#was actually in one of the darkest times of my life looking for a place
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hailthegodsong · 1 month ago
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not sure if anyone cares but i finally found a place! i am so relieved you have no idea
please could you guys please please please pray for me i applied for a lease and i’m really really scared they won’t approve it since it’s a short term but i really need this place im so so stressed cant sleep cant eat please pray for me
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hacked-wtsdz · 1 year ago
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Every time I read or watch Lord of the Rings I can’t help but think about how Tolkien had survived one of the bloodiest, most cruel, most dirtiest and darkest wars in human history, came back and wrote this:
“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
And this:
"'I wish it need not have happened in my time,' said Frodo.
'So do I,' said Gandalf, 'and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'"
And this:
"I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend."
And this:
“Many that live deserve death and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be so eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the wise cannot see all ends."
And this:
“True courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.”
And clearly they were all written partly because he survived the war, because of what he’d seen and done and learned. But at the same time the unwillingness to lose faith, the courage and strength that this man had to believe in these things after going through hell! It makes the nihilists look so cheap, so uninteresting! People who’ve went through concentration camps and wars believe in humanity anyway, isn’t that proof that hope and love exist? And many, many, many of them did not return or returned broken and cruel and traumatised to the point when no faith in others was possible for them, and nobody can blame them. But there were many who refused to lose faith and hope. They have seen some of the worst that life has to offer and came back believing that we shouldn’t be eager to deal out death in judgement and should love only that which the sword defends.
No matter how many people say that humanity is horrible and undeserving of love, and life is dark and worthless, and love doesn’t exist I remember this and have hope anyway. Because there were people who have actually had all reason to believe in the worst and still believed in the good, so the good must be real. The good is real, even despite the evil, and we must trust in it.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago
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Jason finds the act of touching foreheads, or kissing the side of your head an intimate act between the two of you.
Upon pressing his forehead against your own for the first time after a particularly horrible nightmare -or more accurately night terror- Jason felt himself able to breathe. His mind was cleared of the fog within it that overstayed it’s welcome, long had become a thing of maliciousness and heavily distorted memories, he could see you and that’s all he needed to know that he was far away from the darkest moments of his life.
‘You’re okay Jason, just keep looking at me and follow my breathing.’ You tell him as you took one of his hands and placed it against your chest so he could feel your breathing pattern.
From that moment onwards Jason would always find himself resting his forehead against yours whenever he felt as though he was entering a dire situation, one where uncertainty of survival as an outcome, or whenever he just needed to feel you and know that you were just as flesh and bone as he was. It served as a reminder that he was human, even if he didn’t feel as though he was anything close to being human, it reminded him that he deserved peace and happiness in his life despite what he might have himself believe.
There wasn’t a day where Jason wasn’t resting his head against your own to breath you in, or kiss your temple just to feel your skin against your lips as he held you close to his chest. It’s an addictive feeling that Jason didn’t want to ever leave his system, it was a feeling that Jason want to actually keep feeling for the rest of his life if he was allowed to even wish for such a small thing.
After all wasn’t he allowed moments of domesticity? Of respite? Of peace? Or was the narrative to always keeping restless and tired of the injustice within Gotham to the point where he’d be mischaracterised to the point where even his own family weren’t able to distinguish the difference in him and the vengeful vigilante Red Hood.
You however could tell them apart with your eyes closed as far as Jason was aware, and to have one person be able to do that was more then enough for him to be content for the rest of his life because as long as it was you who was able to know where Jason begins and ends; then he knew he wasn’t fucking something else up in his disastrous life.
So whenever Jason got the chance to do so, his forehead was glued to yours the moment he walks through the door of your shared home, his hands cupping your face and caress your cheeks as he closes his eyes to breath you in deeply and be reminded of the blessing he had in his life; you. Clearing Gotham was still a priority but it was also now so that you could walk the streets safely without having to look over your shoulder now and then, but you had become a massive relief for Jason in more ways then one.
‘You’re okay.’ You’d heard him whisper to himself as though in reassurance and it broke your heart that he had to remind himself that you were okay, however now you would just hold his face and mimic his actions of caressing his cheeks in an effort to bring him comfort.
‘I’m okay, we’re okay.’ You replied softly as you felt him further relax against you, only having enough energy to move slightly away from you to kiss your temple before resting against your forehead once more, letting out a sigh of content.
‘We’re okay.’ He echoes, feeling a small smile grace across his lips that he felt as though he never thought he would be able to do again, well before he met you of course, he as a lot of you to thank for and he’ll get there in due time.
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avelera · 3 months ago
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Analysis: Why Jayce broke up with Mel in Arcane 2.08
Since the finale episodes of Arcane dropped this morning, I've been going back and re-watching some of my favorite scenes, and I was struck by Jayce breaking up with Mel.
First of all, yeah, he clearly does break up with her, though I missed how formally he does so on my first watch-through. He does it in the Council chamber, just before Viktor attacks. But since they get interrupted, he finishes breaking up with her (after checking in with her) on the balcony later.
But what really struck me about the breakup wasn't in those scenes, but actually back in 2.07, when Jayce is alone in cavern in the darkest timeline. I definitely didn't catch on the first viewing that this is where he chose to break up with her.
In the background, you can hear Jayce in the depths of his despair and solitude starts going over in his mind all the steps that led him to where he is.
Here are some of the quotes he hears:
"I never asked for this!" - Himself to Viktor, trying to justify his actions up to that point just before Viktor leaves him.
"This research is everything, my whole life," a quote from one of his first conversations with Viktor but, more importantly, it establishes Jayce's entire raison d'etre up to that point. Hextech research was his life.
"He was my mentor, Mel, and I betrayed him," obviously is Jayce discussing the coup d'etat against Heimerdinger he orchestrated to save Viktor, but it was with Mel's assistance and urging.
"You must destroy it. It corrupts. Consumes." A quote from Heimerdinger, warning against Hextech. Which must feel especially prescient now that Jayce is stuff in the evil bombed-out future where Hextech destroyed the world.
"I was trying to create magic." Jayce to the Council to defend his Hextech research and save himself from banishment, but, he only mentioned magic at Mel's goading, which I would guess he's beginning to recognize now for what it was in retrospect.
"It's your time now, Jayce." Mel, part of her goading of Jayce into advancing Hextech research and his political career.
"Perhaps it's time for the era of magic." Mel's words on the night she saw Hextech for the first time, after helping Jayce and Viktor break into Heimerdinger's lab.
"You must destroy it." Heimerdinger about the Hexcore, again, probably feeling pretty prescient right now with Jayce literally in the pit of despair in a the evil Hextech future.
Finally, while looking out over the fire while clearly going nearly insane from the isolation, Jayce begins to hallucinate seeing Mel. But then, her image in the fire gives way to Viktor's.
The decision has been made there. It's not just Jayce reflecting on his two closest loved ones (as I thought the first time), rather, it is the moment Jayce makes his decision: he is picking Viktor over Mel. He has decided that the reason he is here in this terrible place is because of Mel, not Viktor. He is choosing his partner, going back to what they had before she became involved in their life. His new course is set.
Now, I want to preface the next part by saying I love Mel, she's a fascinating character, and though I ship Jayvik I also ship/shipped MelJayVik, so this isn't coming from a place of bias. I'm just analyzing the material when I say these flashbacks were Jayce rearranging the narrative in his head and realizing Mel's been manipulating and goading him in his pursuit of Hextech.
Given where he is when this is happening: starving, freezing, in pain, alone for weeks if not months in a stone box, slowly going insane, surrounded by the burnt corpses of people destroyed by Hextech, I'd say... yeah. His need for someone to blame is pretty understandable. He even starts whispering, "No!" in a panic at the memories in response to what she says in his mind.
So when we get to the Council chamber in the main timeline in 2.08, I'd argue that Jayce is spoiling for a fight. He's had months of agony to decide things are over with Mel and that he's angry at her. He wants to blame her for what happened to Viktor, for what happened to him, and he's in pain and he wants to lash out. The relationship is definitely over.
But then Mel is in pain too. And Viktor shows up, with his own autonomy, showing that they all had their shitty parts to play in this drama.
The attack by Viktor adds another element, Jayce was probably also mourning that he had to shoot Viktor at that point, another thing that was painful and made him want to lash out and blame others for this horrible place he's in emotionally and the horrific place he's been in physically until recently.
It's only after Viktor's attack though that Jayce realizes that this situation is complex, it's not all Mel's fault. It would be easier to just pin all the blame on Mel and make Jayce and Viktor her victims, but Viktor shows to him that he has his own agency and Jayce needs to be clear-eyed going forward about who he is saving, because it's not "Mel's victim". Viktor is his own person.
Jayce also remembers some of the care he once had for Mel when he catches her before she falls (in a tender moment I mistook for a full reconciliation between them the first time but no, it's just him remembering he cares for her wellbeing). Jayce can't trust her anymore, after realizing just how adept she was at manipulating him without his realizing, but he does still care for her as a person. And he's cooled off enough to address the pain she is clearly carrying.
(I admit, I do love this moment of him calling himself an ass, because I adore Jayce but it's a lovely beat of self awareness and really shows his growth as a person that he can say this to someone that just hours before he was squaring up to fight against and blame for all his misfortunes.)
But anyway, the moments you really see that it's over between Mel and Jayce:
When he doesn't explain to her what happened to him. That's not for her to know anymore. He's decided that they're not together or intimate anymore. And he's probably still hurting from realizing how she's used what he told her in the past to encourage/manipulate him to her own ends and therefore wary of sharing. This is also a reason for the breakup: he can't share the immense pain he's been in because he can't trust her anymore, and he knows it. It's over.
In the scene on the balcony when he turns away from her instead of towards her before offering his advice. Jayce is very touchy-feely, he always offers physical comfort to his loved ones. But there, he deliberately turns away instead of taking her in his arms and comforting her. Again: it's over between them. But he still respects her. So he reminds her of how indomitable she is, along with offering the slight backhanded compliment born of his distrust for her: she's never the passenger, she is always the one in control. He knows, because he's realized she used to control him.
I've mentioned in other meta that this season deals in a lot of comeuppance for events in S1, and this is arguably Mel's. She'll be ok, she's got magical sun powers and she's the head of a powerful house now. But she doesn't get to keep Jayce in her life as her lover anymore after what she did, because she did manipulate him, even if she had good intentions mixed with the self-interested ones.
The trust is simply gone now. But he cares for her and wishes her well, so, I'd argue they parted on as good of terms as could be done.
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mellifluouaamor · 11 months ago
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MASH BURNEDEAD, FINN AMES, LANCE CROWN, DOT BARRETT, RAYNE AMES, ABEL WALKER, ABYSS RAZOR, WIRTH MADL, CARPACCIO LUO-YANG, ORTER MADL (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER
synopsis. his reaction to you asking him, “what if i suddenly disappeared one day?”
author's note. reader's relationship with the boys is up to your interpretation! but reader is implied to be orter's betrothed here c;
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as a blank look crosses his face, MASH almost drops the cream puff he was eating upon registering your question. he stops for a moment to think what exactly made you ask him that, but when he can't come up with any reason he decides to ask you a question of his own. "did something happen?"
when you don't answer him, he clenches a fist beside his head. someone must be threatening you - why else would you ask him that out of nowhere? "tell me his name. i'll punch the stuffing out of him so he doesn't bother you again."
mash is puzzled when you wave your hands around frantically, claiming that nobody is bothering you. "i was just curious!" you exclaim, "don't think about it too deeply. i just wanna know how you'd feel and what you'd do if it happens."
he hums thoughtfully as he continues eating his cream puff. the thought of you suddenly disappearing makes his chest feel heavy. losing you is like losing his pops - but ten times worse. he visibly deflates and stops eating, which worries you. when you place a hand on his shoulder, mash grabs that same hand and pulls you towards him.
"if you suddenly disappeared one day... i'll be sad. but i'll find you," he says, cupping your cheek which grows warm under his touch, "and i'll keep trying until i do."
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FINN would stare at you like you've just told the entire world his deepest and darkest secret. a few seconds pass, and the freckled first-year then clings to your sleeve as if he's a child about to be left behind by his mother. "wh-what? why would you ask that? where would you go? why would you go? is... is everything okay...?"
you could tell that he's becoming more anxious with every second that ticks by from the way he's clenching his fists against your robe. you reassure him that everything is okay and he relaxes a little, but he's still bothered by your question.
"then why are you asking me...?" he asks, trailing off. he's starting to think that you're actually hiding something from him and becomes jittery again. he grips your arm tightly, afraid that you'll disappear into thin air if he doesn't, and you wince; you swear that he's cutting off the blood circulation in your arm.
when you tell him that you're only asking for fun, that does little to ease his nerves. "but i can't get it out of my head! i'm scared- i don't want you to disappear without a trace!"
for the next few days, finn would become extra clingy and glue himself to your side whenever he can. lance and dot would cast judging looks his way, but he couldn't care less. as long as he's with you, there's no way you'd suddenly disappear, right?
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LANCE rolls his eyes at your question. "like that'll ever happen. you don't even know how to cast the transportation spell properly." despite his words, he's a bit concerned that something might be happening to you behind his back or you're sick, and you're not telling him about it.
"oh come on, you know that's not what i meant!" you exclaim, "just answer my question!" he lets out a quiet sigh. folding his arms over his chest, he stares straight ahead and thinks about what he'd do if you were suddenly gone from the academy one day.
"there's not much to do except to ask your friends and teachers where you went. if they don't know, then i'll search for you myself." there's a pause, and you tilt your head curiously as he looks down, his bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. "i'll keep looking until i find you." after that, lance doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day.
the following morning, your friends tell you that lance was borderline interrogating them about your private life last night, making you internally question his intentions. you can feel someone's gaze on your back as you go about your day, making you scared of the prospect of someone stalking you.
you also notice that lance has been overly attentive towards your activities over the course of the week, asking questions such as, "where's your next class? which friend are you going to sit with? what class do you have after that?"
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DOT doesn't think much about it at first and just laughs. "disappear? where are you even planning to go?" with a beam, he slings an arm over your shoulder. "don't think of going anywhere without me! wherever you go, i'll follow!"
you laugh along, unable to continue the conversation with how much of a cheery fellow he is.
later on, dot's mind would drift back to your question. he knits his eyebrows together, wondering why you would even ask him that. is someone bullying you? or maybe... he stands up abruptly and slams his hands on his desk, disrupting the class as he shouts, "I OFFENDED THEM WITHOUT KNOWING?!"
even when he's told to stand outside of the classroom until the class ends as punishment, he couldn't stop thinking about it. he's itching to barge into your classroom to ask you, but holds himself back from getting into further trouble.
during one of your breaks, dot would pull you aside and hold your shoulders firmly as he stares into your wide eyes. "look, i'm sorry for whatever i did. i'll apologise a thousand times if i have to," he says, and after a brief pause he adds, "just don't go anywhere i can't follow."
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RAYNE is immediately alarmed by your question, and he turns to face you with his usual frown deepening. he then grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving and asks, "what do you mean? spit it out. what happened?"
he won't let you go until you tell him everything. he doesn't even bother hiding the fact that he's worried, and the worst case scenario keeps surfacing in his mind. this is why he didn't want people knowing that you're close to him; you might be used against him, or even worse, hurt because of him.
"please, (y/n). tell me if something's wrong," he implores. he can't bear the thought you disappearing right before his eyes, and he really thinks that your life is in danger. even when you say that you're asking the question in a general sense, he's not about to take any chances.
rayne would ask max to look after you in his place and to keep tabs on your activities, as well as the people you'd frequently interact with. max thinks that he's overthinking but does it all anyway because he understands rayne's concern for your safety and well-being.
rayne would also make an effort to spend more time with you outside of classes so that he can guard you himself. you'll have to give him plenty of reassurance to convince him that nobody is out to get you.
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ABEL drops his doll; that's how shocked he feels when you asked him that haunting question. why would you ask him that, knowing that he had lost his mother when he was a child? do you want to torture him by disappearing without a single trace of your existence?
you immediately regret asking him that and try to apologise. before any words could leave your mouth, abel pulls you into a tight hug with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other around your shoulders. his gesture catches you off-guard, rendering you speechless.
"please don't," he whispers, "i feel the safest with you. if anyone or anything tries to take you from my side, i swear i'll take you back." without you, abel would truly be a lost child searching endlessly for the warmth that had left him.
the following day, you'd find abel and abyss as your scary dog privilege on campus.
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"... are you actually scared of me?" ABYSS gives you a melancholy smile as he asks you a question of his own. he had always dreaded the day that you would admit your fear of him because of his evil eye; although he knew that you would never leave him simply because of that, he still can't help but be scared of the slightest possibility that you might.
he slowly reaches for your face and gingerly cups your cheek, as if he's scared that you might reject him and pull away from his touch. he lets out the bated breath he didn't know he had been holding when you don't, and caresses the soft skin with his thumb.
"i know it's selfish of me to say this... but please don't leave me. you're all that i have, and life is only worth fighting for when you're there," he admits. abyss had a rough past where he was unloved even by his own parents, so when you approached him with a smile that shines like the light of dawn, he found himself unable to let go of your outstretched hand.
however, if the situation ever calls for it, he's willing to learn to let go. "if there ever comes a time when you're no longer by my side... then i'll accept it. but if anyone tries to take you against your will..." there's a pause as his left eye glints. "then i'll make sure that they're the ones who disappear."
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WIRTH lets out a loud laugh before leaning towards your face with a smirk. "And who would dare to take you away from me?" he'll gladly challenge anyone who attempts to do so, and he's confident that he'll win. "you've always been bad at hide and seek too, so how would you even hide from me?"
"just answer the damn question," you say with a huff, "it's not that deep. it's only a 'what if'." propping his chin on the palm of his hand, he mulls over what you had asked. if you disappeared because someone took you away...
"well, i'll simply find you and make the perpetrator suffer," he replies, "by the time i notice your disappearance, you wouldn't have gone far anyway." then, there's a long, awkward pause as wirth averts his gaze, like he wants to say something else but is reluctant to.
after a moment, he adds in a more serious tone, "if you need any protection, don't hesitate to find me. i promise i'll keep you safe." you can't help but feel a bit shy hearing those words come from him.
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CARPACCIO is eerily silent. he doesn't even look at you. he could only try to think of what his life would be like in your absence… and decides that he doesn't want to consider the possibility.
"disappear where?" he asks as he finally meets your nervous gaze, "would you disappear unwillingly? or of your own accord?" cupping his chin, he thinks about your question more thoroughly and tries to apply it in the different situations he could come up with.
"if you were taken against your will, then the most logical thing to do is rescue you," he answers, spinning his knife around his fingers, "and of course, i'll make sure that whoever kidnapped you will be in so much pain that they wish they're dead." a slight shiver went down your spine; you could actually see carpaccio doing that.
"but if you left on your own, then..." carpaccio trails off for a moment, unsure of how to vocalise his thoughts. "... i'd still find you, i guess. and try to figure out why you left."
carpaccio knows that the question you asked is merely hypothetical... but he can't stop himself from thinking that he may have done something to make you consider disappearing from his life. he'd try to figure out what instigated those thoughts of yours before finally asking you.
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"i have ways of looking for missing people. just finding you would be child's play," ORTER answers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "is that all you'd like to discuss with me? please stop wasting my time with your nonsensical questions. if you're that unhappy with our engagement, take it up with my father."
he doesn't want to admit it, but he's actually thinking about your question far too much to the point that it's affecting his daily life. he gets visibly agitated whenever he's not in your presence, which doesn't go unnoticed by kaldo, who proceeds to tease him. "what got you so nervous, hm? worried that your future spouse won't be happy with you once you're married?"
if renatus happens to be passing by, he'd join in by saying, "he brought it upon himself. who asked him to be an ass fiance? i wouldn't be surprised if they plan on disappearing from his sight."
renatus' words would get orter thinking. after pondering your question more, he'd come to the conclusion that you feel neglected and are planning to leave him soon. the mere thought makes his chest feel painfully tight, and he'd drop whatever he's doing to search for you.
the longer he takes to find you, the more anxious he feels inside. the moment he sees you, he'd grab your shoulder and roughly turn you around to confirm that it's really you. you're surprised to see the dread on his countenance, which gradually dissipates once he's sure that he has found you.
there's a flash of guilt in his eyes, and as he gently takes your hand in his, he quietly says, "i'm sorry. please... don't ever leave my side."
(you can read kaldo's part here)
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gothamhappiness · 6 months ago
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You are my heaven 3 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)
It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)
My masterlist is here.
Part 1 // Part 2
Warnings: no proof reading, stressed out neglect!Bruce, mentions of dead characters, jealousy and all kind of bad feelings, language
This was Hell. It had to be a nightmare, right? It couldn’t be the reality. It couldn’t be the truth. Someone was toying with him, torturing him even. It had to be an illusion of some sort. Or maybe he was stuck in the darkest part of this mind, full of his worst fears.
No child, no wife, no Alfred, no Justice League, no good day, no good night. 
Gotham wasn’t usually funny, but this was pure punishment.
At first, Bruce thought that the worst part was how awful the business was with Wayne Enterprises; there was so much work to take care of, all the time, and no one he felt like he could trust. 
Then he realised how empty his manor was. It was dark and quiet. It was making him want to throw up because of how tight it was making his chest and stomach. He couldn’t stand this utter silence. He couldn’t stand to not be able to play the annoyed mentor with his children and the good husband to you.
Not even having Alfred was a punishment, a torture, a cruel life. How was he supposed to care about everything without Alfred? How was he supposed to stay sane without the man who raised him? How was he supposed to survive without him? 
He so deeply missed the children. He tried to find them, but they were in prison, dead or gone from Gotham: Dick was a police officer who died during a mission, Jason was in prison, Tim died in his parents' accident, Stephanie had left Gotham forever, Cassandra killed herself to not be a killer anymore, Duke died as he looked for the Joker, Damian didn’t exist.
And Barbara looked so happy, Bruce didn’t even dare going to talk to her. And when he passed by her, hoping she would talk to him, she just seemed surprised to see Bruce Wayne in her local library. All the people he knew didn’t know him anymore or weren’t there to know him or to care about him.
In some desperate attempt, he looked for Talia, but the league of assassins simply kicked his ass for having tried and reached for her. They weren’t interested in him, merely wondering how he knew about them. He almost got killed that night, but he found a way out, like he always did.
Except he didn’t seem to be able to find a way out from this Hell.
The worst part was definitely your absence. He was so used to going to bed with a pretty little wife by his side. He was so used to kissing her goodnight. He was so used to her cute little whines for five minutes more of cuddles in the morning. He was so used to having his arm around her waist wherever they went. And he missed that so much. He wanted you so badly. He needed you so badly.
Fuck, he promised himself to not ditch any more dates with you once he would be back to what reality was supposed to be. He would take such good care of you. He would make you forget about the divorce papers and not just by saying to Alfred “She had a good life here and she loves the children, so she’ll stay”. No, he would make sure you actually wanted to stay. With him. With your husband.
He needed to find you in this world. Maybe you could help him, at least to not completely go insane.
He quickly found you, and for a brief instant, he was so relieved that you seemed to know him. You clearly weren’t his wife since you didn’t even live in the manor, but thank god he hoped you were his girlfriend. But your coldness hurt him more than he would ever admit it.
“What do you want, Bruce?” you groaned when you saw him at your door
“Just wanted to check on you” the man tried to smile
“Look, I’ve already told you that I’m not interested. You creep me out, man. And it’s not because the cops won’t do anything if I call them, that you can keep going here. So please, stay away from me and stop sending me gifts that I need to send you back. We’re not a thing, and we’ll never be” you told him before closing your door.
Bruce knew he was going to lose it.
He started to try and recall what happened the night before everything changed so drastically in his life. He slowly remembered this mission with the mad scientist. He remembered the light he saw right after he was going to sleep by your side. He was feeling so weak and strange then. Something happened then.
He needed to find the man. When he did, the scientist was actually a teacher in the University of Gotham, who was talking about the possibilities of parallel universes. It was how Bruce finally understood what happened. It wasn’t his reality. It wasn't an illusion. It was another world.
For a very brief instant, he felt very bad for the version of himself who had to deal with this world and this constant loneliness. But he couldn’t care. He wanted to get back home, surrounded by his people and their attention. He was relieved in a way because now he knew how to escape from this place.
He worked hard for several months. He showed a very dark version of himself, as he was forcing the scientist to find a way to send him back. He was slowly losing himself. He needed to come back home soon, or he would start to actually kill; why would he care about crossing the lines in a world that wasn’t his? In a city that didn’t like him anyway? In a life where no one loved him?
The media were commenting on how ruthless Batman was lately. Bruce couldn’t help it. He was feeling so bad. And there was this nasty little voice inside his head telling him over and over again that “Maybe no one realised you were gone. Maybe no one wants you back. Maybe that’s why you’re still there months after. Another man is fucking your wife, another man is talking to your children and to Alfred, another man is leading WE and the Justice League. And they all don’t care. Worst, they like him better”
The scientist wasn’t obsessed with the idea of getting rid of Batman so he thought about things quite differently. He found a way to send Bruce back to his world but he didn’t switch places. So when Bruce arrived where he was supposed to be, he was quite shocked to see another him.
What was worse was that you were by his side, laughing at something the man murmured to you. His arm was wrapped around your waist. It was then that your husband noticed how round your belly was. You were pregnant. You were heavily pregnant. There was no way it was actually his child. It had to be his. Didn’t you notice it wasn’t your husband who was making love to you? Or did you want it? Him?
The sole idea was driving him crazy with pain and raw jealousy. The jealousy that the Bruce of the other world felt when he first arrived in this world, the “real” Bruce” felt it too. His life has been stolen away from him, and he needed to get it back. 
It drove him even crazier when he saw how his children acted around the stranger. How could they all seem so happy around him? He hoped that no one understood what happened. He hoped that you all thought it was him.
He didn’t know what to do though. He couldn’t come back to the manor, he couldn’t show his face, so he hid in the dark for a little while. He kept stalking all of you, getting sick in the stomach each time he saw his children or you or the Justice League with his other self. Everyone seemed to do so much better.
Or maybe it was just his paranoia and the mean voices inside his head that wanted to make him believe that you all loved this other Bruce better than him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the child you were carrying. He had wanted that too, but you never seemed ready.
And now…
Now he needed to find you.
--
Part 4
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Taglist for all my work <3
@blublock404
@wind-canoe
Taglist for this series <3 (you’re my heaven)
@bat1212
@karakento
@kneelforloki
Thanks for the ideas <3
@motherofdragons1998
@silverklaus
@optimisticmoonunknown
@kazuko-stuff
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roseghoul26 · 10 months ago
Note
Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!
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If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.
But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 
It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 
Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 
In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 
Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 
A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 
“The fuck you doin’?” 
“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 
He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 
You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 
Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 
There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 
Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”
You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”
You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.
The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 
In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 
Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 
Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 
You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 
The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 
Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 
It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 
He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”
You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.
You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 
“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 
“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 
Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 
It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 
Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 
It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”
You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”
He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.
“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 
“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”
See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 
You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 
And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.
“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.
“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 
“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 
He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”
It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke
“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”
You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 
“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.
He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 
Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 
It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 
Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 
Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 
He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”
“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”
“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 
“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”
“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”
“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”
“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 
“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”
“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”
“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”
“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”
His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”
“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”
There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”
The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”
He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 
“You don’t have to-”
“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 
“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 
He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 
Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”
“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”
You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”
“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”
“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  
He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.
“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.
“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”
“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”
“That’s two questions.”
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”
“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”
“Do you regret it?”
“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.
“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 
“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”
It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 
You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”
“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 
His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”
“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”
If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”
“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”
“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 
“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 
You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”
When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 
“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.
“So no sex then?”
Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.
“So you’ve never-”
“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.
“Not even after you left?”
“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 
“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”
“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.
He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”
Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 
In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 
“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 
“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 
It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”
Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.
You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”
“Deal.” 
You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 
Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 
Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 
Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 
An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 
“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 
“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 
Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 
“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 
You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 
When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.
His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 
Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 
“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 
“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”
When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”
“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”
“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.
He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.
It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 
But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.
He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.
With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.
He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 
But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 
You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.
His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  
You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”
Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 
The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 
They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 
You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 
Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.
You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.
He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”
“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 
“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”
Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 
Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.
His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 
Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 
You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 
“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 
For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 
It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 
“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 
But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.
“You close?” 
“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 
“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.
You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.
That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 
His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 
An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 
“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 
“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 
Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 
You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 
When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 
With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 
The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 
For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.
And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 
“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”
Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”
Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”
You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.
“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”
As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 
One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 
Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 
All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.
You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.
You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 
That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 
You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 
“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 
“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”
You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 
You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”
His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.
You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”
Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 
He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 
Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 
Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 
Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 
He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 
You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 
He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 
When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 
You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.
The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 
When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.
“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.
“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 
With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 
You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”
He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 
It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”
He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”
You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”
“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”
You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 
“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 
“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”
Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”
“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”
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crowsofdarkness · 1 month ago
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Soldat: Chapter One
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-gif not mine. credit to owner-
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader
Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.
Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?
Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!
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A soft breeze came through the curtains in my living room as my eyes scanned the same sentence in the book that was placed in my lap. The sentence that I had reread four times now. Closing the book with a groan, I set it on the other end of the couch and grabbed my phone from the coffee table in front of me. 
No new messages. 
I pocketed my phone while pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Worry etched in my bones as I realized that I hadn’t heard from Steve in over 48 hours. He never went that long without sending some kind of message back to me. It was supposed to be a simple “save the hostages from a ship in the middle of the ocean. It’ll take a day tops.” Steve words. So here I was, two days later wondering what the hell went wrong. 
“Stupid ankle,” I cursed my sprained ankle as it was the reason I couldn’t go on the current mission. 
I had tweaked it a few weeks back and Steve wanted to make sure it was 100% before going back in the field. No matter how hard I tried to convince him I was fine, Steve could tell in the small limp that I was lying. 
I’d been on Team Captain America for almost a year now, Nick recruiting me because of my background. Three years on New York Swat and almost five as a secret agent for the FBI. There was more to my past, which helped mold me into the agent I was today but that was a part of my life that I kept hidden from everyone, including Steve. There was a time in my life where I was at my lowest and darkest; however, as much as that moment in my life caused me many emotional and permanent scars, I don’t think I would be where I was today. 
My finger ran over a small scar on my wrist as I thought back to that time, years ago, and my skin quivered as those memories came back. A dark, cold room with only one bed and the looming fear of when the next time would be when I would see him; would it also be the last time? Would my end be near?
“Christ, I haven’t thought of him in years.” I shuttered, pushing those thoughts away and tried to think of Steve.
In the year that I had been working side by side with him, Steve and I had become incredibly close. Soft touches, hushed conversions just between the two of us, and stares that never went unnoticed. We weren’t official, afraid of it getting in the way of work so we would never make it past first base; hell we never even made it close to first base.
Tired eyes read the clock that hung above the fireplace and a soft sigh left my lips. Calling him would be a waste of time because I knew he never kept his phone on him while on the field, it always stayed on the jet, so I decided to send him a text. 
I should have figured it would take you longer than a day without me.-Y/N. 
I didn’t even have a chance to set my phone down because a few seconds later it was buzzing and Steve’s face appeared on my screen, indicating he was face timing me. 
“Thank god I actually look somewhat decent,” I muttered before hitting the green button, accepting the call. 
Steve’s bright smile warmed my heart as I took in his appearance. Soot covered his forehead and chin, his typically styled hair was a mess, almost falling in his eyes as those tired blue eyes stared at me. 
“Hi,” I breathed. 
“Hey yourself. What time is it there?” Steve questioned. 
I looked at the clock before my gaze rested back on Steve. “Just past 6 in the morning. How’d the mission go?” 
Steve leaned back in the chair of the jet and ran a hand over his face, unbeknownst to him smearing the soot over his face. I suppressed a giggle, not wanting to let him know. 
“You’re cleared to go back on duty. Starting three days ago.” 
“I told you! We could have been finished days ago and you wouldn’t have needed me to water your plants.” I joked.
Steve shot up. “You have been watering them, right?” 
The seriousness in his voice made me roll my eyes. 
“Oh my god, grandpa. Yes, I did water your plants. You know, I forget that you’re 95 years old then you act like that and suddenly it all comes back.” I said with a small smile. 
“You love me,” Steve gave me a smug smile. 
My heart flipped. You have no idea. 
“So when are you going to be back?” I changed the subject. 
“The jet is landing at SHIELD in a few hours. I have to do a few errands but then I’m all yours,” the softness in his smile warmed my heart. 
“The usual?” I asked. 
“I’ve called in the pizza. It should be ready to go by seven.” 
“I’ll bring the beers then,” I smiled 
Every time we complete a mission, Steve and I would meet at his place for pizza and beers. It had been our tradition for the past year, no one else from the team joining. 
Just us. 
Steve’s lips moved as he was about to say something but a certain redhead appeared from behind him, coming into view. 
“NAT!” I yelled, “I miss you!” 
Her smile mirrored my own. 
“You are forbidden from ever taking leave again. This one almost forgot his shield.” Natasha pointed at Steve. 
“I did not!” He defended. 
“Oh Stevie, what would you do without me?” I cooed and noticed his cheeks burned red. 
We stared at each other for a few seconds and if feeling some type of tension between us, Nat shook her head before ruffling Steve’s hair. 
“You’ve got something on your face.” 
Steve looked closer into his phone and I swore, his cheeks were a deep crimson now. 
“You let me talk to you like this the entire time?” Steve questioned, quietly thanking Nat who gave him a towel. 
I shrugged. “I thought it was a cute look.” 
“Maybe if you stopped giving Y/N bedroom eyes, you would have noticed how dirty you were,” Natasha teased. 
“Nat!” I scoffed, feeling some warmth spread to my stomach. 
“What?” She shrugged, “Someone has to call him out."
Shaking my head with a laugh, I gave them a small wave goodbye and told Steve I would see him later. 
I ended the phone call with a sigh and felt excitement spread through my veins as the thought of being alone with Steve kept creeping in the back of my mind. 
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“Where the hell are you Rogers,” I grumbled as I checked my phone for the fifth time since arriving at his apartment twenty minutes ago. 
I had called and texted him wondering when he would be home but was met with silence. My fingers slid over his door frame before peaking under the doormat hoping to find a spare key but nothing. 
“You’re damn lucky you’re cute,” I cursed when I checked my phone yet again. 
“Talking to yourself?” 
Spinning on my heels towards the voice, my heart leaped when I saw Steve ascend the staircase, wearing the brown leather jacket that looked so good on him. He had the box of pizza in one hand and was messing with his keys in the other.
“I left my spare key at home. You should really leave another one somewhere.” I noted. 
“I do,” he nodded towards his neighbor across the hall, “Kate has one.” 
“Oh,” I sighed. 
As if the Gods’ wanted to torture me more with the thought of Steve’s neighbor across the hall, she came out from her apartment. Adjusting the laundry basket on her hip, she smiled towards Steve. 
Jealous eyes watched as they chatted, Steve flirting almost effortlessly with her. She giggled at a lame joke he told and I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. My shoulders slouched in anger when Steve invited her over to join us. 
“I don’t want to impose,” she looked between Steve and I. 
Steve quickly shook his head. “No, we’re just friends.” 
My heart dropped to my stomach. “Yeah, friends.” 
“Maybe next time. I’ve got a load in the wash.” 
Steve agreed the next time and I had to turn away as he hugged Kate. 
“You could have been a little nicer to her,” Steve asked as he leaned against his door. 
“I’ve been waiting almost a half hour for you. I’m tired and hungry so sorry I didn’t feel like being friendly,” I snapped but immediately apologized when I saw the hurt flash across his face. 
“It’s been a really long day,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. 
“Hey, it’s alright.” Steve pulled me into his chest and left a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was visiting a friend at the V.A center.” 
My brows rose. “The V.A center?” 
Steve nodded. “Yeah, Sam. I met him a few days ago. He’s nice, I can set you up with him if you want?” 
“No thanks,” I scrunch my face, “I can find a guy by myself.” 
“How’s that working out for you?” Steve joked. 
Scoffing, I gave him a slight push and I nodded towards the door. “My pizza is getting cold.” 
He laughed but his body froze leaning an ear against the door. 
“What?” I questioned. 
“My record player is on.” Steve glanced over to me. 
I leaned my ear against the door but shook my head, “I don’t hear anything.”
“You don’t have super soldier hearing,” Steve teased. “Did you leave it on?”
“I swear I turned it off when I left the other day.” I promised. 
Getting into Captain America mode, Steve shielded me as he slowly unlocked the door, pushing it open. I slipped my knife out of my boot as I followed close behind. The music vibrated off the walls as Steve grabbed his shield from its place on the wall. The knife flipped in my fingers with ease as we reached the living room and saw the slouched figure sitting in the chair. 
Nick Furry.
“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Steve sighed while leaning against the wall.
“Did you really think I would need one?,” Nick defended while sitting up, “My wife kicked me out.”
“I didn’t know you were married,” I admitted. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Nick admitted.
“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve declared while turning on the light.
Goosebumps pricked my skin when I took in Nick’s appearance. He had a giant gash to the side of his head and blood was dripping down onto Steve’s chair. I wanted to ask what happened but he held up a finger to silence me while he turned off the light. Nick typed a message into his phone before showing us. 
Ears everywhere.
Steve and I shared a look before our eyes glanced around the apartment. Steve tensed up next to me, the anger of being watched rose from within and he cursed under his breath. All of his private moments suddenly weren’t so private anymore. 
“I’m sorry to do this but I had no other place to crash,” Nick showed us a new message on his phone. 
Shield Compromised.
“What the fuck,” I cursed. 
“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve continued to play along, in case it was true that his apartment was bugged. 
Nick stood with a groan and limped over to us, clutching his side. “Just my friends.”
Just us. The new message on his phone read. 
Steve scoffed. “Is that what we are, Nick?” 
“Steve,” I warned, “Now isn’t the time for whatever beef you have with him.” 
“That’s up to you,” Nick admitted. 
The floor beneath our feet shook as a scream erupted from my throat when the wall behind Nick exploded in gunfire. Steve grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest as we watched in horror as Nick’s limp body fell to the ground. 
“What the fuck?!” I yelled. 
“Get away from the window!” Steve demanded, pulling Nick’s body in the hallway with us. 
He went to look out the window to see if he was able to see the shooter but Nick grasped his arm stopping him. 
He opened his hand and a hard drive sparkled from the light outside. 
“Don’t. Trust. Anyone.” Nick sputtered before passing out. 
“Steve, what the hell is going on?” My voice quivered with fear. 
Before Steve could answer, his front door busted open and Kate walked in, gun armed and aimed. 
“Captain Rogers, I’m Agent 13, Shield Special Service.” Kate said, walking further into Steve’s apartment. 
“Kate? What the hell are you doing here?” I questioned. 
“I’ve been assigned to protect Steve,” She defended. 
“On whose order?” Steve snapped. 
Kate set her gun down before nodding towards Nick. “His.” 
Steve and I shared a look and giving him a slight nod, I turned my attention towards Kate. “You should call it in, Agent.”
“Foxtrot is down and unresponsive. I need EMT’S.” Kate ignored me as she talked into the radio. 
“Do we have a twenty on the shooter?”
Steve peaked around the corner and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him. “Tell them we’re in pursuit.” 
Not asking any questions, I let Steve wrap his arm around my waist as we ran through the window, literally, and felt the ground vanish beneath our feet. Glass shattered around us as we landed hard on the floor of the building across the street. 
“Ow, that’s gonna leave a mark,” I groaned, rising to my feet taking off in a chase after the shooter.
Steve was just a few paces ahead of me while the shooter was on the roof above us, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty offices. Steve busted through doors and glass windows, making it easier for me to keep up with him.
“There has to be a staircase to the roof somewhere!” I yelled before I watched through the window in front of us as the shooter jumped down onto the roof of the building in front.
“We’re going through the window, aren't we?” I semi whined. 
“Yup!” 
Suddenly, Steve barreled his way through the window rolling onto his knees and threw his shield at the shooter. The broken glass crunched beneath my boots as I came to a sudden halt when my eyes landed on the man who had caught Captain America’s shield mid throw. 
Long brown locks. 
Blue eyes. 
A metal arm. 
My mouth ran dry while my hands shook, unable to move out of the way as the shield came flying back towards me. Ears rang in silence as the blood drained from my face, memories of that same metal arm slamming into me like a brick wall. The same man that I thought of earlier for the first time in years was standing right in front of me, in the flesh. 
“Y/N!” 
Steve’s voice brought me back as I fell to the ground with his body on mine. With the shield gripped tight in one hand, his other gently cupped my cheek. Steve pulled my face to look into his eyes; however, I couldn’t focus. I ignored the feeling that took over my body when Steve pressed his hips into mine, unknowingly, and licked my dry lips. 
My past life had just barreled into me; a private part of my life that absolutely no one knew about and suddenly, I was very terrified of them finding out. 
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midnite-c6 · 1 month ago
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After reading ur patient!namgyu fanfic I was just wondering if you could pretty please w a cherry on top write a fic about Seowan !! Doesnt have to be doctor x patient, I just need more fics w my beloved Seowan 🔥🔥 have a great day/noon/night!
i haven't seen any fics about seo-wan, it makes me so sad, but here's oneDJFH also, i added squid game tags because i want more nam-gyu lovers to see roh jaewon's character in daily dose of sunshine!! FIRST NON SQUIDGAME FIC .. my fav schizo TT.
kim seo-wan x reader !! <3 warnings: fluff , angst ?! , mentions of mental illness </3
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つ⁠。⁠☆ he's your study buddy!! both of you couldn't pass the exams the first time and you guys bonded over that. the two of you would sit next to each other when the professors lecturing about a lesson, since you both share the interest of being determined in passing the exams this year, there wouldn't be alot of talking during a lecture, but afterwards he's actually quite talkative!
he would also share his notes, giving you a bunch of sticky notes, all of them would have silly random doodles and small comments about how "you can do it!"
you manage to even hang out with him after classes ..which still includes studying, but you told him he needs to let lose, even for a little while. eating noodles in those small shops on the sidewalk, visiting libraries, and if you feel like your falling behind in studies, he would share the other side of his headset, making you listen to the lecture he found on youtube.
a new store would open up right next to the university, because the lessons were tiring and obsessing over the tests is unhealthy, the two of you decide to explore. it was actually a computer-shop.
since then, it's been you and seo-wan's new hobby, to play videogames for hours after lectures, how you were practically his pocket healer, how you two can't play alone without the other right by their side.
this newly-shared interest has gotten you two alot closer, you'd even ask him out, gratefully, the feelings are mutual, kim seo-wan is a simple man. now there'd be long sessions of kissing inside his small apartment, cosplaying, the two of you didn't have alot of money, but this was enough.
video games became a part of your life, one to escape reality. but unfortunately, this hit a little bit harder for kim seo-wan. you'd notice how he wouldn't take the time to study anymore. of course, as the concerned lover you are, you would remind him all the time, but he just wouldn't budge.
his parents were nice, they'd always treat you like you were family, even cooking dinner or lunch for you whenever you come over. since you haven't seen seo-wan in awhile, you'd ask them, only to find out your boyfriend has been sent to a psychiatric unit.
you would visit him everyday, telling him about your day, and asking about his. his day was filled with thinking of you, playing ping-pong with the other patients, and this fantasy world he lives in. but whenever you were too busy to visit, he'd be extra depressed inside the hospital and says he has ran out of mana. </3
you were always intrigued whenever he would tell you about his visions. his stories contain that you were truly his 'mediator', and that you're there in his life to save him. "this is very unprofessional, oh my dear.. mediator, but i'm inlove with you, for you make me look forward to explore even the darkest caves or the highest mountains." he'd take your hand to place a soft kiss on-top. he had forgotten your previous relationship before, atleast he still loves you in the new world he's living in.
you'd end up taking the test without him, but you'd never talk about it in the hospital, you know he needs more time.
in the end, you two agree upon each other to fight the fire dragon together, whatever the future may hold. because, as he confidentally says: "once i've saved up enough mana and leveled up all my armor, i choose you to come with me. you're the only one i can trust in defeating the fire dragon. i will protect you with all my life, my dear mediator!"
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i'm sobbing just thinking about this bye ☹️☹️☹️ was gonna do nsfw parts too as i usually do but like i was too up in my feelings LMAOFHBRK trust im gonna post sum nsfw story next 🤞🏻
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jensengirl83 · 3 months ago
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Pining In The Pines
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Dean x reader
Word count-3843
Warnings- Angst, some fluff
Summary- Y/N and the boys have to go on a hunt in her old hometown. She's not happy to go home, and especially not when Dean makes a comment that brings up bad memories. How will she take it? And will Dean be able to make it right?
A/N- This fills my Secret Passageway square for @jacklesversebingo
First, I suck at summaries 😂 Second, this fic is a little self-indulgent. I've written it about where I'm actually from and the stigma about the people in this area. I really hope you like it!
“So, get this,” Sam started the conversation as he looked at his laptop. 
Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled in her chest. It never failed. When he found a hunt, the first words out of his mouth were, ‘So, get this.’ That’s how she and Dean knew to stop and pay attention. He had something they needed to hear. So, she tried to contain her laughter and give Sam the attention he wanted. 
“Y/N…Do you have to laugh every single time?” Sam groaned but didn’t wait for a response, continuing with what he wanted to say, “There’s supposedly been a Wendigo spotted in Morehead, Kentucky. Homeowners caught it on their security camera for their driveway.”
“Morehead…Isn’t that close to where you grew up, sweetheart?” Dean wondered, looking over at the huntress beside him. 
“It’s a few counties over, but yeah, it’s close enough. Did you say there was footage?” she questioned, leaning forward to look at Sam’s laptop as he spun it around for her and Dean to see. 
Her breath caught in her throat as Dean put his hand on her lower back as he leaned forward to watch the video. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had fallen in love with the eldest Winchester. But how was she supposed to be around him, living in the bunker with him, and not fall head over heels? 
It was true that he had a temper, could be a real grump, and be downright mean sometimes. But, over the years, she’d learned that his temper flared most when someone he cared about was in danger. He would be grumpy when the weight of the world had gotten almost too heavy to bear, and he tried to push it down and keep it bottled up. He was mean when he thought he needed to push someone he cared about away because he was the one putting them in danger. To her, that was just the sign of a man who had been hurt, a man who loved deeply, one who cared so much that the thought of losing someone he loved was unbearable. So, how was she not going to fall for him at some point? 
But that’s as far as it went. She would never admit her feelings. She couldn’t. The likely rejection would be her end, and she would have to leave the bunker. She’d rather pine for him in tortuous silence than not have him in her life at all. So, as always, she shoved her feelings back down, focusing on the screen in front of her, and prepared for the hunt she knew was coming. 
“Earth to Y/N,” Dean nudged her, clearly seeing she was in her own little world. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m watching,” she rolled her eyes, trying to hide that she was fantasizing about the green-eyed Adonis. 
“Where was that pretty little head of yours?” he teased, his words making her heart ache. If only he really thought that way. 
“Just thinking of what I’ll need to pack. ‘Cause we’re clearly going to Kentucky, am I right?” she lied, hoping they would buy it. 
“Yeah, we have to check this out. I’ve never heard of a Wendigo this far east before,” Sam answered, getting Dean’s attention away from her. Thank Chuck. 
“There’s a lot of things in the Appalachian mountains that no one knows about. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught in those woods alone after dark,” she shivered at the thought. 
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?” Dean tried to tease, but she gave him a stern look that made him think twice. 
“You should know that I’m not scared of the dark. I follow you into some of the darkest, creepiest places on earth. But, I grew up there, Dean. It’s not even just the monsters you have to worry about. I mean, there are bears, mountain lions, wolves…” she trailed off, not wanting to mention some of the crazy people that live in those mountains. 
“Okay, okay,” Dean huffed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “I get it.” 
“You better. You have to keep your head on a swivel while we’re in the woods. I’d hate to have to save your sorry ass from the real-life Yogi Bear,” she winked, “Because your ass will be the picnic basket.” 
Dean crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed at her sarcasm as Sam laughed. Even though she was crazy in love with him, she could give him shit right back. And to be honest, she thoroughly enjoyed frustrating him. As she saw it, it was payback for him making her love him in the first place. She continued to chuckle as she went to her room to pack. Y/N didn’t like the thought of going home. Too many memories she’d like to forget. But duty calls, so she was packing her bags for the long drive to southeast Kentucky. 
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I highly doubt there’s a Wendigo here. They don’t stay in the wide-open woods,” Dean complained while trekking through the mountains. 
“Dean, do you not know anything about the topography of Kentucky?” Y/N asked, shaking her head in annoyance. He’d been in a mood all day. 
“Yes, sweetheart. I spend all my free time studying the layout of a state I rarely ever visit,” his sarcasm made her want to smack him in the head. 
“Well, dear,” she said just as sarcastically, “Kentucky is known for its underground cave systems. You know, Mammoth Cave. One of the biggest cave systems in the world…”  
“Of course! Because spelunking is high on my to-do list!” 
“Oh! Look at him, Sam. He’s using big boy words like spelunking. I’m so proud of you, Dean!” she half shouted at him. Trying to keep her voice down so as not to attract unwanted attention to whatever was out there. 
“Guys! Knock it off. We’re here to kill a Wendigo. Not for you two to kill each other!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. 
“She started it,” Dean whined, acting like a child. 
“Fuck off, Dean,” she growled as she walked ahead of them. Leading them to the caves she knew were close. 
Y/N ignored the bickering between the brothers behind her as she made her way through the trees. She loved Dean, but today, she thought about leaving him in one of the caves they found. He’d been an ass since they woke up at the motel, and she couldn’t figure out what had his boxers in a bunch. They’d had to share a bed, but she didn’t think he’d be that pissed about that, but she wouldn’t put anything past him at that point. But, whatever it was, it tempted her to make him Wendigo lunch. 
“Slow down, Y/N. We’re not born and raised hillbillies like you are. It’s taking us a little longer to navigate this hellscape,” Dean yelled, grumbling under his breath about her getting too far ahead. 
Y/N froze. That was the last straw. Yes, she’d been born and raised in the area, but that word…Hillbilly. She’d been trying to get rid of that stigma since she left the mountains, and now hearing Dean, the man she loved, call her that derogatory term was too much to take. 
“Let me tell you something, asshole! Yeah, I grew up here, but I’m not a fucking hillbilly! I’ll have you know not everyone who lives in Appalachia are backwoods, uneducated, rednecks! So, take that term, and shove it straight up your ass!” she screamed, her anger boiling over into dangerous territory. 
Before either of the boys could say a word, a guttural, terrifying growl tore through the darkening woods. Y/N spun around to see what they’d been there to find. The Wendgio was only about thirty feet behind her, moving in quickly. Sam shouted for her to get behind him, breaking her out of her stupor. Once she’d cleared his line of sight, Sam grabbed his homemade flamethrower, flicking his lighter to ignite it, but nothing happened. He tried again but to no avail. Y/N’s screams tore through the night air…
“Run! Follow me!” 
The boys were quick at her heels as she weaved them in and out of the trees and underbrush. Dean couldn’t help but think about how impressed he was at her agility in that terrain. He could tell she’d grown up here and knew her way around, which brought him to his next thought. How guilty he felt for saying what he had. But now was not the time to apologize. Right now, he had to concentrate on not losing sight of her and getting shredded to pieces by the monster on their tails.  
“Here! Guys, hurry!” she shouted, an old moonshining cabin in her sight. 
Once she reached the cabin, she flung open the door, waiting for the boys to enter before slamming it shut, silently praying that the rickety lock would hold just long enough to devise a plan. 
“What the hell happened back there?” Dean asked, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. 
“I don’t know! The flamethrower has never not worked before,” Sam answered with the same labored breathing as his brother. 
“Well, we can figure that out later. Now, we need to figure out how to stay alive!” Y/N yelled, panic starting to set in. 
“Calm down, sweetheart. We’ll be okay,” Dean tried to calm her down, but she was still too angry with him. 
“Don’t! Do not ‘sweetheart’ me! You had no right to talk to me like that!” 
“Look, swe- Y/N, I’m sorry. But I don’t understand why that made you so mad,” Dean spoke as he looked around the cabin for something to use as a makeshift weapon. 
“That was a shit apology, Winchester. Just…just don’t speak to me until we get out of this mess,” she groaned, then mumbled, “If we live through this mess.” 
“Hey!” Dean shouted, getting her attention, “We are getting out of this. Don’t talk like that.” 
“Can you tell me how you plan to get us out of here? Cause I don’t see another way out except through the door that Wendigo is now trying to beat down!” 
As she walked toward Dean, her foot almost went through the floor, or at least it felt like it. She stopped, pushing down with her foot one more time. The bounce under her foot had her laughing loudly, and the boys looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Dean spoke as she started to rip the rug she stood on out of the way. 
“Care to tell us what you find so funny?” 
“This!” she continued to laugh in relief as she pointed to the hatch in the floor where she’d been standing, “It’s our way out!” 
“How do you know that? It could be just an old cellar,” Sam asked, walking over to inspect what she’d found. 
“Well, as Dean so nicely put it, us hillbillies would dig secret passageways to transport the moonshine back and forth without the police seeing them. They almost always lead to an abandoned coal mine or cave opening. Sometimes other cabins.” 
“Y/N, come on, I tried to apologize. I didn’t know it would upset you that much,” Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. 
“Well, it did, and…” she started to argue when Sam interrupted them. 
“Maybe you two can finish this fight once we know we’re not going to die? Let’s go!” 
Y/N and Dean simultaneously rolled their eyes. Sam would have told them they were two peas in a pod if they weren’t in such a hurry to save their asses. Y/N was the first one down the ladder, explaining that she’d be their best bet for not getting completely lost underground, and neither brother disagreed. Dean followed, with Sam on his heels. Once they were underground, Y/N led the way, and the boys were impressed with how well she could get around in the tunnels. 
After what seemed like a lifetime, Dean was going to ask if she really knew where she was going, but before he could open his mouth, they turned a corner and could see a light up ahead in the tunnel's ceiling. Y/N was climbing the ladder through another hatch before Dean knew what was happening. Maybe her nickname should be Squirrel instead of him, he chuckled to himself. As the last brother made it out of the tunnel and into another cabin, Y/N slammed the hatch, pushing an old, heavy piece of furniture over it. Luckily, this one was still quite furnished, with beds still in the bedrooms and an old couch in front of a fireplace. 
“This is home until morning,” she stated, looking around, finding, albeit dusty, pillows and blankets in a closet.
“Better than nothing,” Sam shrugged, walking into one of the bedrooms and shutting the door, leaving only one bedroom for her and Dean. 
“Looks like we’re sharing again, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. 
“Nah, take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” she whispered, not looking at him. Damn, she was still mad. 
“I’m not taking a bed and putting you on an old debilitated couch, Y/N.” 
“It’s fine. My adrenaline is still too high to sleep. Besides, I’ll keep watch so you can get some rest. You have to drive us back to the bunker tomorrow. I can sleep in the car.” 
“Y/N…” 
“No, Dean, it’s fine. Please, just take the bed. I’m too tired to argue,” she almost begged, wanting to be alone. 
“I thought you said you weren’t tired?” he smirked, trying to joke, but she wasn’t having it. 
“I’m mentally exhausted. I just need time to myself to wind down. Now, please, go get some sleep so we can get the hell out of here in the morning,” she pleaded, the look on her face breaking his heart. He had really hurt her with what he said. 
“Okay, sweetheart. Good night,” he said dejectedly, knowing it would be a sleepless night. His guilt would make sure of it. 
“Night,” she replied, turning her back to him, sitting down on the couch, staring out the window, never glancing his way. The click of the door made her wince as Dean went to bed.
Sleepless night was an understatement. Dean’s eyes didn’t close once as he lay there thinking how wrong the day had gone. He and Y/N had argued since their feet hit the floor that morning. Him being an ass was the reason for it. He hated fighting with her, but when he woke that morning, she was curled up at his side, her head on his chest. Usually, a man wouldn't complain about having a beautiful woman wrapped around him, but it tends to put you in a pissy mood when it’s a woman you love but can’t have. 
Dean was ass over tea kettle for Y/N, but he’d never tell her that. She deserved so much better than being saddled with a man who could barely stand his own company most days. He drank too much, and he wasn’t good at communicating how he felt. He knew that. Sam had told him many times he needed to learn to open up, but he didn’t want to burden anyone with the shitshow that was his mind. Especially her. So, as with his other emotions, he pushed his love for her deep and tried to ignore it. Lately, that hadn’t been working so well. As he lay there telling himself all the reasons he couldn’t have her, a sound caught his attention. He tiptoed to the door, cracking it slowly, and what he saw had him rushing out the door. 
“Y/N, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he quizzed her as he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. Her sobs were what he’d heard. 
“I’m fine, Dean. Go back to bed,” she hiccuped through her tears. She couldn’t tell him the full truth. 
“Obviously, you are the opposite of fine. Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” 
“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, placing her chin between his thumb and index finger to turn her face to him, “Is this about today?” 
“Partially,” she admitted, trying to turn her head back to the window, but his grip wouldn’t let her.
“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. I know I was being an ass, but I had no idea it would hurt your feelings like that. Can you explain to me why? I’m not trying to fight. I honestly don’t understand.” 
“I’ve tried to get rid of the ‘hillbilly’ stigma since I left this place. It's always the same thing whenever someone finds out where I’m from. There’s this image people have about people from the Appalachian mountains that just aren’t true. We’re not a bunch of ignorant, uneducated people who live deep in the woods and never come out. Unfortunately, movies and TV shows have depicted us in such a bad light that most people think that’s all we are. And when that term comes from the man you…” she gasped, catching what she almost said. But Dean caught it as well. 
“The man you what, Y/N?” he asked, holding his breath. Was she about to admit what he thought? Maybe, just maybe, he could try to be better, be the man she deserved if she loved him too. 
“Dean…” she whimpered, trying to turn away from him again, but he wasn’t letting her go now. 
“Uh uh, say it. Say it, Y/N,” he pleaded, his eyes staring into hers, “Were you going to say the man you loved?” 
“Yes! Okay? I was going to say the man I loved!” she shouted in frustration as she jumped from the couch, finally breaking Dean’s hold on her, “Now, go ahead and tell me that you don’t see me that way, tell me that you don’t want me, so I can prepare to pack my shit and leave when we get back to the bunker. Because I can’t stay there and see you every day after your rejection. I just can’t.” 
Dean stood and walked to her as she stood staring out the window, her back to him after her confession. He touched her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. Her look of sadness and despair nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He thought having his heart literally ripped out would hurt less than seeing her like this. He slid his hand up from her shoulder to cup her cheek. A tear trickled down her face as she closed her eyes at his touch, and he swiped it away with his thumb. 
“Is that what you want me to tell you, or do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked softly, waiting for her to open her eyes, which didn’t take a split second. Her eyes went wide. 
“What are you saying?” she uttered shakily. 
“I’m saying that I love you, too, Y/N. I have for a long time.” 
“But, but,” she stuttered, trying to find her words, “You were so mad at me when we woke up this morning. That isn’t how someone acts when they love the person in bed with them.” 
“Sweetheart, I was mad because I opened my eyes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen curled up against me, and all I could think was how I wanted it to mean something, and I didn’t think it ever would. If I’m being honest, you could do so much better. And thinking I’d never have you that way pissed me off because I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you, Y/N. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and I fall asleep picturing you beside me. I know I’m not a good man, and there’s someone out there that could and would give you more than I’ll ever be able to, but if you really love me, I’m going to be selfish for one time in my fucking life and ask you to give me a chance. I can guarantee that I’m going to piss you off and probably hurt your feelings again, but it will never be intentional. So, what do you say? You want to give us a shot?” He poured his heart out to her, leaning his forehead against hers as he waited for an answer. 
“Dean, contrary to what you believe, you are a good man. You love with your whole being and fiercely protect those lucky enough to get that love. I know you don’t believe you deserve it, but you deserve the world, Dean Winchester, and I’d be honored to be the one to try and give it to you.” 
“Really?” he asked with a million-watt smile, leaning back to look her in the eye. 
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she returned his smile, both sighing in relief. 
“Come here,” he growled, pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately. 
The kiss was better than either had imagined, and they both poured the love they felt for the other into it. They stayed that way until the need to breathe became too much, pulling away with smiles. He pulled her into a hug, laying his head on top of hers. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence. 
“So, you want to move your stuff into my room when we get back? 
“I don’t know, Dean,” she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip, “I really think we need to take this as slowly as possible. Make sure that we’re going to last.” 
“Oh, yeah, okay,” he agreed, his heart clenching at the hurt he felt. 
“I’m just joking,” she laughed, poking him in the ribs, “You’re not going to get rid of me now!” 
“Damn it, Y/N! That wasn’t funny! You almost gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, not finding her joke all that funny. 
“I think I’m hilarious,” she smirked up at him. 
“You’re something, alright. Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We have a lot of packing to do when we get home,” he suggested, leading her toward the bedroom, “You have a lot of shit. I don’t know where we’re going to put it all.” 
“Ha ha,” she deadpanned, “Well, we could always get rid of your vinyl collection to make room.” 
“Hey! Those are fighting words,” he growled playfully, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. 
“Bring it on, old man,” she cackled as his eyes shot up his forehead in shock. 
“I’ll show you an old man!” he said in faux anger, chasing her into the bedroom. 
All that could be heard as the bedroom door shut was the laughter and playful banter between the new couple, and that’s how it stayed for the years to come.
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pullupinarari · 4 months ago
Text
Swear the only one I want is you [LH]
author's note: i'm back with a fluffy yet a bit angsty fic after this shitty weekend 🥲 thank you so much to the lovely follower that requested it, i hope you enjoy this!! mwah
• masterlist
wc: 6111 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated
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You don’t know how it started, you just know that it’s a feeling that you’ve always known inside of you. Maybe it’s the way he smiles, the way his giggles seem to echo through your whole body, the lovely sounds reverberating inside of you. Or maybe it’s the way he looks at you, his eyes shimmering in a light that is capable of reaching the darkest corners of your being, the way his words sound so gentle to you, or maybe it’s the way he hugs you like you are made of crystal, trying to warm your body when you feel cold, trying to comfort you like the good friend that he is. But that’s all he is: your friend, and that will never change.
You’ve met Lewis nine years ago, through friends that you two had in common. And just like that, you two got along so well since day one, like it was something natural between you two. 
You couldn’t explain why you were always so nervous to see him again - hell, you didn’t even understand why you always had that suffocating feeling in your chest whenever you knew that you were going to be in the same place as him. But somehow, every time your eyes would meet, that feeling would fade, and it was like he was filling your lungs with air, bringing you back to life, to a reality where he would be the one lighting up your mood and your insides. 
Eventually, you started realizing: you were falling for him - hard, really hard. And no matter how hard you would try to stop it, it was pointless. Nothing could make your feelings go away, and everytime you would see Lewis, it was like your emotions would escalate, your feelings would find a new power to feed themselves off, to grow more and more inside of you. And they keep growing, to the point where it’s suffocating every time you see him with another girl, whether it’s somewhat of a more serious girlfriend or just a fling.
The sight of him with someone that’s not you was enough to make you nauseous, to make your heart feel tight in your chest - the way his hands would wrap around other girl’s waist, making you go to sleep thinking how she would have the experience of seeing him in his plenitude, either physically or just by being able to watch him fall asleep, to see him in such an intimate space. You would close your eyes, trying to forget about all that, but the beating in your chest is too loud, and it keeps you awake while your mind haunts you, picturing him with all those girls, all the time. 
You would often find yourself asking if you would ever get a chance. If in a parallel reality, maybe Lewis could love you back just as much as you love him. And even though it’s not fair, you would find yourself praying to God - praying that all those girls would break his heart in the nicest way possible. You know it’s selfish to say, but you are the one that’s always there for him, through the good and the bad, and consequently you are the one helping him go through all the break ups. So maybe, he just needs to have his heart broken a few more times until he realizes that you were the one that always stayed, the one that loved him through his highs and lows. If you’re right in front of him, why can’t he see you? 
Maybe he’s out of your league - you often think. Maybe he’s just one of those types of dreams that will only prevail in your mind, that will never come true. And after feeling your heart breaking so many times because of him, you slowly come to the realization that it might be time to pick up the pieces of your heart from the floor, glue them back together the best you can, and allow yourself to live your life - to actually feel, to love, to laugh, to share moments with someone else. 
And that’s when you decide to finally give Bryan chance - your co-worker that’s been begging you for a chance to take you out to dinner for months now. You definitely need to meet new people, to take your mind off of something that is never going to happen, so you finally agree to meet him for dinner. 
You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling nervous to go on a date - your first one after so long, it’s like you already forgot how intimidating the thought of going out with a guy could sound. 
But Bryan greets you with a smile, one that’s so genuine that could make you feel warm and welcomed again. And through the night, the way he makes you laugh, makes you realize that you didn’t even know how much fun he is. The hours fly by, and nothing could prepare you for how much you would enjoy your evening with your co-worker - from dinner, to a walk to the nearest ice cream place that was still open, to the way he made you feel like a silly teen again, giggling while eating your desserts in the middle of a warm summer night. 
You realize that you two actually have a lot more in common than you thought, and he grows on you, piece by piece. He’s not that bad, after all, and maybe this is what you’ve been missing the whole time while you were pining over Lewis - someone that could make you feel light, that could make your belly hurt for laughing so hard, little tears decorating the corner of your eyes from smiling so widely the entire time. 
Bryan takes you home, and you can’t help but feel like it’s too soon to watch him leave already - craving more time by his side, enticed by the way he makes you feel special. 
“Do you want to come inside? I have a nice wine bottle yet to open” - you invite him, and you note the way his smile grows bigger at your words, feeding himself off the way you make his stomach swirl with butterflies as well. 
It’s crazy how you feel so comfortable talking to him, how you two sit on your kitchen stools, sipping on the red wine, looking into each other’s eyes so intensely. And time stopped for you: your mind travels back in time, reminding you that you weren’t allowing yourself to feel this way towards anyone else, being so focused on Lewis and Lewis only. To be fair, you and Lewis would turn into one as soon as the conversation between you two would start, flowing like crazy. 
But you can’t deny that you missed this feeling - the one that makes you know that Bryan is feeling exactly the same way as you, feeling the intensity of his eyes burning on your skin, making you blush. And your hand slides across the table, to touch his fingers slightly. 
“I had such a great night, thank you” - you tell him honestly, and your fingers slowly intertwine with his. 
The touch makes your bodies connect, like a string of electricity running between the two of you. His hand feels soft, gentle, and you can’t help but move your body closer, closing the space between the two of you. Your other hand is lazily moving up his arm, while neither of you breaks eye contact - you just want to stay in this moment forever, feel like this forever, feel your whole body moving on its own with anticipation. 
“I hope your heart is beating as fast as mine is” - he lets you know, opening up to let you know that this moment is something that he has dreamed about for a long time now. And here you are, right in front of him, melting your body with his with just mere touches, a thousand thoughts running through your mind while your eyes scan his features, landing on the shape of his lips. 
You’ve wasted enough time in your life waiting for someone who will never come, it’s time for you to live your life, to take risks, to fall in love with someone else. “He’s probably with some other girl now anyway” - you think, before connecting your lips with Bryan’s. 
The way your lips move together, how his hand grabs your face, and you’re quietly moaning into his mouth, makes you feel like you’re taking the right path into your new future, letting go of all the heartbreaks and disappointments, leaving them in the past.
One date turns into more, resulting in multiple afternoons, nights and weekends that you were craving to spend in the presence of one another - it was only a matter of time until you were kissing all the time, sharing promises of a future together, officializing your relationship now. A little more over a month after you and Bryan had officially started dating, you had your best friend’s birthday party - and could there be a better chance to introduce your boyfriend to your friends? 
You two looked adorable together, wearing matching outfits, looking disgustingly in love with each other. Your fingers were always interlocked, eyes glancing and sharing smiles while everyone could feel the warm vibrations emanating from your bodies. You were laughing with your boyfriend and your best friends, when Lewis showed up, alongside some more people.
Your body freezes for a moment, feeling cold all of the sudden when your eyes meet. Your smile drops, and you notice how Lewis checks you out attentively. He approaches your group slowly, analyzing the man beside you, his gaze following Bryan’s arm that’s wrapped around your waist, only to notice how you’re leaning your back against his chest lightly. Lewis gives you one final look, and you note that his facial expression is closed, as if he didn’t like what he just saw. He sighs softly before speaking up, greeting his friends with a smile - one that he had to force more than he would want to. 
When he gets to you, he only gives you a dry and flat “hi”, not even bothering giving you a hug or a kiss on the cheek as you two used to do before. Your heart sinks slightly - as much as you hate to admit it, you were waiting for that source of contact with him, and he just distanced his body from yours, like he doesn’t even know you. 
“Oh, Lewis! This is Bryan, Y/N’s boyfriend!” - your best friend tells him, noticing how you didn’t introduce them. 
You don’t know why, but those words made his eyes darken, and he ended up not even acknowledging your boyfriend. Instead, he just looked you dead in the eyes once again, while slowly nodding his head at what your friend told him. 
For the rest of the night, Lewis vanished from your sight as if he was smoke. Even being by your boyfriend’s side, you couldn’t help but look around, trying to find him, only to no avail. He was nowhere to be seen near you. 
On the opposite side of the party, Lewis left his group of friends after he saw you. He needed some time alone, he needed to organize his mind, his chaotic thoughts sounding loud in his head. He can’t explain how badly his blood started boiling once he saw the way another dude was touching you - like you were his, like you belonged to him. 
He keeps sipping on his drink, leaning on a corner where silence and darkness fill the room, away from the loud music playing. 
Lewis is feeling confused. Deep down, he knows damn well what’s going on, he just doesn't want to admit it. He was used to you being available, to always pick up his calls, no matter the time. He was used to turning to you whenever things would get shaky or complicated, and you would always be there for him.
But lately, you weren’t picking up his calls as much, you stopped showing up to dinner with your friends, and Lewis missed having you sat beside him the entire night. He misses talking to you for hours, he misses the warmth that you had, the power to make it creep through his entire body. And now he knows the reason why you stopped showing up, and it’s like you’re making him taste his own venom. 
These feelings have been drowning in his chest for years now, and he knows it. He knows that the only reason why he keeps insisting on having stupid flings is because he doesn’t want to admit how badly he fell for you over the years. You are way too good for him, you are way more responsible, thoughtful - you are kind to everybody around you and that’s the thing that made Lewis fall for you in the first place. But maybe it’s time for him to admit that no matter what he might tell himself, none of those girls are as good as you. It’s time for him to own his emotions, to accept that his heart already belongs to you, and it has for a while now.
But he doesn’t know how you feel about him. Sure, he can feel the intensity that lingers between the two of you whenever you are together, the way your eyes speak for themselves, the way you could just sit in a comfortable silence next to each other and you would still have a great time together. But still, he was always afraid to take the next step, to make a move towards you. He could have all the confidence in the world when it comes to every other girl, but not with you. You are the one that makes him weak at the knees. 
He knows he is not that good at hiding the way his smile grows bigger whenever he looks at you, the blushing in his cheeks when he sees your name appearing on his phone, and even though his friends try to encourage him to confess his feelings to you, he swore to himself that he would never ruin your friendship like this. 
Bryan kept chatting with some of your friends while you decide to let go of his grip, needing some time for yourself. You’ve felt weird ever since Lewis’ eyes landed on you. It was like all your old feelings just came back to the surface of your skin. You look at yourself through the bathroom mirror while your hands splatter some water on your neck and chest, helping you calm down for a bit. It’s crazy how your body feels so hot while your insides feel so cold, confused with your own person now. 
You walk over to the bar, in need of a drink that can either help you clear your mind or forget about your feelings. You take a seat while you order, and a few seconds later, you feel the intensity of someone approaching you. 
“Care to explain how that dumb ass pulled you?” - his voice startles you, turning your head to look at him. There he is, sitting right by your side - maybe he was looking for you as well, waiting for an opportunity to find you by yourself, without Bryan glued to your hip. 
You sigh loud enough for him to hear. “Excuse me?” - you ask, giving him a cold look in return, while his gaze lands as intense as always on you. 
He chuckles, like he’s genuinely amused by what he saw, and by your reactions now. 
“Come on, Y/N. You can do so much better, and you settle for someone so bland?” - Lewis laughs to himself as he takes a sip of his drink, analyzing your movements. 
He knows you well, and that’s something that you shouldn’t forget. Your fingers are fidgeting, your breathing feels heavy in your chest, making it raise more than it should. You are clawing at your own cup, your mind is racing to find an answer to give him, as you avoid looking at Lewis the entire time now. 
“For your information, he’s very nice. Bryan actually cares about me, makes me feel loved, makes me laugh. I would be dumb not to give him a chance. But why are you so concerned about who I date? Shouldn’t you be worrying about your flings and all the girls that line up to have a chance with you?” - you spat in his face, your words coming out bitter and annoyed, but the smirk in his lips never fades. It’s like he’s enjoying making you upset, ruining your mood and your night even more than he already has. 
You can feel the jealousy inside of you boiling up and starting to show now, so you leave your seat at the bar, turning your back to him as you walk outside, looking for a quiet place where you can take some deep breaths. 
Lewis follows your steps, right behind you as his voice guides you absently. “I’m just saying… Does he make you feel that good? Because I know for a fact that you could do a lot better, and you know that too. There’s guys out there that would do everything to be lucky enough to have you” - he says as you stop walking, leaning your body against the balcony railing that you had just found.
You sigh again, rubbing your temples as the summer breeze moves some of your hair out of your face, and Lewis can’t help but admire your features, illuminated by the moonlight now. You can’t control the ironic laugh that leaves your mouth at his words. 
“Who?” - you ask. “Who, Lewis? Who would do everything for me, to have me, to take care of me? Because last time I checked I’ve spent the last few months, even years, of my life alone, earning one heartbreak after another” - the rage in your veins speaks louder, but you manage to quiet it down, before you say something that you might regret. 
Lewis stays silent for a second, trying to make a decision. He can either confess his feelings for you - and you can requite his love, or never face him ever again. Or he can shut up and watch you walk through the door, with the possibility of you never wanting to see him again after his comments. 
He takes a deep breath, staring at the floor while he tries to gather the courage to speak up. “I would” - the words leave his mouth slowly, sounding soft but scared at the same time. He looks you in the eyes now, trying to find an answer in them, searching for a glimpse of some emotion, something that makes him feel a bit less insecure than he does right now. 
Your eyebrows furrow slightly, trying to make up the meaning behind his words. Your brain struggles to process what he’s trying to say - so it’s easier to sabotage yourself and let your anger show once again. You shake your head and close your eyes, almost forcing yourself to deny what you just heard. 
“Why are you such a dick, Lewis?!” - you ask him bluntly, seeing how he's taken aback by your words. “Why do you keep messing with my head?!” - you insist, sensing how some tears are threatening to spill from your eyes. 
“Because I love you!” - he interrupts you, his tone rising without him even realizing. But he realizes that he needs to do this. He needs to finally confess his feelings to you, he needs to try and win your heart or at least just let you know how he feels, before he ends up drowning in his own emotions.
“I have loved you ever since the first time my eyes landed on yours. Ever since that first night after we all had dinner together at your friend’s house and we stayed up talking for hours, not even realizing that the time was passing by. Ever since that time I knocked on your door in the middle of the night because I was going through one of the most difficult times of my life, and you opened the door and let me in. And you listened to me. You saw me crying, lying on your sofa and you still helped me, you let me stay the night, you didn’t let me go home to stay by myself with my self-destructive mind. And ever since that day at the beach, when you were being dragged by a big wave and I ran into the water to get you out of there, and you held yourself to me, crying because you were so scared. I have loved you since I’ve known you, Y/N. And I tried to deny it for so long, but I can’t keep doing it anymore. Not when I see you wasting your time with someone that can’t love you like I can” - he breathes after feeling the heavy weight of his feelings lift off his shoulders. 
The tears that were lingering in your eyes are now sliding through your cheeks, staining your features while the moon is still reflecting its light on them. Your heart is beating so fast that you feel like it can escape out of your chest in a matter of seconds. The world around you feels blurry after hearing the person you have loved for years, declaring his love for you as well. But your boyfriend is somewhere in the middle of this party, and everything feels like it’s too much now, overwhelming you to a crazy level. 
You shake your head lightly before speaking. “I can’t do this right now, Lewis. I just can’t” - you let him know while you search for the nearest exit, wanting to go home as fast as possible. 
Tears keep escaping your eyes, and you don’t even bother telling Bryan that you’re leaving - he’s the last person you want to see now, to be honest. He didn’t even bother looking for you this entire time since you left his side, so he should be fine. 
When you step outside, you call a taxi to get you home. You can’t wait to open the door to your house, to feel safe in your refuge. But once you get there, your mind doesn’t stop. Every place your eyes land, reminds you of a memory, of moments that you’ve shared with Lewis in your house, during all these years. 
The sofa where you let him sleep when he didn’t want to be by himself, the balcony where you two would have a nice coffee during warm, sunny afternoons. The painting on the wall that he gifted you on your birthday. It’s like your house is an album, full of recollections of moments that you’ve spent together. 
And it just makes it so much more painful than it already is. You never thought Lewis could be as in love with you as you are with him. But you have Bryan now, and you don’t want to let him down after everything he has done for you so far. He takes such good care of you, and this definitely isn’t his fault - you just feel bad that he got caught in the middle of this, feeling like you are guilty for dragging him into this. 
Your sobs quiet down a bit, as you drag your feet to your room, burying your head on the pillow as you cry yourself to sleep, praying that your mind won’t make you dream about all this in your unconscious state. 
While you force yourself to sleep, Lewis is still leaning against the balcony where you left him. The wind is blowing stronger now, making goosebumps appear on his skin. Somehow, it’s like he doesn’t even feel it - he feels paralyzed, like he can’t feel anything at all. 
His eyes face the horizon while his brain fights him internally. He can’t help but close his fists, his own anger consuming him now. “You fucked it up, idiot”, “she left because you ruined everything. You fucking ruined it, Lewis” - he keeps beating himself up, feeling disappointed at the entire situation.
He took a shot at finally admitting his own feelings - to himself and to you at the same time. And you did nothing besides turning your back at him, leaving him hanging by a thread with the infinite creation of doubtful thoughts lingering in his brain. 
For Lewis, this party turned into a state of misery. The electric music echoing through the building doesn’t match the way he feels so cold, alone, abandoned while he holds his heart in his hands. 
He finishes his drink, deciding that it was time for him to head home as well. The way everyone is dancing and singing, sounding so happy, is just making him feel more sorry for himself, and the sense of pity gathering around his chest is enough to make it hard for him to breathe.
Lewis tries to think clearly about the whole situation. He understands your side, how things might seem so confused and complicated to you now - how the way he reacted didn’t help your case at all. But there’s still a string of hope guiding him on the inside, so he tries to be patient, to try and rest his mind for a couple of hours, so hopefully he can make things right again in the morning. 
You wake up feeling like shit. Your body feels sore from the lack of rest, your face has makeup smudged all over it, you can still see the stains that your tears left behind. The few hours of sleep that you had didn’t help at all - now you just feel empty, like your brain is actively choosing not to process everything that happened last night.
You check your phone - 13 missed calls from Bryan, alongside a bunch of texts that he sent you, that you won’t bother replying to right now. You notice how Lewis didn’t reach out to you, not a call, not a simple text, nothing - and you hate to admit it, but your heart breaks a little at the thought that maybe he wasn’t being serious yesterday, maybe he completely regrets what he told you.
You hop in the shower, using the hot water to comfort your aching body and your aching heart - maybe the steam might confuse your senses enough until you forget about all this. 
Meanwhile, Lewis is in his house, getting dressed and mentally getting ready to talk to you. He can’t deny that his body does feel shaky, he can’t stand the thought of you closing the door on his face or sending him away - that’s what his anxiety keeps telling him, the images that his mind keeps producing. 
But the love he feels for you is stronger than his negative thoughts. The will he has in his essence to make things right with you, the desire of hearing your sweet words again, of feeling your soft touch on his skin - he just wants to be close to you. And he is praying that you will feel the need to be next to him just as much.
You are leaving your shower when you hear someone knocking on your door gently. You can’t hold the sigh that escapes your mouth at the thought of it being Bryan, but you still open it.
Your eyes wide at the sight of Lewis standing at your door, and his gaze shines when you come into view. Your hair is all wet, you have your fluffy robe on - your favorite one, that makes you feel warm and comfortable when you are struggling with your own thoughts. He can’t help but smile to himself at how cute you look.
Your body freezes in place, and you wish you could take back the sigh that left your lips seconds before you opened the door. It’s not Bryan, your boyfriend that filled your phone with calls and messages - but it’s Lewis, the one that didn’t call, but actually showed up at your door, wanting to see you in person instead of reading a few words on his phone screen. And he’s the only one that you wanted to see as well. 
“Can I come in?” - he asks, cautious not to startle your silent self. You just nod your head, opening the door wider for him to come inside. 
He knows your house like it’s his own now. But still, he stands in the middle of the living room, waiting for you to sit down first and to give him permission to do the same. Lewis decides to take a seat right beside you, so he can look you in the eyes and see the truth in them.
Both of you stay silent for a minute, just looking at each other, analyzing each other's features, the way you can see yourselves through the reflections in the other's eyes.
“How are you feeling?” - Lewis asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but you hear him clearly due to the proximity of your faces. 
You smile softly at his words - almost ironically. You don’t know how you feel. It seems like you can’t put your messy, chaotic thoughts and feelings into words. So you just shrug at his question. “I don’t know, to be honest. I am so confused” - you reveal to him.
Lewis nods his head at your words, completely understanding your side, and realizing that he needs to be the one stepping up now. He takes a deep breath, clearing his throat before speaking up. 
“Listen, Y/N. I could barely get any sleep last night either, because I kept thinking about everything that happened, and I-” he cuts himself to try and breathe again, the anxiety running through his body taking the best of him.
“I need to let you know how sorry I am. For everything. And how much I regret everything that happened, everything that I’ve done. I was stupid and dumb. I’ll be completely honest with you, I’ve been feeling like this for a while now. I knew the exact moment when I realized that I was falling for you, I knew it all. And I wish I would’ve confessed my feelings to you sooner, because-” - your voice interrupts him now. 
“You knew all that, and you were still going out with other girls, having a bunch of flings and talking to me about all of them like it was nothing” - you point out, the hurt evident in your tone, making his heart sink a little deeper. 
He is the one sighing now - he knows that you are right. “Because I was stupid and a coward! I was so afraid to admit all those feelings even to myself, I thought that other girls could make me forget about the way you made me feel, but they didn’t. Because no matter what I would tell myself, they weren’t nearly as good as you. Fuck, Y/N, I was so scared. To lose your friendship and to see you walk away from my life for good, to ruin you. You are so much better than me, but I can’t keep drowning in this feeling, especially when seeing you with another dude absolutely kills me” - he is talking faster now, like he wants you to know every single thing, begging you to listen to what he has to say.
You watch him attentively, reading him between the lines. His eyes are a bit glossy now, his hands are shaking slightly - you know how hard it is for him to open up to someone. And how much courage he had to gather to knock on your door today and to show you his vulnerable self, only for you to know how honest his words are.
“I know you used to like me too, our friends aren’t good at keeping secrets. They opened my eyes last night after you left the party. They found me when I was leaving as well, the dumb fuck that let the girl of his dreams slip through his fingers, because he was so scared to admit that he was so madly in love with her. Your best friend then told me that you have been in love with me for years now too. I guess we are the blind ones that never really got it” - he smiles slightly at his words, feeling the bitterness at the possibility of having lost your love.
You nod your head, avoiding his eyes now. “It's true. I’ve been so in love with you for the past couple of years… that’s why I never got with another guy for so long. I guess I still had some hope that you would notice me someday, since I was always there, by your side. I thought my moment would come one day” - you say ironically, feeling stupid, ridiculous and tiny for saying that to him, for admitting this shitty feeling to his face. “But now I have Bryan, and I-” - Lewis doesn’t let you finish. 
“I know. Look, at the end of the day, I just want you to be happy - even if it means that you'll choose him over me. You know me, and I could never be selfish enough to ask you to choose me if that means your eyes won't shine as bright as I am used to. I know you date him now and if he's the one letting your sparkle show, go for it. If you feel like he's your person, the one you want to spend your life with, just forget about everything I said. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, and how badly I will always love you, but I'm not going to stop you. Just make sure that I die first, because I can't stand the thought of a future without it being by your side” - he admits, his hand reaching to immediately clean some tears that leave his eyes. 
Your tears match his now, letting them slide down your face while you look him in the eyes. “He sent me a bunch of texts, but he didn’t even bother showing up at my door. He doesn’t even know if I’m okay or not” - you shrug, realizing that Bryan isn’t your person, and he could never be. 
Lewis closes the gap between your bodies, reaching to grab a stand of hair that’s in your face, carefully moving it behind your ear. “At least I am man enough to do this” - he tells you while his hands touch your face, grabbing your features gently before pressing your lips together. The way your mouths move in perfect sync, his touch as smooth as silk, the fire between your bodies reigniting - and the crazy intensity that you two create, is enough to make you feel dizzy.
You don’t need to think about anything else, you have all the answers you need right here, right now. After a moment, you break the kiss, your lungs searching for air as you and Lewis share a passionate look, a relieved one after having the courage to do something both of you have been craving for so long. 
“Don’t make me regret this, Hamilton” - you tell him, before pulling him in for another kiss. 
“I am so crazy about you” - he tells you between pecks. “I would even walk a thousand miles just to feel your head on my chest. I am never ruining what we have, no one can make me feel like this” - he admits, flashing you a bright smile as he notices how you melt at his words, his touch, feeling like you’re in heaven now, living your deepest dream. 
“You promise?” - you ask him, pulling your pinky finger up. Lewis notices the humor in your voice now, aware that you are messing with him. 
“I promise” - his finger interlocks with yours. “I swear, the only one I want is you” - he kisses the top of your head as you lay on his chest, feeling your body finally relaxing after hours of distress.
“I guess I have a heart to break, now” - you say, remembering about Bryan and how he needs to know the truth. 
“As long as it’s not mine” - Lewis jokes, holding your body closer to his, sighing contently as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, his eyes fixed on the view of the city coming from the window in front of him, already dreaming of a future next to you - a ‘forever’ type of future that he could never regret.
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roosterforme · 11 months ago
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Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 4700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.
Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.
She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 
"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 
She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. 
Your whispers call out in the darkest shadows, My heart answers like a flame, Igniting this shared space with every breath I take, Giving you a love that will never find the end. It binds me to you, pulsing through my veins, Emotions like I've never known before. I've doubted that I could reach this place, But I feel endlessly sure here now.
Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 
"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 
It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.
When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 
"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 
At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.
Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 
"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.
The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 
"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"
"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 
"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.
Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 
"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."
"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"
Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."
She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.
"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 
"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"
"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"
Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."
Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."
Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.
"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."
"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 
There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."
Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."
Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"
--------------------------
"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."
Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 
"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 
"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."
His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.
I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.
This is Anna, by the way.
I should have started with that information.
Wow. This is already embarrassing.
Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."
He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."
"Good night, Robert."
Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 
I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.
He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.
Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)
Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.
The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.
That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 
Did I miss anything?
He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.
Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?
Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.
Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.
Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.
He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 
Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.
--------------------
Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.
She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 
"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 
When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 
"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 
Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 
Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 
Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.
I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 
When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.
Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.
Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 
"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.
Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.
She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.
Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.
"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.
--------------------------
Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"
"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"
He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."
She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."
"Too late."
She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."
Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.
Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"
He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."
"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."
"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."
When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."
"You keep saying 'next time'."
Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."
"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."
She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 
"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 
He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."
Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"
"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."
"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 
"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.
Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."
"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"
"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."
Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.
"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."
When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.
------------------------
When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 
She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.
She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Within minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 
"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 
She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 
The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.
-------------------------
Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 5
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leeneir · 1 year ago
Note
Hehy! If you are writing Yandere can I request canons for Iso?
Look at Me Please; Shy Yandere!Iso x Reader Headcanons P.1
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I'm working on another req fic as we speak, but I'm taking breaks to do this one bc him being "Mine all mine" is very appealing🥰🫶
And yes, part 1. This prompt just got my Iso loving brain rolling.
Pre Relationship
I want you to think of these like its u and him progressing, as if its a timeline of ur relationship.
- A shy possesive yandere. You are his, no questions. But he doesn't have the courage to show it enough (for now.)
- Iso was always forced to cut off his connections due to the organization, but the Valorant Protocol was different. He found someone there worth going against everything he's known all his life.
- The moment his eyes set on you, he had an overwhelming urge to always be near you and always wanted to know where you were and who you were with.
- He spots you and Jett having flirty banter in the hallway and later during training 'accidentally' shot a bullet which shoots through the wall right next to her head. He barely glances at the wind radiant and mutter a half-hearted apology, but that glance was enough to give Jett the creeps.
- You notice how he's always near or around you and you decide to befriend him like the friendly person you were, you'll notice how his eyes fixate on you as if you were a precious jewel in the muddy dirt but don't pay it any mind.
- While you were chatting, he suddenly blurts out "You're beautiful," and immediately goes red in the face and stammering out apology after apology while he pulls his collar up to cover his face.
- You laugh as you try to calm him down, saying that you were flattered that he thought so. You place your hand on his shoulder while his back is turned to you and he freezes for a good 3 seconds before he looks back at you, his eyes had such intensity as they met yours. You pat and reassure him again, telling him that you thought he was handsome too.
- He decided something that day. Killing Omen wouldn't be worth it because it meant he'd have to cut off the valorant protocol, meaning he'd never see you again. Being with you was better than having to deal with his employers anyway.
- You, and your voice he couldn't get enough of, and your amazing skill and talent both in and off the battlefield, and your pretty face, and your pretty body, and your enchanting self that he wants all for himself.
- Back to actual headcanons. He's always very desperate to get your attention but he's too shy to actually ask for it. Which is why he'll always make sure to outperform everyone during training so that he can receive sweet praises from you that he'll repeat in his head for weeks.
- When you get injured out on the field on the same mission, Iso will go berserk. Even if it's just a graze. All you can do is hope that he'll be ok when he goes silent on the comms.
- Iso does NOT listent to reason and destroys his earpiece as he slowy digs his knife deeper into the enemies throat. How DARE they ruin your perfect body.
- He's always watching. Always in the darkest shadows where you never even know he's there. He has his eyes on you more than Cypher.
- Speaking of him, Iso has threatened Cypher to keep his prying eyes and ear aeay from you. He doesn't deserve to even be on the same world as you. His arena has space for a new corpse if need be.
- He doesn't take snacks offered to him by other agents. If you offer though, he wouldn't even eat it. He'd place it in his room with all the other memoirs he's collected from you.
- As time goes on, he gets braver. He starts putting his hands on your back, he initiates conversations, he offers you private training sessions and more. But that doesn't stop the ever growing urge to hold you, touch you, and keep you all to himself and not let anyone else even look at you.
- No one will get in the way. And I mean no one.
- If you get hurt again, he'll insist he'll patch you up himself. There's no need to go to Sage when he has an excuse to touch you can fix you up too.
- One day, you shoot your shot. You ask him out on a boba tea date, and he has to take a moment to compose himself. YOU were asking HIM out on a date? Was this a dream? Was this a prank by you and the others?
- Either way, he agrees with a soft smile, saying how he's been interested in you for a while and also wanted to ask you out but never knew how to. You laugh, your sweet, sweet, deliciously beautiful laugh he wants to hear more of and you joke about how you beat him to it, before setting up a time and meetup location before going off to your room to get ready.
- You don't notice the way his eyes are eating up the sight of you, and you don't notice how his soft smile turned into one of pure ecstasy and hunger. His face completely red at the idea of going on a date with you and is just so happy that he almost forgot about his plan to cause a minor life-threatening injury to Yoru for being such an asshole to you earlier that week. Almost.
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sunofpandora · 1 year ago
Note
Heyyy so I saw your requests post and I’ve been dying to get this one off my chest, so how about a neteyam x omaticaya! warrior! reader where reader’s a fierce warrior (maybe a protege of one of the higher ups). And we all know Neteyam (the mighty warrior lol) is strong and also one of the best their age, but what if Neteyam had such intense feelings for her that all he wants to do is impress her but whenever she comes around he gets all klutzy and flustered? And of course she finds it funny and cute and all that jazz. Just fluff I NEED FLUFF
P.s. The decision to fulfill this request is yours and I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to. As long as you’re comfortable, all’s fine by me.
But yeaaa have a good day/night :)
Authors note:
Hi babes!
So I loved this request so much! So I decided to make my very first actual long series! ‘Virago’ is going to be an original work and one of my first long projects. Unfortunately, I will not have a TON of time to do smaller requests in between chapters but i will def try! I’m very excited for this and i wouldn't have even considered this without the request so thank you so, so much.   
                                     
                                                  V I R A G O                   
Part 1.
The Day the Sky Turned Red.
8.7k words.
𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/
‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenx under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’
When grief plagues the young warrior, Neteyam gives her a gift. But it is enough to console the flames in her heart?
Neteyam and reader having a sun x moon relationship (hello 'diaphanous’ readers <3)
Warnings: Descriptions of death/ parental death/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school.
Mentions of insecurity, blood, war, guns, reader being mommy/
I think that’s it?
Oh right, Reader fell first but neteyam fell WAY harder.
Extra info:
Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, the first part of this chapter is a flashback to when y/n was 15. Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk are the agesthey are in atwow for the first part of the story. They age up in part 2 (in story)
(Ka’lik is the name of Y/ns father, her mother’s name is Zensira. Both were warriors, but Zensira was the best songstress in the clan. (Ninat go cry to the plant in the corner)) 
Super important note for the request sender:
Hey gorgeous so ik you asked for fluff and don't worry babes. I hear ya loud and clear. Unfortunately the first part of this chapter will be a bit angsty bc the creative juice were flowing and i got carried away but I swear on my grave the rest is nothing but fluff and lovey dovey shenanigans,
Not proofread
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆
To some, surrender was a comfort. A sanctuary of softly spoken submission.
To Y/n? It was a ‘bitch move’
3 years ago.
Day the sky people returned.
Y/n is 15-16
The Na’vi say, every person is born twice.
That we can redeem ourselves in the eyes of the great mother. 
That being truly evil doesn't mean just craving the pain of others. 
That the life of a single diseased root does not kill the whole tree.
That darkness is deadly, because like the brothers and sisters of bountiful green that dwell in the great mother’s garden, we too need sunlight to grow.
Your mother always told you monsters aren't born from a seed.
They grow when they are deprived of light.
But sometimes, we find solace in even the darkest of places. 
That sometimes there's comfort in the dense night. Where others see hell, you build a home.
Sometimes we thrive in darkness because we feel we do not deserve the glory of sunlight. 
Is it wrong? Is it terrible of you?
To see light where the great mother’s grace and the violence of the sky demons collide?
Things that were not meant to tear the ground of our great mother’s delicate skin.
Their metals and turning wheels, their combat boots and weapons that scream and spit fire.
But did it belong in your hands?
Your father would say, 
“Each person is a thread, weaved within a tapestry that tells a story.”
The thing about stories is that sometimes, they may not always end well, or worse, they end too early. Some people stretch the thread as far as they can, too unsettled to be spread too thin, too soon.
Change is fundamental. Mo’at reminded you “there is no death, only change”
A moral structure that refuses to be severed. You believe that's whats what distincts na’vi from the sky people. Humans are quite flawed creatures. Humans love to dream and dance about stars and rain because their planet refuses to cry for them any longer. Humans dwell with memories that are haunted with light that only exists in the past, lingering behind desire to relive. Humans are afraid of grief, or loss. Of the empty void that lingers behind the shadows. Humans love to selfishly cling to the fantasy they don't live in.
You will never understand why they put themselves through such violent tendencies. To torture themselves. To provide reach towards an unseen daydream just to rip it out of their hands.
Humans remain. Na’vi evolve.
Na’vi find solace within the endless sky. Burning with color, blazing infinite. Na’vi dance on the precipice of the clouds. 
Grief came over like the waves grazing the tide, promising reassurance and return.
Violence was never a necessity. A lingering intrusion of a spark that refused to become a flame. 
But what lies beyond the sky? Was there truly a shadow behind the sun?
When the embers refused to settle.
You found yourself infatuated with open spaces. Abundance found within indecipherable notions.
Cracks in the mountains. Small tears in the tapestry where light leaked through the canopy of the trees.
Nothingness was never a threat.
Not when the promise of warmth remained.
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆
Y/n met grief when she was only a child.
When she was 15, the RDA returned.
The day the sky turned red was the day the air smelled of sulfur and blood. 
Gray and red were never a pretty combination.
The demon ship’s wings stirred the trees and a storm of dust arise, 
Screaming, everyone running, the distant screeches of ikran and war cries.
The night your parents went out to gather some herbs, and never returned. 
When the pale light of the moon became a blazing, scorching, blanket of blankness that simmered into a forest engulfed in white flames. 
You found your mothers songcord on the ground the next morning.
Her body stained with red.
You stood next to Neteyam at your parent’s funeral.
You watched as Mo’ats hands guided the delicate floating Atokirina to rest upon your mothers chest as she murmured a prayer. 
People have this inherent conception that the hardest part of grief is change.
The loss of warmth in the safest of places, when the shadows loom rather than live. 
In reality, it's this unnamed feeling of a void.
Love is the amplification of a connection. Love distracts. It paralyzes you within its sanctuary of promises.
Grief feels like a shield with a hole blown through the middle. When the connection is shattered, and the sky is no longer protected without the scattered solace of the stars to veil the blank spaces.
Emptiness no longer infatuated you.
The sky without the stars is not a mystery anymore.
Neteyam held your hand. It didn't aid the hollowness within the cup of your palm. Guilt revenues in a realization, that even the great mother’s solace could not soothe this wound. This ache. This pain.
Neytiri’s soft sobs scorch the air with a soreness, the morning mist. Her fingertips, victims of bow strings and arrowhead edges gently brush the flowers placed around your mothers body. 
Neytiri was your mother’s sister. Not biologically. Preservations in our blood don’t always remain unsevered when a bond is born.
Your mother sobbed with her when hometree collapsed. Helped unbraid her hair for her night with Jake. Your mother had saved Neytiri’s life.
All those years ago when the RDA invaded Grace's school. When her body trembled at the sight of sylwanins blood that painted the floor and the walls, your mother walling as she desperately tried to drag Neytiri away.
To have such a bond. The heartbeat of one another emplaced in your bones, to sing a goodbye song with cruel unmeasured melodies. 
Jake held neytiri, gently rubbing circles onto her back, his own grievances had been paid due to earlier. 
Kiri’s tear stained cheeks didnt go unnoticed. She stood close to her father, Tuk’s tiny body squished between them as Kiri sobbed into Jake's shoulder . Kiri had always admired your mother. Chasing her shadow like wisp catching the breeze ever since she was a child. A woman of eywa. A healer. A hunter. Her heartbeat reserved for her home. Her people. Her daughter.
Lo’ak had placed his own tribute to the small spread laid out before the gently laid corpses.
A small carved arrowhead. 
Your father took over your mother’s job when she had other jobs to attend to, as being the one who trained a young group of warriors. Lo’ak included. He was patient with Lo’ak. Never discouraged him. A father liek mentorship had bloomed. So when his time came to join the great mother, Lo’ak contributed his own item of remembrance.
Lo’ak gave his arrowhead.
Tuk gave a small flower.
Kiri gave a small bundle of herbs the omaticaya believed was to aid the departing spirit on their journey.
Neytiri added a few carved beads from an anklet she wore. One your mother, Neytiri and Sylwanin had shared over the years, each of the three contributing beads or small trinkets to the piece.
Jake gave some beads as well. From a necklace your mother helped him make Neytiri when he struggled with the stringing of the oddly-shaped beads back when Jake was training for iknimiya, attempting to woo the young blue-skinned warrior he knew as neytiri.
All the omaticaya came to bear their gifts. Neteyam included, who gave you the gift of his warmth.
He cradled your hand in his, he raised it to his chest when the roots covered your parents bodies. 
You’ve loved Neteyam for many years now. Watching him grow from a boy to a man. 
You grew up next to the sullys. Your heights measured next to theirs as a child. Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, even little tuk had built a circle around you. You were a part of their lives. They were  piece of yours. 
You found him in an irregular-shaped void in your heart that only he could fit in. Nights were filled of him. His voice. His eyes. His hands. The curve of his nose and the coves of his lips. 
His voice was made of tender summers. His eyes were liquid gold.
You saw him. You truly, truly saw him. Not the evascent shell of the perfect warrior or son made of stone. 
You saw him in the bleak day and in the night. When reality rivaled your thoughts of him, when the warmth of his touch seemed ephemeral, the invisible interstellar you swore was not a figment of your fantasies. You settled yourself from afar. Sullied yourself with stains of shame from the secrets you kept from him. The thousands of words you harbored, right next to the stars you swore you would steal for him.
This unrepeatable pattern became tiring, something you yearned to touch but your hands couldnt reach.
To tug on the silver string that dangled from this disguise he wore. This mask. This ruse of your heart.
He was to find the perfect mate. The perfect woman, A women to be the closest to an eywa incarnate. That wasn’t you. That could never be you.
Perfect with no edges. No uncalled for curves and no outward coves.
So you settled once again with the itching of your palms and the aching of your heart.
He was not yours.
Distance became a familiarity because distance was safe. 
There was a time where the itching in your palmsd for his. Now, his had felt hollow as it held yours now.
Grief was a funny thing.
You stood here, your skin feels more like a shell. Your mirror feels more like a window.
Staring at yourself with pity.
Such a weak thing she is.
Sobbing.
What once was warmth and abundant is now hollow and overcast by anguish.
You start to resonate with the corpses that once rested in your line of sight before the roots of the tree engulfed them.
Why is it that the sunlight denies you shelter?
Why must your whole become hollow? The ashes of what it once was line a new path. 
Is the sun falling? Have the stars collapsed? Will anyone catch them for you?
What is this? This pain? This agony? Why must it overcast your morals? Your rationality of peace? This homage harbors the resdiual of what little warmth is salvaged from this sunset of black. 
You feel the merciless fire in your veins. You want revenge. The cage of a Phoenix becomes an eternity of warmth. 
Even with neteyam at your side, the stars are falling. And the sunlight feels cold.
⋆。☁︎。⋆。 ☾ 。⋆⋆⋆。☁︎。⋆。 ☾ 。⋆⋆⋆。☁︎。⋆。 ☾ 。⋆⋆⋆。☁︎。⋆。 ☾ 。⋆⋆
Later that evening, the clan settled after Jake announced that his clan had to relocate to the Hallelujah mountains, where everyone would rebuild a stronghold and dwell with the loyal humans. To avoid any more bloodshed, Where the humans couldn't find you.
 You sat in the Sully’s Marui, Neytiri behind you as you sat infront of the fire.
She rebraided your hair. You had mo’at and kiri unbraided for the funeral. Neytiri’s soft humming soothes you a bit, but your hands haven’t ceased their small tremors of shaking.
She gently runs her hands through your locks, placing a few beads on each braid.
Th hut is silent, Neteyam sits in the corner, he hasn’t spoken since after the funeral.
Tuk perches on Jakes lap asleep, Kiri at your side, rubbing your back. Lo’ak sat on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder.
“My sweet”
Neytiri’s melodic whisper whisked through the heavy gray.
“We leave in a few days time, at first light for our new home,”
She paused, her thought lingering behind a wall of hesitation, she exchanges a look with Jake, who nods at her, gently taking tuk off his lap for a moment,
“Y/n, hon, with what's occurred..-”
He waved one hand around, flicking his wrist against the air to try and demonstrate some kind of invisible concept.
But you know he was referring to your parents deaths.
“We don’t think you should be alone.” Jake adds. Neteyam nods with his dad’s words, attempting to gain some kind of partaking in this conversation without speaking.
Neytiri rests her hand on your shoulder, making Lo’ak lift his head to peer at you. 
“What are you saying?”
It comes out as a breath, the unveiled remnants of the traumatic experience you had endured still fresh on your still-processing mind.
“Ma yawntu…We want you to stay with us when we settle in our new home. To stay in our home. We can take care of you.”
The warmth of the fire feels pale for a moment. I’ts vulnerability. Its shallow. Yet, Its deep, and dark, and you can’t see the bottom. Your’e left unguarded for a moment. 
“I’ll be fine on my own-“
You pause when you realize how hoarse your voice sounds. you clear your throat, your gaze meeting Jake’s. His eyes soften a you an you can tell its pity. Something you would have considered affection becomes an insult. A weakness.
“I’ll be okay. I’m not helpless. I can provide for myself.”
Jake sighs and shakes his head, his words calm.
“Y/n. I know you are strong. Hell, you’re one of the strongest i know, kid. But This is not something we’re going to let you carry alone, I made-”
He pauses, taking a breath, his head tilting down a bit and his eyes squeezing shut before he raises his head to continue.
“I made a promise. To the people. To the clan. To keep everyone safe. And to your parents, we would look out for you if anything ever happened.”
The lump in your throat is dry as you swallow.
Neytiri kisses your head gently.
“Ma yawntu, we will look after you..we will guide you on this path.”
She gently guides you to look at her bow in the corner.
“My father. He gave me that bow as he laid dying.”
The air becomes thick, even the moonlight seems to freeze with its slow creeping up the wall. 
The only sound is the soft 3-beat melody of Tu’ks soft breathing as she sleeps, but her heavy eyes flutter open now and then as she nuzzles into jakes side.
Neytiri squeezes her hand on your shoulder to keep her voice from breaking, her chest tightening.
“He told me to protect the people.”
The pain in her voice breaks through the cracks in the walls that kept the shadows out, cages that kept the anger in.
“I owed your mother my life. I could not protect Zensira. 
I have let the demons take another from me.”
The red in her voice stained the shadows behind ehr words, the sharp syllables in ‘demons’ evident, Kiri closed her eyes and winced at her mothers words, still holding your hand.
She took a breath and gazed at you.
“But yawntu, i will not let them take you. I will protect you. You have always been one of my own at heart. The skyships will not take that from us.
The familiar sting you felt only a few hours ago returned to your eyes along with the ache in your chest.
Jake nodded.
“We can be stronger together, Y/n. Let us look after you.”
The wisp of shallow aches still burn behind your heart but you nod, silently.
Lo’ak smiles in an attempt to lighten the load.
“Just like old times, sis. We used to have sleepovers all the time, now we get to have them every day.”
Neytiri was about to scold Lo’ak for his bluntness until she heard you chuckle,
Tuk’s big eyes blinked open as her tired voice mumbled.
“Now you can play with me more..and braid my hair..”
She mumbes as she smiles to herself. Jake chuckles and ruffles her short braids.
Kiri squeezes your hand and Neteyam’s gaze hasn’t left you since the beginning of the conversation.
You took a walk that night, creeping around the hammocks of the sleeping sully family as you quietly ventured outside the small camp village.
You stand under a tree, the moonlight leaks through the canopy as you start to count the stars. You wondered how the sky and the heavens could still be standing when your whole world had collapsed around you just earlier that day.
When you were small your mother would tell you not to pull on the loose thread of her tapestries she wove. Because the more you pull, the faster it will fall apart.
Thats how you felt. One loose string being mercilessly tugged and then all the colors were fading away, you chased them, you chased them along with the falling stars but no one caught them for you.
Your heart has been thieved. Your light has been stolen.
Sin and soul seem to have a war under your skin, and the soft lllabies of the creatures of your planet seem to have more of a shriek-like quality.
Why did the colors go away? 
Did they chase you to the place i cannot follow when you went away?
“Y/n.”
You jump slightly, the chill in the pale air becoming a prick of awarness as you reach for the knife on your hip, turning around quikcly.
Neteyam stands before you, his wooded-honeyed scent fills your nose, you blink as a breath of his name leaves your lips.
“Neteyam-
Oh Neteyam you scared me, you asshole.”
Usually he would have laughed. But not today, not with the shadow that looms.
He gently touches your arm.
“I’m sorry, truly-
What are you doing awake? Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did something-
Did someone-”
You laugh at him. But its bitter and its thin. Its forced.
“For eywas sake why does everyone think i am the weak link suddenly-
I am fine. Stop looking at me like i am wounded-”
Neteyam cuts you off.
“Y/n, i would never think such a thing about you, ever. You know this. I want you safe, you can’t expect me not to be concerned when you wonder off in the middle of the night, syulang”
The nickname from whe you were children is a warm familiarity at the least.
You huff and lean against the tree bark.
“I just needed air.”
Its small and muttered.
A shaky breath left your lips.
“I’m trying to find ways to endure my own thoughts.”
Neteyams eyes soften as he steps forward, he gently takes a place y beside you, back against the tree as he stands next to you. Your hand brushes his, but your fingers refuse to interlace.
The two of you stared up at the stars for a moment.
“Teyam?
“Yes?”
“Do you think it’s ungrateful to feel as if you have nothing, even when others orrond you with love and promises?”  
“I’m not sure I follow…”
“Is it wrong to feel alone when your in the arms of others?”
As it falls into place for neteyam, he gazes at you as if you were a mystery in the moonlight.
He tries to see past your walls, to place himself in your shadow.
 He glances at you, then back up at the sky.
“No. It’s not ungrateful. I think we’re all born with some sort of circle around us.”
You pause for a moment, looking over at him.
“A circle?”
He nods.
“A circle. The people we love and care for? the people we would do anything for? The people who make our home, they all belong inside our circle.
My father, my mother, Lo’ak, Tuk, Kiri, they're all a part of my circle.”
He pauses for a moment, his tail swishing behind him.
“And…you are too. You’re apart of my circle, Y/n.”
You gaze at him and he withers under your eyes, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his necklace.
After a moment, he speaks again.
“I can’t imagine loosing people in that circle…things must become so…empty. As if the world seems too small all of the sudden.
So no, it’s not selfish to feel alone when that circle is gone.”
His words spark comfort. The hollowness within your palm seems less heavy.
“Thank you.”
You whisper, and he nods at you.
“You don’t have to be alone, y/n. My family…when they spoke to you tonight about staying with us when we travel to the mountains, it was not because there’s a need to replace what you once had. Y/n, we want you to embrace this new circle-“
“What if I’m not ready to find a new circle?”
The vehement tone you were bearning stunned neteyam for a moment.
“Your mother was right. The sky people will take, and they will kill, and they will hunt, until everything under the sky of pandora is either dead or theirs..”
Your eyes hardened for a moment and Neteyam was still as he took in your words.
You look up at the moon once more; taking a breath.
“I do not wish to fear them anymore, Neteyam.
I want them to be the ones who fear us.”
There was a new found devotion in your heart.
A bitter song of  fire and desolation.
Vengeance.
Each note a new mockery of blood and ash. Every chorus an unfamiliar revelry of hunger.
That night, under the fallen stars and the cold moonlight, the inextinguishable plotted purpose was born within you.
Neteyam sighed; his gaze fitting back to the moon.
“And so you will..”
No. 
Don’t. 
I don’t want to loose you in the fire.
But he didn’t dare speak it aloud.
After a moment, he spoke again.
“I have something for you.”
He felt his heart flutter when your eyes met his.
He reached into the pocket of his loincloth.
“It was a gift I planned on giving during the ceremony.”
You felt twitch of anguish as you recalled the memory.
“You already contributed your gift..you gave that armband my father taught you how to weave.”
He gave you a tender look. The kind whispered in the solace of summer and soft secrets.
“It is for you. Not for your loss.”
His words unclouded a new warmth in your chest.
For a moment, your anger ceased to simmer.
“I made this, for you a long while ago..but I never found the right time to give it to you.
Then..the incident happened and I knew it wasn’t a good time..I was planning on giving it to you on this day..but the plans changed.”
He opened his palm to reveal a small carved wooden spiral, polished and smooth. 3 strings with little charming dangling.
The first charm was 2 purple colored crystal, the second was a wooden bead that wore a Maude color, with a tree carved on it, the last was a stack of small purple beads with marbled colors.
He placed it gently in the palm of your hand, and you cradled it with such delicacy.
“Oh it’s beautiful…”
Your breath truly caught itself in his trap.
“When we were young your mother made you that necklace out of those crystals and small jeweled beads, the one she found in the river?..you were so happy to wear something so colorful..I remember the purple ones were your favorite. You always placed them so that they were in the middle. I’d thought I’d add them as a small bonus.”
He smiled at the memory.
You hugged him, your cheek pressed against his chest, he was stunned for a moment but hugged you back, you looked up at him and your breath caught for a moment, your faces mere inches apart.
You both Depart slightly and avert your eyes.
“Thank you. It’s lovely, Neteyam.”
You said softly, he nodded and smiled at you.
“The spiral suits you. Even now with this great loss you bear. It’s a connection. Even to those who are no longer with us.”
You smiled at him back, and the two of you started to walk back to the village.
How could you not see it? The spiral. A sign of support? Of friendship? Of trust?
No my dear Y/n.
It was how he felt like his soul was steadily orbiting around you. Thoughts of you never ended.
His circle.
His spiral.
You were the center.
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 
Years later….(y/n is now 18.)
(her code name is “X” neteyam’s name through comms is canonically ‘pathfinder’)
Jake yipped to Neytiri as she raised her bow and looked over her shoulder.
Her face is adorned with war paint, much like yours. She had painted you for the day. Red, purple, blue, the colors of your ikran worn proudly like a hyde of victory.
“Remember the plan.”
Jake says through his throat comms, his volume fighting the wind. You held your two fingers to the small mic on your neck so you could hear through your earpiece.
“Neytiri and I will strike from above, X, you're my Archer. I want you to hit em’ quick and move out fast. Eagle Eye, pathfinder, you two are spotters. Do not engage in close range, or air combat, understood?”
You heard lo’ak groan through his comm.
“Bro, why does Y/n get to have all the fun!?”
You felt a tinge of pride. Knowing you were Jake’s right hand out in the field. Higher ranked than either of his son’s. A skilled Archer. 
“Because I'm older and I have more fun.”
You quipped back, unable to hide the smile in your voice.
“Ya know what'd be fun? If you were to crash straight into one of those mountains and fall in your cocky as-”
“Both of you! No arguing on the comms!”
You refocused as the smell of ash and metal was fast approaching. YOu and the war party arrive on the scene right on time
You flew up above the train tracks and watched as the vehicle crashed into a collision of smoke and ash on the derailed tracks.  The air scorched to sting your flesh with an uncomfortable heat.
Neytiri let out a ululating sound to signal to you as she flew down to help Jake. Behind you were 3 smaller aircrafts. 
You grabbed your bow from the side saddle, mentally commanding your ikran to dive.
Everyone who witnessed Y/n fight swore the wind under her ikran’s wings were grazed with fire.
She was made of red-ribboned rainstorms in a scarlet blaze of uncharted wind and wildflowers.
For a moment it’s all too real. The encore of your arrows, the satisfying stretch of your bow string, Like the last note before the chorus. You dive down, sliding down the neck of your Ikran ever so slightly as the wind stings your cheeks, the sunlight strong. You draw back, a loud call escaping your throat, and the arrow flies.
Its in a blink of an eye the cockpit window is shattered, the pilot now sporting an arrow of yours through his neck as the metal gray bird ceases it’s flight and collapses in a cloud of smoke and sulfur.
You’d usually be celebrating if two bastards weren't behind you.
You grasp two arrows this time, the long wooden shaft in your clutch as you line them up properly for the next shot. 
The pilots pathetically attempt to surf with the wind beneath you, scattering your duo targets into far off spots.
Thats the thing about humans. They tiptoed on the wind as if it was uneven ground. Na’vi warriors like you danced upon airstorms and harsh rains. A swirling spiral of helix grazes your skin as you feel one of their shots fly past you the heat just missing your ikran,
You soothe him before regaining your position, you mentally make a new command to your ikran.
‘Drop’
In a moment, the settled feeling of security that once shaved your bones seems to wither away.
Your ikran free falls, rolling against the wind that whips and wails. Your chest heaves as you ready your shot, the reverberation from your bowstring sings to your fingers as the two arrows fly, hitting both pilots as your irkan regains a flying position instead of a falling one, all adrift in a fleeting shot.
The aircrafts fall together, crashing against the ground.
The ground team jake had arranged comes into view frm the side forest clearing, all watching in awe as if you were the embodiment of phoenix.
They raised their bows and let out warcalls, you pridefully returned, raising your bow above your head and releasing a war call of your own.
Neteyam watched from afar. His ikran synced with Lo’aks as they circled the scene below, na’vi led by Norm gathering all the weapons they could.
But he couldnt let himself focus on the world below when all he could see was the woman made of exquisite inferno and grace was scorching the sky with her blaze.
Neteyam felt the wind brisk through his braids as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight in hopes to catch another glimpse of you.
The light of day made you seem grazed with gold that brushed the cobalt hues.
He watched as you shot down the aircrafts, he watched you shoot two arrows.
To Neteyam, you were made of fire.
Remnants of moonlight and high-tided sea storms. A hellish radiance and a scarlet soul.
Neteyam remembered the night he saw the flame embed itself in your soul. The night he gifted you that carving that was now a charm that rested tied to the long expanse of your bow.
He hated it. How inconsolable he feared you were, how he feared this new alit flame would burn his touch away from you. Useless was an understatement, of how he felt that night, even the stars above refused to guide him down teh right path.
He knew you were angry.
He was angry too.
He wanted to fight just like you did. His hatred for these sky demons simmered beneath his skin. He was a warrior. He wanted to fight next to you and his father. He was a protector of the people.
He had seen what they had taken from his home, from his parents, his family, from you.
At first, he thought it was jealousy.
The way Jake encrusted you to be his main archer. To shoot down sky ships.
Neteyam? He wasn’t anywhere near the fighting. Not anywhere near you.
He knew his father thought him and Lo’ak were “too important” to be fighting.
Jake was trying to salvage the sons made of stone before the heat of war can melt the rock.
Were you better than him?
Stronger than him?
Why did his father trust you more than he trusted his eldest?
As he watches you now, the archer who had her arrowhead aimed at his heart from day 1.
He knows its love. It must be.
It keeps him awake at night. The devoured feeling that gnaws at his heart. You were the center of his sky in all your celestial glory and he wished he would have gifted you the entire universe but instead he gave you that carved spiral.
He loved you because where other struggled to see in the dark you danced with dusk. You were a paradox. Detached, but focused. Because you somehow made the most dissolute and reckless seem graceful. You were real. Imperfect. Unconfined hunger bordered by each beautiful bruise blemish and scar that covered your skin. 
You haunted him.
“Bro!”
And funny enough, it seems eywa created little brothers for a different kind of haunting.
Neteyams eyes flickered to where Lo’ak circled around him on his ikran.
The cold colors tattered across the ikrans purple and blue skin, trapping the yellow large speckles of shapes of the banshee’s skin.
Lo’ak’s echoes dwindle in the gust of wind, the war paint he wore proudly on either side of his face, Neteyam had watched Y/n paint Lo’ak after his begging back at high camp.
Something about Lo’aks smile in situations like these always found ways to disquiet Neteyam.
His eyebrows hover above his eyes as his fangs bare through his smile.
“Bro! We have got to get down there!”
Neteyam shakes his head, a warning look traces his features.
“No way! Dad will skin us!”
Lo’ak shakes his head, the wind uplifting his braids as he dives.
“C’mon! Don’t be a wuss!”
The flushed first notes of an uncertain heartbeat ablaze neteyam’s mind as he dives as well.
“Shit! Lo’ak! Get back you dumbass!”
Lo’ak dived blow into the musk of what might as well be no man’s land. The air wailed and whipped around him as he hopped off his Ikran. Yanking his kuru from his banshees and running towards the chaos in question.
He looked over his shoulder to see Neteyam following suit. He laughed, waving his hand through the dust and smoke.
“C‘mom bro!”
“Lo’ak!”
“Lo’ak come back!”
Lo’ak faltered momentarily when he saw Norm directing some navi’s into a brigade to gather all the weapons from the train’s supply cart. Swiftly swerving to stay out of the dream walkers sight, he joined the forming crowd where around where Tarsem had just opened a new cart of guns.
“Here boy- take this weapon! Go!”
Lo’ak let put a silly war cry and puffed up his chest,
Neteyam came to a halt.
“Lo’ak, you don’t even know how to use it.”
Lo’ak waved the gun around like it was weightless, handling it like one of Tuk’s toys.
“Nah bro. Dad taught me!”
Neteyam rolled his eyes, done with Lo’aks bullshit.
“I’m sure he did-
Let’s go-“
He grabbed lo’aks bicep but Lo’ak shrugged him off.
“Or maybe I’ll just be like y/n and shoot down some sky demons!”
Above the clouds, you circled the ensuing hustle below. Watching the brigades, monitoring the ground team. Your bow at the ready in its position on your saddle sheath.
And then you saw them.
“Son of a bitch!”
You hissed quietly, swiftily diving down to where the duo of your headache embodied currently argued about something stupid.
Lo’ak smiled as he saw you, but it faded as he watched the shadow of your Ikran (which was larger than the average Ikran, granted)
Loom over the both as you hopped down, glaring at them.
“What are you two shitheads doing here!?”
The feathers on your raid top gently shook in the breeze, a few of your beads clanking together in your braids as you made your descend.
Neteyam seemed to straighten, but his breath seemed to form a blockade for his own voice.
Maybe it was the way the brightly covered beads and feathers of your top accentuated your skin. Or maybe it was the way the fathers in your braids matched your waist beads Kiri had made you.
Maybe it was the way your loincloth seemed a bit more perfect than usual as it hugged your hips.
Maybe it was the way the red, blue, and purple war paint on your face outlined your eyes like wings and shed down your cheeks like tears, sorrowed in starlight for you had just been warrior of the wind.
I guess we’ll never know.
Lo’ak spoke for him.
“We wanted to help! C’mon, we have the ground team to be spotters! They don’t need us! I’ve been practicing the trick you taught me with the bow, just let us fly with you- we promise we’ll-“
You shot Lo’ak down before the words flooded further, the scarlet hues ablazed and begged for nothing but obedience in your voice.
“Kehe! You will do nothing-! Go back to your post. Both of you. Now!”
You swatted Lo’ak with your bow, hissing at him, Neteyam tried to drag Lo’ak away.
“Bro let’s go!-“
The sound of heavy mechanical whirring instilled the heightening of your awareness in the moment, your ears pining back as you saw the larger ship approach.
“Gun ship inbound!”
Jake shouted, you saw neytiri hiss and take off on her Ikran.
“Shit! Run!” You cursed, shoving Lo’ak and Neteyam in the opposite direction and making a break away from the approaching enemy.
As it would seem time was not in your favor, your Ikran had already been spooked away by the blast, Neteyam grabbed your hand before you could run, 
“Come with us, now!
Go-!”
He shoved Lo’ak ahead of him as they ran, Neteyam’s hand clutching yours as you kept pace with the two.
The 3 of you climbed over the derailed debris, Neteyam and you scaling the bright yellow RDA logo train doors,
“Bro come on!” Lo’ak called.
A flash of light invaded your vision, the scorching heat of the blast incircled you.
You feel Neteyam attempt to reach for you, but instead all you feel is a tug on your wrist as your senses start to numb. 
Your airborn for a moment, then your body collides with the uneven ground, the rocky surface below.
You groan, your vision blurring. The embers and ash clash against your skin in the harsh sting of the hot air. 
You winced in pain as the adrenaline started it’s course of abandonment. The aching sensation swallows your body. 
Scarlet etched its way in a jagged scratch on your side. The world seemed to darkn as the scarlet hues slowly faded to black. The sky’s golden and blue game of chance changes its rules as your eyelids become heavy.
Neteyam’s eyes shoot open as his vision readjusts itself clearly.
Lo’ak is above him, shaking him awake. Panic in the half-notes of his jagged breaths.
“Bro!? Bro! C’mon, get up we gotta go!”
Neteyam stands to his feet, groaning, but quickly regaining his senses.
He looked down at his hand to see where something small and beaded made its home in his clutch.
A bracelet?
Your bracelet.
It hit Neteyam like a tidal wave.
“Shit! Y/n-“
Neteyam tried to run past when his body collided with a taller one, Jake stood looming over his son’s, placing one hand on each of their shoulders “Hey! Easy, easy, where’s Y/n?! Are you hurt?!”
Neteyam tried to speak but all it was met with is stuttered breaths and a poor panicked exclamation.
“That way! I meant to grab her arm and I grabbed this instead-
The blast-“
Jake didn’t hesitate as he started running in the direction you were in, Lo’ak seemingly still in shock and Neteyam following his father without missing a beat,
“Stay behind boy! Get your brother out of here!”
“But sir-“
“That’s a direct order!”
Norm, quickly dragged Neteyam and lo’ak away to the sidelines of the forest to make their quick escape.
The sound of a screech flooded your ears, the footseps barely audible over the smoke and wind.
“Y/n! Oh child, Eywa please no.” 
You reached for your knife with the last ounce of motor control you could muster, before a hand gently lifted you on your back, the sun’s blinding silver line halo of heat scorched your eyes, you hissed and winced in pain.
The hands were familiar, it calmed you rather quickly.
You knew it was neytiri when the blurry shape of gray purple and green, faintly recognizable as her bone collared-top.
You groaned, the raw rushes of pain encased your vision.
“I’m sorry-”
You mumbled.
“Shh. No apologies, my dear girl. Come, we must go. Quickly.”
The last thing you remember is the gently shrill of her Ikran and her hand around your waist was she settled you in front of her on her ikran. The Scarlet hue no painted the wind.
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 
When you awake, its to the sound of herbs grinding soflty in a boil. The reverberations of the grinding tool against the small wooden bowl make your ears twitch.
Your vision settles. Mo’at sits infornt of the small fire in the tsahiks tent, Tuktirey by her side.
Her big eyes blinking at her grandmother’s handy-work, her much smaller tail swishing to the beat of each sound.
You sat up slowly, with a small wince. But the pain was significantly better.
Tuk gasps
“Y/n! You're alive!”
She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her little head into your chest. You smile at the smaller girls, roughly a few of her braids, kissing the top of her head.
“of course I’m alive, yawntu! It would take a million Sky People to take me out.”
You teasingly mocked the position of an archer, holding a pretend bow and arrow made out of thin air as Tuk laughed.
Mo’at gently cleared her throat, making her way to you as she placed a hand on your shoulder.
“ Child, your wounds were deep, but they shall heal quickly with the salve. Kiri shall be back with more herbs soon. But please rest, simply until the bandages are removed.”
You nodded greatfully, squeezing her hand in a gesture of thank you.
She was the closest thing you would have to a grandmother, even before your parents began their journey with Eywa. You never got to meet your actual grandparents. They died in the attack on hometree. The only memory you had of them was through the clans' stories.
You wore a choker that was strung with river pearls and brown leather, a small navy-blue colored stone in the middle. A treasured piece your grandmother once wore.
Tuk snuggled up to you in the hammock, and you gently rubbed her back.
A soft rustling made your ears perk up when Kiri slipped through the tent flap with a basket of herbs.
“Tsmuke, (sister)
You are awake.”
Her expression softened, as if tensed up since the moment you returned unconscious. It probably was.
She handed the herbs to Mo’at and kneeled at your side, gently brushing a few of your braids away from your face.
“How are you feeling? Better? I used yalna bark when grandmother wasn’t looking. Was it Lo’ak again? It’s always Neteyam getting in trouble and you getting hurt when that sxkwang gets bright ideas-“
You gently stopped her mid rant. Holding her hand gently to your chest.
“I am fine, Kiri. A few scratches and bruises has never done much harm.”
She chuckled softly, standing back to her feet to assist Mo’at with the rest of the preparations for other wounded warriors.
As the hours passed, and the sun started to set, Kiri had to drag Tuktirey off to bed and Mo’at left the tent for the night. Leaving you alone to find sleep.
Mo’at had insisted you sleep in the Tsahik’ s tent tonight. Get some extra rest.
You didn’t argue. It was better than sharing a hammock with Lo’ak. The boy snored more than what you were almost certain was normal.
It was an understatement to say you nearly killed someone when you heard the tent flap rustle. You jumped, instinctly reaching for your knife.
It was well after hours.
Everyone should be asleep.
Who was it? Were you followed when you left the train?
Was it a sky demon? An animal?
You slowly felt your heart steady once again when you saw a small pale figure enter your tent, the small glimmer of his mask dances in the firelight. Lo’ak is behind him, looking less hyper than usual. Instead, a subtle tinge of gray flickered past his eyes, but it quickly gilded itself to green and gold once it settled on your form. He released a breath of relief and spider smiled.
“See? I told you she was okay.”
It took you a moment to realize that Lo’ak was worried about you.
You gave him a small smile opening your one arm that wasn’t aching, and he slipped himself under it, sitting next to you in the hammock, resting his head on your shoulder.
Lo’ak was your best friend. But really, he was so much more than that.
He was your family. Your ride-or-die.
Your right hand.
It made you feel a bit guilty, that Lo’ak seemed to prefer you over Neteyam sometimes.
Lo’ak wanted you to be his teacher when it came to his archery training and sparring. Lo’ak wanted it to be you who he went on hunts with.
Yet again, he also only lets you braid his hair because apparently neytiri pulls too hard and Neteyam doesn’t know how to tie them off properly.
Spider was a bit of a different case.
As you grew older, you realized how much you envied your motehrs sense of lightness.
Her entire being seemed to be made of golden hour gardens and softly whispered summers.
She was strong. The strongest woman you knew.
But she was kind.
She wasn’t like Neytiri in the sense that she resented all humans.
Your mother always felt a sense of protectiveness over Spider. A small, pale boy who used his heart instead of brain, chasing shimmyflys and tripping over vines that were larger than him. She welcomed him into her circle. She shielded him from the storms of strange staring and pesky fears.
Your mother always cared for Spider. Helped him re-twist his locs and make him new loincloths and hair beads. Some of your earliest memories were you and spider playing with the small carved toys in your family’s tent, or giggling after dark under the blankets after your father told you both to go to sleep.
She argued when spider had to go back to his foster family, and ended up making bargains with him to stay overnight every few days.
You’re almost positive it’s the only motherly love spider has ever known.
He cried when your mother died. 
You think he might have cried more than you did.
Sobbed for days with you, and it brought you closer together.
You smiled as Lo’ak fidgeted with one of the bracelets on your wrist.
When you were about 8, Lo’ak was 7, spider was 9, your mother carved you these special beads for the three of you to use.
You three decided to make bracelets and your father helped you string them together, all collecting charms and gifting them to one another to add.
The two biggest stones were carved river crystal the two boys collected, Lo’ak rolled the beads between his two extra fingers, sporting a bracelet of his own you and spider made him.
“So, I heard you got your ass kicked.”
Spider snickered. Sitting down in front of you.
You whacked him with your tail.
“Fuck off. Those sky demons ate my arrows.”
Spider groaned, 
“I’m so pissed. I heard you fell down in a explosion and ate shit-
And now one took a picture for me!” 
Lo’ak threw and arm around your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh yeah. And her Romeo was panicking because he didn’t save her in time”
You flushed, shoving him away.
Spider laughed, standing up.
“I can only imagine-“
He cleared his throat, before making his voice go an obnoxious pitch higher, twirling his locs around his fingers and batting his eyes, mimcmking what was supposed to be you.
“Oh Neteyam! My big strong warrior man! Come save me!”
You hissed in annoyance, but couldn’t help but bite back laughter at the back of your throat.
Lo’ak stood to his feet, puffing up his chest and taking his braid out of the way he tied them back, letting them hang, deepening his voice and stomping towards spider, dramatically holding him in his arms as spider collapsed with a loud rehearsed sigh.
Lo’aks Neteyam imitation sent you over the edge, you were now cackling and had rolled out of your hammock.
“I’ll save you from the demon ships with my bow and arrow!”
Lo’ak, you, and spider all break into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground. Lo’ak steadying himself by burying his face in your shoulder as spider banged his fist on the ground, finally, as the laughter died down, the three of you stared at the top of the tent, out of breath, the only sound being the gentle wheezing endnotes of your breaths.
“Glad you kicked some ass today. Those fucking RDA pilots didn’t stand a chance against you and that bow of yours.”
Spider whispered. Nudging your shoulder gently.
You smiled at him, Lo’ak squished in between you.
The three of you said your goodnight s, and you watched the two missing parts of your circle leave the tent before they could get caught after lights out.
You nestled back into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling.
The aching in your arms hasn’t completely vanished it’s fortification of pain in your shoulder.
You gently rub circles around the small carved spiral you untied from the long shaft of your bow when spider dragged it inside.
You played with the small crystals and the beads, gently humming to yourself.
Your fingers traced along the shape, Neteyams eyes invaded your mind.
It was fascinating, really. How a warrior such as yourself had won today's battle and yet the one thing you truly yearned for was still not within your grasp.
It hurts sometimes, to think about how beautiful he was.
The way his irises encompassed golden hour in all its starlight sessions.
The air was thicker in the mountains like this, up here in high camp. Perhaps that’s why the sweltering residual warmth that rippled across your skin like lillies to a pond every time you thought of him
You wondered if he tasted like the sun. Sweet, possibly bitter. Bleak and addicting, such a delicacy deserved to never touch your lips.
Alas the stars did not align for you.
Not tonight.
You trace the spiral one last time before letting your eyes flutter closed.
Your tail flicked as you heard yet another rustling.
The sound of footsteps, slightly heavier than last time.
You groaned.
“Spider did you forget something again?..”
When no answer was heard you grumbled. Standing to your feet and untying the tent flap, only to be met with two two golden hour orbs that had just plagued your mind.
“”Neteyam?..”
authors note:
I’m finally done! I haven’t slept in two days but I’m finished. I can’t decided whether I like the way this turned out but I LOVE some of the smaller little details. Y/n is such a badass and she’s serving left and right. We love to see it 😩👏 this first one was a lil angsty but I PROMISE y’all, this series is NOT angst. I’ve got a ton of stuff planned. I’m thinking maybe a little bit of jealous Neteyam? Some humor? Spider and Lo’ak being the captain of the ship? Mo’at being a sassy Granmda? Maybe some sister bonding with Kiri? AHHH IM SO HYPED. I, about to pass out and I can’t feel my fingers but that’s it for now! Stay tuned for part 2 🏹
-Sol
Jan 2024
“Virago” series, chp. 1.
Taglist:
@plooto
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thegreymarveljedi · 2 months ago
Text
He’ll Be Home Soon
(Echo x reader)
This idea came to me while at a family gathering. I was just daydreaming and whatever and I thought of this idea and ran with it. This is probably one of the first fics in a while that I’m actually very proud of. It took a few weeks but it feels good to get my motivation back and with a few extra ideas from others on how to keep my works from getting deleted again (thank you @techhasmjolnir , @isthereanechoinhere96 @inkstainedhandswithrings ) I’m back for the new year with a few good stories coming out!
This story takes place starting just before Star Wars the clone wars Season 3 Episode 18 (I am so so sorry lol). I hope you all enjoy this!
(Also, last minute add but divider is done by @stars-n-spice )
Warnings: ANGSTTT, major character ‘death’, ‘5’ stages of grief, mentions of blood, concussion, denial, delusions, mentions of anxiety, hurt/ eventual comfort, tears from many people, fluff, mentions of loneliness/ introvert, insecure Echo, happy ending
Words: 10.6k (Way more than I thought lol)
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(Y/N) stood with Echo at the front door of their apartment, watching as he fixed the rest of his armour. She helped where she could, passing him pieces and fixing others that were crooked. He smiled at her as he finished fixing his armour, grabbing his helmet and securing it under his arm.
“I’ll be home before you know it mesh’la. We’re only ment to be gone for 7 rotations minimum and 10 rotations maximum. In and out is what the job is,” he said, looking down at (Y/N) with eyes that conveyed so much confidence and love. Even with his confidence she couldn’t shake her worry, the war weighing on her in so many ways. She was worried for his life more than her own and she wanted so much to join the mission, to ensure he came home to her but she knew it was impossible to convince the council of it.
“I know Echo. But I have a really bad feeling about this mission,” (Y/N) said, placing one of her hands on his chest and the other finding it’s way to his cheek, the stubble on his cheeks tickling her palm, “Just stick close to Fives please? And don’t take any unnecessary risks okay?” She pleaded even while knowing full well that it was futile. She knew Echo would be careful but she also knew that he was a soldier who would do whatever it took to complete the mission.
“With General Skywalker, there’s always risks,” he chuckled, though the face (Y/N) gave him must have made him rethink his joking manner.
“I know that,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the mention of her best friend in the order. (Y/N) had worked with the 501st many times and she knew that Anakin could be reckless with his actions. But she also knew how much he cared for his men, even if he took unnecessary risks. Echo looked at her with a soft smile, his gloved hand coming up to take hold of her own that still rested on his cheek.
“I’m serious Echo. Don’t do anything you shouldn’t do. I need you to come home to me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke those word’s, her emotions spilling over. As a Jedi, attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side as master Yoda always said. But (Y/N) liked to think that her relationship with Echo was different. She didn’t feel any darkest in her heart or anger when he was gone, all she felt for him was love and the occasional worry. But I guess that worry turned to fear in this case and she knew that master Yoda would frown upon this revelation.
“I will cyar’ika, I promise.” Echo snapped her out of her thoughts, his words touching her heart and easing her mind even if only a little. (Y/N) stared at her handsome arc trooper, his hazel eyes deep pools of wonder that she could admire for hours, his lips so kissable and soft, pulled into an affectionate smile that she wished would never leave. His hair was cut in accordance with regulations but still as soft and fluffy as his heart, the very soft waves tempting her to run her fingers through them. She refrained however, instead choosing to kiss his nose and tilt his head forward toward her own, resting their foreheads together.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” (Y/N) spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly at the thought of letting him go. She knew it was war times and that they had a fight to win, but that didn’t mean she liked it. It didn’t make parting with him any easier.
“I’d expect nothing less from you my dear,” Echo chuckled, his helmet falling from his hands as he wrapped her in his arms one last time. (Y/N) returned the embrace, determined to hold his warmth against her body for as long as she could before he really had to leave.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner kar’ta,” Echo whispered, his face buried in her neck as he breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of (Y/N)’s body soap. His hands found her hips, running his gloved palms up and down her sides as her arms remained locked around his neck. The press of his armour against her torso was painful but worth every moment, as long as he was in her arms.
“I love you too Echo. So so much. I always will,” (Y/N) replied just as quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. After another minute of holding one another his comm went off, the beeping of the device signalling that it was time for him to go.
She gave her beloved trooper one final squeeze, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes as she begrudgingly let him go. Echo smiled sadly at (Y/N) as she leaned down and retrieved his helmet, tucking it under his arm once again before bidding her a final goodbye. As the door opened to allow him to leave, he turned back to face his cyare once more and blew her a kiss, one that she caught and returned, her hands trembling slightly as she watched him leave.
“I’ll be home soon ner sarad. I promise,” he spoke one final time to her, his smile never leaving his face and the warm affection in his eyes conveying his love. She nodded as the door closed, cutting her off from the love of her life temporarily.
(Y/N) tried her best to hold the tears at bay, her emotions bubbling up and threatening to burst out in full force. She took some deep breathes, composing herself before she looked around the apartment, suddenly feeling so small and alone in the space meant for two. She cracked her neck and sighed, trying to think of everything else besides the handsome trooper who had just left her presence.
“It’s only 7 rotations at minimum. We’ve gone longer without each other. What’s the worst that could happen?”
~Time Skip~
Being on a meditative retreat was relaxing, time away from the fighting and the politics, not having to think about much of anything. It was peaceful, like it should be, even if (Y/N) was still a little worried about Echo. But once he returned, they could disappear off world together for the last week of the retreat, head to Naboo and just relax for a few days.
She smiled at the thought of it, thinking about how relaxing it would be to spend time with her love after he came home. It was 8 rotations ago that Echo and the others had left on their mission, the details of which were still classified to almost all besides the council and a few other veteran Jedi. All she knew was that Anakin and Obi-wan were leading a team to rescue Master Piell.
(Y/N) was snapped out of her thoughts when there was a knock at the door, the sounds firm and stern. She smiled giddily, thinking that it was her trooper coming home and wanting to surprise her. She smoothed out her robes and fixed her hair, ready to greet Echo after a long mission away. She walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, her large smile falling as she gazed upon two troopers she hadn’t expected to see.
“Rex, Fives what are you guys doing here? And where’s…” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and her heart stopped immediately when she noticed that Echo was nowhere to be found next to Fives. Her eyes darted between the two troopers, fear gripping her heart like vice, a cloud of darkness forming around her in the force.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Fives said, his helmet tucked under his arm which allowed her to see his face, eyes bloodshot and tear streaks staining his cheeks. (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, giving Fives a punch to his chest and gesturing for them both to come inside.
“N-no. Stop messing with me. This is another one of your stupid pranks right?” She laughed again, a very unpleasant sounding laugh leaving her lips as her eyes continued to dart between the Arc trooper and the clone captain who had yet to utter a word. The glare Fives sent (Y/N)’s way sent a shiver down her spine, his gaze intense and full of anger.
“I would never joke about this,” Fives hissed, taking a menacing step forward as tears began to gather in his eyes once more. Rex placed a firm hand on Fives’ chest, giving him a small push back and glaring at him. He shook his head, knowing that Fives was hurting but also knowing that (Y/N) had lost the love of her life. Fives realized his mistake and looked over Rex’s shoulder to the woman, eyes finding her horrified expression at the realization that they were telling the truth.
“Bu-but he can’t be. H-he promised me he’d come home.” She shook her head as the words fell from her lips, in disbelief at the prospect that her beloved Arc trooper had fallen in battle. Her knees felt weak, like they couldn’t support her weight any longer. (Y/N) eyes continued to dart between the men as she took a few steps back into her apartment, the space suddenly feeling even smaller than it did when Echo left.
“I’m- I’m so sorry (Y/N). But he’s gone,” Rex said, his voice that of a defeated captain who had just lost another brother. Her head continued to shake as Rex and Fives slowly walked into the apartment, the doors sliding shut behind them.
The men knew they were welcome in her home, having hosted them for many nights after a successful mission. This however, was a different monster entirely. Echo was gone and they were in mourning, (Y/N)’s own mind having an impossible time coming to terms with these revelations. She could feel the cloud of sadness growing, gripping her heart and taking over her senses.
Their eyes looked sad and genuine as they told (Y/N) what happened to her soldier, how bravely he fought and how tragic the mission was as a whole. She felt her heart crack as they continued to retell it, wanting them stop but knowing that, deep down, she needed to know. She felt like her legs would give out, the trembling getting more and more violent as their recounting of the mission went on. Fives had deposited himself at the dinning room table, his helmet long forgot by the front door as Rex stayed standing.
“N-no. Nonono.” (Y/N)’s words seemed so distant even to her own ears, stumbling over her feet as she continued to step back, trying her best to back away from the reality of this situation. She knew she was in denial, Rex and Fives’ presence telling her all she needed but it didn’t feel real. It felt like someone was pulling the world right out from under her feet, reaching into her chest and tearing a piece of her heart away. There was ringing, so loud and annoying, like an alarm in her ears that didn’t seem to stop.
“I’m deeply sorry vod’ika. He fought like a hero and died a hero,” whoever said that, their voice was distant to (Y/N)’s ears, the ringing intensifying tenfold her heart crumbled in her chest. She began hyperventilating, as if she was falling down a dark hole with no visible way out. She blindly reached for the counter in the kitchen, trying to find some kind of solid surface to keep her grounded.
“I-I-” words seemed to fail her, the world around her growing darker and darker as her knees began to give out. She couldn’t feel her lower half or even her fingers, her body failing her just as the words did.
“(Y/N)?” Rex asked, Fives perking up at the concern in the captains voice. He turned to look at (Y/N) and his eyes went wide, seeing her shake and stumble. He was on his feet and walking over to where she stood immediately, knowing that Echo would come back from the grave and shoot him if he let anything happen to his cyare.
“I-I can’t fe-feel my legs…” (Y/N) said, so quietly that both men almost missed what she said. Her vision went black, eyes rolling into the back of her head as the ground seemed to swallow her. Her consciousness came crashing down, the force around her swirling a deep purple. Her subconscious mind could feel her falling, fingers on the counter slipping off as her body came hurtling toward the hard surface of the floor.
“(Y/N)!” Fives yelped, catching her before she could hit the ground, but not before her head slammed into the counter, a loud thunk reverberating through the apartment. Rex was by her side in an instant as well, helping Fives to slowly bring her to the ground. Rex turned her over slowly to check on the spot where she hit her head, blood oozing from the wound.
He cursed and stood up, moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink as Fives quickly sent a message to Kix. Rex came back with the kit and a damp cloth, holding it against (Y/N)’s head to try and stop the bleeding.
“Let’s move her to the couch, carefully,” Rex said and Fives nodded, feeling quite guilty that they hadn’t told (Y/N) to sit down before they told her the tragic news. His mind went to his fallen twin, seeing his helmet lying there on the durasteel of the citadel landing pad. It was burnt, fried to a crisp from the explosion, but he had begged Ahsoka to use the force and bring it to them, needing to take the last part of his twin home.
“Comm Kix now.” Rex snapped Fives out of his thoughts, his voice somehow calm even with the current situation as they brought (Y/N) over to the couch to lay her down. Rex quickly placed down a few extra clean towels to stop the blood from seeping into the couch, not wanting to make (Y/N)’s apartment feel any more chilling.
“He’s already on his way,” Fives replied, his eyes downcast as he held (Y/N)’s hand. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to do so, (Y/N) accepting the small gesture of platonic affection whenever the boys came over after a mission. He held it gently, as if trying to ground them both and come to terms with the reality that his twin was gone. It was so hard to grasp, Fives struggling to understand how much this had effect (Y/N).
“Should we have waited to tell her?” The words fell from his lip before he could stop them, voice soft yet defeated. Rex took a moment to mull over Fives words, knowing that they were all grieving. But he hadn’t wanted to keep (Y/N) in the dark about this, especially when he knew she’d hear that they were home. It wasn’t right to keep this from her no matter how much he wanted to.
“No. It needed to be done now,” he said firmly, though his words lacked their usual confident conviction. He stared down at (Y/N), someone who had been a second in command to him many times, saved his and his brothers lives more times than he could count and always welcomed them into her home with open arms.
“But why?” Fives said quietly, looking to Rex with such sadness and despair written across his features.
“Because I don’t feel right lying to her. She doesn’t deserve that,” Rex said, his eyes turning to look at Fives before turning back to look at (Y/N). Her unconscious expression was unreadable, her face neutral even if the rest of her body was tense. Her skin had drained of some of its colour, once vibrant but now dimmed and dull. Rex turned back to Fives, watching the emotions pass along the Arc trooper’s face as he started at his twin’s cyare.
“I know you just lost your twin, Fives. But this is his Cyar’ika. Even if it hurts to shatter her world, she deserved to know that he went out like a hero,” Rex said, placing a hand on Fives shoulder to try and convey his thoughts to his Vod. Fives only nodded, not wanting to be reminded of such a tragic event. It was still fresh in his mind, that much was true, but for as long as he could, he wanted to just pretend it wasn’t real.
“I know Rex. It just…hurts. A lot,” Fives said, his voice cracking as the tears returned, the emotions no longer wanting to stay hidden behind the mask he had managed to put on. He removed his gloves, putting them down on the Caf table along with his chest plate and gauntlets.
“I know Fives. I know,” Rex said with a sigh, moving to do the same as Fives. They removed their armour silently, placing it neatly in piles by the door as they waited for Kix to arrive.
“Should we have given her the holo instead,” Fives said as he removed his belt and pulled the small device from one of the compartments. He remembered the moment that Echo had given him the holo tape, telling him that…
“If something happens to me, I need you to give this to (Y/N). She needs to hear what is on this and I need her to know that I love her.”
“I don’t know,” Rex’s shoulders sagged as he thought about it all, loosing one of the troopers he had trained since shiny, one of the 501st brothers he was closest too, “This way at least, we can stay with her and help her through this.” Rex had seen the holo before, having been close by to Echo when he had reordered it. He knew what it said and had even teared up a little at how sentimental it was.
“Will we ever give it to her?” This time it was Fives to break the temporary silence that had fallen over the apartment, looking at (Y/N) with sad eyes.
“I don’t know,” Rex said. Before he could utter another word, there was a firm and slightly frantic knocking at the door. It slid open to reveal Kix with his med pack and Hardcase and Jesse behind him, both sporting grim expressions. They quickly walked into the apartment and closed the door, Jesse initiating the lock as soon as they were all in.
~
“There isn’t much we can do right now but I suggest we tell general Skywalker,” Kix said as he put his stethoscope away, standing up and depositing his med pack next to the front door along with the rest of the boys armour.
“We can’t. What will he do?” Jesse asked curiously, knowing that yes, Anakin and (Y/N) were best friends, but was this really something that he could help her with. He and the others knew that attachments for Jedi were forbidden but they had chosen to stand by their Vod and his cyar’ika. None of them knew what their general would say though.
“He might be able to help,” Hardcase replied, his voice low and timid which was a bit of a shock to the others considering Hardcase was always so loud and boisterous. Hardcase cast his eyes to (Y/N), watching as she lay there unconscious. He knew that this was going to affect her greatly but he wanted to help in any way he could. They all did.
“How?” Jesse snapped without thinking about his tone, his own emotions over the situation much more uncontrollable.
“I don’t know okay! But we can’t just leave her alone to wallow in her grief. Echo wouldn’t want that,” Hardcase snapped back, his usual volume returning though his words only held sadness and despair. A silence befell the room at that moment. The five men thinking over what they could do to help their other general, their sister. It was another few moments of silence before Rex went to speak up, his words being interrupted by a groan and coughing. The men all turned their heads to look at (Y/N), all equally concerned for her wellbeing after what happened.
“Vod’ika are you okay?” Fives asked quietly, his hand giving (Y/N)’s a gentle squeeze as she slowly and carefully turned her head left and right. She could feel the dull throbbing pain of where she hit her head, the bacta patch on the wound helping to sooth the spot.
She spoke no words as she took in the state of the apartment, not many things out of place but enough that she began to make a plan in her head of how to clean them up. She took another survey of the space, noting that there were now five troopers present rather than two. She didn’t mind the extra company, though right now she felt as if she wanted to be left alone. She tried to sit up, her body feeling heavy, as though her heart had been ripped in two. Her head felt foggy, like there was a missing piece of the puzzle though that was definitely the concussion, she deduced.
“General?” Kix asked tentatively, helping (Y/N) to sit up with the help of Rex and Fives. They sat her up against the back rest of the couch, making sure to place pillows around to help her sit comfortably. She gave a short nod in thanks, feeling like there was so much more to say but no words to articulate how she was feeling.
“This is all just a bad dream,” she said, smoothing one of her hands down her face. This had to be a bad dream, there was no way he was gone. The pieces of her heart were scatter, the fog of her mind still swirling with thoughts that Echo would be home soon.
“I wish it were (Y/N). But it’s not. I’m sorry,” Rex said, hanging his head in shame that he couldn’t bring his younger brother home. The others in the room mimicked Rex, all of them feeling awful for what happened, especially Fives. The guilt of the incident weighted on him most of all, not having done enough to prevent Echo from pushing for the shuttle prematurely.
“I should clean up, he’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) said slightly dazed, as if on autopilot and not fully present in her own body. She went to stand up, a little too fast as she stumbled, being caught by Kix, Rex and Fives. They all looked at her confused, not fully understanding what she meant with her words.
“Who?” Hardcase asked tentatively, slightly fearful of the answer her would receive. Kix and Rex steadied (Y/N) on her feet, making sure that she was physically stable before letting go, even then their hands weren’t too far away. (Y/N) looked at Hardcase with an innocent smile, one too innocent for a grieving woman who just found out that she had lost the love of her life.
“Echo. He’ll be home soon so I need to clean this place up,” (Y/N) said moving away from the couch and towards to the kitchen where there was a very small pile of dishes and a warm meal prepared. She would offer some to the guys but it was Echo’s favourite and she didn’t want him to have any less when he came home.
“(Y/N),” Jesse spoke, his tone one of disbelief. Had she not heard anything they had said to her for the last hour? Or was this the denial stage of grief. He looked over to Rex and Kix who were already looking at each other, both not knowing how to go about this situation.
“You guys should go, before Anakin starts wondering where you all are,” she said, picking up the sponge on the side of the counter and beginning to scrub what dishes were in the sink. She surveyed the counter looking for anymore before her eyes landed on the spot where she hit her head, the counter covered in a little bit of blood.
“But-“ Kix began but was cut off very abruptly.
“I have to clean up.” (Y/N)’s words were sharp, cutting through the tension of the room like a lightsaber. She sighed and reached under the counter for the bleach, pulling on gloves and pouring some bleach onto a clean cloth. She wiped the spot down until it sparkled, going over it with a damp cloth with water and soap.
“We can help you.”
“Thank you Fives. But I’ve got this. I want to make everything look just right for when he comes home,” (Y/N) replied and used the force to throw the bleached towel into the washing machine and turn it on.
“Vod’ika,” Fives said, him voice quiet as he tried to move towards (Y/N), only being stopped by Kix’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at his older brother who shook his head, not want to escalate the situation to a point where they couldn’t come back from. Fives hung his head in defeat, feeling even more helpless than before. He was watching as someone who he considered to be his sister, denied that the love of her life was gone.
“He promised me he’d come home,” (Y/N) whispered to herself, a smile on her face and her brain still foggy. Echo was going to come home to her, she knew it. Fives, again, went to approach her but this time with the holotape in his hands. However this time he was stopped by Jesse and Hardcase, both shaking their heads just as Kix did. Fives huffed in annoyance, shrugging both his brother’s hands off his shoulders and making his way to the front door, throwing on his armour quickly before leaving, tears streaming down his face as he left.
Rex watched Fives walk out, the knowledge of how frustrated the arc trooper was weighing in him like a gunship. Rex turned back face (Y/N) watching as she continued to cleanse the kitchen, going over surfaces that had already been cleaned.
“He’s not coming back (Y/N). He’s gone,” Rex said, desperation in his voice at not being able to get through to her. He went to step forward just as Fives did but was also stopped by Kix, his vod’ika giving him a pitiful look.
“He’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) repeated, the force around her drowning out their voices. She was determined to get the place clean before Echo came home, wanting everything to be spotless for his return. Kix watched as (Y/N) was in severe denial, the concussion and head wound she sustained doing nothing to help her subconscious delusions.
“Rex, let her mourn. She’ll come to terms with it eventually. Let’s leave her be.” he gave Rex’s shoulder a squeeze, signalling to Hardcase and Jesse to kit up, wanting to let (Y/N) mourn in peace. Jesse and Hardcase both cast one more glance at their captain who nodded in agreement with Kix’s words, begrudgingly agreeing to let (Y/N) have some space. Kix however walked up to (Y/N) and placed a hand on her shoulder, placing a bottle of pain pills on the counter next to her.
“Take one of these before you go to sleep at night and one when you wake up general, they’ll help with the migraines from the concussion,” Kix said, only receiving a very small nod from (Y/N). He turned back to the others who were now kitted up, following suit before ushering Hardcase and Jesse out, both wishing (Y/N) the best.
Rex was more reluctant to leave, not wanting to leave (Y/N) but knowing that she needed time right now, “if you need us at all, you know how to reach us (Y/N).”
There was no reply from the women and Rex sighed, kitting up and tucking his helmet under his arm. He opened the door and cast one last empathetic glance at (Y/N) before the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in her apartment.
~ Time Skip~
It had been another two weeks since the incident and (Y/N) was still in denial, her subconscious mind pushing forth memories of their time together to make it appear as though Echo was still alive. She smiled as she washed her hands in the kitchen, just having finished making lunch when there was a knock at the door. She used the force to open it, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Anakin standing there.
“Hey (Y/N),” he greeted a sympathetic smile on his lips as he walked into her apartment.
“Hi Anakin!” she said cheerfully, coming over to hug her best friend. She gave him a squeeze before pulling away, giving him a once over to check for any injuries but found none. Her cheery disposition caught Anakin off guard, making him tilt his head slightly but he said nothing.
“I just made lunch, would you like any?” She offered, moving back to the kitchen and taking down a bowl and two glasses from the cabinet.
“I’m okay for now (Y/N/N) but thanks for the offer,” Anakin declined politely though accepting the cup of water that she offered him.
“How’re you doing?” He asked as she sat down, a bowl of stew in her hand and her legs tucked up under her body. Anakin took a sip of his water as she answered his question though her answer sent a shock through his spine making him choke on his water.
“I’m doing good. I’ve got a clean place and it’s ready for when Echo comes home.”
“What?”
“My apartment. I cleaned it up so that way when Echo comes home he can just relax.”
“D-did Fives and Rex not-“ Anakin stutter over his words, placing his glass down on the caf table and staring at (Y/N) as if she had turned to the dark side. She continued talking however, as if trying to drown out what Anakin was saying.
“And then I’m going to make his favourite dinner and make sure th-“
“(Y/N/N).”
“Yeah?”
“Echo’s gone. He died at the Citadel,” Anakin said, standing up and kneeling down in front of where (Y/N) was sitting on the couch. She refused to meet his eyes, finishing off her stew and standing up, navigating around Anakin before moving to the kitchen.
“N-no he didn’t. He’s just-“ she stuttered out, dropping her bowl in the sink and running the water over it.
“(Y/N)-“ Anakin started but was cut off again.
“He’ll be home soon. I know he will be,” (Y/N) said, turning to give Anakin a quick glare before moving toward her bedroom.
“(Y/N) wait,” Anakin said quickly, jumping over the couch and chasing after her, gently taking hold of her wrist to stop her from walking away. (Y/N) stood still for a moment, thinking over what Anakin had told her, thinking back to when Rex and the others were her.
“I should get going. I need to shower and meditate before he comes home,” she said quietly with a sigh, shaking free from Anakin’s grip and heading down the hall, “you can see yourself out,” she said as the door to her room opened and closed, leaving Anakin alone on the boarder of the living room and hallway.
He sighed as he looked around the apartment, taking in the spotless mess of everything and how nothing was out of place. His eyes landed on the side table next to the couch where there was a holophoto of (Y/N) with him, Rex, Fives, Echo and the rest of Torrent company. Next to that was a holophoto of her and Echo, holding each other and smiling. Anakin picked up the captured moment, looking at the happy couple that reminded him so much of himself and Padme. He felt awful for not being able to bring Echo home, his helmet the only thing coming home with them.
Anakin made his way to the door, sighing once more as it opened and closed behind him as he left (Y/N)’s apartment, thinking over what he could do to help her.
~
“I’m worried about (Y/N), Master,” Anakin said as he stood against the wall in Obi-wan’s office. He had come to his master after visiting (Y/N), needing some advice at how to help her out.
“Why’s that?” Obi-wan said as he continued to type up a report for the council on his datapad.
“She’s in denial about Echo’s death, She still thinks that he’s alive,” Anakin said, shaking his head as he gave Obi-wan the run down. Obi-wan nodded along, listening to Anakin as he spoke. He knew of (Y/N)’s relationship with the arc trooper, even if they had tried their best to hide their relationship. Obi-wan had chosen to show his silent support, turning his head and letting (Y/N) be happy. He knew what it felt like to give up that kind of connection in favour of being a Jedi and there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel some kind of regret.
“But didn’t Rex and Fives-“ Obi-wan started, looking up at Anakin as his apprentice cut him off.
“They did. And so did I but she responded with ‘he’ll be home soon’ and won’t hear anything else about it,” Anakin said, coming over and sitting down at the chair in front of Obi-wan’s desk this time.
“I see. That’s not good then,” his master replied as he looked over to Anakin, placing his datapad away from himself and giving Anakin his full attention.
“He left her a recording but Rex and Fives didn’t feel right giving it to her,” Anakin explained, placing the holorecorder down on Obi-wan’s desk as emphasis along with Echo’s helmet that he brought as well. It had been a battle to get Fives to part with it but Anakin had said to him that he needed it to help (Y/N) through this.
“Why not?” Obi-wan said, somewhat flabbergasted that they hadn’t given (Y/N) something that was intended for her. He looked at Echo’s damaged helmet next, putting a hand against it and closing his eyes, allowing the force to guide him through Echo’s last moments. He felt anguish, anger but mostly sorrow for leaving (Y/N) behind.
I love you (Y/N). I’ll see you again someday.
“Because they didn’t want her to be alone when she found out,” Anakin said, watching as Obi-wan continued what he was doing. He knew his master was focused on his task, connecting with Echo’s last conscious thought.
“I understand that but they should’ve given it to her,” Obi-wan said as he opened his eyes and removed his hand from Echo’s helmet. He had found the closure that he himself had been looking for and he hoped that (Y/N) could find the same. He looked to his student, a defeated look present in his face.
“I know. I understand the denial but how do we get her to snap out of it?” Anakin said, desperation present in his voice.
“I’m not sure but we need to find a way, before the council catches wind of this.”
“I know but how? She won’t listen to anyone about it.”
They sat silently for a moment before Obi-wan spoke up, “Maybe I can help. Give me the holo,” Obi-wan said, taking the holo and pocketing it before using the force to grab a bag big enough to hold Echo’s helmet. He pulled the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door, leaving Anakin sitting down.
“What are you going to do Obi-wan?” Anakin asked quickly but there was no response from his master as he walked out, power walking to where Anakin knew (Y/N) would be.
~
“(Y/N)?” Obi-wan called out catching (Y/N) as she was about to enter into one of the private training room. The woman turned at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up and lips turning into a smile as she saw Obi-wan.
“Master Kenobi! How can I help you?” She said with a smile and invited him into the room she was entering, closing and locking the sliding doors to give them a chance to talk.
“Actually, I was hoping I could help you,” obi-wan said making (Y/N) tilt her head in fake confusion. She had a feeling that Anakin had gone to his former mentor for advice and support and she had a sneaking suspicion that Obi-wan would be the next to talk to her about the situation. He had been there after all, the mission had been one that he led.
“Oh? I-I don’t need any help Obi-wan but thank you for the sentiment,” (Y/N) said, walking further into the training room and discarding her robe onto one of the bench’s against the wall.
“(Y/N), look at me,” Obi-wan said, walking over to where (Y/N) was, “You deserve to be happy you know that right?” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. (Y/N) reluctantly nodded, knowing where this was going. She was over it at this point, everyone trying to convince her that Echo was gone.
“Haha very funny. Has everyone else got you in on this prank to?” She said with a forced fake laugh, moving away from Obi-wan to sit down in the ground. She readied herself into a meditative position, hoping that Obi-wan would get the hint to leave her alone.
“It’s not a prank my darling,” Obi-wan said, turning to (Y/N) and following her to her meditation spot. He sat across from her and placed the bag with Echo’s helmet next to him, waiting for the right moment to bring it out.
“Yeah yeah, tell Anakin to knock it off. I have to make sure I’m alert and ready for when Echo comes home-“
“(Y/N).”
“Obi-wan.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” he said, trying to get through to her about how this was not a trick. There was a sigh hanging by thread on his lips, the frustration of (Y/N)’s denial making Obi-wan question if he should just rip the bacta patch off.
“Well I don’t believe you,” she said, closing her eyes to try and tune out Obi-wan and his words. She knew that Echo was somewhere out there and no one could dissuade her from that thought.
“When have I ever lied to you?” She heard Obi-wan say, the question striking a cord inside her mind and her chest.
“Today is the first,” she replied after a brief pause of thought. Obi-wan sighed again, watching as (Y/N) sat in denial. Her eyes remained closed so Obi-wan figured that now was the only time he could pull out his cards. He pulled Echos damaged helmet out of the bag he brought, placing it on the ground in front of (Y/N) before pulling out the holorecording and pressing play.
“Cyar’ika.” (Y/N)’s eyes flew open at the sound of that voice, the hope in her chest bubbling up before she realized that it was just a recording. She looked at the holo of her Arc trooper, watching as his eyes seemed to light up as if he was talking directly to her and not addressing her through a camera. She took another moment and looked down, tears gathering in her waterline as she laid eyes on Echo’s helmet, charred and damaged beyond repair.
“If you’re hearing this then… there’s no easy way to tell you but…I’m gone. I’ve had this recorded since I met you because I knew there was always a possibility that I wouldn’t come back.” His words hit her like a turbo tank, making her fragmented heart shatter even more. Her eyes temporarily met Obi-wan’s before they focused back on the holo of her lover.
“I gave it to Fives because I knew he would be the one to deliver it if something ever happened and unfortunately it did.” She picked up his helmet, the tears now spilling over her cheeks as she finally came to grips with the fact that Echo was really gone for good. She ran her thumbs over the visor of his helmet, holding it in her lap as she continued to listen to the message that was left for her.
“I just want you to know (Y/N), I will always love you no matter where I am. I will always be with you even when we’re miles apart. Ner mesh’la Sarad, move on and live happily, I know you can. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” His final words broke her, a strangled sob leaving her lips as she clutched his helmet closer to her chest. She placed her forehead against that of his helmet, feeling Echo’s last moments before the memories faded.
“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” Obi-wan said, watching as (Y/N) broke down over the message Echo had left her, having to wipe a few stray tears away from his own eyes. This whole situation reminded him so much of how he had almost lost Satine when they were younger. He felt horrible that he had to do this but it needed to be done before the council caught on. He couldn’t keep covering for her even if he wanted to, wanting to help her as much as he could.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Obi-wan said, standing up and gently maneuvering (Y/N) to stand up. She was pliant and didn’t resist Obi-wan much, still trying to grapple with the message that she had just seen. Obi-wan slowly and carefully took Echo’s helmet and placed it back in the bag so that no one would be none the wiser. He handed the bag back to (Y/N) and placed the holorecording inside it alongside the helmet.
He took (Y/N)’s hand softly and guided her out of the training room, being careful to avoid as many Jedi as he could in the halls of the temple. (Y/N) remained quiet, holding tightly onto the bag that now housed Echo’s helmet and the last message she received. She felt as though she had skipped the second and third stages of grief, no amount of anger or bargaining able to bring him back.
Next thing she knew they had made it to her room in the temple, the door opening and closing behind them. Obi-wan guided (Y/N) to her bed, coaxing her to lay down and allow him to take off her boots. He felt like a father comforting his daughter after a heartbreak. He was pulling off her boots when she finally spoke.
“He’s really gone?” (Y/N) said, her voice distant and haunted, not able to meet Obi-wan eyes. Her eyes instead moved to where Echo’s helmet lay in a bag on the floor of her room, the visor poking out and allowing her a glimpse of his beautiful hazel eyes one last time.
“Unfortunately he is,” Obi-wan said sympathetically, following her eyes to his helmet before he sighed again, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No. Thank you Obi-wan. I’ll be okay,” (Y/N) said as she gently forced Echo’s helmet and the holorecording into her hands. She needed to be alone to process everything and she just wanted to try and sleep.
“If there is anything that can be done, please allow me or Anakin to help,” Obi-wan said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a fatherly squeeze before he turned around and left the room, but not before she said to him,
“I will,” (Y/N) said before the door to her room fully closed behind Obi-wan, leaving her alone once more. She stared at Echo’s helmet, the plastiod charred and damaged, the blue paint scuffed and faded. She closed her eyes again, following the force as it led her back to the happy memories she shared with Echo. The words of his holorecording played over and over in her head as she stripped out of her robes and into her night clothes, haunting yet comforting to her.
She lay there in bed for another while, Echo’s helmet clutched to her chest like a tooka doll. She had made up her mind a while ago but now she knew for certain what she needed to do.
~
“What do you mean she left?!” Anakin snapped at Obi-wan as his master told him the news. (Y/N) had requested a private council meeting yesterday and had informed her masters and mentors that she would be resigning from the Jedi order effective immediately. It had come as a shock to most of the Jedi on the council though Master Yoda seemed to understand why. She had apologized profusely, but Master Yoda just bowed his head and wished her well.
“I’m not happy about it either but she resigned of her own volition. There was nothing that could have been done,” Obi-wan said, trying to quell the anger of his apprentice. He knew that Anakin would take the news hard, but he also knew that there was nothing he or Anakin could’ve done to change (Y/N)’s mind. She needed her time and space and they were going to give it to her whether they agreed with her decision or not.
“How am I going to break it to the boys?” Anakin said, dragging his mechanical hand down his face in defeat. The 501st loved (Y/N), always the life of the party and sharing her compassion for them wherever she went. She was their unofficial sister, their vod’ika as they liked to call her.
“I don’t know Anakin. But you’ll have to find a way,” Obi-wan said, mulling over in his head if there was any way that he could help Anakin break the news to his troopers.
“I know.”
“Maybe this will help her Anakin. She was grieving and she was beginning to get reckless on assignments.”
“But that’s not her fault!”
“It was. That’s why the Jedi are not meant to form attachments,” Obi-wan said, giving his padawan a look that told him not to argue but he knew Anakin was to stubborn to let this go.
“But you and Satine-“ Anakin started but Obi-wan cut him off very quickly.
“Satine and I were different. And I did not let me feelings get in the way of my duty,” Obi-wan snapped, not wanting to have the same argument with Anakin that they have had multiple times already. He had made his decision a long time ago, even if he still regrets it in some ways. Anakin sigh in defeat before sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Obi-Wan‘s desk again, bowing his head.
“I hope wherever she goes, she finds peace,” Anakin said, Obi-wan nodding along as well and wishing through the force that (Y/N) find what she needs.
~Time Skip~
“The island is beautiful Phee,” Hunter said as she led the Batch down the island towards where they would be staying for a little.
“I’m glad you like it. It’s our own little slice of heaven in this crazy galaxy. We have a lot of refugees here and it’s a place for them to find peace,” Phee explained as they came to a stop outside the island inn.
“I can see why,” Echo said as he took in the laughter the island had to offer. It was a gorgeous place with a diverse community and a kindness that hadn’t been present in the galaxy for a long while. He surveyed the area around them before Phee lead them inside the inn, momentarily catching a glimpse of someone he thought was familiar. He shook his head though, believing he was imagining it, after all it had been three years now.
“I hope you guys can find the same kind of peace here. Away from Cid, away from the Empire, away from the fighting,” Phee explained as she turned to the inn keeper to ask about rooms where they could occupy for a while.
“Believe me, I think we could use it,” Wrecker said, holding Omega on his shoulder as the younger girl nodded in response.
“I know you could. There have been a lot of people who have passed through here to get away from the fighting. And because we’re not a resource heavy planet, the empire just kind of leaves us alone,” Phee explained as she received the keys to one of the larger guest houses on island and turned to hand them to Hunter.
“Here you go Hunter, I can take you to the house if you want? Or let you guys wonder and find it yourself,” she said, smiling at the Batch looked at one another.
“We should be okay Phee. Thank you, for all your help,” Hunter said with a smile. The others agreed with him and thanked Phee for all she had done for them.
“Don’t forget, dinner at Shep’s tonight.”
She reminded them before she bid them a goodbye and head off to her own homestead, giving Tech a cheeky kiss on the cheek on her way out. The genius clone blushed and followed Phee with his eyes, a shy smile on his face.
Echo smiled at the scene, thinking back to before the citadel mission when he and his cyar’ika used to be so happy. His smile faded as he thought about it, about the war and how when the bad Batch had rescued him from Skako Minor she was gone. Anakin and Rex had filled him in on what went down after the mission, (Y/N)’s denial, Obi-wan giving her the message and his helmet, (Y/N) leaving the order. It broke his heart to hear how much his supposed death had impacted her, he just hope she was happy, where ever she was.
“Echo?” Echo was snapped out his thoughts by a tug on his human hand, turning his eyes to see Omega trying to get his attention.
“You okay? Wrecker called your name twice,” she said, Echo’s head turning to look at his larger brother before realizing that the others were looking at him as well.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just….memories,” he said quietly.
“About what?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
“About (Y/N)?” Tech said, making Echo’s head shoot up to look at his genius brother. Tech just shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing, “I over heard General Skywalker and Rex speaking to you about it when we rescued you. I am assuming the public display of affection by Phee must have triggered repressed memories.”
Echo just sighed and grumbled about ease dropping, not wanting to justify Tech with a response. Hunter had also heard the conversation but hadn’t thought it relevant to bring up, knowing that if Echo wanted to talk about it he would when he was ready.
“Yes, I was thinking about (Y/N),” he said and felt Omega give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“What happened to her?” She asked, her childlike curiosity seeping out. Echo sighed and turned to the door of the inn, moving to step outside. The others followed him out, beginning to walk to where their temporary house was.
“She resigned from the war effort after I…” Echo spoke, though the words died on his tongue quite quickly. He didn’t like thinking about the citadel or how (Y/N) must have felt.
“After you blew up?” Wrecker said, ripping off the invisible bacta patch that those thoughts brought along. Echo and the others glared at their larger brother, Hunter giving him a smack over the head.
“Tact Wrecker, we’ve talked about this,” Hunter scolded him like a child. Wrecker looked down and apologized to Echo knowing that he may have just undone some of Echo’s personal healing.
The ex-arc trooper sighed and turned around, walking fast to leave the Bad Batch where they stood. They called after him but he ignored their calls, needing to be left alone for now. Echo knew that yes, (Y/N) had resigned after his accident but he didn’t like to dwell on those thoughts. The message that he left to her was still fresh in his mind as if he had recorded it yesterday, telling her to move on and live happy. He hoped that she was happy wherever she was.
~
(Y/N) sat in her secluded house on the island, reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. It had been three years since she resigned from the order and now she kept to herself, going out only when she needed to, speaking to very few people. Shep had been very welcoming to her when she first stumbled upon the beautiful island that Pabu was, a peaceful, secluded place where she could escape.
When she first arrived, she shut herself out from the force, wanting to start a new life even if she had become an introvert. She had found peace and quiet, her new life away from the war and the death was something she was content with, though there was no true happiness. Her happiness had died with Echo and she hadn’t been able to find someone new. There were a few people who had hit on her at bars before she found Pabu but she always turned them down as politely as she could, talking them that her Arc trooper would be there soon.
(Y/N) was coaxed out of her thoughts at the sound of chirping, a blue bird landing on the windowsill of her home. She smiled at the little creature, one that seemed to visit her home frequently.
“Hello little fellow. How’re you today?” She asked the little bird, knowing that she wouldn’t get a response back at all. It was something she did every time the little guys came around, trying to strike up a conversation even if it was one sided.
However, for some reason this encounter felt different, the little blue bird staying on her windowsill a little longer than normal. (Y/N) titled her head slightly as she observed the little creature, the bird staring back at her just the same. She shook her head and went back to her book, reading a few more words before there was another chirp from her little blue friend. This time when (Y/N) looked up, she was shocked to see the blue bird had made its way inside her home, resting on the caf table infront of her.
“Hey little guy. You’ve never done this before,” she said curiously and lowered her book, continuing to observe the small creature as it looked back at her. It flapped its wings slightly adjusting its position before it took off, flying further into (Y/N) house.
“Hey!” She said and stood up, quickly tossing the book on the caf table as she follow the bird to her room. When she rounded the corner to the open door of her bedroom, there was the blue Bird, sitting on top of Echo’s helmet. (Y/N) stared at the little creature in wonder as it rested on the damaged helmet of her deceased beloved, staring right back at her with big black eyes.
“W-what are you doing their little guy?” She asked, her voice cracking a little at the bird continued to stare at her. This had never happened before and she had done well not to dwell on Echo’s helmet no matter how hard it was not to look at it. She had placed the helmet and holorecording on her bedside table a little while after she settled on pabu, her own way of having Echo home with her even if she didn’t like looking at his helmet.
(Y/N) watched as the little bird did a 360 turn on the helmet, it’s eyes meeting (Y/N)’s once more as it completed it’s rotation. The curious little creature then flapped it’s wings and flew the little distance down to be on the surface of the side table, looking at (Y/N) again once he landed. She stared back at the little blue bird, her heart racing as she felt a tug in the back of her mind.
The little blue bird looked at (Y/N) unmoving and unblinking for a moment before he picked up the holorecording and took flight, flying out the open window of her bedroom. (Y/N) shrieked and raced to the window, watching as the blue bird flew away with the holorecording.
“No! Bring it back, please!” (Y/N) pleadingly yelled, running to the front door and throwing on shoes before swinging the door open and running after the little blue bird. She needed that recording. It was one of the last things she had of Echo, the only one where she could still hear his voice. She ran like her life depended on it, trying her best to catch up with her little friend. She bumped into a few people on her way along the island path, apologizing profusely as she passed a few men in armour and a young girl. She had no time to stop as she chased the bird further up the island, needing to catch it before it got too far.
“Come back little birdie please! That’s too important for me to lose!” (Y/N) called out, speeding up her pace.
“Was that…?” Hunter asked as his eyes followed the women who had just run into them.
“I think it may have been,” Tech said, quickly typing away at his datapad before pulling up a picture of (Y/N) from the Republic’s database.
Echo found himself in the square, wandering around aimlessly, while looking at the vendor stands around him. There wasn’t much that caught his eye until he spotted a little blue bird flying through the air. He smiled at the little bird, something about it reminding him of simpler times. Echo held out his human hand out, hoping to coax the bird into landing on his palm. He felt as though he was on autopilot, never having done anything like this before.
To his complete surprise, the little blue bird flew down and landed on his outstretched palm, looking up at him with big black eyes.
“Hey there little fella. Whatcha got there?” Echo asked as the blue bird released the holorecorder from its beak, looking back up at Echo. The former Arc trooper looked curiously down at the device before his eyes went wide, recognizing the recorder as his.
“Where did you get this?” Echo asked the blue bird quietly, not expecting an answer. Rex and Anakin had told him that Obi-wan gave the recording to (Y/N) before she resigned, the message on the device one that he had struggled to record. He didn’t like thinking about the possibility that one day he wouldn’t come back from a mission, but he knew that the message needed to be heard. He stared down at the bluebird in the palm of his hand, his eyes welling with tears as he thought about what this could all mean.
“Blue bird! Where’d you go?” Echo heard a voice call out, eyes closing as he instantly recognized the angelic tone of who it belonged too. His heart beat quickened and his breathing picked up, suddenly feeling self conscious with himself. A lot had changed since the last time he had seen her and he had no idea what would happen when she finally saw…
“Echo?”
He exhaled a breathe he hadn’t realized had been trapped in his throat, tears threatening to stream down his face as he opened his eyes again to look back at the little blue bird in his hand. The little creature just looked back up at him before fluttering its wings and taking off once more, leaving him alone again.
“Echo is that you?”
Echo’s mind was racing a million parsecs a minute, so many things going on but all he wanted to do wasn’t turn around and confirm that she was really here. Slowly Echo did turn around and the sight that greeted him made him want to crumble.
There stood his beloved, tears prickling her eyes as she stared wide eyed at him, her mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as she seemed to grapple with the shock of the moment. They stood there and stared at one another for a moment, neither having the courage to move forward before Echo spoke up.
“Cyar’ika?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he watched the woman he loved breakdown even further. She went to walk towards him but Echo took a small step back, feeling even more self conscious about himself now that he had confirmed it was really her. However Echo regretted his movement the second after he made it as he watched (Y/N)’s face crumble, the hope in her eyes dying ever so slightly.
“Echo,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as she spoke his name out loud for a third time. It was really him, he was alive, even if he looked different to the man she knew. It was still her Echo.
“I-I’m not the same a-as I used to cyare. I-I’ve changed.”
“I don’t care.”
“Really?”
“I don’t care about what has changed physically about you. You’re still my Echo,” she said, her voice cracking as she made her declaration. Echo couldn’t help the smile that graced his face as he opened his arms for her.
“I told you I’d be home soon Mesh’la,” he said and that was all (Y/N) needed to run into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she wrapped her arms around his slim waist. His arms found their home around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest as his own tears began to fall.
“I thought I lost you Echo,” she managed to choke out between sobs, Echo’s grip tightening as she spoke.
“I thought I was too ner sarad, but I’m okay now,” he said and felt her nod into his chest. They stayed there for a while, just holding one another as they grappled with this new, almost perfect reality. Echo pulled away slightly from the hug, tilting (Y/N)’s chin up and not waiting a second more before he planted a firm yet gentle kiss to her lips.
(Y/N) tensed briefly before relaxing again, reciprocating the kiss with just as much passion and love. It had been so long since they had seen each other and she knew there was much to discuss but for now, both Echo and (Y/N) were content to be in each others arms again.
He finally came home!
—————
I hope you all enjoyed this! There will be many more stories to come!
Part 2 anyone?
(Fully Edited January 22nd, 2025)
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my-debauchery · 4 months ago
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Wonder.
idol!haechan × gn!reader
g`fluff
cw`tears(happy), kisses, hugs
wc`0.8k
A/N: constructive criticism is more than welcomed. if you see mistakes in cw, please, let me know.
'do you ever wonder?' haechan asks as he lays his head on your shoulder and pulls you in closer to him. 'wonder about what?'you ask.
you look up at the clock on the bed side table, 03:36. you are laying in bed with haechan, slightly overheating, cause he decided to turn into coala and trap you completely, as well as cocoon both of you in a blanket. he claims you need to warm up after the earlier walk you took and he needs to recharge from you, after a shity day he had. sure you do,both of you. but now you're wondering how are you not melting.
you start to slip in to your slumber when haechan tightens his hug even more. 'things?' he mumbles in to your shoulder. you're slipping again trying to remember what you were talking about. 'so do you?' he whines a bit and you chuckle at his impatience 'i don't know what you talking about' you're quite sleepy, so his question left your mind as quickly as it entered it.
'want to know what I wonder about all the time? to the point that when I talked to doyoung hyung about it and how much it occupies my mind, he genuinely looked concerned, said i might be losing it' haechan says with a smile. you're intrigued, so you whisper 'please, share with a crowd'
'i wonder about you. and me. how we met, how we love each and what our life's will look like in 10,20,30 or 60 years from now. would we have been able to meet if one thing were to be different in our life's? will we be happy? how will our children look like? how am I going to say no when you'll decide to get an ugly little white dog? i don't think we will able to find another daegal, right? what if you get sick and leave me all alone? what if i? how can i? what to do when i let our child eat too many sweets and now they have a stomachache? and you told me not to do that. should we get a place at the cemetery now or later? won't the prices rise? will i cry at our wedding or not? will you? will you let me be buried at your feet like that italian painter? do you ever find me annoying or too much?do y-' you immediately interject 'no, never' he kisses your cheek and moves his lips to your ear and continues in whisper 'do you actually like my friends? as much as i do? my family? does yours like me? are you lying that they do? are you sick and tired of me asking you to cook for me my favorite things again and again? do you yearn for me when I'm gone? as much as i do for you? do you like the smell of my new shampoo? will you marry me? when would be the right time to ask? is there a right time?'
you lay there, frozen as tears are gathering in your eyes, unable to say anything really. nothing that, in your opinion, will be as moving and silly as haechan's waterfall of thoughts. but when you come to realize what his last 3 questions were 'did you just ask me to marry you?' you sit up and look at him. he sits up and looks down to grab your hands, he is blushing. 'i mean...' he can't look you in the eyes, so you ask again 'did you? i mean it's not very romantic, but kind is, you know? i'm not mad.' he looks up at you, eyes twinkling 'really? it's not how i wanted to ask, but i just couldn't stop. you are truly what occupies 99,99% of my mind, the rest is unimportant stuff. so, will you? will you marry me? i know that we can't legally now, but in the future i'll give the grandest wedding you want. for now we can wear matching rings and think of each other as husband and wife. and we can have a celebration with family and friends. how does that sound?'
you look up to stop yourself from crying and when look at him. truly look at him and all that you can see is love. love so overwhelming sometimes you feel you will explode from the happiness that it brings. and yet so calming and stabilizing, it makes you power through the darkest of hours.
'i will. i love so much, i don't need any wedding. as long as we are each other's, we can be happy on our own, there is no need for the world to know.' haechan smiles and pulls you in for a kiss, short and sweet. and then another on the cheek, and the forehead, and left temple , and right temple, till he kissed your face all over and you're both giggling messes. you pull him in for a hug and squeeze as hard as you can, wondering. how are you so lucky to be able to touch the sun and not burn up?
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