said, with zero hesitation. He turned the chair with the two of you in it, flipping through his papers so he doesn’t blush again. “I told you I’m protecting you. You’re in no state to go anywhere without me.”

You look at him, eyes full of shock and realization. He looked at you, surprised at your cute expression. “What, you really thought I was going to make you leave?” he sassed. “Not that I’m mad, but why the cute face?”

You opened your mouth, and for a moment nothing came out. He set his hand on your back, “Y/n?” he said in a confused but cautious tone.

“So this is what it feels like to not be afraid anymore.” you said, a quiet tone of amazement and gratefulness lacing in your sentence.

Tony grabbed your head and kissed you quickly, a little harder than last time, and then instantly pulled you into him tightly.

“I’ll never let you forget that feeling. You’re safe here, y/n. I’ll always keep you safe.”

You relaxed into his warm body, your head on his strong shoulder. The glow of the arc reactor in his chest, just visible through the darkness of your now closed eyes. You heard him moving his papers and the sound of his typing on his tech-table, his one hand never leaving you. You opened your eyes and saw a holagram in front of you and recognized the image. He connected to your phone and was reading the messages from your family. You felt him grip you again, and he somehow found a location tied to the phone number that messaged you. You saw him type some strange numbers, and a satellite image of a house appeared. You knew that was your relatives house, and you knew he’d track them all down within seconds. It calmed you, knowing you were safe, so you close your eyes again. You heard the clicking of him gripping a pen in between his teeth, and the soft whirring of his suit beside you, as he scribbled something down. Then, you heard an approving ding from his table.

The soft sounds lulled you to sleep, and you felt one last kiss on your forehead before you fell into a real sleep, for the first time in a long time. You knew something real about your life for the first time:

You’re safe here.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader #Tony stark x reader fluff #tony stark fluff #Tony stark x anxiety!reader #Tony stark anxiety #protective tony stark #Tony stark x depressed!reader #iron man x reader #iron man x you #Tony stark x you #fluff #abuse #avenger x reader #mcu fluff #mcu avengers

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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Escape

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Notes: Actual pairing interaction starts in the second section after the Reader character gets out of the elevator, feel free to skip down to that if you like. Reader thinks about Peter in the first section, but it is more setting up how they got so separated from the others, plus a Wolvie cameo. I wanted Peter x Reader to be able to have more interaction away from the group.

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse. You and the others have been taken to Stryker’s base and must survive to find your way out together.

Warnings: Wolverine cameo advisory with a 100% chance of stabby stab. Mild language.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

“The day of reckoning is here.”

Your eyes opened at once, that unmistakeable voice now reverberating through your mind as fluorescent lights passed one after another above you.

“Professor?” You breathed aloud, immediately trying to sit up on the moving gurney.

But the restraints were drawn too tightly as your head only rebounded backward just as quickly when your torso didn’t rise in tandem.

“Shit!” the guard to your left cursed, his hand drawing back from the gurney rail at your sudden movement.

You turned your head towards him, confused, even as the professor’s words continued in your mind.

Yet Xavier’s voice sounded strange, forced. And you didn’t understand the context. Was it a warning? A threat to someone?

It didn’t really seem to fit the current circumstances to say it was directed at you or your captors. But he only kept speaking.

“The dawn of a new era will emerge. For there is nothing you can do...to stop what is coming.”

The two guards were looking around too then, reacting in sync with the telepathic message leaving you no doubt that they could hear it as well.

But why would Xavier be in their heads too? Did he already know where you were?

One guard chided the other, as if the two of them didn’t both have the same frightened expression. “Damn stun pulse is wearing off it is all, just hurry up and finish this transport. Colonel Stryker wants it taken to the lower testing bay,”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t hearing that voice?” The other guard retorted, “What the hell is that?”

Did they just call you an ‘it’? What was this place? Not a hospital surely. But you could barely dwell on the implications of the guard’s words ‘lower testing bay’, and the impending threat that represented as your last memories finally began to bubble up.

The X-Mansion in rubble, the helicopters swooping in over the trees, the students and staff unconscious in the grass, that soldier cracking your ribs, and-

Peter.

He was a stranger to you still, but he’d been right there against you. Surely you had drawn more attention to him just because your powers had let you resist a few moments longer than the others. Because you’d been so stubborn, not going down until you’d been forced to.

If these men had hurt any of your friends, you would be furious. But if Peter, who had also saved so many of your friends was now in more severe danger because of your actions, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

“Where did you take the others!?” You arched against the restraints abruptly, your palms opening to face upward, trying to summon any bit of your energy at all. A wisp, an orb, anything that could have helped you right now. You had to find your friends.

But nothing came. Not even a glow or flicker of what you truly were as you now had both guards’ full attention.

“Freak! Just shut up!” One of them shoved the gurney in retaliation to your outburst, the caster wheels rattling across the concrete floor before the bed rail hit against one of the walls, jarring you painfully.

“Those with the greatest power. Protect those without. That's my message to the world.”

Xavier concluded his words then. And somehow, that sounded more like himself than any of the rest of it. The real meaning still eluded you, but hearing him in that tone at least meant he was okay. He was somewhere urging the rest of you on. At least this part you knew was true as you took a calming breath, realizing panic and anger would serve you nothing right now.

Something was blocking your powers. That much was obvious. It would be unrealistic to think that the effects of any stun weapon would be this long lasting though.

On the other hand, you knew chemicals existed that could also temporarily block mutations. Hank used one almost medicinally whenever he didn’t wish to be in his true “Beast” form. But it had to be injected direct into the veins to have any real effect.

You could feel that they hadn’t removed any of your clothing, nor had they rolled up the long sleeves you were wearing. You doubted they would risk a chemical like that wearing off at an inopportune time and likely would have started an IV if they possessed anything of that nature.

There were no tubes or lines attached to you that you could tell, only the restraints now holding you to this bed. Leather straps across your body, metal cuffs on your ankles and wrists-

But wait, you were able to move your head as you’d already discovered. You shifted it again, trying to get a better feel of what was around your neck. Metal as well, but loose as you could still lift your head up enough to see it just a bit. It and its dull, red status light.

Inhibitor collar, you realized with an all new dread sinking in. You had heard of these of course, but it was the kind of thing that students sheltered at Xavier’s school would never have to dream of really. Something you never thought you’d have to experience personally.

How naive.

But you still couldn’t give up. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with any strategies now. Your options were so limited, but they couldn’t keep you tied down forever. Surely they’d have to move you to a more permanent containment at some point, untie you if even for a moment.

Yet, there were guns as well. You hadn’t missed that detail, but you considered it more fully now as you glanced to the long barrells swaying behind each guard’s back as they pushed you along.

They were slowing now though. You raised your head enough again to see elevator doors nearing. The lower testing bay, you remembered them saying.

But just as one guard had started to reach for the keypad beside the doors, an alarm blared, all three of you startling at the sound.

Orange lights lit up along the walls, spinning in time with the sirens.

“Weapon X is loose. I repeat, Weapon X is loose!” A man’s unnerved voice sounded over speakers you couldn’t see, echoing down the corridors.

You could only watch as both guards spun around on their heels at that, guns immediately drawn. The one thing you could be absolutely sure of then, was that you were now the very least of their concerns.

Before you could consider how to use this surprise in your favor though, screams and the echo of gunfire erupted seemingly on top of you all.

The guards were terrified. This could be your only chance.

“Take this collar off of me, please! I can help you!” You weren’t begging as much as you were truly trying to reason with them. “Look, this is serious right!?”

More men were screaming just around the corner. Only feet away now. Clearly their time to consider had run out.

You saw one of the guards glance down at you, weighing your offer if just for that moment. The other was still staring straight ahead, gun braced, body rigid.

“FIRE!” The one not looking at you screamed, and that was it. It was too late.

You flinched as the gunfire rang deafening in your ears, the muzzle flashes just above you while empty bullet shells rained onto the floor.

You didn’t know how many bullets their gun magazines could hold, but the barrage seemed to just go on and on until an inhuman snarl rose even above the pounding gunshots.

Like a blur he was upon them. One guard was immediately thrown against a nearby wall, as if he were made of paper. His gun didn’t even faze the attacker.

You were frozen as you had to watch him die in front of you. Metal blades impaled the guard, blood splatter running down the wall as his body fell. You wished the other guard would have just turned and ran, but that probably would have been fruitless now too if you were being honest.

The attacker had turned immediately back around, one slash knocking the gun away from the remaining guard, and the second taking out his throat.

You were too in shock to do anything but close your eyes in the moment you felt some of the blood hit you. It was warm was all you could really process, before you opened your eyes again to now see the killer standing over you.

His breath was fast, eyes black, no emotion evident but rage. He had no clothing on him above the waist, just muscular and bloodied with metal cords coming out of his body and attaching to some sort of helmet.

You heard the random sound of more bits of metal hitting the ground, and thought you saw a few bullets working out in reverse from his flesh.

He was one of you then, a mutant.

But you were afraid to speak. Anything could set him off again.

He was looking down at you, through you really. You thought you saw his eyes go to your throat. The collar? Or maybe you just imagined it. Everything was happening in just seconds.

His arm swung suddenly, those blades were part of him you realized, attached to his fists as they came for you. At least it would be a quick death.

You felt a burning, heard ripping and even the metal of the bed breaking as he struck more than once.

“He’s here!” Someone else screamed from back down the hallway and the gunfire started all over again.

You moved at the sound, why you didn’t know, it should have been all over regardless. But in your amazement, you realized you could move. His claws had broken through the restraints, broken the bolts that held you to the bed. You were bleeding, but only from cuts as he’d grazed you.

He’d freed you.

The gurney tumbled over with a clatter as you jumped from it. But bullets were hitting all around you as the guards continued to fire at him. You still had the inhibitor collar on, so you couldn’t defend from that. You weren’t bulletproof like him.

And he was already charging them again, but there were so many this time. A bullet grazed your arm, and you knew you had to get out of there now.

You turned, hitting the elevator keypad. You had no choice as you wouldn’t make it out of this hallway otherwise. You ducked inside as soon as the doors opened, trying to stay against the sides even as bullets were now hitting the back of the elevator. The only way was down, and you took it.

As the doors closed, and the elevator finally sank below the firing line, you allowed yourself some real breaths.

To think, just hours ago your main concern had only been whether or not you were ready for Hank’s organic chemistry final. You’d laugh if you weren’t still trembling a little, clothes torn and blood all over, most of it not even your own.

Now it was time to find the others and a way out.

—————————

“(Y/N)?” You heard in your mind, pausing in the abandoned hallway you were now wandering down. You’d left the elevator behind some time ago, but hadn’t yet found any other way back off this level.

“Jean?” You answered aloud, both surprised and relieved. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. We are now. I saw them take you too, but where are you?”

Talking to a telepath was always a bit strange. You could feel her own stress and anxiety as she began to fill your mind. She wanted to see what you were seeing.

You looked around you to oblige her, but from what you could tell every corridor only looked like more of the same in this labyrinth.

“I got into an elevator when all the shooting started, when that man-“

“Logan. We met him too. He’s escaped now, he-” She paused, your recent memories now visible to her. “He helped you.”

“He did.” You felt she both was and wasn’t surprised at this.

“Anyway,” She continued as if something was distracting her, like she was physically talking to someone else, while mentally talking to you. “The Professor needs us. We’re sending Peter to find you. He’ll bring you to us and then we’re leaving together.”

“Okay,” Was all you could answer, as you felt Jean leave your mind abruptly at that. You remembered Xavier’s odd speech earlier, something you really hadn’t had time to deconstruct any further with everything else that had happened immediately after. You supposed they would fill you in when you were all reunited.

But you did feel a significant weight leave your shoulders at the mention of Peter’s name, even though it sounded like this horrific day was still far from over. He was okay too then at least. You hadn’t screwed up enough to get him hurt in a way you couldn’t take back.

Yet how long would it take for him to find you? Should you just stay in place, or go back to the elevator now? You hadn’t found any stairwells or other-

“(Y/N)?”

You’d be lying to say you didn’t almost fall over in surprise as a tiny gust of air was the only other thing that announced him as Peter was suddenly standing beside you.

“You’re as bad as Kurt!” You gasped, before you could stop yourself. You clenched one fist at your side, at least having the self control not to punch him right in the arm as you might have done with some of the boys at school if they had given you that kind of scare.

“That’s the blue kid with the tail right? Not to be confused with the big blue hairy guy, he’s the one that told me your name by the way, or the blue famous chick from TV?” He shook his head, but his eyes were amused. “You guys have some kind of quota on the color blue or what?”

You stared at him. He did like to talk didn’t he?

When you didn’t respond right away, you saw his eyes wander down, then back up. “Red said you’d be a bit of a mess, but you sure you’re okay?”

Your shirt was torn from well, now you knew him as Logan...that man’s claws. Those cuts were still bleeding a bit, but the guard’s blood was on you as well. The metal shackles were also still on your wrists and ankles, though their chains had been broken, and the inhibitor collar was around your neck. Yes, you must look quite a sight.

“You mean Jean,” you corrected. She must have given him some warning at least before sending him. “Yeah, I’m fine. So you found another way out of here, we should-”

But he didn’t seem to be listening, either that or you weren’t very convincing on the being okay sentiment.

He looked quite serious all of the sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you when Colonel douchebag was trying to work you over.”

You blinked. What was he talking about?

“Stryker I guess they said his name was, the guy that kicked you back at the house.” He just continued. “That piece of shit bailed already.”

“How did you know about that?” You asked honestly. Peter had been unconscious as far as you’d known.

“I mean I was in and out,” He answered, seemingly understanding your confusion now. “But uh...” He hesitated, kind of an awkward smirk building then. “I definitely remember you laying on me. The impact wasn’t that great, but afterward was pretty nice.”

Your felt a heat rising to your face immediately. The absurdity of being physically embarrassed at his implication and tone, as you stood here literally bleeding in the belly of some mutant torturing black ops lab was not lost on you.

“Look, I...” You didn’t even know what to say, but you knew if you didn’t start talking now you were never going to recover control here. “I’m really glad they didn’t hurt you, and I’m sorry too if I got you involved deeper in all of this. And I want to thank you for pulling everyone out of the mansion this morning. We owe you so much. I just-” Oh man, where were you even going with this? You looked to him still feeling like you were just digging yourself deeper, “You can stop me anytime now you know?”

He was now outright grinning. “You’re welcome, babe.”

Not helping. AT ALL.

You were staring at him again. “They’re going to be waiting on us, you know,” You felt you were going to be pleading with him in a moment.

“I know, places to be, worlds to save...” He just moved closer and you tensed a little bit. He noticed, but stood his ground. “I have to brace you or you’re just going to be hurt even more when I run you back to them.”

“So is that how you do it, then? You’re just that fast?” You asked honestly. His actual mutation wasn’t something there’d been any chance to discuss. You could infer only so many ways he would have been able to evacuate those in the mansion almost instantaneously. But you knew teleporters too, even people who could move through reality on other planes. There was always more than one way to do something.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He chuckled, smirking enough for you to know he was still just picking with you as one of his hands went behind your head and the other to your ribs to brace you. He really did know where you’d been hit then.

His hands were warm, and you could smell that damn cologne again now as you tried to ready yourself for whatever was about to happen.

You didn’t know what you had expected. You knew how it felt to take off in a jet, or slam the gas pedal down in one of the Professor’s expensive cars, or ride on a really intense roller coaster. But this wasn’t that. There wasn’t even any time for your brain to register the acceleration. It felt like just a single heartbeat before you were standing back in front of those elevator doors with him.

It was the deceleration that hit you. By the time your body knew it was moving, it had already stopped again, your organs lurching and your equilibrium completely thrown off as vertigo took over. You leaned forward immediately, trying not to dry heave as puking seemed almost imminent.

He took one of your hands, his other hand moving down from your ribs to your waist as he helped support you still.

“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone the first time,” He spoke, probably the softest tone you’d heard from him to this point.

“You’re telling me there are people who have been-” You swallowed, fighting that nausea back down. “have been with you multiple times?” You meant to say multiple times like that. People who needed to be rescued this way multiple times. You stood up, still queasy as you tried to face him and correct this blunder immediately. Why did this guy have you so flustered!?

“I’m not normally like this,” you stammered, waiting for some great retort from him as you’d just left yourself wide open with that slip.

It was only then that you realized he still had one hand on your waist, and you were now facing him, just inches apart. And the silence was worse. It was much worse while he was just looking back at you.

“No,” He finally said, “I uh...I don’t have anyone that’s stayed around long enough for that.”

He wasn’t joking at all now and you knew it.

“I didn’t mean...” You started, but stopped again when you didn’t know how to finish.

But the vulnerability was gone just as soon as it’d come. His smirk returned as he let go of you, moving forward to hit the keypad for the elevator. “I did look for stairwells by the way, if you were wondering. It only took me as long as it did to find you down here because this damn elevator is slow as hell.”

You actually were a little relieved to finally be focusing back to the task at hand. But you still felt an unspoken conversation lingering that would need to be continued later. You wanted him to know who you really were.

And honestly...you now wanted to know who he really was.

The harsh buzz from the keypad brought you back to attention as Peter hit it again.

A tiny screen blinked “CODE ERROR” in red as he groaned. “It didn’t need a damn code to come down, that makes no sense!”

You responded in a few moments, realizing the likely truth fairly quickly. “But it would make sense if you were more concerned about things getting out of the lab than you were of things getting in.” The same would be true for the lack of entry and exit points. They surely weren’t concerned with fire safety or anything else but keeping their specimens captive when they built this place.

“Ugh, that’s dark,” He answered, glancing at you and then back to the keypad. “You’re almost making me not feel so bad for all the guys that looked like swiss cheese on the way down here. But lucky for you, you’ve got me, and these five hombres.” He waved his fingers at you before immediately beginning to punch in multiple codes in faster succession than of course would have been possible for anyone else.

“Peter, I don’t think-” You started, already having a good suspicion of how this might play out, before the keypad abruptly quit accepting inputs, the tiny screen then blinking LOCKOUT. The only thing that did surprise you was a new even thicker door suddenly closing over the original elevator doors.

And you couldn’t help it then. You laughed. A real laugh. It was just the dumbest icing on the cake. “Okay, Han Solo. I think that will do.” You didn’t care if he would understand the reference or not. You needed that laugh right now.

But he didn’t let you down. Not even for a moment. “Okay then Leia, then you show me how we’re getting past here to save the ugly little ewoks.”

You were still snickering a little, but you shook your head. “I can’t,” You motioned to the inhibitor collar still around your neck. “Not with this on. It’s blocking my powers.” You had hoped once you were all back topside that Hank would be able to disarm the thing. It was probably radio controlled or something like that. “We’ll have to wait on Jean and the others to realize we’re taking too long, they’ll come for us.”

“I don’t wait,” Peter retorted. “Besides, like I said, I showed you mine. Time to show me yours.” He tilted his head, eyeing you. “Really, I’ve been dying to know.”

“Sure you have,” You were skeptical, but it was actually hard to read him right now. Was he actually that curious about you? “And I’ve already tried to take it off, it doesn’t budge.”

“Again, babe. You didn’t have me before.” The smug tone was back, as he evidently had some plan you didn’t know if you were going to like or not.

“You realize, this thing is nearly against my jugular veins, right? What are you going to do?” You had every right to be hesitant you thought. Especially after the keypad failure.

“Just be still. I’m going to vibrate it apart.” He answered confidently.

Okay, now you really didn’t like this. “Again, head, throat, things I need to stay in one piece. What if it has some self destruct thing and explodes?”

“I can pull you away from that before it even burns you. How do you think your friends lived when your house blew up this morning?”

You could have mentioned Alex’s fate then, but that would have been needlessly cruel. Alex must have already been gone before Peter even entered the building. He did save everyone else you thought.

“Trust me,” Peter looked you in the eyes and you could feel yourself relenting.

You really did believe him it seemed. Hopefully that faith was not misplaced. “Please be careful,” You closed your eyes, going stock still.

“For you? Of course.”

You heard his jacket move, which told you he was raising his arms. Internally you tensed-

And then all you heard were pieces of metal and circuitry skittering across the floor in every direction. You were still standing exactly as you had been as you opened your eyes to a too pleased with himself Peter.

“Some shrapnel did try to go into your face, but I moved the pieces. No kaboom though.” His expression changed then to happily expectant, “So come on, I’ve helped three times now, the stage is now yours,” He made an exagerrated motion to the big metal door now blocking the elevator. “What’s your poison?”

Poison? An interesting way to put it, but you knew what he meant. All mutant abilities were both a gift and a curse. Yet even after all these years of meeting people of your own kind, it was still very personal to show someone your real self for the very first time.

Especially when you evidently cared what he thought of you as you realized your nerves were suddenly about much more than just being able to get open a door or not. How would he react?

You took a breath, still extremely aware of his eyes on you as you turned your palms upward. It was always easiest to start with your hands. But you’d need to bring the energy all the way through you to get the kind of power it was going to take to pull this door out.

There was a slight relief in you as your hands began to glow white after a moment. At least you knew you were no longer defenseless, that these people hadn’t taken your abilities permanently.

In your peripheral vision you could see Peter shift, but you didn’t look to him, trying to concentrate as the energy spread up your arms and you closed your eyes. It always felt so warm, like being in the sun on a clear day. It spread to your chest, legs, up your shoulders and over your face. Even through your hair as you willed the energy to lift you up, now completely enveloped until you were a silhouette of a person. Glowing in soft white light and levitating about a foot off the floor.

You opened your eyes again, feeling you had things in control enough now to speak to him. The tone of your voice changed slightly in this form though. There was a hum to it, the energy moving across your vocal chords like every other part of you.

“I’m going to try and pull the door out of the way and into the hall. Please be ready to move as I won’t have a lot of control over it once it gives. My effort is going to all be on breaking it.”

You looked to him after a moment though when he didn’t respond. You knew he was fast enough to keep himself safe obviously, but you had to be sure he was ready. Was he really just staring at you? “Peter?”

He blinked. “Yeah, uh. That’s...” He stepped back from the door, but never took his eyes off you, this weird expression on his face. “That’s cool.”

“Please mind the door,” You reiterated gently, not quite sure what to make of his reaction to your powers.

“Sure, sure thing.” He sounded more like himself then. “Do your deal.”

Your deal as he put it, involved willing this same energy now in a field around the door as you rose your hand up to control it. Once you were sure you had it solidly, you began pulling your hand back, trying to pull the door out of its railing.

It gradually started to creak, but like you’d thought, this was going to take some real doing. You pulled harder and harder, the metal just groaning louder. “Come on,” You spoke, not really sure if you were talking more to yourself or the door.

Your arm was starting to really ache with the effort. But just when you thought you might have to try something else after all, you finally felt the door give. And when it gave, it did so spectacularly. This massive chunk of metal collapsed, exploding out of its rail as it rocketed down the hallway. You just moved to the side to avoid it, the smaller pieces hitting you harmlessly in this form.

To your eyes it only looked like Peter disappeared and then reappeared as he also easily missed all the debris.

Once that obstacle was out of the way, you glided down, back to the normal elevator doors. They were slightly damaged from the removal of the larger door. But now it only took minimum effort to force them open.

You entered the elevator, the inner keypad was also blinking that same “LOCKOUT” error from earlier. So the elevator itself was going nowhere. But this was now no longer an issue for you.

“I can carry us up,” You looked to Peter, though unsure how comfortable he would be with this new idea.

He was standing at the entrance of the elevator already, watching you still. You could see the wheels in his head turning. And then he finally asked. “So, you’re glowing...and flying. Is this like radioactive glow, or I just need some sunscreen kind of glow?”

“It’s just light energy in the visible spectrum.” You answered reflexively. “But not even UV, the wavelength itself doesn’t cause any damage. It’s only when I make it solid or make it unstable that I can do anything harmful with it.”

You could see he may have skipped the lessons on long and short wave energy and radiation in science class as he just kept staring.

“You’re fine, it’s safe” You smiled. Certainly not the first time you had heard such questions. “The Professor and Hank had me tested from the very beginning, I never would have been allowed so close to other students without more precautions if I was that dangerous.”

“So you’re...close to some other students?” He asked almost tauntingly, one eyebrow raised, and it took you a moment before you realized he may be getting back at you for your comments from before.

It was probably just the fact that you were in your energy form now, but you felt confident enough to respond just as quickly, “It’s more like the Brady Bunch than what you’re thinking. Like having a whole house of little brothers and sisters.”

You had already opened up the ceiling of the elevator while the two of you talked, looking up now to the empty shaft and elevator cables. It’d be much easier to move the two of you rather than to try and lift the whole elevator. You reached a hand out to Peter. “I can lift us up the shaft to the floor that the others are on and open the doors, then you can take us to them. Deal?”

You had trusted him to bring you here, as well as to remove that collar from you. Would he now trust you to bring him up several floors without dropping him?

He was looking at your hand. “I probably could just run up the walls you know.”

You paused, realizing you hadn’t considered that. You didn’t really know what all he was capable of truly. But just as you started to lower your hand, he surprised you by grabbing and holding it.

“Yet how many guys can say they flew with you, huh?”

“Practically none,” You admitted. “I don’t make a habit of picking up my friends.”

“You aren’t quite building confidence here.”

“I’m sure that door weighed more than you.”

“And look how it ended up. Again, not comforting.”

This guy was truly something else. “Come here, we take much longer and they really are going to be sending a search party for us.”

You extended the energy from your hand across his body gently. He was obviously much lighter than the door, and the closer you kept him, the easier it would be to move the both of you.

You tried not to make eye contact with him again as you levitated the two of you through the top of the elevator and up through the shaft. Even though you knew you were fully capable of doing this, you still didn’t want to lose focus.

But his voice didn’t sound frightened at all as he spoke up to let you know how high to go. “They’re on the top floor, we’re stealing a jet to get out of here.”

“Wow, but okay. Got it,” You sped up a little at that, no longer worried about passing your landing point as you went straight to the top.

When you reached the highest doors, you were able to force them open with a turn of your free hand, bringing you and Peter safely through and back onto solid ground.

You powered down immediately as your feet met the floor, the light fading back into your body until you were just standing there in your torn, bloody clothes once more. “Okay, I’m ready to get nauseous again, let’s go.”

He actually squeezed your hand before he let go of it in order to brace your head and ribs again. “For the record that felt pretty good. You’re really warm. Zero g’s was cool too. Thanks.”

“Um...you’re welcome?” You answered, a little flustered all over again to your own dismay, and really not knowing what else to say before he whisked you away in an instant.

It really was going to be the longest day ever.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximof x reader #x men apocalypse #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #x men fanfiction #x men

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djarinsbeskar · 4 years ago

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PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

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@geannad @ayamenimthiriel @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209 @nova646 @pychedelic-rainbow

#the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fic #din djarin #mando x reader #mando fic #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Just friends

Pairing: Sky x reader

==============================

After an entire night of sipping beer and looking for someone to connect with, Y/N finally found a guy that truly stood out. Tall, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair that reminded her of a certain Specialist she wanted to forget and those eyes….Phew, those emerald green eyes that drew her in with their promise of a good time she’s been looking for truly captured her attention.

Standing a little too close to him in order to keep up a conversation with music blaring, Y/N allowed herself to lean into his lean body, his hand resting on the small of her back. His lips called out to her, or the beer in her system made it seem so. Whatever the case may be, she didn’t really care.

Y/N wanted someone to feel close to and he looked like someone appropriate; similar to the very cause of the aching heart she’s trying to ignore. The way he looked at her showed he’s just as interested as she is, but his eyes kept glancing at something or someone behind them.

Irritated with his loss of focus, with her index finger on his chin, Y/N demanded his attention unapologetically.

“Ignore a fairy and she leaves.“ Y/N said with a light tone, but she hoped her pursed lips and slightly narrowed eyes were a warning he’d read.

Chuckling, the guy, Porter, nodded, licking his lips. Following his gaze, Y/N turns. Tossing her hair over her shoulder to make sure nothing obscured her vision, she gnaws on the inside of her lower lip.

On the far end of the room stood a handsome guy taller than Porter. He’s leaned against a wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest, hair floppy with blond bangs that fell on his forehead. He held a pensive look on his face, lips pressed together and dark blue eyes sending daggers Y/N’s way.

Sky.

“Who is he?“ Porter breaks up the little staring contest with a question. Turning to him, Y/N gives him an innocent smile, shrugging.

“No one important.“ She informs him, placing a hand on his chest. Trailing it upwards, she holds onto his shoulder and looks into his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, Porter glances at the guy and at Y/N once more, tilting his head. “Not a jealous boyfriend or anything?“ He questions, unconvinced by her previous answer.

Y/N sighs, faking a smile that never really failed to trick those around her; especially not him. She could never fool him, even when she tried. Somehow, he always knew better.

“Nope.“ She says, popping the P for effect. Feeling her heartbeat quicken its pace, she keeps that smile frozen on her face as if she had used her ice powers on herself, knowing it’s rehearsed to perfection.

“Does he know that?“ Porter asks, smirking.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N let him go, moving out of his embrace.

It took her a moment to stop herself from blowing up on the guy, annoyed by his constant questioning. She figured he’s a senior in Specialist training looking for a way to blow off steam that wouldn’t ask too many questions, but Porter proved to be anything but.

“Be right back.�� She taps his arm, turning around and walking towards the door.

Leaving the basement, she sits on the steps. They’re cold but she’s used to cold - she’s the ice queen anyway. She knew she’d have to be waiting patiently only for a short time. Moments later, the door opens again, the man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her coming outside.

“Took you long enough.“ She huffs, focusing her eyes on the ground in front of her instead of him. She didn’t have to look at him to know who it is. She knew by the sound of his footsteps, the left one always releasing a slight creak on the floorboards as he stepped with his entire foot while he only stepped with his heel on the right one.

Taking a seat next to her, Sky doesn’t look at her either.

“He’s not good enough for you.“ With those words, Y/N feels his piercing gaze on her. The emotion in Sky’s eyes is fathoms deep, yet they carry the warmth and life of the sunlit surface. They have a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel radiating in softly swooping arcs and they leave Y/N breathless, as they always do.

Blood rushes to her face, turning up the temperature in her head to a dangerous level and it wasn’t from his eyes on her…it was that statement. His sentence had pissed her off enough for ice to swallow the steps they sit on; enough to lose control.

“You don’t get to say that.“ Y/N spits, standing up. Body rigid from anger, hands clenched so tight she felt her knuckles turning a pale color with a disruption in blood circulation. “Or anything to me. Ever.“ She turns to him with narrowed eyes.

Sky didn’t look away, no matter how cold her glare got. She hated how he could withstand it as it tore her apart.

“I only have your best interests in mind.“ Sky dares to say, fixing his tender gaze upon her as if his words were meant to calm the storm inside. His fingers twitch, like he can’t decide if he should reach out or keep physical contact to a minimum in fear of making the situation a lot worse.

Looking up in disbelief, Y/N releases something between a choked sob and a chuckle. Biting her lower lip to keep herself from shouting, her eyes fall back on the man before her.

“Don’t. Just…don’t.“ Placing a hand on her hip, she uses the other one to point her index finger at him.

“You said we were friends and then you kissed me! And then you told me we would never happen!” Shaking her head, Y/N sighs. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t stare down every guy I talk to or tell me they’re not good enough or...” Pausing, she stops before she breaks her own heart.

She thought, ‘Friends don’t look at friends the way you’re looking at me now’, but what’s the point? He’s determined it means nothing. That she means nothing.

Standing, she points her finger at him again, “Stop. Alright? I’m tired of waiting, I’m tired of arguing! Just leave me alone.”

Standing as well, Sky seems to have made up his mind and went for it. He grabs her finger, wrapping his hand around her entire fist with ease, pulling her closer to him. Flush against his firm chest, Y/N dares not look up, feeling his raging heartbeat through the palm pressed over his sternum.

“I never meant to hurt you. Do you know that?“ He whispers. His warm breath reaches her forehead, fanning away a couple of loose strands of her hair.

"Sky, I can’t do this right now.“ She feels her head spinning. Being so close to him was too much too fast. Especially after he broke her heart.

“You’re my best friend.“ Sky’s voice breaks, his chin resting atop her head.

She could feel him pulling her closer, pressing his body against hers in a mock embrace, but she’s just a frozen statue in his arms. There is no way for her to relax. If she did, she’d break and she never wanted to break in front of him. Not again.

Placing both palms against his chest, ignoring the way his heart rushed with the contact, she pushes with all her might. Moving away as Sky stumbles backwards, Y/N turns her back on him. Feeling her chin tremble as his warmth leaving her body renders her as cold as the ice in her veins, her eyes close She never found the cold bothersome, not until she felt the warmth of Sky’s embrace and tender kisses.

“Yeah, well…things changed. You know very well how that came to be.“ Y/N’s response is surprisingly calm, but she’s certain Sky could read her emotions even without looking at her properly. After all, he knew her for so long…In a way, they grew up together.

“Why am I to blame for that, huh? I can’t help how I feel.“ Sky defends, lips parted as Y/N scoffs, turning back to face him.

She shakes her head slightly. It feels surreal that she has to have this conversation with him again.

“You left me standing there without a word. I poured my heart out and you had nothing to say! You couldn’t be with me? You’re not good enough? You can’t give me the answer I want? Well, guess what? I can’t give you the answer you want either.“ Y/N’s voice trembles as she speaks, feeling every muscle in her face clench under the pressure of keeping a straight face. Her entire body shakes, but she’s determined to keep herself centered.

Going to a dance with her best friend was meant to be fun and an experience she’ll never forget. However, the entire night she was stuck with Riven while the guy she wanted to dance with was away flirting with Stella, Bloom, everyone but her. She didn’t mind Riven, he’s definitely someone she considers to be very close to her heart, but she was in love with his roommate.

The guys took her home, Sky walked her to the door to make sure she got in safely. It gave her butterflies, but it was just who Sky is. He always made sure she was taken care of and protected. Always.

However, that night, Y/N was unsheltered, vulnerable in every way possible. She couldn’t keep her secret any longer.

Turning back, she looks at him, shaking. Averting her gaze to the right, only to focus it back on him, she wraps her arms around herself for reassurance.

“Everything okay?“ Sky steps closer, tilting his head.

Shaking her head as an answer, Y/N musters up some courage fueled by years of jealousy and heartache.

“Do you love me?“ She blurts out, slightly bouncing on her feet though the heels she wore made her feet hurt.

Sky smiles widely, rolling his eyes at her playfully before answering. “You know I do.“

Shaking her head furiously, feeling her heart beating so fast her head is pounding and her knees are weak, she explains.

“No, I mean. Do you LOVE me?“ she emphasizes, leaning on her right leg more for balance. She watches the look of realization cross his face, confusion taking place. He didn’t say a damn thing, just looked at her like she had uttered the most atrocious insult.

Blinking fast, she bites her lip so hard, feeling a metallic taste of blood in her mouth as a result.

“Sky, do you?“ Her voice cracks, the last part coming out almost as a whisper.

Sky stares at her, searching for an appropriate answer in her eyes in hopes of escaping this entire conversation, but he’s dead silent.

“Say something!“ She whisper shouts, desperate for a reply. She had opened up to him, completely vulnerable and at his mercy and all he gave in return was a lost stare and fast, shallow breathing by the way his chest moved.

Until he moved toward her, pushing her against the locked door. Before she has a chance to say anything, his lips capture hers and her eyes widen in shock. Arms wrapping around her waist gave her courage to entangle her hands in his hair, drawing him closer to her.

Breathless, she couldn’t think, she didn’t want to. Being in the moment, drowning in his tender, yet passionate touch was more than enough.

But as unexpected as the kiss was, so was the moment Sky broke it. He steps back, lips swollen and smudged from hers, even more kissable than before. He opens his mouth and Y/N’s ready to hear him say it back, to promise her they would try, but when Sky speaks, her heart breaks.

“I…I can’t give you the answer you want.“ Sky spoke slowly, continuing. “You’re…you’ve always been out of my league.“ Taking a step closer, he keeps talking as she grimaces at the unwanted closeness. Moments ago, Y/N wanted him closer, but it made her queasy now.

“You’re just so…perfect!“ He exclaims, outstretching his arms in her direction.

She tries to step back, tensing up as she realizes she’s backed against the door already. She has nowhere to run.

“I’m not good enough for you. I will NEVER be good enough to be with you.“ Sky’s arms return to his side, understanding she’s not interested in any sort of touching.

She nods in disbelief, not believing his logic nor the words he spoke. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse. Especially when it’s not true. But if this is the way you want to handle things….Then this is goodbye.“

Barely holding back tears, she watched Sky turn around, leaving her broken and alone with her heart bleeding on the ground after he so carelessly tossed it from his hands.

What hurts is that he didn’t even try to fight for her to at least remain a friend. He didn’t even try to stay. He simply stole her peace of mind and stomped on her heart and left.

In the end, the night was definitely one she wouldn’t forget, simply not for the good memories.

“I just want you back.“ Sky’s eyes brim with tears he hadn’t shed in years, leaving her speechless, but firm as he continues. “I’m not me without you.”

Y/N couldn’t give in. Sometimes you have to take care of oneself and this is one of those times. She gave him every chance and when it came down to it, he didn’t take them.

“I wanted many things and I didn’t get any of them. I don’t blame you for not loving me back, Sky. I don’t. I just wish you would understand how it feels for me.“ She says softly, feeling a crack in the tall, icy wall specifically meant to keep him out of her heart.

“I never said I don’t love you back”, Sky breathes out as the door opened again, Porter stepping out.

Porter’s eyes immediately find hers, showing his concern and caution. “Everything okay here?“ Porter asks.

Folding her arms across her chest, she releases a shaky sigh. Did Sky really just admit he loves her too? Was it serious or just a way to keep her close?

She can’t make that into something it’s not. Not again.

“We’re okay. No biggie.“ She plasters a smile that Sky could read as a fake one a mile away, but Porter seems to be clueless.

“Want me to take you to your room?“ Porter returns her smile, standing in front of her. She notices he keeps glancing back at Sky, unsure of what went down moments before he arrived.

“Unless someone has something against it?“ She looks at her former best friend, hoping he’d give her a reason to stay. One word would be enough, to say that he really does love her again. She saw him saying it in her mind a thousand times, but in reality, his lips parted without a single word leaving his mouth.

He didn’t care that much after all. If he did, it wasn’t enough. It’s just not enough.

Taking Porter’s hand, she smiles genuinely now, pulling him along without looking back.

“Let’s go.“

And all Sky can think of as he watches them leave is that it might take his whole life to make it right, but he truly felt he did the right thing for her; for them. He never dreamed it would have broken their friendship.

Perhaps he’s guilty for the kiss he’d have died if he didn’t feel against his lips that night, because letting her go without ever tasting her would haunt him forever.

Joke’s on him - the kiss, she, would haunt him regardless. It was the first time he felt connected to anything, but he isn’t good for her. Not now when his father is back and adamant on ruining his life.

He must protect her from Andreas and he will. Even if it costs him everything.

PART 2

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