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#I’m sorry I don’t know how to draw tech anymore
vimse · 3 months
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Happy Taungsday friends!
I’m sorry I haven’t been posting a lot. It has been a stressful month and it doesn’t look like it will clear up anytime soon. I’ll try my best not to go crazy 🥹
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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday
Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)
Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain
Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)
Word count: 4,818
(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.
“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”
“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”
Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”
“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.
Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 
“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”
“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”
“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”
You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 
“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”
“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”
“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 
You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”
“Oh, about that Annie…”
“God, what now (y/n)?”
“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”
The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”
“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”
“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”
“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”
You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”
“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 
“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”
They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.
You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 
“Alright class, pull out your homework!”
Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 
The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.
Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”
“Come up to the board and solve this.”
Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 
“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”
You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 
The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”
“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”
“Are you su-”
“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”
Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 
You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”
It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”
“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”
You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”
“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 
“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”
The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.
You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 
When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 
You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 
You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 
You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 
You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 
You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 
By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 
You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 
The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 
You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 
Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”
She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 
Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 
“Yea-”
“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.
Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”
“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 
Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 
After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”
“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”
“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.
You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”
Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”
Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 
Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”
You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 
You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 
You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 
He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 
You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 
“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”
You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”
Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”
“My back and the back of my head.”
“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.
“What, is it bad?”
“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”
“Damn.”
“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”
“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”
“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”
“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”
“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”
You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”
“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”
“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”
He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”
You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”
You sighed, “when needed.”
He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”
“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”
He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”
He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”
“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.
“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.
You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.
When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 
You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.
“(Y/n), coat.”
You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”
“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 
Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 
Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 
The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 
The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 
The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.
You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 
“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 
“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”
She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 
Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 
She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”
You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 
You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”
You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 
“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”
You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 
“Did you hurt your shoulder?”
“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”
“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”
You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”
He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 
You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.
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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years
Text
Don’t give up just yet
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word count: ~3.6k
Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)
Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.
Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.
PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.
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“You should call her, y’know.”
“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”
“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”
You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.
“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”
“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”
Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 
Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.
The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.
Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.
You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 
First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.
Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.
Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 
It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 
You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’
Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 
After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 
It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.
You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.
As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.
Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 
You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 
Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.
The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.
You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 
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“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 
“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.
“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.
“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 
“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.
“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 
Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 
“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 
“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 
“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 
Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.
She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.
Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 
Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?
She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.
Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.
She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.
After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 
Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 
Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 
When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?
The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.
And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.
Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?
She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.
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Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.
But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 
You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.
You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.
The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.
You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.
“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.
Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.
“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 
You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.
“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.
“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”
“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.
“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 
She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 
It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.
Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.
You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.
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One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 
She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 
None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.
And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 
It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 
“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”
“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.
It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.
“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 
“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.
Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.
The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.
It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.
After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.
Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 
She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?
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Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 
You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.
That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.
Two voicemails. 
From none other than Isaac. 
It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.
Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.
The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.
The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?
Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.
It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.
“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.
A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.
“How can I help?”
“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.
“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.
Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.
“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.
“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 
It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.
The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.
You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.
You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.
“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 
The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.
Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.
You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.
“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.
You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.
“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.
Those words. 
Her looking at her wrist.
Your’s burning now.
You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.
“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”
741 notes · View notes
turtle-steverogers · 3 years
Note
i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah
hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you
-
Unsent Letters
To:
Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?
To: Bu
Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.
His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.
To: My astronaut
How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…
Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.
I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.
Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.
“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”
And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.
He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.
The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.
-
For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.
It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.
He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.
His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.
He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.
He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.
“Nat?”
Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”
Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”
“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”
“What?”
“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”
“I don’t want--”
“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”
Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.
“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.
He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.
They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.
“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”
Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”
Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.
The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.
-
To: Mr. Sweet Tooth
You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.
Love, Mr. Boring
-
Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.
The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.
Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.
He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.
He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.
Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.
But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.
-
To: JB
im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please
-
The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.
Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.
Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.
He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.
Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.
And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.
Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.
To: Bucky
And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.
I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.
Love, Steve.
He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.
-
“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”
Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.
Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”
And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.
“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”
But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.
“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”
He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.
“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”
Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”
Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.
“I didn’t use your name.”
“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”
Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.
“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.
My astronaut
The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.
They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.
“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”
Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”
Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”
“... More like two.”
Bucky hums. “Are there others?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.
Mr. Sweet Tooth
Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.
“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”
Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.
“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”
“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”
Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.
He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.
He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.
“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.
Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.
Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”
Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”
“Why not?”
“I wrote it after DC.”
He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.
“Oh.”
“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”
Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.
“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”
Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.
-
There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.
Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.
To: My Bucky
Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.
I love you with everything I have.
Love, your Steve
Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.
-
anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely
389 notes · View notes
theydjarin · 3 years
Audio
Audio of the Hoth rescue scene from the 1983 ESB radio play, featuring some really great Han & Luke dialogue 
Luke: So what’s your excuse this time? Han: ...for what? Luke: For coming out after me. I guess you can’t claim it was the money this time. Han: Well, ah. I’ll figure something out, Luke. Luke: I bet you will. 😏
Full transcript under the cut:
Han: Chewie? Hey, Chewie! You got the Falcon fixed yet? We’re getting this snowball right now before they close the shield door for the night.
Chewie: Argh?
Han: Because I’m sick of this planet, that’s why! Because Jabba’s hunting for our heads. Now warm her up and let’s raise ship.
Chewie: Aghh!
Han: WHAT?!
Chewie: Agh aghhh
Han: You took what apart?! What are you doing fine-turning the hyper drive now? Look at that mess, are you crazy?
Chewie: Ahhhhhhhhhhgghhhhhhhhhh
Han: Okay okay calm down, we still got a little while before they shut the shield door. You close up the vector guides, I’ll put the transition rig back together.
Chewie: Aghh
Han: All I want to do is get us out of here, Chewie, now put her back together the best way you can. Just so they’ll get us to our next stop.
Chewie: Aughhh
Han: Who? Her royalness? Never what she said. Remind me to tell you sometime about hob-knobbing with the other classes, it’s such fun! Oh, great, it’s just what we needed, here come the loose wiring brothers. What are you doing, Chewie? Are you a saboteur?? You think I want to spend the rest of my life here for face--
C3PO: Captain Solo--
Han: Listen, Chewie, those vector guides will do for now. Just get em back in place and tighten up the hole. I don’t want em perfect, I don’t want em pretty, I want em NOW!
C3PO: Princess Leia has been trying to get you on the comlink--
Han: Whoa whoa there. What’d you say, Threepio?
C3PO: I was attempting to draw your attention to the fact that the Princess Leia has been trying to reach you by comlink now for some consid-
Han: I turned my comlink off, I don’t want to talk to her anymore, it’s bad for my disposition.
C3PO: Indeed. Oh, well, Artoo and I are to inform you that the Princess Leia is worried about Master Luke. She doesn’t know where he is.
Han: Well, I don’t know where he is.
C3PO: Nobody knows where he is.
Han: What do you mean nobody knows? He was only a couple of minutes behind me when I rode in.
C3PO: Well you see sir--
Han: Deck officer, deck officer, come here will ya!
C3PO: Excuse me, sir, but might I inquire as to whether you intend to organize a-- mmph!
Han: Will you shut up for a sec?
Deck Officer: Sir, what can I do for you?
Han: You can tell me where Commander Skywalker is.
Deck Officer: I haven’t seen him. Is that droid malfunctioning, sir?
Han: Not anymore than usual.
Deck Officer: Then why are you holding your hand over its vocal swath?
Han: He’s got a cough. Now what about Luke?
Deck Officer: Commander Skywalker hasn’t come through the main shield door, it’s possible he came in through the south entrance.
Han: It’s possible? It’s possible? Why don’t you just go find out whether it really happened, huh?
Deck Officer: Very well, Captain, as soon as I get the rest of your--
Han: It’s getting dark out there, friend, and cold, in case you didn’t notice.
Deck Officer: I’m aware of that. I joined up with the rebels because I notice things. I’ll go and check on the Commander at once.
Han: Okay, yeah yeah, look, hey, thanks, pal.
R2D2: [angry beeping]
Han: Huh? Oh, sure, Artoo. Sorry, Threepio.
C3PO: Thank you, Captain Solo. Although there was really no need for that, I’m sure. And might I now inquire what has happened to Master Luke.
Han: Well you just go ahead and inquire all you like, Threepio, it never does any good around this deep freeze.
C3PO: Well!
Han: Seal her up, Chewie, I’ll be right back.
C3PO: Really, Artoo, have you ever met such an impossible man? Come along, let’s find the Princess Leia and tell her what’s happened. This is what we get for allowing Master Luke go off on his own, without us to look after him.
Chewie: Aghh ahhhg!
C3PO: Yes, Chewbacca, of course we shall keep you informed of any new developments. Between ourselves, Artoo, I think Master Luke is in considerable danger.
[scene break]
Han: What’d you find out? Where is he?
Deck Officer: Sir, Commander Skywalker hasn’t come in the south entrance either. No one’s heard from him since his last communication check with you.
Han: Well he was clear up on the ridge line then!
Deck Officer: He might’ve forgotten to check in.
Han: Luke? No, where he grew up, people learn to be careful. I’m going looking for him.
Deck Officer: But Captain Solo!
Han: Have the techs got those snow speeders working? I’d use the Falcon but she’s on downtime right now.
Deck Officer: The snow speeders aren’t ready yet. We’ve been having all kinds of trouble adapting them to the cold. The techs are running up a bunch of replacement parts, they should be ready by morning.
Han: Well, morning ain’t likely to do Commander Skywalker very much good, is it? Isn’t there anything in this whole base that’ll fly?
Deck Officer: Nothing that can handle a Hoth blizzard, sir. Those winds would smash you down before you got halfway--
Han: Alright, alright, forget it, I’ll have to ride out and look for him on a tauntaun. Come on, move it, we haven’t got much time.
Deck Officer: Captain Solo! General Riken gave orders no one’s to leave the base!
Han: This one over here will have to do, it’s still saddled.
Deck Officer: Captain Solo!
Han: Tell the command center that I’ll keep in touch with them over comlink band alpha.
Deck Officer: Sir! General Riken doesn’t want anyone leaving the base!
Han: Lieutenant.
Deck Officer: Sir.
Han: Lieutenant. What did you just call me?
Deck Officer: Sir?
Han: Right. Now get outta my way.
Deck Officer: But the temperature’s dropping too rapidly. Even a tauntaun couldn’t survive for long!
Han: Yeah, my friend’s out there someplace, and I’m giving you a direct order to make it easy for ya, so don’t waste my time!
Deck Officer: I’m afraid I can’t let you do this, Captain Solo! I have my standing orders.
Han: Lieutenant, have you ever seen my first mate? ‘bout, uh,  three times your size, covered in fur, got a bad temper?  
Deck Officer: Everybody in the base knows Chewbacca, sir.
Han: Uh huh. Well if you or anybody else tries to stop me from riding that tauntaun outta here, Chewie’s gonna take it real bad.
Deck Officer: But General Riken has clearly instructed me that no one--
Han: Do you think General Riken wants a quarter of a ton of roaring mad Wookie running around this base?
Deck Officer: I’m reasonably certain that he doesn’t, sir.
Han: Smart boy. Now, stand aside!
Deck Officer: I’m trying to save your life! Your tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker. Even with an insulated suit, if you’re on foot out there, you’re dead.
Han: THEN I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL! Hyah!
[scene break]
Luke: Ughhh. Ughhhhhh. Dagobah. Dagobah!
Han: Luke!
Luke: What?
Han: Luke!
Luke: Ben?
Han: Luke! Whoa, girl, whoa, hold on. Luke! Speak to me, kid. Here, come on, sit up.
Luke: Ben? Han? Han!
Han: Yeah, it’s me, kid, it’s me.
Luke: It’s cold. Han. So cold. I’m warmer.
Han: Warmer? No, Luke, that means you’re freezing. Fight it, come on! Don’t go to sleep on me. Don’t do this to me, Luke. Come on, give me a sign here. Luke. Stay with me. Stay with me, kid.
Tauntaun: [death noises]
Han: Oh no, girl, don’t you give me problems too. The tauntaun’s dead, Luke. Where’s your lightsaber. I need it.
Luke: Ben! Yoda--
Han: There’s not much time. There’s only one way to keep you warm until I get the emergency shelter. [lightsaber zuup] I’m sorry about this, old girl. Okay, Luke, I’m going to have to shove you inside the carcass.
Luke: Dagobah!
Han: This may smell bad, kid, but it’ll keep you alive until I can get the shelter built. And I thought these tauntauns smelled bad on the outside.
[scene break]
Han: Hold still, Luke, I gotta give you a stim shot. There, that oughta take hold and bring you around in a second or two. This is Solo to base. Solo to base. Command center, I don’t know if you can read me, but I’ve got Luke. He’s alive but my tauntaun’s down for good. We’re in an emergency shelter. Do you copy? The storm’s kicking up pretty bad. I don’t know if this hut can take it. Just come for us as soon as you can. I’ve got the homing beacon on. Do your best for us, you guys.
Luke: Han...
Han: Lay quiet, Luke. Come on, there’s not much room in here.
Luke: Han, I can’t see!
Han: You’re snowblind, Luke, but it’ll pass. We’ll get you taken care of soon, I promise. And keep that thermal wrapped around you, we gotta warm you up a little at a time.
Luke: Han... it would be you. How’d you find me?
Han: Snoozing in the snow, that’s how I found you.
Luke: Nice going. You have some sense of timing is all. Where are we?
Han: Emergency shelter. North side of the glacier field.
Luke: You think this thing’s gonna hold up?
Han: Well. I’m sort of hoping for the best, buddy.
Luke: We sure picked a great time to field test it, huh?
Han: Haha, yeah, perfect. How ya feeling?
Luke: Oh... terrific. Why don’t we go outside and get some calisthenics in before it gets too dark?
Han: Sure. Heh. We could always play some tag.
Luke: Hehe. Oh... How’d you get out here?
Han: Tauntaun. There wasn’t any other way. She didn’t make it, though.
Luke: So we’re here til the weather breaks.
Han: Yeah, that’s about it.
Luke: I can’t feel my legs. I’m numb!
Han: You’re gonna be okay. There’s not a lot more I can do for you with a medikit. But they’ll put you through nerve therapy and float you in a regenerative tank and you’ll be as good as new.
Luke: Too bad the nearest one’s a couple kilometers away through a blizzard-
Han: No more talking like that. You’re gonna make it, ya hear? What happened to your face? You look like you walked into a rotor blade.
Luke: Oh. It’s a wampa. Ice creature jumped me on the ridge and killed my tauntaun.
Han: How very rude! as Threepio would say. I hope you killed it right back.
Luke: Well, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Whew. What smells so bad in here?
Han: Hehehe. You. You spent a little time inside my tauntaun while I was having a house raising party.
Luke: Well I guess you can cancel all my social engagements for the evening. So what’s your excuse this time?
Han: Huh? …for what?
Luke: For coming out after me. I guess you can’t claim it was the money this time.
Han: Well, ah. I’ll figure something out, Luke.
Luke: I bet you will. 😏
Han: This hut’s gonna hold, Luke, and you’re gonna make it.
Luke: I only wish I could’ve seen Leia. Said goodbye one last time.
Han: I got an idea, pal. Why don’t you just settle down and relax, and tomorrow you can say hello to her instead.
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whythinktoomuch · 3 years
Text
ii. apocalypse now & again
(pt. i)
Kara woke up and realized that she was going to die.
Too many of the drones had survived the explosions and were still closing in on her. What little strength she had left after quite literally digging her own grave was presently and painstakingly strained just from her efforts to climb onto her knees. And on top of all that—of everything that possibly could have gone wrong for her in this moment—her helmet was cracked.
The abstract red numbers warning Kara of the kryptonite levels in the area seemed redundant now, what with that unmistakable chill already flooding her bloodstream.
“… Alex,” Kara gasped out, barely able to hear herself over the ringing in her ears. “Hey, Alex… Are you there?”
Her words were met with not one whisper or even a crackle of static, and for once, Kara was inconsolably disappointed to hear no one yelling back at her. With her teeth gritted, she shoved herself off the ground as hard as she could, drifting barely a foot into the air before the first drone crashed into the back of her head.
Kara toppled back onto the ground, knees skidding across the rubble in a shower of hot sparks. The impact had her head reeling, her mouth filling with a taste that she was now idly recognizing as blood. But there was no time to consider any of that as the drone doubled back. Kara scrambled out of the way, narrowly avoiding another collision, only to be struck by a second drone smashing right against her ear.
Out of breath but swearing, Kara whirled around and snagged the fast approaching drone into a bear hug, squeezing and squeezing until it crunched in her arms with a frantic whir. Then with a burst of heat vision, she shattered the other as it came straight for her face.
Kara used her heat vision to pick off several more drones from a distance, but of course, more and more just showed up to take their place, never wavering, never slowing… and eventually, Kara just had to laugh. Because her exhaustion was catching up to her. And Alex was hundreds of miles away. And to get out of here alive, Kara would have to somehow defeat the entire horde of drones, while all they had to do was wreck her suit a little more.
Though admittedly, it’d be overkill at this point, given the crack now spiderwebbing across the glass visor of Kara’s helmet.
Either way, it was over.
--
So, Kara laughed, grabbed at her chest in a reflexive gesture only to meet the unforgiving metal of her suit, then dropped to her knees. “Alex!” she shouted herself hoarse, because maybe if said loudly enough, the words would still be lingering in the air by the time her sister arrived. “Alex, I’m sorry, okay? You were right, and I’m sorry!”
Then she just waited—chest heaving, eyes narrowed but never blinking despite the heat pricking at the corners—because she definitely had to see this through to the bitter fucking end. That much, she owed everyone, including herself.
Except the end didn’t come.
Not this time anyway.
No, instead came a silver sphere, emerging seemingly out of thin air to hover right before Kara’s face. It flashed a blinding white just once, and everything fell absolutely silent and still. Kara’s suit powered down completely, the drones collectively dropped from the air like marionettes with cut strings, and all the lights in the immediate vicinity blinked out.
Laughter welling up all over again, Kara could only collapse onto her side in something akin to sheer relief.
The first person to occur to her, of course, was Alex, who had already saved her ass from similar scrapes on many occasions. But that couldn’t be it. Alex was too far away. It’s why Kara had to take on this mission on her own in the first place.
Then she considered maybe Winn or James, which made even less sense, given how the deceased hardly ever came back to do things like save people’s lives. Not even hers. Not even in the most dire of situations. That’s, unfortunately, just not how life worked these days.
Then she considered Alex again because the kryptonite was clearly bleeding into her brain now, and it was getting rather difficult to remember why it couldn’t have been Alex who’d just saved her. Maybe Kara did shout loud enough after all…
But then, a set of footfalls drew near, metal scraping against metal at a steady pace until a heavy boot struck Kara firmly in the chest, flipping her onto her back where she settled with a grunt.
“So glad I got to you first,” came a self-assured drawl, and Kara promptly found herself face to face with a handheld cannon of sorts. “Would be a pity to come all this way and not get to kill you myself.”
And… Kara’s jaw just dropped.
Not because of the words, nor the intentions behind them—though perhaps they both merited some attention as well—but that voice.
Kara gaped up at her supposed knight in shining, lead-lined armor because her voice—that low, husky tone paired with that very specific lilting cadence—was making her reconsider some very fundamental things about how the world might work.
Namely, that people wouldn’t come back from the dead just to save her life.
Mind still reeling away, Kara tried to sit up, only to be slammed back into the ground, hard.
“Down, girl,” Lena said, grinding her boot into Kara’s chest, the weight of her entire body behind the gesture. But that was fine.
It was fine because Kara could still draw some breath into her lungs, could still use some of that breath to talk, and she could certainly still say some things that she hadn’t uttered aloud in many a year. Like her late wife’s name, for instance.
The cannon in Kara’s face wavered, but didn’t lower. “Shut up,” Lena hissed down at her. “Don’t talk. Don’t even think.”
“So… it is you…” Kara said, and she gently wrapped her fingers around Lena’s ankle—the only part of her that she could still reach from her position—and just cried.
With a startled gasp, Lena stumbled away, wrenching herself out of Kara’s grip. “What the fuck…? What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Kara sobbed out, trying not to choke on her own tears and snot and the slight taste of blood still lingering on her tongue. She suddenly, irrationally, wished that she could just take off her clunky suit. Just to eliminate some of that distance between her and Lena. Just so she could touch the chain hanging around her neck without any hindrance. “Just… just wanted to say, hi.”
Lena kept her distance, studying Kara in a stony silence, and Kara started to see things that she should probably would have noticed sooner if her body weren’t actively shutting down on her. Like the green glow of Lena’s weapon and the kryptonite cartridges strapped to her belt. Or that she was clearly wearing a lexo-suit. Or how the swirly edges of her own vision were starting to darken, and how the chill of kryptonite was currently all she could feel.
“Hey,” Kara called out, sniffling only slightly now. “Am I dreaming?”
“… No.”
Kara nodded thoughtfully to herself. “Okay, cool, cool… So, I think I might be dying then.”
“Yeah,” Lena said, after a brief pause. “Probably.”
“Cool.” Kara tried to flash a thumbs up, but no part of her body wanted to cooperate anymore. Her exhaustion had eaten up all her drive. “Hey, can you tell Alex something for me?”
Lena sighed, but she finally stepped closer, practically in reach. “Okay, sure.”
Kara fumbled for some words and the correct order that one might put them in, but then Lena took off her helmet, and nothing else mattered anymore. Because Kara was perfectly content to just watch that ripple of dark hair, streaked with a light gray that was just… nice to look at.
She never got to see her Lena’s hair do that.
//
Kara’s shoulder was being shaken so violently that she had no choice but to open her eyes and see Alex’s worry-creased face peering down at her.
“Dumbass…” Alex grumbled, releasing Kara’s shoulder with a dirty scowl. “That’s the last time I let you go anywhere without me.”
“Whatever you say, director.” Kara laughed, but it hurt. She then tried to do a salute, but her everything was still too weak to move apparently. But at least she was still alive.
… Wait.
Kara repeatedly tried to sit up on her bed, and Alex repeatedly shoved her right back down until she gave up. But still, she had to check, had to know that it wasn’t all just a dream.
“Where’s Lena?” she demanded, and the look that Alex gave her in response was so deeply pained that Kara almost felt pathetic for asking.
“… Kara.”
“No, I saw her, Alex,” Kara said, shaking her head, then immediately stopping when her entire body somehow got dizzy from it. “Shit. Ow, ow… But wait, no—But seriously, I saw her, okay?”
“I’m not surprised that you did. You almost died, Kara. Actually, I’m pretty sure that you were dead for a few minutes back there. Again, I say, you fucking dumbass.”
“But I didn’t die. Because she saved me,” Kara insisted. “No, seriously! She took out all the drones with some sort of EMP device, and, and… we talked! And she had gray hair, and I think maybe laugh lines? And yeah, I almost died because my helmet got cracked and stuff. But now, I’m here and I’m fine, so… everything’s fine, right?”
Alex frowned, then somehow settled on the least important part of Kara’s briefing, “You cracked your helmet?”
“Ugh, yeah. The glass visor part. When I fell,” Kara said, waving her hand dismissively. “So sorry about that, by the way.”
“Suit looked fine when we got to you,” Alex said with a shrug, before irritably exclaiming, “Jesus christ, Kara, enough! I’ll just have a guy get the helmet for you, okay? So, just stop trying to get up already.”
Huffing, Kara fell back onto her bed with her arms folded and waited. But when someone eventually showed up with her helmet in tow, she was surprised to see that it was somewhat worse for the wear but perfectly intact. Even up close, with the helmet out the tech’s hands and in her own, Kara couldn’t detect even the slightest blemish in the glass.
Pouting ever so slightly, Kara shoved the helmet back into the tech’s arms.
“… Satisfied?” Alex asked, rolling her eyes when Kara just shrugged one shoulder. “Great. Listen… You just need to get some rest, okay? Once you’re back to full strength, we can work through your… you know, memories together. And hopefully, it’ll make more sense by then. Sound good?”
Kara just nodded, suddenly all too willing to be left to her own devices in the relative quiet and darkness. She accepted a gentle shoulder squeeze and the promise of another session with the sun lamps within the hour, and just curled up under the sheets.
It’s not like she hadn’t conjured up images of Lena before. Kara had been close to death enough times that it was only inevitable that she’d fall back onto memories of her dead wife at some point or another. But this was different. Whenever her brain was just playing tricks on her, Lena appeared to her the way Kara remembered her: warm and loving, bright green eyes, long dark hair smelling of lavender, and alive and young.
Never before had Kara encountered an appropriately aged version of Lena, with creases gathered around her eyes and forehead, hair gloriously faded into the most lovely blend of light grays and white amongst all that black… The Lena that could have been if only she had lived out all these past years alongside Kara.
And she was never in a lexo-suit, of all things. Lena was always wearing one of her classic pencil skirts or Kara’s NCU sweatshirt, or something. Oh, and of course, her wedding band.
Instinctively, the same way she always did when it occurred to her, Kara reached for the chain around her neck, seeking out the familiar weight of the rings that hung from there… only to jolt upright with a gasp that dried up her entire throat.
She ripped the necklace off her head, almost snapping the chain, which in and of itself was telling. Because her chain had been forged out of an extraterrestrial metal amalgamation that not even the Girl of Steel would have been able to break. The one now clutched in her hand, however, was just plain white gold.
Heart pounding in her ears, Kara stared down at an engagement ring fitted with a modest cut of diamond, somehow occupying the very spot where two simple wedding bands—hers and her Lena’s—should have been. Then something drove her to check for an inscription, and sure enough, engraved on the inside of the ring was a series of kryptonian characters, denoting a term of endearment that Kara had never used, but apparently could have in another world altogether: my dearest heart.
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supercorpkid · 3 years
Text
Extraneous Variable
Error: n1.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader
Word count: 3220.
So what if Lena told you not to mess with alien technology, and that ‘whatever comes from it, it’s clearly evil’? They had a device to erase the mind that you couldn’t crack, it should be obvious to her that eventually you would find your way to it in your lab and try to figure it out. You are an inventor after all, you should know how this thing works.
And it’s crazy, the number of things you can think with just a few changes here and there. This piece of tech is so groundbreaking that if you figure it out, you’ll change the world completely. If you just find the courage to press that little button.
You can do it. You’re a scientist. If your mind gets erased, then you already have the device to bring the memories back. And if something else happens, you sure can think of a solution too. Here’s to not dying.
You press the button.
You’re pretty sure this wasn’t supposed to be happening. The machine seems to be overheating and you’re positive that the entire room shouldn’t be blue. Maybe you should get out of the lab.
You run to the door, but halfway through you fall on the floor. You look around, confused. How-how did everything get so big? Oh, no. Oh, wait. Oh, dear Rao. Things didn’t get bigger! You got smaller! How? You get up and try to walk, but you fall face first on the floor.
Ouch, that hurts. Wait, wait. What are these weird little fat hands? You look at the shiniest surface in the room and then, BOOM, you realize. You’re a baby. A BABY! You got turned into a BA-BY! Shit. What do you do now?
Your phone is on top of the table, and you obviously can’t reach it. You try to fly, but you don’t leave the ground. You look at the surface again just to be sure. It’s you, it’s really you. You look like all the old photos of yourself you can think of. So, you’re stuck in your old baby’s body, but you still think like a 16-years-old-girl? Ok. Not weird at all.
You’re sorry about what you’re doing next, but you need help out of this mess. You press the emergency button on the super watch and wait until Kara appears. No longer than two minutes later.
“Baby! Did you call?” You hear from the other side of the door. “Please, open the door.”
Well, that’s just it. You can’t.
“Little one, if you don’t open it, I’m gonna have to break it.” Kara waits a beat, and when nothing happens, she pushes the door. You look at the door coming off on her hands, and she puts it on the side. “Baby, where are you?” She is looking up, so she hasn’t seen you yet.
“Mommy!” You yell, to get her attention and she looks down at you.
“What the-?” Kara kneels down in front of you, blinking slowly, trying to take in what’s in front of her. She furrows her brows, tilts her head, then looks up again. “Baby, did you make another baby with your DNA?”
“Mommy!” You say again, and she looks down on you one more time. You open your arms, so she can pick you up, and Kara does just that. “Baby!”
“Well, you certainly look and sound like my daughter.” Kara sits you on your table and looks around. It takes her a couple of minutes to finally look back at you with wide eyes. “You ARE my daughter!”
“Yes!”
Kara paces around the lab, looking at you a few times and looking around. She looks as shocked as you think she would.
“Mom!” You ask and she comes back to the table. “Mom, hi!”
“You want to go say hi to your mom?” She asks, to which you shake your head agreeing.
“Peas.”
“Oh.” Kara holds your face between her hands with the biggest smile, and eyes full of tears. “It’s you little one! You’re a baby again. You said, ‘peas’ instead of ‘please’.” One tear falls from her eye. “It’s you! You’re my baby again!”
Ok. This is going to go on forever if you let her, so, you might as well speed this up.
“Mom, mom, mom!” You chant, until Kara stops kissing your face, and picks you up again.
“Well, I do not miss you only wanting Lena, but ok.” She makes her way out of the lab, and you feel bad for chanting for Lena so annoyingly. You reach for her face, and she looks down on you. You smile at her, and she smiles back.
“Sowy mommy.” Kara looks at you, and she looks like she’s about to explode from happiness.
“Can we just keep you like this forever?” Kara asks, kissing your face a few more times.
“No!” You frown and she laughs.
“Ok, ok.” Kara goes into the elevator. “Let’s get Lena and try to figure out how to reverse this.”
Kara stops on another floor, and you look around trying to figure out why you didn’t go to Lena’s office. Oh, no. She might be in a meeting. Kara makes her way to a room, and knocks on the door, waving at Lena on the other side.
“Let’s surprise her, shall we?” She hides you with her cape, watching Lena coming closer.
“Supergirl, I’m in the middle of a meeting. I can’t talk right now.” Lena spits out of gritted teeth.
“Well, this might change your mind.” Kara takes the cape out of your face, and you smile at Lena.
“Aah!” She yells, but soon covers her mouth with her hands. “Where did you get this baby?”
“This is our daughter!” Kara shows you again.
“Mom!” You say, so you can confirm Kara’s theory.
“This is not our daughter! Our daughter is sixteen!” Lena says, looking at you, and you open your arms, throwing yourself at her. She doesn’t pick you up. “What in the fucking hell is going on?”
“I was hoping you could answer!” Kara says and you fight out of her arms and into Lena’s. “She wants you.”
“I-I, dear God, why are our lives so damn weird?” Lena asks and bends over a little to look in your eyes. “Ok baby. I mean, actual baby. If you are somehow my teenage daughter trapped in a baby’s body, talk.”
“Yes. Baby.” You talk.
“This can’t be true.”
“Mom! Mom!” You open your arms again, Lena still doesn’t pick you up, much preoccupied with the meeting happening behind her. Ok, well, you’re sorry, but this meeting has to end now.
It’s not one of your finest moments, you have to admit, but you yell loud and cry even louder. Kara rocks you gently, while shushing you, and Lena is begging you to stop.
“MOM!” You yell, mid-cry, throwing yourself from Kara’s arms.
“Please pick her up!” Kara begs desperately, putting you in Lena's arms and you stop crying as soon as she does so, giving them a little satisfied smile.
“I have a meeting!” Lena tells you, and then looks at Kara asking for help.
“Not anymore. Now, you have a baby. Again.” Kara gives her a forced smile, and Lena looks back at the room with every man staring at her. Because, obviously, your crying has caught some attention.
“I’m sorry gentlemen, but it seems that this-” Lena shows you to them. “Matter is more urgent. The CFO will proceed with the meeting, if you can excuse me.”
She leaves, before anyone even has time to answer. Kara closes the door behind them, and they rush to Lena’s office.
She puts you sitting on the couch, and you stare at them, with a little smile on your face. So you don’t have a lot of words to explain what’s going on. What do you do now?
“Little one, how did this happen?” Kara kneels in front of the couch, and Lena sits on the floor next to her.
You smile sheepishly to both of them.
“Mom. Mommy. Baby.” Are those the only words you know? You might as well try every single one in your vocabulary. “Booboo!”
“What?” Lena asks, looking at her boobs. “There’s no more milk left in these booboos, my love.”
Oh no. Rao, no. Wrong word.
“Poopoo!” You try instead, and watch Kara trying to hold a chuckle.
“You want to go potty?” Kara asks. What? No! This is ridiculous. What kind of stupid baby only knows these stupid words?
“Peepee?” Ok, you know this won’t work.
“Ok, I’ll take you potty.” Kara stands up, ready to pick you up, and no way you’re going potty in front of her! Although, yeah, you could go to the bathroom right now. Guess you’ll have to hold it. You cry when she mentions picking you up, and she huffs, before kneeling again.
“I don’t understand what you want!”
“Kara, I think she’s trying to find a way to tell us what happened.” Lena gets up from her chair and takes a piece of paper and a marker. “Maybe you can draw?”
She puts the paper in front of you and the marker in your hands. Great! You just have to draw the machine and tell them to reverse it. You finish your drawing and show it to them.
“Is that a-” Kara closes one eye, backs off a little, gets very close to the paper, blinks twice, then furrows her brows. “A poopoo?”
No, it’s not a poopoo! It’s a… You look down at your drawing. Shit. It’s a poopoo.
You cry. And this time you actually cry because you’re feeling sad. Hopeless. Stupid. What the hell have you done? And how are you going to reverse it?
“Oh no baby, it’s ok!” Lena picks you up, gently rocking you in her arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. You’re not going to be a baby forever.”
“Baby no?” You ask. Wow, good for you, you added a new word to your vocabulary. And it’s not even grammatically correct.
“Baby no.” Kara repeats, kissing your forehead. “Shall we get home?”
“Yeah.” Lena stands up and grabs her purse. “You go buy diapers and I’ll take her home.”
Wait, what? Diapers? You’re not wearing diapers!
“No!” You say to them. “No!”
“Well, you can’t stay wrapped around your t-shirt forever. What if you need to pee?” Kara asks and you poke Lena’s cheek.
“Peepee.” You look back at Kara, with a smug look on your face.
“Oh, really? So you’re not going to pee your pants? Ok. If you say so.” They are almost walking out of Lena’s office when you realize you can’t really hold your pee forever, so you poke Lena again.
“Mom, peepee, peas?” You ask, and Lena does instant heart eyes at you.
“How is she so adorable?” Lena says before taking you potty. Rao, you can’t believe you’re thinking things like ‘potty’ now.
“Ok, can we go now?” Kara asks. You think that maybe you all should be heading downstairs to your lab, to figure out how to reverse this, but at the same time you’re so sleepy, your brain is kind of foggy and you can’t think right now.
When you wake up, unfortunately still as a baby, you’re already at home. You’re laying in a very improvised crib that Kara must have put together last minute.
“Mommy?” You call, and Lena’s head appears in your eyesight.
“Hey, babygirl. Oh!” Lena looks down and smiles at you. “You peed your pants.”
“No!” You yell, making her laugh.
“I’m kidding, baby. Come here.” She picks you up, and you smile at her. Lena spends a few seconds just staring lovingly at you. “Our lives are so weird, but it feels good getting to hold you like this again.”
“Baby.”
“Yeah. But the cutest one.” She kisses your cheek, making you smile wider at her.
“No booboos?” You ask, when Lena sits you on the counter, in front of her.
“Stop saying that, you know what it means.” She jokes, but quickly understands you’re hungry, so she picks up baby food from the fridge. “Kara picked it up on the way. Do you wanna try them?”
“No.”
“It was a lot easier when you were a baby baby.” Lena sighs and you open your mouth, giving up. What else is there to do? Starve? No, thank you. She puts some food in your mouth, but before you can���t even swallow-
“OH MY GOD!” You hear a voice coming from the backyard door, and you look there only to realize the truth. It’s Jamie. Real life-size Jamie. Looking at a miniature life-size you. “It’s true! She is a baby again!”
“I told you!” Kara comes from behind her, giving her a shit-eating grin, and you wish you could roll your eyes to both of them.
“Oh my God, little Danvers! You’re actually little again.” Jamie comes closer getting face-to-face with you. “Oh, wow. I always knew you would do something hilariously dumb, but this is-” She points at you, and starts laughing at your face. “Next level stupidity even for you.”
HA-HA. And you’re hilariously dirty, big Danvers. You think, before spitting all of your food in her face.
“Hey! No!” Lena picks you up, getting you away from Jamie. “That wasn’t nice! Say you’re sorry to your cousin. Come on. She’s here to help.”
“Sowy.”
“Sorry Jamie, come get cleaned up.” Kara holds her shoulders, directing her to the bedrooms. “You can pick any of your cousin’s clothes you would like.”
What? That’s not fair!
“Oooh, I know just which one!” She rushes out of the kitchen, and you look at Lena.
“She came to help you. I can’t believe you’ve done that.” Lena scolds you a little too seriously. Ok, so apparently being a baby doesn’t give you carte blanche to do whatever you want.
“Sowy, mom.” You ask and wink your big blue eyes at her and Lena wavers in front of you.
“God, you’re so cute. It’s not fair!”
It doesn’t take long until Jamie comes downstairs wearing your favorite T-shirt, and you stick your tongue out at her when none of your moms are looking.
“Ok, well, Jamie is going to babysit you, while we go to L Corp figure out what you did and how to undo it.” Lena says, picking up her purse, and you see Kara following behind.
“Mommy, no!” You ask, and Kara turns around, to look at you.
“Little one, mommy is going to help, ok? You stay here with Jamie and be nice.”
“MOMMY NO!” You don’t want to be left alone with Jamie. You know for a fact she has zero experience with children. She almost killed her doll! Let alone you!
“Hey.” Kara comes back to you. “Stop that. We have to undo the mess you made.”
“Mom, yes. Mommy, no!” Ok, fine. She seems to want things the hard way, very well! You can do it the hard way. You stare into her eyes, before starting to cry as loud as you can. “Mommy no! No!”
“Ugh!” Kara picks you up, looking at your red face, and watery eyes. “Good time to just need me, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” You stop crying, and smile at her.
“Ok, fine. I’ll call Alex and Brainy to help. You two stay with the needy baby and try to figure out a way to get information.” Lena leaves, and Kara looks back at Jamie.
“Any idea how to get information out of an 18-month-baby?”
“How about this or that?” Jamie asks, to which Kara furrows her brows. “Ok, get me your computer.”
You can’t believe Jamie had this idea and you haven’t. Well, you’re a baby so it doesn’t really matter what ideas you had, they wouldn’t understand you. She shows you a bunch of pictures, and asks questions like “was it an experience or an alien?” Then you point to the machine in the picture. They keep asking questions until they have a brief grasp of what you have done.
“I’m going to call Lena.” Kara passes the baby food to Jamie. “Keep feeding her.”
Jamie grabs the food and looks at you, squinting her eyes. You hold her gaze defiant.
“If you want to eat, you need me to feed you. And I will only feed you if you promise you won’t spit on me again.” Jamie says, holding the spoon full of baby food just a little too far from your mouth. “So, do you want it?” You agree with your head. “Will you spit it?”
“No.” You admit, feeling defeated. Jamie puts the spoon on your mouth.
“Good baby!” She jokes, and Rao, how much you wanted to have more words in your vocabulary right now. Anything from ‘shut up’ to ‘fuck you’, would do just fine. Oh well, you can always tell her that once you come back to your old body.
Jamie keeps feeding you the most disgusting food you ever tasted in your life, and you keep eating because goddamn it, you turned yourself into a baby! A baby! Kara comes back a little later saying that with Brainy’s help, it looks like they’ve figured out the problem.
Kara flies to L Corp with you in her arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay like this for a while longer? It would solve all of your problems.”
Sure. Then add some more, like, having to go potty in front of people. Ugh, what a nightmare. You hope you never have to do that again in your life.
“No, mommy.”
“Just another day. Please?” Kara begs and you do your best to roll your eyes. You don’t think you’ve accomplished that, though, when her reaction is ‘awww’.
“Mommy. Baby, no. Peas.”
“Ok, ok. Can you, maybe, make a copy of yourself and-”
“Oh, there she is!” Lena says, when Kara walks in the lab with you. You’re glad she cut Kara’s absurd request off. “Look at my baby, Alex!”
“Oh, hey kiddo!” Aunt Alex looks at you with an amused expression. “What a mess you got yourself into, huh?”
She can say that again.
“Ok, I reverted the command she gave. I’m positive it will work. Well, I’m 80% positive, which in this scenario is a good percentage.” Brainy says, and your moms look at you, almost like they miss you already. “Ok, she has to be alone in the room, so maybe put her on the floor, and put the clothes she’ll need next to her.”
“Hey, are you ok?” Kara asks, and you agree with your head. “I love you.”
“I love you, babygirl. You’re the cutest baby I’ve ever seen, but I want my beautiful teenage daughter back.” Lena kisses your face a couple of times and smiles at you. “God, look at you! We should’ve made ten of her. Just look at her face.”
“There’s still time.” Kara jokes with a smile, putting you on the floor. “See you in a few seconds, little one.”
The room flashes blue again, and, in a few seconds, you look in front of you and see long hairy legs, instead of baby ones. Wait. Hairy legs? You stand up and look down on yourself.
“AAAAAAAAAAH!”
Notes:
@oncemoonie gave me so many awesome funny ideas, hope you enjoy this.
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Text
Spell Caster Pt. 1
Masterlist
Hawkmoth stood on the platform above, laughing at the two downed heroes. Ladybug and Chat laid facing each other barely able to move, exhausting shining in their eyes. They had fought long and hard but in the end he had led them into a trap, delivering hit after hit till neither could stand anymore. He had led them to his secret garden where beloved wife rested, and poor Adrien could barely keep himself together. He kept fighting, unwilling to let Hawkmoth win even if it was his father. While Marinette did her best to cover her hurting partner, he was just too much for them. Hawkmoth stood talking to Emilie as if she could hear him, going on about how he was finally going to bring her back. Ladybug shifted her gaze from Hawkmoth’s back to her partner’s eyes. Chat was crying as he stared at his best friend, knowing he hadn’t really helped in the fight.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered softly trying not to draw attention to them for as long as possible. “I’m sorry Ladybug, I should’ve helped but that-that’s my dad. I kept freezing up and I failed you.” Ladybug smiled gently, moving her arm and grabbing his hand.
“It’s not your fault Chaton.” A single tear fell from her eye as they stared at each other.
‘You need to move.’
Ladybug tensed at the voice looking around when she noticed Chat didn’t react to it. The voice was a woman's, it was soft and comforting, almost familiar.
‘You need to move now!’
She couldn’t find anybody else in the room, there was nobody but them. Yet the voice was still there, perhaps she was going crazy. It would make sense to her, especially because she couldn’t place who the voice belonged to.
‘Sweetheart, I will explain later I promise, but you must remember!’
Remember what? Why did this voice want her to remember something, couldn’t they see she was in a bit of trouble right now.
‘Ugh! Foolish girl! You are more than just Ladybug!’
Rude. Of course she was more than Ladybug, she was Marinette...she was Marinette daughter of..
‘Yes Marinette! Marinette daughter of! You are so close, remember the book!’
Marinette, she was Marinette, the book...what book, could the voice mean her spell book?
‘Yes! Yes, my little Spell Caster!’
She was Marinette, she was a spell caster. She was Marinette, and she was a spell caster. She was the daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine-
‘Not by birth.’
Not by birth…Not by birth?! A distressed whine left her lips as she thought of her Maman, not by birth repeating in her head. Until she shoved it back focusing on her current crisis. She was Marinette and she was a Spell Caster, why hadn’t she thought of this before? She tried so hard to split Ladybug and Marinette to hide her identity that she forgot Marinette was special, if not more than Ladybug. What should she do though? She could alter his mind, but would it work? Would the Miraculous Gods affect her powers? Perhaps she could try an illusion?
“Chat, what was she like? Your mother.” Chat looked surprised as a gentle smile crossed his face.
“She was amazing, soft spoken, always so gentle and warm. She hated violence but she never backed down when it came to her family. She’d...she’d never want this to happen.” Chat broke as more tears fell and he held her hand tightly, barely even able to find the strength to.
“ Do you trust me?” She whispered as Hawkmoth began walking towards them. She’d need him in order to pull this illusion off. She’d need to see his memories. Chat nodded weakly, not willing to look away from her.
“Yes” She smiled and her dark blue eyes shifted into an unnatural swirling lavender.
“eciov reh raeh em tel.” Soon Emilie's soft and melodic voice graced her ear. Perfect, now the illusion will trick him.
‘That’s my Spell Caster.’
Who even is this voice, no no focus, she needs to create the illusion.
‘Silly girl.’
Hey! This voice seriously needed to stop distracting her. She turned her head slightly looking past Hawkmoth, and ignoring the smug smirk that she wanted nothing more than to punch off his face. Very hard.
“trapa mih raet reh evah efiw sih mih wohs.” She watched as an angry vision on Emilie appeared behind him looking as if she had sat up from her high tech coffin. Yes, coffin, the woman was dead, soul long gone and she didn’t have to be a daughter of Hades to know that. Daughter of Hades? What? What is she talking about?
‘Soon my child, soon.’
Who even was this voice! Later, she promised herself focusing on finalizing the illusion.
“Gabriel Agreste.” The same melodic voice called out, but instead of a soft and loving tone it was stern and angry. Hawkmoth turned immediately, staring at the vision of his wife in mute shock and disbelief. “What in the world are you doing!
‘I have called in a favor, one that will help you.’
Ugh, this voice popped in at the worst time. At least they were trying to help her though. She watched as Emilie’s illusion shifted slightly and it took her only a second to realize that it was more than an illusion now. No that was Emilie, just not her in body it was her, her soul.
‘Yes my child.’
She let out a wobbly grin as Emile began tearing into her husband. She squeezed Chat’s hand briefly hoping Emilie’s soul would be here long enough to say goodbye to her son. His eyes moved away from his mom’s form back to Ladybug’s.
“I will explain everything, I promise Chat. After this, no more secrets.”
She turned her attention back on Hawkmoth staring at his back intently. How could she get his miraculous? She was exhausted already so it couldn’t be anything complicated. Not to mention they’d need to get out of the lair after she took it. Summoning and a transportation spell, not a good combination when magically and physically exhausted. This left her in a very tough situation.
‘Someone is coming for you. You are too weak right now, the summoning spell will knock you out. Tell your partner to trust the one that comes from the shadows.’
Someone is coming? How can she know to trust them, just because a voice told her? Ugh, this was too difficult. Very well, tell Chat to trust the one from the shadows and then summon the butterfly Miraculous. She’d already taken the Peacock from Nathalie when they fought her earlier, so all that left was Hawkmoth’s.
“Chat, trust the one that comes from the shadows.”
“What? Ladybug-”
“Please Chat, trust me?”
“Always. Milady.”
“Then trust the one that comes from the shadows.”
“Okay.”
“Good. Suolucarim ylfrettub eht nommus i.”
The Miraculous immediately came to her hand but she didn’t get to celebrate as she began to see black spots. Her transformation dropped and she didn’t even get to enjoy Chat’s shocked face. Soon everything faded to dark with only parting words from the strange voice.
‘You and your partner are safe now my Spell Caster.’
She barely remembered what happened when she came to for the first time, everything was blurry as she panicked. Waking up in an unfamiliar room with someone she could barely see standing above her. Marinette threw a messy punch at the blonde above her, just barely missing even in her state. She lurched to throw herself off the bed but Will stopped her pulling her back onto it and talking softly. It did not help her at all and she didn’t stop panicking until Tikki flew in front of her face. Marinette took deep breaths staring at dearest friend. Will began pulling out new bandages getting ready to fix everything messed up in her panic. He was stopped by Marinette’s hand, she gave a weak smile as their eyes met. “Sorry…” She whispered out accent strong before falling back into the darkness.
Sun was directly in her eyes this time and she whimpered until it was blocked. Eyes meeting yet another stranger and instead of their stunning blue were a bright orange. She let out a distressed whine but did not move, Tikki was pressed against her neck. She was safe, even in the company of a stranger. Percy glanced at the door wishing for Will to magically appear before lifting the girl's head slightly holding a straw to her lips. “Drink please, it’ll help I swear.” He whispered trying to comfort her. Marinette took small sips, eyes changing to a soft and soothing blue at the taste of her favorite toasted white chocolate with triple espresso coffee. She glared when he pulled the straw away from her, causing Percy to laugh softly. He ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to be comforting. “I know, I know but too much will hurt you.” Her eyes watered slightly at the comfort.
“The voice didn’t lie.” She said softly, leaning into his hand. He quirked an eyebrow leaning closer to hear her. “The voice said we’d be safe, and we are.” Percy was silent before connecting the dots and nodding continuing to stroke her hair.
“The voice didn’t lie, you’re safe.” Marinette gave a small smile before darkness took her again.
“I can still barely believe it, Mar. The Gods are real, like real real, and you. You! You’re the daughter of one, her most powerful daughter too! I wouldn’t expect anything less of you. You’ve always been amazing in and outside of Ladybug. You’re my best friend, and-and I can’t wait for you to wake up. I need you to wake up please.” Adrien said softly, holding her hand, playing with her fingers. “I don’t know what our relationship will be. I don’t know if we’ll stay best friends or we’ll start dating. All I know is I want you in my life for the rest of my life.” Marinette squeezed his hand gently as her eyes faded to a soft pink.
“That sounds amazing, Rien.”
“Marinette!” Adrien cried out hugging her, laughter falling from both of them along with happy tears.
“Till the end?”
“Till the end.”
Percy smirked standing in the doorway, Chiron beside him as they watched the two.
“The holders of Creation and Destruction, in our camp.” Chiron mused watching the two before turning and walking toward the archery range. “This summer will be interesting won’t it.” He said ignoring Percy’s snort.
“I call training them Chiron!”
“Oh Gods help us, just what we need. Two more added to the chaos that is Percy Jackson.” Percy grinned, turning back to the two.
Yes, it would be a very interesting summer
✨Tag List Closed✨
@kanamexzeroyaoifangirl
@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen
@athena452
@thornalchemist23
@fangirlnerd001
@witchbitch1998
@insane-fangirl-of-everything
@thewackest
@vivilikesmiraculous
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wh0re-4-techno · 3 years
Text
2. PICNIC ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))
Description: Minx and you have a picnic on the grass field, discussing your very seemly normal meeting. But so some reason you couldn't keep your mind off of your new Professor.
Words: 2024
Last part ::  Next part
"Oh my god, I am so sorry for that Sir. You shy away, taking a few steps back from embarrassment, stepping away from the door frame, and him, he lets go of your arm. "No, no. That's alright. I run into people all the time on campus. Nothing to be sheepish about." He softly chuckles, it sounded so warm and welcoming. You look back at him, this time with a smile. Trying to reassure your professor.
"Well, it was my pleasure to meet you, Miss. Y/l/n." He sticks out his hand, which seemed a bit awkward as he was halfway through his door way and how you stood in the hallway. He had to bend towards you, you stepped forward to shake his hand.
They where slightly rough, but there where still softness to it. Maybe it was because he read through so many pages that his hands where becoming so rugged. He gently squeezed your hand, which you did the same.
His hands where so much bigger than yours.
As you pulled away from the interaction, "Can't wait to see you in my class, I can see that you'll do great." He said through a toothy smile and a wink. Your fingers where becoming warm, you grip them against your hand. "Thank you sir." You say as he closes his door.
You stand there for a few seconds, contemplating over this whole situation, but your feet started to move anyways. You walk down the hallway and down the many steps.
As you walk out of the building you pull out your phone. It reading '11:13am'. It felt as time flew by, where you really talking to him for about an hour?
Y/n to Minx:
R u at the grass field????
You send a text to Minx, she did mention that she would be meeting you there as you ran to that meeting. You walk your way to the grass field anyways without a text back, even if she replies with no, you where still going to be there. But you got a text back from her saying,
Minx to Y/n:
HELL YEAHHHHH! I have a picnic blanket too!
You softly giggle at her message, she always did little things like this. In a good way. You wouldn't have thought to bring a picnic blanket at all.
Soon enough you where at the grass, you look out in the many people whom decided to do the same thing you where doing. Many couple who where studying for a exam or doing homework, other where just making out with each other. Which you didn't necessarily care about PDA as much as the next person would, but for sure you wouldn't be caught dead sharing saliva with another person at the grass field.
Spotting Minx, who was laying on a classic red and white picnic blanket. She sat with a sandwich in hand, while her other hand was waving over to you.
Walking up to her you say, "Did you make one for me?" You gesture to her sandwich, which she simply rolls her eyes. She moves her leg to criss-cross so you would have room on the blanket. "No I didn't, sorry." She takes a big bite of it, you where fine without one, you weren't really that hungry anyway. "It's alright." You sit down, it was surprisingly very soft. "You where gone for a while."
As you sit you pull out the piece of paper that he handed you. "Yeah I guess." Unfolding it, you stare at it once again, going over every material you might need for his class. Your head slowly but surely started to drift off, thinking if the small amount of time that was spent on that office. How much you wanted to go back in there with him and just talk. Hearing his voice almost electrifying. Suddenly hearing Minx. "Earth to y/n?" Her voice was muffled but you could see her hand moving in front of you. Breaking you out from your train of thought. Minx asks you again, her face said it all, she was confused as why you where lost. "Are you okay up there?" She tapped her own head, gesturing to you.
You chuckle at her actions, "Yeah I'm fine, just looking at this." You hold up the paper. She 'oh's in realization, but didn't seemed that interested in asking more. "How'd it go?" You hummed at her question, still a little lost in your own head, but you figured out what she was saying. "It went well..." You placed your piece of paper on the ground next to you.
She quirked an eyebrow at you, taking another bite of her sandwich, which she was close to be finishing it. She eyed you before talking, making sure you weren't lying. "Really? That good?" Your eyes slightly widen, where you blushing?
She definitely could see now that you where you getting color on your face, "Okay now you have to tell me how was it!" She threw her hands up, "Excuse me?" Your lips parted as she asked that question, taking you aback of what she said. "You heard me! How was your new tech, is he hot?" She wiggled her eyebrows as she leaned forward, now you where definitely starting to blush. But you where unsure why she asked that out of all the other questions she could've picked. "TELL ME!" She half yells at you, grabbing your arms. Some people near by turned towards the both of you. Confused and somewhat worried as why she was yelling. You mouth out apologies for interrupting their time. You turn back to Minx, whom took her hands off of you and sat quietly, slight embarrassed by her own yelling.
"Okay okay, he was nice. I'm not gonna say anything more though." You throw you hands up in defense as she grunts. She slightly punched your shoulder, "You, ms. Y/l/n, are a fucken tease! You can't just say that and leave!" She raises she voice again, not as loud, but was starting to draw the same people to start looking back at the two of you. This time your getting embarrassed by her yelling. You shush her as she glares at you, somewhat unbothered at the people's attention. "Well. What do you want me to say?" You question her with a laugh as she doesn't stop glaring at you, finally taking her last bite of her sandwich. "What's his name?" She chews on her food while asking, gross.
But as you think, your mind goes blank.
What was his name? But then it hit you, you just didn't even ask for it. He knew your name, but you didn't know his. "I didn't even ask for his name." Your hands slap against your face, hinding away from the embarrassment. You slowly tip backwards, you could feel how hot your face was getting, you need to calm down before Minx could poke fun at you.
She didn't believe you at first but you didn't say anything else so she grabbed the paper that was beside you. She sighed at first but then started to laugh. You questioned her at first as to why she was laughing, but it was quickly answered. "His name is on the top of the paper y/n!!" She fell backwards too, the both of you laugh at the moment.
The two of you just lay back for a few minutes, taking breathes as you stare into the blue sky. Watching as the clouds fly by, it was good.
"His name is Mr. Technoblade, strange name huh?" Minx tells you, you didn't respond, just thinking about him. You got his name...
Technoblade.
Minx rose back up, still a little giggly that you actually didn't ask you your new Professors name. It was a thing that only you would do for sure. "Wait, did your counsel tell you his name before picking his class?" She asks, starting to remember that they did that. "I barely remember what day it is, what'd you think I would remember that!" You start to chuckle, she just shrugs it off.
"So when's your first day again?" She asks, while picking at the grass. "I think on Thursday. It should say the schedule on the back." You pick up the paper once again to read it.
There it was, the whole schedule on what day and what hour his class was on.
-----
After about another hour or so, you and Minx decided to head back to the dorms.
While walking back you pull out your Bluetooth earbuds, handing one to Minx. She gladly took one from you. You turn on Spotify to your special playlist for you and Minx. Some where her songs and the others where yours. It wasn't the best flowing mix of music as some where slow beat and others where pure punk rock. But seemingly each step the both of you where going on beat.
The both of you hummed out the songs that played. It were these sweet moments that you think back to when you think about Minx and your friendship. It was simple, but great.
Walking up each step together, passing random people and some that you seem to pass everyday. Making it to your door. Minx pulls out her set of keys and opens the door for you. "Thank you." She gladly took your thanks and closed the door behind her.
She handed the Bluetooth earbud back to you, you head towards your bed. Once you hop on your twin size bed you lay down. Putting your hands behind your head like this morning. Minx followed you and jumped on your bed. She sat on the other side of your bed, against the wall as she watched videos on her phone.
"You never went to class." You take her by surprise, as you where just relaxing and there wasn't any conversations happening between the two of you. "Eh, fuck it." You start chuckling and she does the same. "Yeah I'm just going to email my teacher that I wasn't feeling to good." She drops her phone to look at you. "Say that you threw up! It works every time." You explain to her, but her face is deadpan. "Really? That's the most used excuse ever Y/n." She roll her eyes at you, but you can tell she was still playing with you. "Then say you got food poisoning! I don't fucken know." You scoffed at her. She thinks for a few seconds then nods. "You're pretty smart for a 2nd year." "Oh shut up." The both end up laughing at each other.
-----
She turns off the light as it was past 11 already and the both of you had to go to classes tomorrow. You knew it was going to be boring as every class was, there wasn't anything exciting you anymore. Maybe it was because your honeymoon phase with college past or you where having enough fun at college anymore. You're only real friend was Minx, the others where people who you would talk in class and that was it. You didn't mind that Minx was your only true friend, but maybe it was time for you to find more people to hang out with, after all you could meet more people in your new class.
That's right, you had a new class to look out for. Next Thursday. You couldn't wait for it.
You pull your covers over your body, resting your phone on its side as you play a youtube video. Your head begins to think back to this afternoon, about your new class and how fun it might be. But then remembering him. Mind drifting to his voice, that voice. Hearing him softly chuckling while he drops his head. There was something in you brain telling you that you shouldn't be wanting to hear his laugh again, but why was it so tempting...
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justanotherblonde23 · 3 years
Text
An Unexpected Surprise - A Marcus Moreno Story
Author’s Note: So with some encouraging from my friends, I decided to post my writing! I know that technically we don’t know anything about Marcus Moreno, but that superhero dad has been taking up space in my mind rent free all week. I tagged people that I know wanted to read this and a few that I thought might enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! -Kat 
Content Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), P in V
Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @hdlynnslibrary @jollyrancher87 @bisexual-space-slut @woakiees @scribbledghost @softpedropascal @catfishingmorales
Marcus trudged into the house, it was at least 2 in the morning, and he was absolutely exhausted. He was always exhausted these days; his age was catching up to him. He may be a part of the Heroics, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting older. He was balancing heroism, kids, a spouse, and trying to give them some semblance of a normal life. He was ready to retire, be involved in every aspect of the kids’ lives, and see his wife in more than just the middle of the night and before leaving for work. He had given enough of his life to the service of the world; now, it was about time to provide all of himself to his family. Missy, his eldest, was already 11 and getting older every single day. Jules, the baby of the family, was about to turn 5, just about to leave the toddler years behind her. He felt as if he had missed so much of their lives; he didn’t want to miss anymore. 
Most of the house lights had been turned off, signaling that most of the inhabitants were fast asleep. He hoped that at least he could get a kiss or two from the woman he loved. Maybe she would still be awake. He made his way up the stairs, checking the kids’ rooms. He planted soft kisses on their foreheads, smiling at their serene expressions. What beautiful little girls he had, he was the luckiest father in the world. 
He frowned, opening the door to the master bedroom; the soft glow of artificial light bathed the room in a yellow haze. There she was, his love, sitting in the middle of the bed, clearly wide awake, wearing her glasses and frowning at the hologram in front of her. Someone was working even later than Marcus himself. He took in her form; she still hadn’t noticed him quite yet. She was wearing a silky nightie that hit her upper thigh and a matching robe loosely tied around her. His cock stirred in his pants. Even as spent as he was from the day, the view in front of him made him want to take her to bed and fuck her senseless. 
“Dr. Moreno, hard at work, I see,” he teased. 
Her eyes shot up, smirking at him. I’m not quite Dr. Moreno yet, Marcus. You’d have to marry me first,” she teased. 
“We had a ceremony-” he started.
“And someone still hasn’t mailed the marriage certificate, even though it’s been two months. All you gotta do is bring it to the post office, baby. I’d do it myself, but somebody insisted that he’d be the one to do it.” 
Marcus groaned, falling onto the bed beside his wife (that’s what she was to him, even if he didn’t mail the marriage certificate yet). He heard some shuffling and a command for her AI system to file the holograms working on for the night. He’d lived with her for four years now, and he still hadn’t gotten used to all her tech. If he was a hero in name, she was the genius behind every piece of technology in his arsenal, as well as all of the other members of the Heroics. Her superpower was her mind, that gorgeous, intricate, genius mind of hers. Her ability to retain information, learn, critically think, and create was almost impossible to fathom truly. At 33, she had twelve doctorates in various fields, including engineering, physics, nanotechnology, and art history. Her thirst for knowledge and eagerness to invent was unparalleled, even among other enhanced individuals. He would never stop singing her praises; she was a wonder. 
“Marcus, baby, do you wanna shower and go to bed? It’s late.” 
He sighed, starting to relax into the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m gonna fall asleep right here and now. I took a shower at HQ before I left, so I’m good.” He opened his eyes when her fingers stilled, looking up at the beautiful woman with the soft smile leaning over him. 
“Do you think you can stay up for a little bit longer, honey? I have a surprise for you.” 
He sat up, scooting up against the headboard, kicking off his shoes. He felt wide awake now. His wife wasn’t typically one for surprises on any old day. He wracked his mind, trying to make sure that he hadn’t missed her birthday, their dating anniversary, or any other consequential, momentous occasion. 
“I didn’t forget a special day, did I? Fuck, amor. I’m so sorry if I did. I’ve been spread so damn thin since the wedding; I’ve been running around like a madman.” 
She placed a tiny cream-colored box in his hands, his wife sitting right in front of him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You didn’t miss anything, Marcus, just open the box. You’ll like it, I promise.” 
He nodded, pulling at the perfect bow holding the box closed, carefully opening the lid. For a minute, he just stared at the contents of the box, his eyes wide with shock. Ever so slowly, he picked up a pair of teeny baby booties, placing them in his large palm. He took the second item out, a pregnancy test that digitally read, PREGNANT. His hands began to shake; tears began to overflow, tracking down his cheeks. He looked up, his gaze locked on the woman in front of him. 
“Sweetheart, are we-? Are you-? We’re- we’re having a baby?” he managed to choke out. 
There was one more item in the box, at the bottom, an ultrasound labeled Baby Moreno. He studied the picture intently, his thumb moving over the little blob on the paper. That was his baby, their baby. They were having a baby. 
“Holy shit,” he murmured, “we’re having a baby!”
A giggle made him raise his eyes once again. “That’s what I said, too. I’m about ten weeks along now. You’re going to be a daddy of three, Marcus Moreno.” 
He scooped up everything in his lap, dumping it on the nightstand. He quickly grabbed his wife, flipping her so that she was under him. He covered her face in kisses, whispering how beautiful she was, how she was so loved, so treasured, so cherished. How their baby was made of nothing but love, how they were precious cargo, and how he would protect both of them every single day of his life. He kissed down her jaw, down her neck, eliciting breathy moans from the woman underneath him. His kisses went lower and lower until he reached her belly, pulling her nightie up around her waist so that he could get to her bare stomach. He planted dozens of kisses all over her belly, in awe of the life growing in there. 
“Hey baby, it’s your daddy,” he cooed softly. “Your mommy and I already love you, little one, and you’ll have two big sisters that I just know will love you too. I can’t wait for you to be here, little baby. I promise I’ll be here for you.” 
He looked adoringly at the mother of his youngest child, grinning as if his world had been made complete, and in all honesty, it had been. This baby, this tiny little one growing inside of the woman that he loved most, filled a hole in his heart that he hadn’t even been aware of. 
He bit down on his lower lip, smirking while ever so slowly pulling off her panties. He would lavish the woman he loved with every ounce of devotion, adoration, and love he had to offer. A breathless Oh please, Marcus was all he needed to motivate him to continue. He opened her legs up, giving him access to her slit, wet and wanting. He groaned, the sight making his mouth water. If he had it his way, Marcus could spend hours between her thighs. Two fingers lightly toyed with her slit, moving up and down, collecting her slick. 
“Look at you, baby, so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you. If this is what pregnancy does to you, amor, I might have to start keeping better work hours so I can spend my time between your thighs.” 
He could see her hips try to follow his fingers, desperate for more than he was giving her. “Marcus, don’t tease, please,” she whined. He chuckled, easily giving in to her pleas. He couldn’t say no to her, not tonight. 
He buried his head between her legs, tongue coming out to lick a broad strip all the way to the top of her slit, his nose nudging her clit. She tasted like heaven, making him moan into her core, sending pleasurable shivers up her spine. He speared his tongue into her, getting as deep as he could, fucking her pussy with his tongue while her fingers tangled themselves in his curls. He kept exploring her folds with his tongue, hitting all the spots he knew would make her see stars. 
He easily pushed in two fingers, causing her to buck her hips up, matching his pace. He focused his tongue on her clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking her into his mouth. His fingers hit that sweet spot inside her with every thrust, bringing her closer and closer to her release. Before he knew it, she was cumming around his fingers, squeezing him tight and pulling him deeper. His mouth flooded with the taste that was uniquely hers, prompting him to moan. He could feel himself rock hard in his pants, leaking with his arousal. 
He crawled off the bed, swiftly ridding himself of his clothes, placing his glasses safely on the nightstand. He grabbed her glasses as well, placing them next to his own. She had shrugged off her robe and nightie, languidly watching him, her eyes blown wide with desire. 
“Marcus, I need you inside of me,” she begged. His large cock rested heavy against his stomach, tip red and leaking. The thought of him inside of her was almost too much. She needed him, and she needed him right now. 
He settled over her, catching her lips in a deep, earth-shattering kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, letting her taste herself. Marcus was intoxicating, enthralling, and all she wanted was more. Finally, they broke apart, panting slightly. 
“Dr. Moreno, my lovely wife, mother of my child, let me make love to you. Let me show you how happy you make me, sweetheart. I want to make you touch the sky,” he whispered into her ear. 
She beamed at him, cradling his cheek gently. “Yes, baby, I’m all yours.” He leaned back in, catching her into another searing kiss. He worked his length up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick, bumping her clit a few times in the process. At last, he began to leisurely enter her, inch by inch. They both groaned when he bottomed out, fully seated inside of her. 
“Fuck honey, you’re just so tight, so wet, so warm for me,” he whimpered, moving inside her with slow, deep strokes. He wanted to make this last, to draw out her pleasure. With every thrust, he told her how good she felt, how beautiful she looked underneath him, how her pussy was made for him, how perfect she was. He could’ve gone like that for quite some time, slowly bringing her closer and closer to her high. Only her pleas of more, faster, harder made him speed up. 
He grabbed one of her legs, placing it higher on his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside her. Her hips moved in unison with his own, meeting each thrust into her. He would never get tired of the pretty sounds she made for him when he was fucking her. Those breathy moans she let out, the babbling it all spurred him on. He could tell she was close. She always got so fucking wet and even tighter right before she came. He dropped a hand between them, rubbing hard, tight circles around her clit. Not even a half dozen thrusts later, and she was wailing in ecstasy, clamping down on him like a vice. He wasn’t far behind, spilling himself deep within her, muttering her name over and over like a prayer. 
He rolled off of her, panting, taking a minute to catch his breath as he gazed at her blissed-out form. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses to Marcus, she was stunning. He couldn’t think of a moment when she was more gorgeous than right then and there. He could look at her forever, just like this. 
Eventually, he got up and grabbed a warm cloth, gently cleaning her off. Turning off the light, he climbed back into bed, pulling her body to his, cradling her close. He let his hand wander, rubbing soothing circles over her belly. 
“You’re gonna look so stunning, honey, all round with our baby. I promise I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll do whatever you need.” 
He could feel his wife sigh, completely relaxed in his arms. He held her close, basking in her warmth and the love between them. He let his mind wander, thinking of the future, thinking of this baby. 
“I’m gonna cut back at work, move more into an advisory role in the Heroics. As your pregnancy progresses, I’ll be able to work from home and take a solid chunk of paternity leave when the baby comes. I’ve given enough of myself to the world. It’s time for me to give everything I can to my family, to you, to the girls, to this baby. I’ll go drop off the marriage certificate tomorrow before I go into HQ to talk about restructuring my job. That way, you’ll officially be Dr. Moreno, even though you’ve already been that to me for a long time.” 
She answered him with a happy sigh and kisses to his hand that entwined with hers. “I’d like that, Marcus. It might be selfish, but I want you here, with us. We love you so much; it’s nice when you’re here. It makes our family complete.” 
They spent a few more minutes talking about the future, drifting off into deep, dreamless sleep. The thought of tomorrow was full of bright promises, just waiting to be embraced. 
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elliesguitarstrings · 3 years
Text
Silence (Part 5)
Masterlist//Series Masterlist
Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way… at least, you don’t think he does.
A/N: Last part!! I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it :) I may or may not do an epilogue to this but we’ll see bc I have a lot of other stuff I want to work on.
Warnings: language, angst with a happy ending
~~~~~~~~
You lay on your bed, contemplating how in the world you’re ever going to manage ignoring Peter on patrol. Truthfully, you know you won’t be able to avoid him, but you want to go as long as possible without talking to him, which will be nearly impossible since it’s just going to be the two of you. Why couldn’t you just go with Nat, or Wanda, or like… anyone else?
Then the dreaded moment comes when your dad calls you downstairs to suit up for patrol. You rush down to the lab before Peter gets there, slipping into the suit you’ve been working on for the past few months. It’s nothing special, just your average stealth suit with a little bit of tech incorporated, but it’s yours. And now you can finally wear it for something other than basic training.
You admire your suit in the mirror, excited to put it to good use. In the reflection, you see Peter walk into the lab, already suited up in everything but his mask. Presumably he already knew you were joining him on patrol, but he still looks surprised to see you nonetheless.
Luckily, before he has the chance to say anything to you, your dad steps in.
“Great, you’re both here! Pete, you know the drill. Station at a tall building, look for bad guys, be back my midnight.”
Peter nods, “Yes sir. Same as always!”
God, what a suck up.
Your dad turns to you, “Y/N, follow Peter’s lead. He’ll brief you on the basics of patrolling and what to expect. Tonight’s a quiet night, but still watch out for trouble. And please, for the love of god, behave yourself.”
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, dad, got it.”
“Alrighty then kids, get to work. See you later.”
You follow Peter out, trailing behind him at quite a distance so you don’t have to talk to him.
Peter starts lecturing you about the basics of patrol (which you already know) as you walk out onto the roof of the compound, getting ready to head to Queens. He offers to swing you there, but you cross your arms and shake your head, still keeping your silent streak. Thankfully, you had installed jet thrusters into your suit, and while they aren’t very strong, they are enough to get you through the short trip to Queens.
As you fly through the city, you contemplate just going off on your own, away from Peter. But you decide that the lecture from your dad when you come back wouldn’t be worth the trouble.
You loosely follow Peter and land on a tall apartment building in the middle of the city. He sits on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city, motioning for you to come sit next to him. Instead, however, you swiftly turn your back and sit on the opposite side. Luckily, he takes the hint and doesn’t come to you, and the two of you sit in silence for a while, with both of you surveying each side of the city.
It’s not until about thirty minutes in that something finally happens. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a man in a black hood sneaking into a dark alley. You know if you say anything to Peter, he would want to come with you, so you slip down the building as quietly as possible, going to see for yourself what’s going on.
At first it looks like an average drug deal, something you could easily stop in no time. But then, you see one of the three hooded men pull a glowing weapon out of his duffel bag, something you recognize as alien tech. You try to sneak further around the corner to get a better look at the weapon, but you make the mistake of not looking down and you step on stick, the crack audibly heard by all three of the men in the alley.
You try to turn and run, but it’s too late. They already have you cornered, each of them equipped with one of the alien weapons, so you prepare to fight.
One of the men slowly inches towards you, weapon in hand.
“Well well well, if it isn’t little Miss. Y/N Stark. Daddy finally let you join the team huh?”
You don’t answer him and reach for the gun in your holster, but stop when you feel another gun pressed to the back of your head.
The man speaks again, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you sweetie. One shot of any of these weapons would kill you in an instant, so I’d do what we say.”
“What do you want from me?” you ask, trying your best to hide the fear in your voice, while also trying to devise an escape plan from this unfortunate situation.
“We’ve been looking for you for a long, long time Miss. Stark. We have questions about your dad and his little gadgets, and you have answers. And you’re going to give them to us, whether you like it or not.”
You decide that it’s now or never, so you take action.
“No.” you state, and swiftly kick the man behind you in the stomach, dodging the blast of his weapon as he shoots it towards you. He’s too hurt to try to shoot again, so you steal the weapon from his hands and hit him across the face, successfully knocking him out.
Unfortunately, you fail to pay attention to the two other men advancing behind you. Before you can even process it, the weapon is knocked out of your hand and you are pinned to the ground, with the smaller man holding your shoulders and the larger one restraining you with his knee. You writhe and struggle to try and loosen their grip, but they are too strong.
“So, you wanna play hard, huh little girl?” the larger of the two men drove his knee further into your abdomen, making you cry out in pain.
The other man speaks up, “Since you won’t cooperate, we’re just gonna have to make you,” he motions to his partner, “get the needle.”
Your eyes widen as the larger man pulls out a giant tranquilizer needle, still keeping you down with his knee. Both of the men tighten their hold on you, trying to restrict your movement. Still, you kick and writhe as much as possible, keeping the man from stabbing you.
“STOP FUCKING MOVING” the smaller man screams, following with a hard blow to your face, drawing blood from your nose and cheek.
At this point, you are helpless, accepting your fate as the needle inches closer to your neck.
“Not so fast!”
Peter.
The needle is snatched out of the masked man’s hand, catching him off guard and making him loosen his grip enough for you to swiftly knee him in the groin. Peter catches the needle and uses it to stab the smaller man in the neck, immediately knocking him unconscious. The man who you had previously knocked out starts to stir again, so Peter runs to fight him while you still struggle with the larger man.
Although the masked criminal is much larger and stronger than you, you are able to use his own strength against him, throwing him to the floor (you learned that from Nat). Establishing control over him, you repeatedly punch him in the face until he is successfully knocked out. Once you are sure the man is fully unconscious, you glance at Peter, who is already webbing up the other two criminals.
You motion for him to web up the man you just knocked out, and you call your dad to explain the situation.
“Good job Y/N, we’ve been looking for those guys for a while now, so not bad for your first patrol. I’m sending agents to come pick the three criminals and bring them to the compound for interrogation, so just wait there with Peter until they show up.”
“Got it dad, thanks,” you say, still breathing heavily from your fight.
“Proud of you kid.”
He ends the call and you smile to yourself, happy that you made your dad proud on your first day as a part of the team.
And then Peter ruins it.
“You’re welcome,” he says flatly.
With all the adrenaline flowing through your veins making your blood boil, you decide to finally break your silent streak.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, would you look at that. She speaks!” he comments sarcastically.
You roll your eyes, “What am I supposed to be thanking you for, exactly?”
“Uh, for just saving your ass out there. Or maybe you didn’t notice that you were about to get tranqued in the neck and kidnapped by some of the city’s most wanted criminals.”
“Oh please, I could have handled myself just fine.”
To be honest, you know you wouldn’t have been able to handle yourself, and deep down you are grateful for Peter coming and saving you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Come on Y/N, we both know that you would have been fucked if I hadn’t come to help.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you Peter.”
“Yeah, okay. Go back to giving me the silent treatment. That’s what got us into this mess anyways.”
“I’m sorry what? How the fuck is this my fault?” your voice is rising increasingly in anger.
“If you had just stopped ignoring me for one fucking second and didn’t sneak off on your own, we could have handled this so much easier!” his voice rises as well.
“Why does it even matter anymore Peter? We took them down anyways, who cares how it happened?”
“Because you’re ignoring me Y/N! And I have no fucking idea why!”
Oh, so he wants to go there.
“Don’t play the innocent card here, you know exactly what you did.”
“Please, enlighten me, because I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about.”
“YOU’RE SHUTTING ME OUT PARKER!”
“I’M SHUTTING YOU OUT? YOU HAVEN’T SPOKEN TO ME IN THREE FUCKING DAYS! YOU’RE THE ONE SHUTTING ME OUT! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS Y/N?”
“BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU OKAY!”
Oh fuck, you just messed up. You didn’t mean to say it, but your mind kept wandering back to your conversation with Nat earlier and it just… slipped out.
Peter stares at you in bewilderment.
“What did you say?” his voice becomes noticeably softer.
Fuck it.
“I love you Peter. I’ve loved you since the first day I fucking saw you when you walked into the compound and we watched A New Hope on my bed and I fell asleep on your shoulder but I know you only see me as a friend and you like MJ and I just ruined our friendship but I-“
Peter cuts you off by pulling you into him and pressing his lips onto yours. After a few seconds he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours and taking your hands in his.
“I don’t like MJ, I like you. Fuck it, you know what, you already said it so why don’t I, I love you. I’ve always seen you as more than a friend but I never thought you felt the same way.”
So many emotions are flowing through your head, trying to process what the fuck just happened. The main one, however, is just plain confusion.
“But then- then why have you been avoiding me for MJ?”
“Is this about our friendiversary thing?”
You nod your head, still trying to get an answer out of Peter as to why he was being such a dick.
“Look Y/N, I know this sounds stupid, but I- I was avoiding you because when you woke me up and told me about our one-year friendiversary, it reminded me that we were just friends, so I got weird. It wasn’t just you that remembered it, I did too. And I was actually planning on telling you how I felt about you, but then I got scared and bailed. And then I invited Ned and MJ to come with us because I didn’t think I would be able to handle myself if it was just me and you. I’m so sorry Y/N, it was such a shitty thing for me to do and I hate myself for it-”
This time it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss, still holding on to his hands.
“I forgive you Peter. And also, I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment for three days,” you laugh.
Peter starts laughing with you, “We’re both such idiots, aren’t we?”
“Yeah. We totally are.”
Both of you are still giggling as you kiss for a third time, this one more passionate. He wraps his arms around your waist and you move yours around his neck, drawing him as close as humanly possible. You deepen the kiss, the both of you completely getting lost in each other, and in this moment, its like you and Peter are the only two people on Earth.
You pull away from Peter only to rest for a moment and catch your breath.
“I love you Peter,” you smile.
“I love you too Y/N, so much.”
~~~~~~~~
Taglist: add yourself to my taglist here!
Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you :(
All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen @thatforgottenangel @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby @i-will-take-care-of--you @hollandprkr @ladykxxx08 @white-wolf1940 @runawayolives @geekgirleve @thathurtbrolol@heyiheardyouwereawildone36
Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe @ifyouwereanybraveryoudbealioness @newsies-yeet @zosia-cichoracki @elismacleod @parkerpeterparker2004 
Series: @t-hollanderr  @allycat449-blog @haley-talks-too-much
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helaintoloki · 4 years
Note
Hi!! If you are still taking request from the prompt list I was thinking #48. The one that says “Making a coffee just the way they like it” for Five. I thought it matched. I hope it’s not too much trouble! >\\\<
a/n: as an avid coffee drinker this one spoke to me on a personal level
* 48: getting them a coffee just the way they like it // taken from this prompt list
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Another late night cramming session has you swearing to yourself that when the next test comes you’ll be better prepared, but you know good and well that you’ll probably just end up procrastinating again. After all, it is what you do best.
“Stay focused,” Five reprimands you as he snatches away the paper you’ve been doodling on instead of taking notes for the past ten minutes. His brows raise when he finds a poorly drawn picture of himself in the corner, his infamous scowl on his lips and the word asshole written across his forehead in bold letters. He’s more annoyed than offended at the drawing, choosing to crumple the notebook paper into a ball before throwing it at your head— carefully, of course, and not with as much strength as he would use if he were throwing it at Klaus or Diego. “You’re only wasting my time and yours.”
“I’m sorry, but we’ve been going at it for hours,” you complain as you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes in an attempt to rub the drowsiness away. “My head hurts and I’m tired.”
“You’re not trying hard enough,” he argues only for you to send a fierce glare his way. You were starting to regret your choices of inviting him over to tutor you, and though he was smart enough to help you complete the work, he was extremely boastful about just how smart he was and it tended to aggravate you. He was conditioned to be competitive due to the constant training and pressure he and his siblings had been put under, and sometimes he forgot that he was there to help, not to compete. It wasn’t his fault and he was working on cutting back his bad habits around you but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.
“Look, I’m going to make us some coffee while you take notes. When I come back we can do some practice tests,” Five says with finality, lightly patting you on the shoulder— he’s still learning how to display acts of praise and acknowledgement so bare with him— before making his way to your kitchen to make your caffeinated drinks.
After countless visits and secret outings to your house, Five knows your kitchen like the back of his hand. Your parents had always told him to “help himself” to whatever he wanted, and he took up their offer rather quickly. A lot of things that weren’t allowed in his own home were allowed in yours, and he took advantage of the small slice of normalcy these visits brought him.
You have one of those high tech coffee machines which makes the work easier, though Five prefers the traditional pot of coffee instead of coffee pods, and when the cups are finished he sets them out on the counter before turning to the fridge in search of the coffee creamer.
Five considers himself to be a simple man who enjoys a simple cup of black coffee, it’s easy and you can drink it as soon as it’s done brewing. But you can’t stand the awfully bitter taste of it, and so you don’t drink coffee unless its dull taste has been masked with the sweetness of creamer; you never use sugar because it takes too long to stir and by the time you’re done there’s about twenty opened packets lining the table which makes you feel very bad about the resulting mess you’ve created. Your go to creamer brand is Coffee Mate, though sometimes during the fall you turn to Starbucks for their holiday themed creamers, and you enjoy flavors such as French vanilla, Italian sweet cream, and chocolate caramel. Your coffee habits are high maintenance and honestly a bit ridiculous in Five’s eyes, but who is he to dictate how someone enjoys the caffeinated beverage.
When Five stirs the creamer into your coffee he makes sure to put in the proper amount so that it is neither too bland nor too sweet for your taste pallet, and he makes sure to add a nice swirl of whipped cream on top— something you like to add on occasionally from time to time. After all his unnecessary efforts to make you the perfect cup of coffee, Five takes the two mugs and rejoins you at the table where you have your nose buried in your textbook.
“This should keep you awake,” he says as he sets the cup down before you. You don’t miss the fact that he chose your favorite mug for your drink nor the fact that it took him longer than usual to make the coffee. His efforts are duly noted and appreciated, and this is displayed through the content sigh that leaves you once the warm liquid meets your lips.
“Thanks Five,” you smile gently, exhaustion clear on your features and a stray stand of hair falling in front of your face that he has to refrain from tucking away.
“Don’t mention it,” he says with a small shrug. He doesn’t pester you with anymore work nor does he press you to study harder. Instead, you sit together in the comfortable silence and sip your drinks as Five notes that he wouldn’t mind making you coffee more often.
725 notes · View notes
interstellarflare · 4 years
Text
Bend and Break || Homelander
-PART ONE-
Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.
Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.
Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. Gif by @stream​
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You had no idea how you ended up providing intel for The Boys. You didn’t even know how they managed to find you.
You were a nobody, a nobody who so happened to be very knowledgeable around technology. You hacked into secure companies that were affiliated with The Seven, media outlets, private companies and the like, and gained whatever information you could before passing it on to the leader of The Boys himself, Billy Butcher. He stopped by your apartment at random hours during the day and night, giving you set deadlines to complete certain assignments before he came to retrieve the intel. No one knew who you were. You were so mysterious in fact, that the general public had even given you a name. The Watcher.
Not long after you were given your name, The Seven were notified of your existence. Madelyn Stillwell explained to The Seven that their servers had been hacked, and several files of important information had been taken in a matter of seconds. It was a serious security breach, and Madelyn wanted whoever did this killed. Homelander couldn’t help but agree. He volunteered to personally to do it himself, to a send a message to The Boys. It would be a good publicity stunt. If The Watcher was stopped, then The Boys would lose their only source of information. Plus, the public would love him even more.
But unfortunately for you, you had made a mistake. Vought International traced the IP address to your apartment a few days after your cyber attack, and Homelander was en route within the hour. It was a shitty apartment complex, fitting he supposed, for one who would commit such a crime against him and his colleagues. A huge uproar occurred outside the building, drawing your attention toward the ground floor. When your eyes met the form of the famous superhero waving to the adoring crowd as he entered through the lobby, a string of disgusting curses escaped your lips. There was no point in running, he could catch up easily. There was no point in hiding, the fucker could see through walls. There was nothing you could do except panic internally, and hope that maybe Billy and the others knew about this conundrum.
Before you had another second to think, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, eventually stopping in front of your apartment door. You stood in the centre of your apartment, debating whether or not to open the door and atop that horrendous knocking, or answering Billy’s distress call on your laptop. If you made a run for your laptop, he would know. There was no doubt that the son of a bitch was using his x-ray vision to watch you sweat. He was probably reviling in the fact that he had caught you, and that there was nowhere for you to go. Regretfully and hesitantly, you moved towards the door, steadying your breath before throwing it open. You swallowed thickly as your gaze met Homelander’s blue hues, as he stared down at you with that stupid fake Hollywood smile of his. With his hands braced on his hips in that cliche superhero stance, he pointed accusingly at you, trying to keep up his heroic image as a crowd began to gather in the hall. “You, are one hard person to find Miss L/n...” he began, laughing mockingly as the crowd gathered around your apartment door.
Your eyes flickered around the crowd, some tenants you recognised, others you didn’t. Biting your lips nervously, your shrugged your shoulders as calmly and nonchalantly as you could. “I like to keep it that way...” you responded confidently, holding his gaze despite your growing fear “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”. Homelander grinned, and without saying a word, he pushed past you into your apartment, his eagle shoulder pad deliberately knocking you out of the way. You clenched your jaw, giving the gathered crowd one last warning glare before slamming the door in their faces. You heard several muffled shouts, and hushed voice talking. What could Homelander possibly want with her? What makes her so special?
“So, you are The Watcher?” He spoke tauntingly, folding his arms intimidatingly over his chest as you turned to face him. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nodded slowly, your eyes landing on your laptop screen once again. Billy was still trying to contact you, and it was by sheer dumb luck that the tyrant in front of you didn’t notice. Homelander’s eyes narrowed, glowing a faint red as he approached “You know, you’ve done a very bad thing...” he spoke lowly, moving so close to you that your back hit your apartment door with a loud thump. Homelander could hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest, though your breath came out even and slow. “I want back what you stole from Vought International, now” he growled stepping closer so that there was barely any space left between you. You looked up at the superhero in front of you with a shrug of your shoulders, slipping out of that small space and making your way over to your laptop.
“Sorry, but I don’t have it anymore...” you responded blatantly, pressing the ‘decline’ button to Billy’s call. Homelander’s eyes returned to their normal blue out of shock, as he turned to face you bewilderedly. You leaned against the desk beside your laptop, your head tilted to the side in an almost carefree nature. In a matter a seconds, your demeanour had changed entirely. How? You were just terrified of him...he could hear your heart beating like crazy. “I’m sorry, what?...” he asked in disbelief “where is it then?”. “It’s long gone by now, The Boy’s probably have it now, so I don’t think you’ll be getting it back anytime soon”. How dare you. He was Homelander, the world’s greatest superhero, how dare you, a mere human speak to him this way. Downplaying your words, you watched as Homelander’s expression darkened, before he used his superhuman speed to suddenly appear before you in a burst of wind. You released a sharp cry as Homelander gripped your forearm, using his superhuman strength to apply agonising pressure to your limb. You winced, tears flowing freely from your eyes as he leaned forward, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear.
“I’ve changed my mind, I don’t even want the information anymore...” he began, tightening his grip which made you release a pained cry “I just want Billy Butcher. Now, I know you have contact with him. If you don’t tell me where he is in the next five seconds, I’m going to break your arm”. You shrieked, trying to pry your arm from his grip to no avail. “Five..” Homelander began, slowly squeezing your arm “four-”
“I don’t know where he is! I’m telling the truth!” “I don’t believe you, three...” He continued, as you screamed for him to let you go. You squirmed, you kicked, you tried anything and everything to get him to let go. “Two...” he whispered tauntingly, no doubt enjoying your pain. You were panicking by now. What could you do? What could you say to get him to believe you? “STOP! He comes by my apartment at random times of the day and night. There isn’t a set schedule, that’s all I know I swear!”. Silence enveloped the apartment, the only sound heard was your soft cries as the pain in your forearm became unbearable. But just like that, it disappeared as Homelander released you from his hold. You collapsed to the floor of your apartment, sobbing quietly as you held your arm to your chest. Through your tearful gaze, you could already see your arm starting to bruise, the vibrant red slowly turning to a deep purple.
Heavy footsteps approached as Homelander knelt down before you. Cupping the side of your face with his gloved hand, he lifted your head up to meet his gaze. With a small victorious smile, he spoke authoritatively “Then how about you and I make a little arrangement. I’ll stop by at random times of the day and night as well, that way, I’m bound to catch him at some point right? And when I do, I’ll kill you to set an example. How does that sound?”. You said nothing as Homelander stood up, his touch lingering as a silent promise to his threat. “Oh, and I forgot...” he called out, turning to face you with a smirk “Don’t even think about warning him, I’ll know” he continued, motioning to his ears in reference to his superhuman hearing before walking through your apartment door. As he disappeared through the adoring crowd still gathered outside, you began to sob loudly.
You had never been more terrified in your life. Your arm still hurt like hell as you trudged towards your phone, which had been vibrating non-stop the entire time. There were five missed calls from Billy, and about seven texts, all of them containing a stunning variety of swear words which you didn’t know existed.
‘Answer me damn it, fucking hell woman. What’s going on over there?’
Your hands trembled as you replied, your breath uneven as your heart thundered in your ears.
‘Not safe to talk. He knows’.
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for-lovely-things · 3 years
Note
For the physical prompt : “Come on, let’s take a nice bath together.” ♥
3. “Come on, let’s take a nice bath together.”
Thank you for the ask! I felt very frustrated and sad today, so this is what came out :'D Hidden under the cut 'coz TW! Injuries and Blood, also slight NSFW
V spits on the floor, feeling a metallic taste in his mouth. He doesn’t need to look down to know that there’s blood.
With shaking hands he picks up his gun, noting how many cartridges he has left. Not much, but he can’t really do anything about that. Wiping the sweat away and most definitely leaving blood on his own forehead, V leans to the wall tiredly.
The fight was cruel, his life on one side of the scales against the lives of the others. Scales leaned to his side, but he barely made it, missing out on a couple of shots from a tech weapon. Hurt as fuck and shook everything in him with electromagnetic impulse, but didn’t leave an open wound, as usuall bullet would. But V certainly shouldn’t have let it hit his chest, as he will now continue spitting blood for at least an hour.
He felt as if someone squeezed his ribs right into his lungs, smudging them into a bloody mess, or as if someone dropped a still flaming cigarette down his throat, letting it burn through his capillaries… Yeah, better not think about that.
Giving himself a little time to catch his breath, V sticks a bounce back into the chest, and life becomes brighter and more colorful immediately, pain subsiding gradually. Sitting at the wall for a bit longer until he stops hearing how the blood flushes in his ears and ignoring all the dead bodies surrounding him, Vincent finally gets up.
The gig is closed and he is free to go wherever he wants, but instead of visiting a ripper-doc, V decides to head home. Well, not his home exactly, he usually corrects himself, knowing that Kerry still hasn’t legally allowed him to stay. Not like he asked… he knew the answer will be “No.” But he still enjoyed calling the place “home” from time to time, he had to indulge himself at least a little, right?
To avoid that scary “No” he also doesn’t warn Kerry he is coming, just entering the villa. It was always open for him, so that small thought soothes V, when he clears the throat to shout “Hi”.
He hears a soft chuckle from the lounge room, and walks up to Kerry, who’s strumming his guitar.
“Chaotic as ever, huh?” Eurodyne looks up at him with a smile, but it disappears slowly the longer he studies his lover’s appearance, “For fuck’s sake, what happend to you?”
He gets up quickly, taking his face in his chiseled fingers to inspect his bloody forehead, when clinges at his dirty clothes, lifting up his shirt to touch his skin softly, but finds only bruises and other’s blood.
“I’m fine, mommy,” V tries to joke that off, pushing Kerry’s hands away slightly, and lands on the sofa across from him, “You know how my work usually is.”
Ker gives him a long look, before turning away, sitting back at his previous spot, “Yeah, just… You’re usually more careful.”
V bites the inside of his cheek, of all emotions suddenly feeling anger. It doesn’t help tucking it away, so he blows up with “Ah, yes, someone beat the shit outta me and I’m the one to blame!” “Hey, don’t get off your shitty mood on me,” Kerry’s voice is even as ever, and Vicky shuts, crossing his arms on the chest.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, looking down at his own hands. They are still bloody, dried blood getting under his black nails, and V nervously picks at them, cleaning them off with his best efforts. His head still hurts terribly after his cyberdeck was painfully fried with an enemy's daemon, and Vincent sighs heavily.
Kerry can’t ignore that heart-tearing scene before him anymore and stands up, drawing his lover’s attention.
“C’mon, let’s take a nice bath together,” Eurodyne steps further, knowing V will follow him, and smiles, when he actually does.
“But you don’t have a bath,” Vicky mumbles yet again, as he always does when feeling upset, but having no possibility to let it out properly, almost like a child facing his emotions for the first time.
“Maybe, but I have a shower,” Kerry winks to him, taking his hand so they go a little faster. He feels how Vincent tries to rip the palm out of his grip at first, before eventually letting him take the lead, and smirks secretly.
In the bathroom Kerry helps him to undress, despite the fact that V claims that he’s “fine”, ‘cause poor man simply can’t even bend without gasping from pain. He receives that care silently, looking as if the whole world personally offended him by making the hurt exist.
Finishing to strip him, Kerry throws his own clothes away, and they unite in the shower. The water is comfortably warm, easing V’s headache little by little, and he becomes a bit less grumpy, even allowing his partner to rub his bare skin with a soaped washcloth. Vicky hisses at times, and Kerry lightens the touch, circling the bad areas.
“Where exactly do you feel pain, babe?”
“Everywhere,” V breathes out, slipping into his soft hands.
Ker slides his hand over his ribs, “Here?”
Vicky nods, lungs still itching from the blow.
“Here too?” his fingers go a bit lower, brushing over the old nasty scar, while he catches V’s eyes with his. Kerry’s eyes darkened in the dim light of the bathroom, and a couple of drops got stuck in his short eyelashes.
“No,” Vincent gulps, looking back at his hand, feelings sharpening as the tips of his fingers go lower, touching at the sensitive place at the beginning of V’s pubes.
This is almost weird how gently Kerry touches him, and Vicky lets himself lean into it, something hundred times better than pain. His hand finishes its way, rubbing carefully at his cock, and V gasps, tugging his lover into the kiss. Kerry is soft, accurate, not pressing at him so he doesn’t feel pain, and V leans at the wall, seeking support so his legs don’t bend so stupidly fast.
Both blush, heavy breathing filling the room along with the overwhelming sound of falling water. Vicky moans quietly, Kerry catching it, covering his mouth with his, and everything V can feel or think about is him.
As he nips at his jaw, it doesn’t take the younger man long until he reaches his climax, spilling between their bodies and over his lover's hand. Kerry lets go of him, kissing him one more time, before he flushes away all the mess from their stomachs, while V is a bit out of it, still breathing unevenly.
This is, honestly, exactly what he needed, but he didn’t expect it the way it happened. Kerry just kept with his business as he worked him off, and Vincent just can’t wrap his mind about that.
“You’re not even gonna..?”
“What?” He soaps his own hair, opening only one eye to look at him.
“Well…” V doesn’t finish the thought, realising suddenly how stupid he might sound. He can’t even accept a handjob without feeling like he owes him something. But damn, he does.
“You don’t have to do all of that. I’m not really that good, or smart, or…”
“Stop it, Vincent,” Kerry shuts him with a kiss, and V can’t help but succumb to it, “I just want you to feel good, that's all.”
V smiles, suppressing the tears that come to him more often than it was usual for him, and just let’s himself rest, while Eurodyne keeps caring for him. Maybe he even could get used to that.
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steve0discusses · 3 years
Text
Yugioh S5 Ep 18: A Series of Ecological Disasters
Booting up ye old Yugioh, booting up a new aesthetic playlist to type to. (today’s playlist is webcore, which would feel like such a damn fake aesthetic, if it weren’t that every single one of these -core aesthetics are pretty damn fake and everyone knows it.)
Anyway, it’s been so long that, I’ll be honest, I thought I booted up the wrong episode:
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I usually skip the anime intro, but I try to watch it once each arc, cuz the intros change, and this arc was like “screw it, here’s all the other villains, just pretend this arc isn’t happening.” They had Pegasus, they had Marik, they have Bakura (who is kind of in this shot as well, you can see him phasing in there.) And like...I guess they’re hiding the villain of this arc or something because that was it. Alexander the Great got just nixed from this villain list and that’s a shame.
Just a real weird choice, but since apparently this arc didn’t air in Japan they probably had to outsource this anime intro and whatever studio in charge of it just cobbled together stuff from every other season and then a couple of shots of capsule stuff.
Speaking of capsule stuff: get a load of how many freakin lines the animators have to deal with every time they draw Grandpa.
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Bro saw this and was like “oh yeah, this is a Shonen Jump” and yeah. The hair does give those vibes. We got a good look at what Vegeta would look like if he really let himself go.
(read more under the cut)
Sorry, my playlist started playing a song where every single line of the song is “Adrien Brody” and it took me like a few minutes to realize I was listening to “Brodyquest” completely seriously.
Damn it, webcore, don’t betray me like this.
Anyway, this arc does something super surprising: Yugi actually hugs somebody and doesn’t look like he’s going to pass out standing up.
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It is pretty fitting that the good Yugi hug would go to Grandpa.
And, as night falls, Joey Wheeler has gotten hungry, and there is nothing to eat but his new best friend and spirit animal, baby dragon. Unfortunately he shares life points with the dragon, and I think if you eat it that just instakills you.
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And directly underneath him--since this world is like 100 feet wide and things just conveniently happen--Tea has told everyone that they needed to stop worrying about Joey. Which is a lot coming from Tea, because her worrying about Yugi/Yami getting hurt is most of what occupies her headspace in this series.
But even Tea was like, screw Joey, I guess.
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Who kinda just falls directly into them upside down, and shows us what Joey’s hair looks like when it’s sticking straight up.
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For reals, admire how long Joey Wheeler’s hair is. If Tea were upside down, she would have the same length of hair.
Also speaking of Vegeta, I am low key concerned that Joey has what appears to be a significant amount of male pattern balding going on for a teenager.
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Apparently getting set on fire many, many times did have an effect on Joey, and this massive pompadour he wears is a combover. Poor baby.
Holy crap, if this is what card stress and getting killed multiple times did to Joey Wheeler, can you imagine what’s going on under Seto’s bangs? That’s probably why his bangs ride so low, Seto likely wears a freakin toupee.
Guys, Joey’s gonna lose his hair at 25 at this rate. Those locks just aren’t long for this world. Poor baby.
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After Joey rejoins the party, he immediately eats all of their food. Not sure why they can’t just have Baby Dragon eat like...whatever Baby Dragon naturally eats...and then transform that into shared Joey Wheeler life points, but it’s not clear exactly how much of a life-connection they have with their Yugioh monsters. Not like it matters because Joey Wheeler is default starving all the time anyway.
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Tristan has decided we should start laying blame, I guess because Duke Devlin isn’t here anymore to be the local kill joy. This doesn’t seem to be important at any point, and most of the characters are just ignoring Tristan because like...once you’re in the haunted game in a haunted tomb in a random part of India--it’s kind of moot to argue about who’s fault that is, youknow?
Joey reminds us that he found this quest item in a treasure chest under a secret waterfall. No one says “that was convenient that you landed there after getting chased through a ravine by man-eating birds after you got your dragon from when you got your crotch injury from getting spliced by that tree.”
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Which is when Tea says “Wait! We haven’t had a plot thing happen in like 4 seconds! Wait!”
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Hey what degree of “I don’t trust nature” do you have to be to assume that all the flowers are trying to eat you?
Like what level of anxiety is Tea where she not only is like “pretty sure the flowers are going to destroy us?” but also...she’s correct? Like she’s not wrong.
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They set the dog flowers on fire, but unlike the Jungle Book this doesn’t solve any problems (which apparently got taken off the Disney+ kid’s menu so...yet again, I make a Disney reference in these recaps that future generations will not understand because so much of the Disney library has been banned from the vault. It’s almost like Disney should let go of that copyright they held on for like a hundred years, because what they’re holding on to is only going to get more racist with time. But nah. Gotta hold on with their greedy mickey mouse gloves.)
So instead of using fire, Tristan used his monster to electrocute the air (?) and blind the dogs. Wisely, the animators quickly jumped to this other scene so we wouldn’t have to analyze why it’s suddenly daytime or why that plan would even work.
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Joey and Tristan do a lot of buddy buddy stuff this arc. Usually we see a lot of Joey and Yugi’s bottomless friendship, but we don’t get this much Tristan/Joey love. So shippers rejoice, these two seem to have several coordinated dances and songs...and I’d say that teens don’t typically do that, but I went to summer camp, there are situational places where teens will sing the entire vacation and make coordinated dances.
Weirdly, since Joey and Tristan share so much time together, this also means Tea and Yugi actually sit next to eachother for a lot of this arc, almost as if they were a couple. Mind you, they’re chaperoned closely by Grandpa, but youknow...that’s a different energy than I’m used to seeing.
That and like, they can’t have Tea dance with them because last time she did a dance, it was like a DDR fight and she elbowed some guy like it was a fisticuffs situation. Like there was some sort of dance war going on behind the scenes of Yugioh’s card war, and it came up once and I guess Tea resolved it and the dance fights haven’t come back since.
Overall, if they did a dance with Tea, they would get kneed in the face, so that’s probably why they insist on doing cancans as a duet and not a trio.
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After Joey and Tristan freak out over having no food, Tea decides to just start eating in front of them.
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and like...didn’t Joey eat that food yesterday? Like last night? The short term memory loss on all these fools.
Immediately after this we realize something weird in the water. That’s right, it’s a massive head.
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Yugi seems to have forgotten they lit this turtle on fire and electrocuted the entire sky the night before. Not that it mattered.
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There were like...nesting birds on those trees on that island. What the hell? They just killed so MANY of those man-eating dogs that are flowers.
Seriously are land turtles allowed to just...dive underwater for long periods of time? How does that ecosystem even work? It’s like...That’s wild to think about.
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Inside the temple, they have to fight a genie or something.
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In case you were wondering, the only reason Tea and Grandpa got iced is because they were the closest to the door. The two who were actually standing out of harms way were the closest to harm the whole time.
Bro tells me this is also what will happen to you if you are in the front or the back of the party while playing Cthulu D&D
Anyway, Pharaoh decides to disclose that his big problem of feeling guilty all the time and taking all the blame, which he did all of last season...is still a huge problem he will probably never tackle.
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Straight up, don’t be fooled by my caps, everyone else has completely forgotten about Alex, who is still running around that temple up there. They haven’t even asked Grandpa “hey is this your protege? Is this your mentee you never told us about?” Nah. They already forgot. 
How wild is it that Pharaoh thinks this is all his fault when he was the only one who was like “YUGI IT’S A TRAP DON’T GO IN THE- well...OK I guess we’re doing this, fine.” Is he upset he didn’t take control from Yugi and walk back to the plane? Because that’s the only way he could even be partially responsible, He was the only guy who was like “I see the end from the beginning on this y’all, and it’s the massive pyramid in India.”
Speaking of forgetting, they came across this language Pharaoh has decided to have nothing to do with.
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This was actually a riddle and it was like...it was a riddle, sure, I guess.
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And so Joey Wheeler does not hallucinate his dead wife from a previous incarnation and get on the back of his Baby Dragon to sail away into the sunset. Instead they’re just gonna walk.
Too bad Tea’s orb covered in wings only seems to hover a bit. Every single wing on that weird orb is absolutely useless.
And then Pharaoh’s pokemon is just a fire--which is hard to sit on--and Celtic Guardian...who would allow it, sure, but probably doesn’t fly (I think. He might fly)
And then Tristan’s Pokemon kinda seems like if you sit on it, you will get electrocuted. It can probably fly though. It’s very round. Seems like an anime thing that the more round your mascot character is, the more likely it can at least bounce a good distance.
So, next time, I’m just going to assume that we are going to do even more camping. And youknow, if you told me exactly HOW MUCH CAMPING was in this card game show with super future tech, I would not have believed you. But like...a lot of this series is set in the woods right? Like a lot a lot? I have grown to appreciate the woods.
Anyway, as always, if you just got here, this is a link to read these in chrono order:
https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono
See you next time!
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Text
You are my sunshine (Finn x GN reader)
What is this? This is 7/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. (More deets in pinned post). The prompt is from @phoenixhalliwell​ and is Finn with “You think something is wrong but I simply have a huge crush on you and turn to jelly whenever you’re around.” Emma, thanks so much, and I hope that you like this! <3 I don’t write Finn often so I dearly hope I did him justice!
Author’s note: Finn! He’s precious. He deserves everything! Hope you enjoy this- there’s a little bit of angst but it’s followed by fluff. Everything ends well <3
Word count: 3k. You had all better be proud of me for writing something less than 5k :P
Warnings: lil bit of angst (reader thinks Finn is mad at them). Trapped in a cockpit but no danger / not claustrophobic or anything. Slight reader insecurity. It’s pretty light tbh :o)
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You watch Finn leave with a sharp pang of pain. His excuses are becoming more and more elaborate, and it’s wearing thin. 
 “Sorry, I have to go and deal with a porg infestation on the Falcon.”
“I can’t hang around, Leia’s fuming mad at Poe - he made some crude Outer Rim innuendo during the briefing and she is pissed.”
“I can’t play sabacc anyway because... because I got dust in my eyes on the mission and everything is blurry.”
“I have to run and...” and then he, in fact, ran away from you.
Alright, the first two were feasible, but that last one, especially? Pretty kriffing flimsy.
It was beginning to sting a little. Alright, a lot. You and Finn usually hung out, whenever he was around on base. You always had, ever since Finn had taken control of his fate and been welcomed by the Resistance.
Since then, you had become his first real friend, and when everything was scary and new to him, you had held his hand. Literally- Finn was always reaching for you. For comfort. For reassurance. To demonstrate his fondness of you. Just because.
Of course, he’d settled into the Resistance like he’d always been a part of it, and had quickly formed a range of new friendships, including with Poe and Rey - all the cool kids on base. Of course he had. The man is likeable, courageous, and he has sunshine in his heart - despite being raised in the shadows. The strength of his light is so powerful that it blinds you sometimes. So, he’d made other friends, but you had always been his first, and his best.
At least, until now.
Recently, Finn’s touches and warm hugs and light had begun to retreat from your sky. You miss his bright brown eyes and his beaming smile desperately. You miss your movie nights and long chats. You miss laughing until your sides hurt. You miss the way he can turn anything into an adventure. The way he really listens when you talk, and his good, brave, generous heart.
This distance? It is more than a natural drift - it is more an intentional break. Intentional on his side, at least. Most definitely not on yours.
You don’t know why. You don’t know what you’ve done wrong…
…But you are determined to find out.
And, if Finn won’t talk to you off his own back, you’ll simply have to concoct some flimsy excuse of your own.
***
That’s exactly what you do, yourself and Finn now sealed together, alone, in the cockpit of some old cargo ship.
“You’ve trapped us in here?!” the man exclaims, voice loud and ringing with a rising panic.
“No,” you sigh, defeatedly. You don’t want to panic him - you just want to talk to him; without him running away. “You’re not trapped. Obviously, I’d never actually...” you trail off as you watch Finn urgently button-bashing on the control panel by the door, clearly pretty desperate to leave. “I just thought…” you explain, raising your voice a little to be heard over his rising and increasingly vocal frustration. “It was supposed to be a chance for us to talk.”
Finn turns towards you, all this energy coiling in his body, practically bouncing on his toes in his rush to get out of there. He looks as though the prospect of talking to you fills him with dread.
Your face drops. You should have realised this was a bad idea.
“We talked this morning,” Finn defends, weakly. Yeah, for all of two seconds. “Can’t you open this thing?” he pleads, throwing his thumb towards the door.
Fine. Whatever. If he’s that desperate to flee from you, so be it. Maybe you need to accept the fact that things aren’t the same between you anymore. Maybe never will be. Your heart aches in your chest.
Your shoulders slumping, you push the Jedi-in-training and all-round Resistance hero aside, punching the unlock code into the panel.
It beeps angrily in response.
A furrow in your brow, you try again.
“Oh, kriff.”
“What is it?” Finn asks from over your shoulder.
This is fine, actually. You have a back-up. Except, you pat your belt for your communicator, remembering at the same time exactly where you left it in the hangar.
“Okay,” you turn around to face him, your face locked in an apologetic grimace, hands raised in surrender. “So, we may actually be trapped now, but I would like to emphasise this was very much not The Plan.”
Finn purses his full, brown lips together, in entirely transparent irritation, an ire brewing in his eyes.
“I’m sorry!” you say defensively, though you note that your friend, Finn, would have found this funny -made the best of it- and the Finn is front of you now is someone else entirely.
“Being stuck here with you is the last thing I need right now,” Finn says into his hands, the words muffled, and yet their meaning perfectly -and painfully- clear.
Oh. Okay. That’s how it is?
You take a step back from him, wrapping your arms around yourself and rotating quickly away to face the transparisteel window. His harshness feels so alien to you, and bitter tears sting in your eyes, which you don’t want him to see.
“Kriff. That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong,” Finn says softly from behind you, and you finally hear the familiar kindness infusing his voice. The kindness you’ve been so desperate to enjoy again these past weeks. “What I meant was... was...”
Your back to him still, you raise your arm in the air. “Save it, Big Deal. You don’t want to talk to me? Let’s not talk,” you bite, your voice low and taut.
You’ve given Finn the benefit of the doubt for long enough now. Maybe this was a problem you shouldn’t try to fix. He obviously likes things precisely as they are.
Finn, for his part, hovers beside you, clearly apologetic, but you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you focus all of your energies on popping open the console, pulling out the wire guts, and looking for a way to open this damn door.
He may have been running away from you, but now you’re the one who wants nothing more than to get out of there.
You had wanted to talk, but all of a sudden you don’t want to hear it. You can’t take one more flimsy excuse without breaking.
***
You’d tried everything. Banging on the door, waving out of the viewports. Trying to find a hatch to escape out of. There was nothing left to do but wait for your data patch to run. You’d linked-up some wires and an old data-pad to the controls, and it was simply a matter of time before your program loaded, overriding the door panel and thus letting you out of there.
Unfortunately, the small matter of time is proving problematic. It has already been about an hour, and the screen indicates your program is only about 75 per cent through -blasted old tech- and you’re not sure how much longer you can endure this fraught, awkward silence. 
Save for your escape attempts, you and Finn still haven’t spoken, and, eventually admitting defeat, you have each sunk to the floor on opposite sides of the cockpit, your knees drawn-up to your chest and backs pressed against the walls of the cool metal chamber. Now, the increasingly cool metal chamber, as the afternoon draws on and the suns begin to sink below the horizon.
You sigh.
“Why are you avoiding me, Finn?” you finally ask, firmly, bringing your eyes to meet his. “And, I beg you. No more kriffing excuses.”
Finn’s knees are drawn-up too, and his elbows resting on top of them, fingers weaving and fiddling together somewhere in the middle as your question finds him.
He purses his lips together once more, his bright, expressive eyes brimming with trepidation, his hand coming up to self-consciously brush against the tip of his rounded nose.
Eventually, his head drops down, until you’re only looking at the top of it. He’s growing out his tightly-coiled, black hair on the top, sides closely cropped, and you idly note that the length suits him. There’s nothing else to note, as he still isn’t saying anything.
Still, when you take a step back from your anger and your boredom, you recognise all the signs of him being anxious, now that he can no longer run away from your questions.
“It’s not what you think,” he sighs, and you shake your head in continued frustration and look sharply away, up and out of the viewport.
And, in the continued absence of an answer from him, your insecurities begin to fill in the blanks. “You know, Big Deal, you don’t have to hang around me just because I’m the first person you met.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Finn’s head snap up to look at you, distress shining in his eyes. You ignore it. “If you’ve decided this friendship isn’t what you need anymore, I can take it. I just wish you’d stop bullshitting me. I deserve better than that.”
Then, you try to suppress it, but you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm. You’ve felt chilly for a while now, but you have desperately been trying to conceal the fact.
Without missing a beat, Finn slips his -Poe’s- jacket off from his shoulders, shuffling closer to you, without rising from the floor. As he shrugs it off, he reveals nothing but a white, ribbed vest underneath, tight over his toned figure, and tucked into his belt at his waist. The vest sits in contrast with the deep brown of his skin, the bulge of his cultivated muscles evident in his strong, densely-packed shoulders and arms.
This? This is precisely what you’ve been trying to avoid. You feel warmer already.
Regardless, he moves to your side, kneeling next to you, and he pauses when he gets there. Hesitates. He lifts his finger, running it ever so slowly over the textured goosepimples on your forearm. “You’re cold,” he states, his voice so deep and rich, and his touch and his proximity sending a shiver through you in an entirely different way. You’d like to argue, you really would, but he weakens you, his sudden warmth melting you quickly after his long absence, and you let him guide you forward enough that he can drape his jacket around your shoulders. It is still warm from his body heat. It smells like him.
You wanted silence, but this is the kind that you don’t like; tense, albeit in a different way.
“Thank you,” you say thinly, expecting Finn to pull immediately away again. But he doesn’t.
Instead, his eyes go a little wide and afraid, even as he sets his jaw determinedly. He reaches his hand out, ghosting it slowly down the length of your arm, until he has scooped one of your hands up and flattened it in-between his own broad, warm palms.
Holding your hand.
You’ve missed that so much.
You watch Finn in gentle puzzlement, as his pink tongue nervously swipes out over his bottom-lip. And, with your eyes gently encouraging him to go on, he finally blurts it out. He finally says what he’s been keeping from you.
“I have a huge crush on you. I turn to kriffing jelly whenever you’re around me.”
Your hand suddenly becomes clammy, held in-between his. Your heart quickens.
Wait, what?
“I’m so sorry if I hurt you,” he says, his eyes soft like distant starlight. “It’s just, I panic. I know I like to pretend I’m all smooth...” he chuckles self-consciously, that laugh sounding from deep in his chest, and oh boy, you’ve missed that sound too. You’ve missed that gorgeous pearly smile, which blooms tentatively on his face.
“Smooth?! You do a terrible job of that, Finn, no-one’s buying it,” you tease, but it’s fond, your free hand settling on top of his, and your eyes crinkling with reciprocal joy as his beautiful broad smile widens, his face full of sparkle and light.
“Oh? Okay. That’s how it is?” he laughs.
You’ve missed this. Have missed him.
That’s it? That’s all it is? He has a crush?
After a few moments, the two of you apparently basking in relief -on your part that you haven’t done anything wrong, and on his, that his confession is finally through- his smile naturally falls from his lips; however, it lingers in his eyes, that gentle starlight back again.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just… kept messing everything up around you. I didn’t want you to think I was the biggest dumbass on base.”
“Oh, Finn, honey-” you grin, and he completes the sentence with you, nodding, and a big chuckle falling out of him. “Poe is the biggest dumbass on base.”
Isn’t that the truth?
You simply look at each other for a moment, all this starlight swirling in the space between you.
“Come here,” you say softly, finally, unable to resist, and you shuffle on to your knees so you can lean forward and give him the biggest hug, your arms folding around his sturdy, muscled form. It feels so good to close this distance, especially after so long. Especially as no-one on base gives better hugs than Finn, you are reminded, as he holds you.
“Are we... cool?” he asks apprehensively, into your shoulder as he squeezes you tightly, and you pull back from him, your hands still resting on his shoulders and his weaving under, settled around your waist.
“We’ll always be cool, Finn. It’s going to take more than that.”
“Yeah?” he smiles happily. “Good, because I missed you so kriffing much. I have so much to tell you.”
“And I want to hear it, but first,” your mouth tips up into a smirk. “Can I kiss you now?”
Finn’s eyes widen in shock and he makes a bunch of noises – broken, flustered syllables and consonants, his eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. He’s sunk into his relief so readily, that he must have forgotten entirely to entertain the idea you might like him back.
Your hands trail all the way down his toned arms, until you slowly fold his hands into yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Play it cool, Finn,” you tease, giving him a quick wink.
He schools himself, and even as you notice a hard swallow bob down his throat, and he lets out a long, slow exhale of breath through the circle of his lips, he makes use of his classic bravado. At least, for long enough to get some coherent strings of words out.
“Yes please. Y-yeah. Kiss me. You... should do that.”
Too many words.
So, you inch forward, and you press a fleeting, light, chaste kiss to his impossibly soft lips. Just enough to shut him up, before dipping your head back, giving him time to respond.
He looks at you sweetly, in shock for a moment, but, before you know it, his lips are chasing yours with a whole new confidence, and his mouth twitches-up in a smile as he meets you again. This time, the kiss is not fleeting. This time, it is drawn-out; a slow, sensual, gradually deepening thing. He hums against your mouth, the sound low and reverberating through you, and, as the kiss grows, his broad hands slowly and safely lower you down against the cockpit floor, arranging his jacket under you so that your skin needn’t touch the cold metal - only his warmth.
When you break for air, he settles himself over you, strong arms holding him up, his eyes shining with disbelief and adoration. He looks at you in a way that says – yes, you may have been his first friend, but that, maybe, you could be his first love as well.
As he gazes down at you, your hands wind up around the back of his head, skimming lovingly over his textured, raven hair, and readying to pull him back down to you, eager to drink more of him in. To feel more of his skin against yours. However; you are cruelly interrupted by a harsh sequence of beeps, indicating that the door is finally unlocked. Finn briefly twists his head over his shoulder, confirming with a look.
“Power’s back on- we can get out of here now,” you say breathily from under him. 
“Nah,” he says, with a subtle smirk and a shake of his head, apparently not wanting to move anywhere that would shift his warm body from on top of yours. “I think we should stay here a little longer, how about you?”
“Fine by me, Finn,” you agree quickly, beaming back at him, like the moon reflecting sunlight, basking in his warm glow.
His eyes narrow for a moment, searching yours, and he rolls you both on to your sides, your thigh coming to land over him, and his warm hand begins to stroke you there, as his sweet, languid kisses continue to find you in succession, his breaths coming more quickly, his need unravelling. “Is this okay?” he asks, pausing momentarily to skim his thumb over your cheek and down under your chin. “How are you feeling?”
While Finn seems relatively calm and sure right now, you are suddenly feeling like jelly. “Shaking. Nervous,” you admit, your words trembling out of you.
He nods a little, like he could tell. Maybe he could feel you tremble against him, or maybe it’s deeper than that. Maybe it’s the Force. You certainly feel like something deep and powerful is eddying between you.
“It’s okay,” Finn promises softly, his voice breath, and planting a small kiss to the tip of your nose. “If you want to keep going, I’ll be here to hold you.”
Your eyes shine with happy tears, and this time, when you drag him enthusiastically to your lips, your legs wrapping more tightly around him, you know that you need not be nervous at all. It has always felt right whenever he reached for you, ever since the beginning; and now is no exception. It is so much more than him holding you physically – you feel safe in his arms in every way you could.
You had missed him so deeply, not only because you have a huge crush on him right back, but also because he is your friend. And while he may not have been your first? He is certainly your best.
Finn is your sunshine, and you are endlessly pleased to have him back; to see him shining.
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