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daydreams-after-dark · 21 days

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Sub Reader x Bratty Han (plus Doms Lino, Chan and features ot8). Established poly ot8 relationship.

Synopsis: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both when they get home.

Word count: 2.9k approx.

Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡

CW below the cut.

⚠️⚠️⚠️Warnings: NSFW // 18+ content // MDNI // coercion //dom chan and lino // sub reader // oral sex (f and m rec.) // creampies // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // butt plugs // spanking with a belt // restraints // sex in front of a group // everyone cums all over reader // name calling // disrespecting reader (but it’s consensual punishment) // let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Han. The fucking brat. He loves to rile up the doms and soft doms, pushing their buttons, making them snap. He likes to coerce the subs into messy situations in the hopes of getting into trouble off the doms Chan and Lino.

Han loves to get you into trouble, and for some reason you can’t resist his bratty, suggestive energy. He makes you lose the fear of consequences, or maybe it’s that he makes you forget about consequences entirely? Until, of course you are being thrown face down on the bed, your panties pulled down around your thighs as you get spanked by Chan while Lino fucks your face (although you love that kind of punishment).

You think every idea Han has is a good one. There’s just something about him that makes you want to please him. You want to please him as much as you need to please Chan and Lino. You’d honestly let him do anything he wants to you.

That’s how you ended up here. On the couch in the living room.

“Come on baby.” He whispers, kissing your neck. Your shirt is already off and he’s cupping your breast, under your bra, with one hand, and is three fingers deep inside your cunt.

He knows you are pliable right now. You’ll agree to anything. “Let me taste your sweet pussy.” He thrusts his fingers in hard making you squeal. “So fucking wet. I know you want more than just my fingers, right?”

You shake your head. “Sungie, no. We don’t have permission. What if they find out?” you say timidly.

“No one’s gonna know. Just think about how it’s gonna feel with my hot… wet…mouth,” he kisses you sloppily. “Against your…aching…dripping…pussy?” He breaks away only to lean his forehead against yours. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” he asks with a serious tone. You nod. You are. “So… can I?” he pushes.

“Yes.” You whisper. He is right. Your cunt really was aching for him. His fingers had almost taken you over the edge, but you know his skilled and quick mouth will have you seeing stars in no time.

“You’re my favourite, you know that, right? Always up for anything. Such a good girl.” He says as he makes his way down between your legs. “Spread them wider for me. Let me take a good look at you.” He pushes your legs open and bites his lip hungrily as he inspects your most intimate parts.

“Such a pretty, tight, little hole.” He watches your pussy clench around nothing as he removes his digits. He spreads your lips apart and licks a stripe up from your vagina to your clit. You cry out. Why does it always feel so good? You throw your head back and squeeze you eyes closed as Han laps up all of your arousal that’s dripping from you. Your back arches off the couch when he slips his tongue into your cunt.

“Fuck, Ji!” you cry. “I’m so close.”

And then you hear it. Your phone ringing. You know the ringtone. Han knows the ringtone. Lino is calling.

“Answer it, baby. You don’t want to get in trouble for missing a call from the boss.” Han pauses his movements.

“I… I can’t-”

“Answer it.” Han repeats himself.

And of course you do as he says.

With a shaky hand and a fuzzy brain, you answer the call. “H-hello?” you say softly.

“What the fuck took you so long, kitten?” Lino is angry. Fuck. “Um… I’m sorry, I was just…ahhhh.” You feel Han’s mouth latch onto your clit.

“You were just what? What is so important that it took you more than three rings for to answer the phone?” Lino growls.

You can barely find the words you need. Han is bringing you so close to climax that you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your chest, and you know your heavy breathing must sound suspicious. You try with everything you have to ignore Han and to focus on Lino.

“I was just….working out… yes…running.” You manage.

And then you feel Han’s fingers in your pussy again, pumping in and out of you whilst he slurps loudly against your clit. The wet, obscene sounds becoming so loud that it threatens to give you away.

“Kitten?” Lino’s voice tries to cut through the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that has taken over your body. It is so hard to concentrate on Lino. Han is too intoxicating. Han feels too good. Han is your whole world. Han is the only person that matters. Han making you come is the only thing you need right now. You would surely die without it.

“Hannie-” you choke and the tension inside you snaps, sending pulsating pleasure through your veins and your legs shaking around Han’s head.

“You have to be fucking joking.” Lino does not sound happy. “Chan and I will be home in one hour. You and Han better be ready. You are going to be so fucking sorry.” And with that Lino is gone.

You lean up on your elbows and look down at the man that just took you to the stars. He is already looking up you with the most smug look on his face. You can’t tell if he is feeling pleased with himself because he convinced you (yet again) to let him have unauthorised access to your body, or that he has managed to get the you two caught?

It is a rather odd dynamic, between you and Han. Han is a bratty little shit, but he is not the boss. Not by a long shot. He just loves stirring up trouble and making life challenging for Chan and Lino. Han thinks it’s fucking hilarious to get himself, and any of the other subs, into trouble. Why? Because punishment is always fun. What he finds the most fun of all is the bemused expressions on Chan and Lino’s face when, as always, you have gone along with some devious idea of his.

You don’t even know why you always go along with whatever Han wants. But you can’t seem to stop yourself.

Even when it leads to this situation right now.

One hour later you and Han sitting side by side on the end of the bed, awaiting punishment.

The bedroom door bursts open and Chan and Lino enter the room - followed by the rest of the members. This was different. Punishment had never involved an audience before.

It makes you wet, and you were sure it is making Han hard.

They look pissed. Lino speaks first. “Everyone take a seat, stand against the wall. Make yourself comfortable.”

Seungmin and Changbin stand against the wall, and Felix, Innie and Hyunjin take places on the bed behind you.

Chan disappears out of the room momentarily, returning with two dining chairs and placing them in front of you and Han. Chan sits himself down on one and Lino drags the other a little further away to the right side of the room.

“Han,” starts Chan, “strip, then sit on that chair.” He nods to the empty dining chair.

Han immediately removes his clothes and takes a seat as instructed. You are right, he is hard. You hear Seungmin snicker to your left. How fucking humiliating.

“Everyone listen up.” Chan addresses the room. “Lino and I have called you all in here today because there are some of you who do not know how to follow rules.” Silence and anticipation fills the room and you start to become nervous.

“Han, in particular, doesn’t think he needs permission to play with our kitten here.” Lino says as he stands in front of you, grasping your chin forcing it so you’re looking into his dark, angry eyes. “Take off your top and bra and go lay over Chan’s lap so you can receive your punishment.”

You do as he says, nervously removing your garments and walking to were Chan sits.

“Lay over me, ass away from Han.” He pulls you over his lap and slaps your ass. Your head dangles by his shoe and you can’t see any of the men in the room. Chan pulls your shorts and panties down exposing your bare pussy and ass to everyone and pulls your cheeks apart. “Look at that boys… Han thinks this is his.” He snarls and roughly prods your pussy with his fingers. You gasp. You are so vulnerable, and so turned on. “Lino, come look at her pretty little holes.”

Lino kneels down next you, and the pair start finger fucking you at the same time. They plunge two fingers each into your cunt, stretching you, opening you up, showing everyone how much of a little whore you are. You begin to moan with pleasure, which apparently is against the rules. “Felix. Come pull the rest of her clothes off.” Chan instructs. “That’s it, Felix. Now shove her panties in her mouth to shut her up.”

Felix comes around and stuffs your mouth with your panties to muffle your whimpers, and then he’s gone again.

From where Han sits, all he can see is all the other men’s reactions to what is happening to you. He is turned on as fuck, but also jealous. He wants to see what was happening to your pussy. He can hear it though. The sopping, sloppy noises of your wetness. His dick is leaking. He knows there’s a good chance he’s going to come untouched. His hand automatically grips his cock.

"Hey, he’s touching his dick!” Innie exclaims, pointing to Han.

“Hyunjin, tie him up.” Chan growls. “This is meant to be a punishment.”

Hyunjin swiftly ties Han’s hands together and someone decides it’s a good idea to tie yours together too. “Let’s tie here’s behind her back.”

All you can do is lay there and take whatever punishment you are given.

“Everyone. This is what’s gonna happen.” Lino addresses the waiting men. “Our little darling here is going to choke on Chan’s cock, while I fuck her greedy little cunt. Your job, boys, is to jerk off while you watch. When you need to cum, you will come up, ask for permission, and choose where you want to cum on her.”

Seungmin, another dom, pipes up. “Hey why do I need to ask permission? And I don’t want to cum on her - I wanna cum in her.”

Lino rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget who's in charge here! But yeah, anyone can cum anywhere on or in her. Except Han. He’s not allowed to cum at all.”

Your pussy clenches at the thought of having everyone’s cum all over you.

“Everyone, get your cocks out.” You hear zippers and belt buckles as they free their dicks. Chan and Lino continue to finger your pussy. They jiggle your ass cheeks, make noises of approval at how wet you are. You feel Lino spit on your asshole and spread it around the rim, then plunge a finger deep into your hole. You tense and clench, making the pair chuckle to themselves. “Innie, give me the butt plug.” You brace yourself as Lino presses the rather large plug into your ass. He is careful as he presses it in. He doesn't actually want to hurt you. In fact, everyone knows everyone else's limits, hard no's, safe words and gestures. Even though you're tied up and your mouth is stuffed with panties, everyone knows if you shake your head rapidly, that means you want to stop.

“Pass me your belt, Changbin.” Says Lino standing up, leaving your hole clenching around the plug.

“We must set an example, mustn’t we Chan?” And without warning you feel the belt hit your ass cheek. You can’t cry out, or grab hold of anything. Chan holds you still. The belt comes down again. A little harder. Your skin stings. Again. Tears well up in your eyes. Another smack with the belt. You squeeze your eyes tight and the tears slip out. The next hit with the belt is on your pussy. It’s not as hard, but the sting is harsh. You hear gasps from some of the onlookers.

“Ummm,” you hear a timid voice next to you. “Can I please cum?” Felix.

“Already?” Chuckles Chan. “Sure. Where you going to put it?”

“The base of her spine please.” Always so polite. The spanking pauses, and you feel ropes of hot cum land on your lower back and hear the sweet noises Felix makes when he cums.

“Good boy.” Lino says proudly. “You did so good.” Chan concurs. “You may leave if you want. Or stay and watch. What do you want to do?”

Felix hesitates. “I’d like to stay and watch.” He says quietly.

“That’s our boy.” Seungmin claps his hands.

You are repositioned so that you are kneeling on the carpet in front of Chan. He lifts up slightly so he can shimmy his sweatpants down, freeing his enormous cock. Chan has the biggest cock out of everyone, and you know you are about to gag and choke very soon. He removes the panties that were in your mouth and fists a handful of hair on the back of your head and shoves your mouth down over his cock without care, forcing you take as much as possible. Then he pushes you down even more. You splutter, gag, and make a whole host of humiliating sounds as Chan pulls your mouth up and down on his cock, hard, fast and rough. You can get out of his grasp if you really want to. But you don't. You love this.

Meanwhile, Lino positions himself behind you, lifting you up enough to push his cock into your sopping cunt. The fullness feels incredible. Lino fucks you rough from the get go, leaving you no time to adjust. With your hands tied behind your back you are 'helpless'. And it’s driving you, and the men wild.

One by one, they come up seeking permission to cum on you.

You’re pulled up off Chan’s cock so Binnie can cum on your tits. You sneak a glance at Han to who looks so fucked out, his dick red and angry. Fuck you want to relieve him of that.

Innie wants to cum in your mouth. “Swallow it, kitten.” Lino instructs. You swallow it all and then continue to suck Chan off. Hyunjin wants to cum on your stomach, so again you’re lifted upright so he can mark you. Felix comes back again, this time wanting to cum in your mouth.

Finally Seungmin is ready to give you his load. “I’m going to cum in her cunt.” He announces. Lino grumbles and pulls out of you, and you feel Seungmin at your entrance. He thrusts into you hard making you gag on Chan’s cock. He digs his fingers into the side of your body and snaps his hips three times and you feel him release himself deep inside you.

“I’m not sticking my cock back in there after you. I don’t wanna feel your jizz on my dick.” Lino sounds irritated. Seungmin laughs and leaves the room.

“You’ll have to fuck her ass then, mate.” Chan says between clenched teeth. He was close to cumming.

“Hmm, you’re right.” Lino pulls the plug from your ass and pushes his thick cock into you, grasping your neck for both leverage and to feel you choking around Chan’s cock. Your pathetic cry is too much for Chan and he cums down your throat. “Swallow it.” Lino says from behind you, pounding his cock into your ass with an unimaginable force. You swallow and open your mouth, showing Chan your empty mouth.

You can feel Seungmin’s cum dribbling down your inner thigh, Felix’s cum dried on your back, and your breast and stomach are sticky. You are a mess as Lino fucks into you, holding you up by your tied arms. He pulls you against his chest, his mouth close to your ear. “Look at him,” Lino hisses, referring to Han. “I don’t know why the fuck you let him get you into this mess. Maybe you forgot who owns your pussy, hmm? Maybe you forgot I own your ass.” He growls. He reaches a hand down to your clit. “Now cum for me.” He demands.

You’re close but you can’t quite get there. You look at Han again. His cock. Yes, you love that cock so much. Closer. His trim waist and defined torso. Yes, you love to have your legs wrapped around it. Almost there. You look up to his face. His eyes. They are locked on yours. Encouraging you to cum. Fuck!!!! You clench around Lino’s cock and he pumps into you a few more times before you feel him paint your walls.

Lino pulls out and plugs you back up. “I own your ass. Don’t forget it.” He says and stands up. He and Chan pull their pants back on. You look around the room. It’s only now you realise that the rest of the men have left.

You see that Han has cum untouched, cum plastered on his abdomen, but he is still hard as stone. Chan unties him. “Now you clean her up - with your mouth… and then fuck Seungmin and Lino’s cum back into her holes.”

You and Han are alone again. He’s at your side untying you, immediately licking the cum off your tits, then kisses you. “That was so worth getting you into trouble.” He smirks and picks you up to lay you on the bed.

He hovers over you and gazes at you tenderly. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” He whispers.

You nod.

“Then… will you let me?”

“Let you what? They’ve given you permission to fuck me.” You say.

He shakes his head. “Will you let me make love to you? Slowly?”

Typical, bratty Han, still not wanting to follow instructions.

You nod. “Yes.”

A/N: I kinda wanted to end this on a sweet note, and make Hannie still unable to follow rules, like if he’s told to fuck her, then he wants to go slow and tender. But… he is a sneaky little shit getting her into so much trouble.

@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @wolfennracha @3rachasdomesticbanana

#skz smut #skz ot8 smut #han jisung smut #ot8 x reader #lee know smut #chan smut #sorshas fic

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ceciliasxx · 1 year

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—:: Secrets in plain sight ?

cl16 | instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: you and charles prefer to keep your relationship private, so when you start posting a little girl on your instagrams, it leaves people questioning whether or not you may have been hiding a big secret

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 629, 924 others

tagged: charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

yourusername core memory watching charles teach her to play piano + special feature from dumb and dumber (charles and carlos) 🤍

charles_leclerc she’s almost as good as me at piano, and it’s only been a few days

— yourusername she’s a natural protege

— view 73 more replies

livelaughloveleclerc need to see the picture from carlos’s pov

— astrid.olin it’s prob his blackmail material

— carlossainz55 don’t expose my secrets

— ferrari4life LMAO he actually replied 😭

— view 46 more replies

leleleleclercfan okay but who’s the kid in the pictures?? and why is no one talking about them

— selene.daska no because what

— view 38 more replies

f1fanforevss babe wake up, new y/n and charles conspiracy theory dropped

— view 4 replies

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername and 834, 274 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc enjoying the short weekend before the next race.

yourusername so happy we get to spend these small breaks together during breaks between the races <3

— charles_leclerc 🤍

— view 73 more replies

16isthebest stopppp you guys are literally the cutest igh im so jealous

— ferarrarrarrari when will it be my turn

— view 38 more replies

grandgrandprixfanxoxo going to the next grand prix, hope they’re both there so I can get a picture with them ahhhh

— view 2 replies

user8495103 yall the little girl is in the pictures again, i’m telling u that conspiracy going around rn is true

— carlosleclerc highkey agree tbh

— view 64 more replies

f1wags

485, 384 likes

tagged: charles_leclerc and yourusername

f1wags is there a new kid in the paddock? fans have begun speculating that @/charles_leclerc and @/yourusername may have a little girl they’ve been keeping secret based on recent photos posted to their instagram accounts. what do you think?

sienna.layi honestly would be so happy for them not like it’s any of our business anyway

— user83773 right it’s only their business

— view 8 more replies

ferrarif1xxxx i wanna say it’s their kid but like how would they of been able to keep it a secret this long ??

— khloeponta probably had ndas signed tbh

— charles161616 oh definitely

— view 32 more replies

keepingupwthewags okay hear me out, maybe they’re babysitting because you know y/n wouldn’t want to miss out on posting cute pregnancy pictures

— user2375 the only voice of reason so far

— view 21 more replies

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc and 748, 489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername behind the scenes if the paddock during a race 🏎️

livinlifefastt y/n i desperately need an answer to this, what’s your favorite charles moment so far this season?

— yourusername the vegas videos <3

— view 34 more replies

kimiii.ohonnn lmao istg charles just does duck lips in every photo at this point 😭

— view 19 replies

ferrarrigofastt sooooo are we just gonna completely ignore the whole secret kid thing

— liliannaalmaa literally like c’mon

— view 8 more replies

scuscuderia y/n marry me

— yourusername sorry, i’m already taken

— livetheleclercss sobbing crying

— view 42 more replies

yourusername added to their story

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #f1

1K notes · View notes

once-upon-an-imagine · 1 year

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Here Is Gone - Charlie Weasley

A/N: ahhhh xD I am back, baby! as promised here is our winner, Mr. Charlie Weasley! :D I hope you loves liked it! this turned out suuuuuper long so :) also, we are all going to pretend that Sirius and Remus are a lot older in this fic (like Molly’s age) because they have a daughter that is Charlie’s age AND Bill never worked in Egypt he always stayed at Gringotts!

Request - Anonymous asked: Hi, love! I saw you wanted some angsty Charlie request, and although I'm not so good at coming up with angsty ideas I'll try... How about Charlie and you are best friends at Hogwarts, both pining for each other but neither says nothing, so when you graduate Charlie goes to Romania and you stay there, so don't see each other again for years. When he comes home, you are engaged to someone else, but you both still like each other. Okay, I don't know if that makes any sense at all and you can ignore it 🙈 Also, if you decide to write it, you can make the ending whatever you want (I love a happy ending, but you choose). Thank you ❤️

Warnings: wolfstar!daughter! this is a bit angsty but Bill is here to diffuse the tension xD jealous!Charlie, reader cheats on boyfriend with Charlie (one kiss) and please let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Here Is Gone

And I want to get free, talk to me I can feel you falling And I wanted to be all you need Somehow here is gone

You weren’t sure what was the weirdest part of coming back to your childhood home. That your father hadn’t taken down the portrait of your stupid grandma. That it was now invaded by members of the order. Or…

“Love?”

Five years. It had been five years since you heard that nickname. Nobody else called you that. You made sure of it because that nickname was reserved for him. You slowly turned around, holding on to your mug to make your hand stop shaking and there he was.

“Charlie” you smiled. You always smiled when you saw Charlie.

He looked the same. But not really. He looked absolutely enthralling. His fiery red hair was longer than when you last saw him and tied in a small bun with some loose strands. There were burn marks on his (very) muscular arms and several tattoos were visible, peeking from under his shirtsleeves and collar. His eyes were the same deep blue eyes you loved so much. And now, the top of his face was covered in freckles, but the bottom part was decorated with a lazy beard.

You didn’t know it was possible. You couldn’t understand how your heart still fell to your stomach and your knees went weak just by looking at him, flashing you that bright smile he always had when he looked at you.

“Hello, sunshine” he said, opening his arms to you. “Don’t I get a hug?”

“Of course, you get a hug” you smiled, walking closer to him. You were going to wrap your arms around his waist but his arms quickly wrapped around yours and lifted you up, twirling you around, making your mug fall out of your hand and break on the floor.

“Shit! I’m sorry, love” he said, pointing his wand at your mug and fixing it in no time, placing it on the counter. “Please don’t tell your dad I broke your favorite mug” he chuckled, making you do the same.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Charlie” you smiled, feeling horrible at the fact that the word ‘love’ almost came out of your mouth so casually.

“It’s been so long, my little Hungarian Horntail” he laughed.

“Seriously? It’s been five years, Charles, I think we can retire that nickname” you smiled nervously, hating how much you had always loved that nickname too.

“No, never. That is the best way to describe you” he smiled, placing his hand on your cheek. He felt his heart racing as fast as it did every single time he saw you. He hadn’t felt that in five years and when Bill told him that they would be seeing you, he was 100% certain his feelings would come back. Well, not really because they never left. But this time, he was not going to let you go again. “I’ve missed you so much” he whispered.

The words were stuck in your throat. You wanted to say them out loud but something wasn’t letting you. You sighed in relief when you were quickly interrupted by your other favorite Weasley.

“CASSIOPEIA!” Bill burst into the room, pulling you away from Charlie and wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug like he always did. You couldn’t even protest at the fact that he still used your stupid middle name, which you hated. And Bill knew he was the only one that could get away with it. Other than your parents when they were reprimanding you for something.

“William” you laughed, trying to unglue yourself from him. Since he used your middle name, you used his full name, which he didn’t particularly love. “I kind of… need to breathe” you smiled.

“Oh, Merlin, I haven’t seen you in forever!” he said, finally putting you down.

“I literally saw you like two weeks ago” you laughed.

“You look bloody amazing!”

“Thanks, Bill, so do you” you smiled. “B-both of you” you said, turning to Charlie.

“Oh look, honey. The Weasleys are here” Sirius said, walking into the kitchen with his husband following him. “Broken any windows yet, boys?”

“Sirius” Remus warned him. “I’m sure these Weasleys are old enough now to not break any more of our windows” he smiled. “Hello Bill, Charlie” he smiled.

You noticed Charlie widening his eyes at you and then at your now-fixed mug, making you laugh a little.

“Mr. Lupin” Bill and Charlie nodded at him. “M-Mr. Black” they said, looking at your other dad. You knew they were still a bit afraid of him. Or maybe a lot. “Sorry about that, again” Bill smiled nervously.

“It’s okay, boys” Sirius smirked at them. “It’s been a very long time since you’ve broken something of ours” he said, glaring a little bit at Charlie.

“Dad!” you rolled your eyes.

“Sirius, love, come help me in the other room” Remus quickly pulled him away and you thanked him with your eyes. Bill quickly followed them, nodding his head towards you to Charlie without you noticing.

“So, I see your father still hates me” Charlie told you.

“He doesn’t hate you” you chuckled.

“He doesn’t love me” he argued.

“Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t love anybody who’s not my dad, me, or Harry” you told them.

“Fair enough” he chuckled, walking closer to you. “I was wondering if… uh-” he said, suddenly getting nervous. “We could talk?”

“Talk?” you asked. “About what?” you smiled nervously.

“W-well-”

“Hey, there you are pumpkin” Charlie felt your hand fall from his the minute a guy stepped into the kitchen. A very handsome man, with dark hair, blue eyes, and about as tall as Charlie, made his way towards you and kissed your cheek, hugging you to him, and making Charlie’s stomach drop. “Hi, you must be one of Bill’s brothers” he said, offering his hand to Charlie.

“Oh, darling” you smiled nervously and then looked at Charlie. “Um, this is Charlie” you corrected him. “Charlie, this is Nicholas” you said, looking back at the redhead. “My boyfriend” you informed him.

“Oh, right! The one that works with dragons” he smiled at the redhead, as Charlie shook his hand, still dumbfounded. “She has told me all about you and your brothers, but it might take me some time to get it correctly” he chuckled.

“R-right. No worries, mate, everyone gets us mixed up” Charlie said, still looking between the two of you. “Wait ‘till you meet Fred and George, they’re twins” he laughed slightly.

“Sounds fun” Nicholas smiled at you, kissing your head and pulling you closer by your waist. You quickly looked at Charlie and noticed his ears were getting the same color as his hair and beard. He was angry. “Your father says the meeting’s about to start, pumpkin” he told you.

“Oh, r-right. I’ll be right there, I’m just getting some tea” you said, motioning to your empty mug on the counter.

“I’ll save you a seat” he smiled before he gave you a small peck on the lips before he left and you smiled nervously. Why were you nervous? Why did you feel the need to explain this to Charlie? You didn’t owe him an explanation.

“So… pumpkin” Charlie smirked at you.

“Don’t be an asshole, Weasley” you glared at him as you started preparing your tea.

“I’m not being an asshole” he defended himself. “I just… thought you hated pumpkin” he said as he walked through your kitchen as if it was his own house and he grabbed the milk to bring it to you. “Milk and no sugar. Right, love?”

“Um… yes, thanks” you said, feeling your heart flutter at the thought that he still remembered. “And for your information, I don’t hate pumpkin!”

“You hate pumpkin juice, pumpkin pastries, and even that princess from the muggle story your dad used to read to you where her carriage turns into a pumpkin” he laughed.

“Well, I don’t mind the word pumpkin” you informed him as you finished making your tea and you started walking out of the kitchen.

“Mhm, sure you don’t” Charlie smirked to himself, following you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was currently day five. The day when the ‘kids’ (making you feel like 100 years old) left for school. Each passing day was worse than the last. You tried your hardest to avoid him. You really did. But it was easier said than done. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Your father told you that Charlie was going to stay in Romania and recruit foreign wizards to join the Order. But at the last minute, he changed his mind. And you knew exactly what that meant. Bill told Charlie you were coming, and then, suddenly, Charlie was coming.

During the days, you tried to keep yourself busy and did whatever you could not to be in any room alone with Charlie. Because, if you were being honest, you didn’t trust yourself around him. You were with Nicholas. And you loved him. You were sure. On paper, he was probably the best boyfriend you could ask for. But Charlie had this stupid magnetic force that made you want to go back to him. Because that’s what he told you when the two of you went your separate ways. ‘We will always make our way back to each other.’ And now here you were. And you were with someone else. And you felt extremely guilty for the way your heart did a leap every time you saw Charlie. You hated the fact that you felt at home when he hugged you or when he smiled at you.

And at night. That was the worst time. You were staying in your old childhood bedroom and you knew Charlie was just a room away. With Bill. Like they shared when they spent their summers with you. And he would always sneak out of his room and come over to yours to spend the nights with you. And it made you sick to your stomach that some part of you still kept eyeing the door. Waiting for him. Not only because Nicholas was lying next to you. But because Charlie was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for five years.

When you walked into the room where today’s meeting was being held, you saw that your seat was between Nicholas and Charlie.

“Alright, now that we’re all here. We can begin” your father, Remus, started.

You tried extremely hard to concentrate on what your father was saying. You really did. But it was very hard when Charlie ‘casually’ threw his arm on the back of your seat. He was closer to you than Nicholas was and you started feeling extremely guilty for just wanting to lean into Charlie’s shoulder. Like you always did.

While your father kept explaining about the first order and what the ideas for this one were, Charlie finally removed his arm from behind you and placed it on his leg. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hating the fact of how nervous Charlie still made you. But, surprisingly enough, Charlie wasn’t even your worst problem. It was Bill. The fact that Bill was sitting in front of you, with a look you knew all too well wasn’t helping.

“Sweetheart, did you hear what your father said?” you heard your other father snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Uh, what? Um, sorry I was distracted” you smiled nervously.

“Really? By what? Care to share this with the rest of the room?” Bill asked, fascinated, resting his head on his hand and you glared at him.

“Yeah. I was distracted by that stupid ugly fang in your ear” you smirked.

“Kids!” Mrs. Weasley warned the two of you, knowing how quickly you could get back into your old antics with Bill.

“Ah, you leave my fang out of this, Cassie” he laughed, making you roll your eyes.

“Cassie?” Nicholas asked, confused.

“That’s… uh your girlfriend’s middle name, mate” Charlie said as if it was obvious.

“No, I know that” you saw him glaring a little at Charlie. “But… she hates it when people call her that” he said.

“I do” you intervened. “Bill just doesn’t care” you informed him.

“Wrong! She gave me permission to be the only one to call her that” he smirked. “Isn’t that right, little Horntail?” he mocked you and you heard Charlie laugh next to you while Nicholas looked confused between them and you.

“WILLIAM!” you said, getting up. Could I see you for a moment?” you asked as politely as you could. You saw your fathers share a look between them but none of them said anything so you walked out of the room with Bill behind you. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing” he shrugged innocently.

“Bill!”

“Why are you with him?” he blurted out.

“Excuse me?”

Bill knew about your relationship with Nicholas. Actually, you had met him through Bill since Nicholas worked at Gringotts. He had never seemed happy about you two being together and you assumed he had told Charlie, but apparently, he never did.

“You heard me. Why are you still with Nicholas?”

“What do you mean still? Because I love him!”

“Do you? Really? Because I honestly cannot think of two more opposite people in this world!”

“Yes! Really! How is this any of your business?”

“I have heard you like a billion times, whenever someone asks you about him, like my mum, saying how lucky you are to be with him” he said.

“I am lucky” you argued.

“Right, lucky, not happy” he said, making you frown your eyebrows at your best friend. You sometimes hated how much Bill could read you. “You know? When you have to remind yourself how lucky you are over and over again, it’s because you’re afraid to ask yourself how happy you truly are” he told you.

“That’s not true” you argued, nervously.

“Isn’t it? How happy are you, Cass?”

“I know that Nicholas has never been your favorite person, but I am plenty happy, thank you very much!”

“You sound so convincing” he said, sarcastically “Look, love” he said getting serious, making you pay closer attention since he rarely talked to you like that. “I am not saying this to be an asshole to you or your boyfriend. But I have known you for a very long time and I love you, and I care about you, and I just want what’s best for you.”

“Bill, why are you even doing this?”

“Because I love you, and I care about you. And I have seen how much this relationship has changed you. I’m not saying is a bad thing, but each day you become a completely different person! I know you think that being with Nicholas is the right thing to do because he’s like a grown-up that has his shit together-”

“He’s like your age” you interrupted.

“But is that what you really want? I have heard him many times referring to your job as a hobby. A job that I know you love, and I know that because you gave up going to Romania with Charlie so you could pursue it. You rarely come to the Burrow anymore, do you have any idea how much everyone missed you? The twins were so excited to see you and you didn’t even play one stupid prank with them! You never say no to them, especially when they prank Charlie!” he reminded you. “Look, if you can honestly tell me that Nicholas is the man of your life and you are the happiest woman on Earth being this way, I’ll back down but we both know that the man that you’re supposed to be with, was sitting on your other side, don’t we?”

“Hey kids, we kind of need you back in there because your father wants…” Sirius said, walking out and looking at you. “Honestly, I don’t know what he wanted. I didn’t pay attention, just come back, okay?”

“Sure, Mr. Black” Bill smiled before he walked back in. You were about to follow him but your dad stopped you.

“Princess, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, dad” you said, trying to smile at him.

“Are you sure? Did the Weasley boy do something? Because-”

“No dad, Bill didn’t do anything” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay” he said, still hugging you. “You let me know if one of them is bugging you-”

“Dad!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You were exhausted and you spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone, really. You just wanted to be by yourself but it was hard when your house was filled with people. So, you hid in your fathers’ bedroom, knowing nobody would go there. When it was late, you finally went over to your room, hoping to find some peace, but when you opened the door you saw candles and rose petals everywhere, as Nicholas stood in the middle. Shit. You felt your stomach get twisted in knots.

“Um… honey, what’s going on?” you chuckled nervously.

“Hey, pumpkin” he said, as you walked closer to him. “I know that you have been stressed these couple of days and I wanted to do something special” he smiled.

“Oh, that’s… very sweet of you” you said, walking closer to him.

“Also, I kind of had a whole thing planned for our anniversary a few weeks ago but, then you had to go back to work and I didn’t get to do it there, and then we came here so… I thought there’s no better time than this” he said, starting to kneel down.

Oh no.

“Um, N-Nicholas,-”

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asked, smiling at you and getting out a small ring box, opening it.

“I- uh” you sighed. “I don’t know what to say” you admitted.

“This is kind of the part where you say yes” he chuckled nervously.

“Honey” you said, kneeling down to his level. “I love you very much, it’s just… this is too much right now” you tried to reason with him.

“Why? I can’t think of a better time” he insisted.

“Nicholas, I… I don’t know if I’m ready for such a big step” you told him.

“So… you’re saying no?”

“N-no, I just… I guess I need to think about it” you told him.

“You need to think about it?” he asked a little upset. “We’ve been together for two years!” he said, closing the ring box and standing up. “Is it because of Weasley?”

“W-what?”

“Bill’s brother, the one that works with dragons” he continued. Maybe you hadn’t been as subtle as you thought you were.

“Charlie has nothing to do with this!”

“Doesn’t he? Do you think I haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? How he talks to you, the little nickname him and Bill have for you?”

“Bill calls me Cassiopeia! That is my least favorite name” you argued.

“You don’t even let me call you that! But you don’t seem to mind when Bill does-”

“I’ve known Bill my entire life! He’s like my annoying old brother!”

“And what about Charlie?”

“What about Charlie?”

“What went on with you two?”

“I told you we dated in school and then he left for Romania!”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it!” you lied.

“There’s nothing else there?”

“No!”

“So, why won’t you marry me?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “Is that what this is about? Are you asking me to marry you because you what? You feel threatened by Charlie?”

“That’s not what I said-”

“What is this, some sort of possessive thing that you need me to flaunt a ring around so everyone knows that I’m yours?”

“How can you say that? I want to marry you because I love you! And I want to be with you!”

“And I told you a million times that I am not ready to get married right now! I told you I love my job and I have so many opportunities now where I can travel or even move-”

“Well, yes, but we both know that once we get married and have kids your job will be more like a hobby” he chuckled. You felt your entire heart shatter as you kept repeating Bill’s words in your head. ‘We both know that the man that you’re supposed to be with, was sitting on your other side, don’t we?’

“Nicholas” you said, quietly. “I love you, but I can’t give you an answer right now” you told him. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Fine” he said, grabbing the small box and placing it in your hand. “Then, think about it okay? I love you and I want us to be together” he insisted.

“Okay. I will think about it” you said, as he stood to give you a peck on the lips before he made his way over to your bathroom.

As soon as the door closed, you grabbed one of your sweaters, which just happened to be Charlie’s Christmas jumper you had stolen at some point, and you made your way down to the kitchen to clear your mind. You were glad that it was empty because it was already a bit late and you started making yourself some tea. When you sat on the kitchen table you heard some footsteps coming towards you and you sighed.

“Nicholas, I don’t really want to talk right now-” you stopped when you noticed someone else standing there.

“Not Nicholas, love” Charlie smiled sweetly at you. “You alright?”

“I’m fine” you said, looking at your hands as the kettle announced that the water was ready. You were going to stand up but Charlie quickly stopped you.

“Let me” he said, making his way around your kitchen as he brought two cups of tea. Yours with milk and no sugar. You smiled grabbing the mug in your hands. “So… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing-”

“Love I have known you long enough to know that you can’t sleep when you’re upset” he told you. “Remember how you always sneaked into my dorm when you couldn’t?” he smirked.

“I just… have a lot on my mind, I guess” you said, quietly, taking a sip of your perfectly prepared tea.

“So, are you going to tell me about it or are you just going to keep avoiding me?”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you?”

“Really? This is the first conversation we’ve had since I got here” he told you. “Come on, love, please stop pushing me away” he said, placing his hand on yours. When he did, he noticed something under your arm. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Oh, n-nothing” you said, trying to keep your arm in place but Charlie pulled it up, revealing the ring box.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, quietly. You felt your heart racing.

“Charlie I uh-”

“You’re getting married?” he asked, grabbing the box and smirking. But you could see in his eyes that he was far from happy about this. “Congratulations, Mrs. Pumpkin” he mocked you. You glared at him, grabbing the box from his hand.

“You’re an asshole” you said, starting to get up but he quickly followed and pulled you back.

“No, come on, love. I’m only joking” he chuckled.

“Well, it is not funny!”

“Fine. Why are you so upset? Aren’t you marrying Mr. Perfect?”

“Why do you even care about this? Is not like you have any idea what’s going on since you have been away for the past five years!”

“That is not fair! We both made that decision!”

“Exactly! So why do you even care if I am with someone else?”

“Because you can’t marry him!”

“Oh, really?” you asked starting to breathe heavily. “And why not?”

“Look, even if I am not yours, you are still my best friend and I am allowed to care about you and say something when you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Excuse me?”

“I did not leave you here for you to follow you to get your fucking dream job and then throw it all away when someone asks you to be his trophy wife!”

“How dare you, Charles!? How can you claim you know me so well and then assume that’s what I’m gonna do!” you snapped.

“That’s how you’re acting! Whenever you’re around him you’re an entirely different person!”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t end up together!”

“Oh, believe me, love. Best idea I ever made!” he snapped at you.

“And for the record, Bill is my best friend” you smirked evilly at him and he gasped offended.

“Take that back!”

“No” you shrugged and he started slowly walking closer to you.

“Take.It.Back.” he said with his deep voice between clenched teeth as you bumped into the counter behind you and he placed his hands on each side of you.

You were no longer able to ignore this. You felt how heavy your heart was pounding and you knew Charlie was the only one that made it beat like this.

“Make me” was the only thing that you were able to say before Charlie grabbed your face between his hands and he pulled you to his lips.

When his lips touched yours, the world seemed to melt away around you. Nothing mattered. Just you and him. His hands quickly started roaming around your body bringing you closer as he started deepening the kiss. It was like the first time he kissed you. Like the first time that he said he loved you. Like the first time that the two of you had sex. Nothing had changed. You couldn’t keep on denying it any longer. Your heart belonged to Charlie Weasley. You belonged with Charlie Weasley.

But then, you felt a pang of guilt pull at your heart. This was wrong. You were with Nicholas. Nicholas who had just asked you to marry him. Nicholas who was upstairs, waiting for you in your room. So, you pushed Charlie away.

“L-love” he said, breathing heavily.

“No!” you said, pushing yourself away from him and he finally let go. “I c-can’t do this, this isn’t right” you said, starting to feel sick to your stomach. You were a horrible person. “Fuck, what have I done?”

“Love, look at me” he tried, getting closer to you.

“No, don’t get near me!” you cried. “I can’t- I can’t think straight when you’re around me!” you said stepping closer to the entrance. “I need to leave” you muttered to yourself, running out of the kitchen and upstairs.

“Fuck” Charlie muttered to himself before he punched the counter.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hi, bug” you turned around to see one of your fathers, Remus, staring at you through his window.

“Hi dad” you smiled weakly as he climbed through the window and sat down next to you.

“What are you doing out here? Hiding?”

“No” you chuckled.

“You do know this is where you hid every time you stole the chocolate chip cookies, right?”

“Right” you smiled, looking down at yourself.

“What’s going on, bug?”

“Dad… do you think I'm a bad person?”

“What? Of course not, love why would you ask me that?”

“I did a terrible thing” you said, feeling tears streaming down your face.

“Sweetheart, whatever it is, you are not a bad person and your father and I love you very much” he insisted.

“Nicholas proposed to me” you said, taking out the small box and showing him the ring.

“And… you’re not happy about that?” he asked.

“I don’t know! I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t want to get married right now” you told him. “There are still so many things I want to do and so many places I want to go and…” you cried.

“You told him no?”

“I told him I’d think about it” you explained. “And he said it was fine, but I could tell he was upset” you said. “And so I said I needed some space and I went down to the kitchen to make some tea and then I ran into Charlie and I-” you took a deep breath. “We kissed” you told him.

“You kissed Charlie Weasley?!” the two of you turned around to find Sirius standing at the window.

“DAD!” you complained.

“Sirius, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough” he said, climbing outside and sitting on your other side.

“Dad, please don’t make me feel worse than I already do” you begged him.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing? Are you not happy with Nicholas?”

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Sirius” Remus warned.

“You two have been together for two years now and you seem perfect! You are lucky to have a guy like that!”

“See, that’s the thing! I don’t think I am! I thought I was and then Bill started saying how if I have to remind myself how lucky I am, it’s because I am afraid to ask myself how happy I really am! And then… I can’t believe I got Bill stuck in my head! But he was right! I started to question how happy I really am and I realized how much I have changed since I have been with Nicholas, and… this isn’t me! I haven’t felt like myself in so long! Since… since I was with Charlie! And so, that’s why I told him I would think about it and then I ran into Charlie and he started saying that I shouldn’t marry Nicholas and I got mad at him and we started arguing and then… we kissed and now I don’t know what to do!” you cried as Remus hugged you closer to him. “Why can't I stop thinking about Charlie?”

“Because you're scared of the first real adult relationship with the perfect man” Sirius told you.

“Or because you and Charlie still have a special connection and you still love him” Remus said, widening his eyes at his husband.

“Honey, she’s with Nicholas. We like Nicholas. Stop defending Charlie!”

“Charlie would die for our daughter, and you know that!”

“Can you guys not talk about me as if I’m not here-?”

“Why are you rooting for him? He broke our girl’s heart! And I will be dammed if I let him do it again!” Sirius snapped, making you look at your dad.

He looked defeated. And then it clicked, why your father never liked Charlie. He didn’t seem to mind him when you were in school. Only the ‘hurt my little girl and I’ll kill you’ way. But after Charlie left for Romania, you came back home and stayed with your fathers for weeks. And you had cried every single day.

“Dad… Charlie didn’t break my heart” you said, pulling out of Remus’ embrace. “We both decided to break up. I didn’t want to stop him from following his dreams of working with dragons. And I was going to go with him. But he wouldn’t let me because he knew I wanted to stay here to follow my dream” you explained. “He said that if we were meant to be together we would always make our way back to each other” you told him. “I know you don’t like him and I know that you saw how hurt I was… but that wasn’t Charlie’s fault” you insisted.

“You see, Sirius? Charlie did everything he could so our girl would follow her dreams and do what she wanted instead of following him all the way to Romania. I’m sure you would have hated that” he said as Sirius hugged you.

“Of course, I would have hated that! He would have torn my only daughter away from me” he said, kissing your head.

“See? So, it is actually thanks to Charlie that she didn’t leave. So maybe cut the boy some slack” Remus said.

“Fine” Sirius said begrudgingly. “I guess… he’s not that bad” he admitted as Remus hugged the both of you.

“Can we go back to my problem please?” you said, pushing both of them away. “I still have no idea what to do! I feel like a horrible person!”

“Sweetheart, you’re not a horrible person” Sirius insisted. “As much as it pains me to say it… I guess… I kind of understand why you still feel drawn to Charlie” he sighed. “And… you should always be able to feel like yourself with the person you love” he told you.

“You’re going to have to make a decision, honey” Remus told you.

“They are both great guys but so different! How did you guys do it?”

“I’m not gonna be any help here from the minute I saw your dad I was done for” Sirius smiled at Remus. “I knew that I had met the person that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and I did everything I could to make him as happy as he made me” he admitted.

“That was really sweet, dad” you smiled at Sirius before you turned to your other father. “What about you?”

“Well, first of all, I’m a sucker for guys who say things like that” Remus admitted. “And… he always helps me find the fun in life” he smiled at his husband.

“Look, sweetheart, you should just ignore everything we said and try to imagine your life with each of them and… if there’s one of the two that you just can’t live without” Sirius told you.

“Well…” you said, taking a deep breath. “With Nicholas, I guess I see a big beautiful house lined with books and interesting people coming in and out, raising kids with a brilliant man” you said with a soft smile. “And with Charlie…” you said as your parents noticed your smile getting bigger. “I see us in a cute little place that needs a ton of work” you chuckled. “And we may not have all the nicest things but… there's music and laughing and I know I can always be myself and he’ll always love me for it” you finished with a few more tears running down your cheeks. “And as much as I love Nicholas, I can see myself living without him but… I don’t think I can picture my life without Charlie” you admitted.

“Well, sweetheart, I think you just answered your question” Remus said, as he and Sirius wrapped you in a hug.

“And we support you no matter what” Sirius assured you, kissing your head. “We just want you to be happy” he said.

“I know” you smiled back at them as you stood up. “Thank you” you said, kissing each of them on the cheek. “I love you guys” you told them, moving over to the window.

Remus turned back to hug Sirius closer to him. “That was very mature of you, Pads” he said, kissing his temple.

“Please, Moony, you act as if I am still the same immature boy from school” he laughed.

“You do know that since she is choosing Charlie and she can now easily move in her job, there’s a chance this might end up with her moving to Romania, right?”

“WHAT!? I never agreed to that!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hi” you said, walking inside your room, and finding Nicholas sitting on your window nook.

“Hey” he smiled sadly at you. “I take it you couldn’t sleep either?”

“No” you admitted. “Um… I think… we need to talk” you said, grabbing the small ring box and placing it on your bed. You saw the look on Nicholas’ face and you were certain he knew what was coming was not good.

After about two hours, and the hardest conversation you had ever had since saying goodbye to Charlie, Nicholas was done packing all of his things and he walked towards the door. You had tears streaming down your face and he stopped in front of you, cupping your cheek one last time.

“I’m really sorry” you repeated. “I want you to know that I really did love you” you assured him.

“I know” he smiled like the gentleman he always was as his thumb brushed your cheek. “Just… not as much as him, right?” he said, kissing your temple. “I loved you too” he said before he opened the door and exited the room.

You followed him down the stairs where you found your fathers waiting for you. Acting as if they hadn’t just been outside your door, listening to your entire conversation.

Nicholas smiled awkwardly at them as he made his way out. “Uh, thanks for everything Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black” he told them.

“Take care, kid” Sirius told him.

"Keep in touch" Remus said, kindly before the door closed.

"I don't really see us keeping in touch" Sirius told his husband as you walked down the stairs. “How are you feeling, bug?”

“I’ve been better” you admitted, wiping away the remaining tears on your cheeks and yo sat down at the sofa. Your fathers quickly sitting next to you.

“You did the right thing, sweetheart” Remus said, kissing your head. “We’re really proud of you” he told you.

“We love you, bug” Sirius added before the three of you heard the door burst open and you saw Bill and Charlie walking in, laughing about something.

Their laughter quickly died down when they spotted you. You knew they were a bit drunk. Most likely, Charlie told Bill about what happened and Bill’s solution was to go out and drink.

“Boys” Sirius said, standing up. “Just coming in, are you?” he smirked.

“Y-you’re not gonna tell our mum, right?” Bill asked, a bit worried.

“Well-” Sirius started.

“No, we’re not” Remus said, standing up as well. Charlie’s eyes were glued to you. And your dad noticed. “Why don’t we make some coffee?” he suggested pulling his husband and the oldest Weasley with him into the kitchen. “Let these two talk” he said, ignoring the complaints from both of them.

“Hi” Charlie said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Hi” you smiled at him as you tried to wipe some new tears away.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” he asked, worriedly, kneeling in front of you and placing his big hand on your cheek, making you smile sweetly at him.

“I’m okay, Charlie” you assured him.

“Love, I am really sorry for what I did” he started. “And for what I said, I had no right to talk to you that way and I had no right to kiss you, I know that I just-” he sighed.

“Charlie” you started but he kept rambling on.

“I was just scared because you are my favorite person in the entire world and not a day goes by that I don’t regret leaving you. I should have stayed here with you! I should have fought for you! Because I love you!”

“Charlie-!”

“I know I have no right to dump all of this on you right now, but I at least owe you the truth. And the truth is that I am completely, madly, and hopelessly in love with you Cassiopeia Lupin-Black” he said, making you glare at him a little. “I have been my entire life. And I know I may not be able to give you the life that Nicholas can give you but, I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone and I promise to try and make you as happy as you make me if you let me and-”

You cut him off by leaning in closer and placing your lips softly against his. Charlie was taken aback for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you closer as you pulled away.

“I broke up with Nicholas” you told him.

“Y-you did?” he asked with hope waving over his heart as you nodded.

“I told him I couldn’t marry him” you explained. “A-and I love you so much, Charlie, it’s just…I just got out of a relationship. I’m a complete mess right now” you cried, smiling at him.

“I love messes. We can take this as slow as you need to, my little Horntail” he said, brushing your tears away as you chuckled. “So… that means that…”

"It's you" you said with a weary smile as Charlie wrapped his arms around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "It's always been you, love" you told him, making his heart race faster when you called him that.

“Fucking finally!” Bill shouted.

The two of you turned around to see him at the entrance of the kitchen standing with Sirius and Remus before they disappeared into the room.

“We… kinda have to face them now, don’t we?” Charlie asked you, standing up and pulling you with him.

“We kinda do” you said, kissing his cheek.

“Are your dads gonna kill me?” he asked as you held his hand and started pulling him towards the kitchen.

“No” you assured him. “I promise they won’t” you smiled. You were about to enter the kitchen but Charlie pulled you to him once more, wrapping one arm around your waist and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “What?”

“I told you we will always make our way back to each other, my love” he smiled, kissing your temple. You smiled placing your head on his chest feeling completely content in his arms. This felt like home. You had never been more certain to have made the right decision. “I love you” he whispered.

“I love you too” you smiled, looking at him.

“My little Hungarian Horntail” he chuckled.

“I hate you again!”

“You love me!”

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: ahhh I missed writing for Charlie so much xD I hope you all liked it! let me know what you think! Spencer’s coming up next!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley oneshot

399 notes · View notes

kierancaz · 2 years

Note

Hello mellon nìn, i have seen you are interested in writing for Legolas, sooooooooooooo if you are up to it of course, write something??

So here is my idea (this can be a headcanon if you want something short, but write how you want):

Reader is an elf (female reader pls) and she gets sick (wich is super rare for an elf) and Legolas gets super worried, and just stays with her and stuff. Just something fluff, you know.

Don't worry for mischaractherizing (idk if i wrote it correctly, lol) him.

That's all thank you!! You can ignore this, if you don't want to do it.💜

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬

A/N: AHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING NEVER HAVE I GOTTEN OUT OF BED AND TO WORK SO FAST SJKDJJDJSJD but iyayah this was such a pain. I kept rewriting it to try and get it to my liking but I just couldn’t do it 😭 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO AND I HOPE ITS NOT TO CRINGE OR ANYTHING <3333

Warnings: possible spelling mistakes, not proof read (I wanted to get it out as soon as possible), and fluff (or as fluffy as I could make it), and I don’t know how elf housing works soooo if I got this wrong you’re gonna have to deal with it I’m sorry :’)

Synopsis: you fall ill and Legolas takes care of you.

༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

Legolas admired you greatly. He admired how hardworking and bold you where. How you never gave up and always completed the tasks set to you. How you had such a commanding presence that people just couldn’t help but be drawn to you. In fact, that’s what had drawn him to you in the first place.

Recently though he hadn’t been able to see you. Not only because he was busy but because you where busy as well. You where always running from one place to the next only stopping in the halls for a quick hello whenever he called out to you.

Coming back from patrol one day he was greeted at the gates by a elleth that he only vaguely recognized as one of the people in your charge. You where a captain of the guard, another thing he admired about you.

“My Prince,” the elleth bowed her head politely and Legolas returned the gesture. “(Y/n) is sick, she’s been taken to the infirmary and is asking for you.”

Legolas eyes widened in shock. Sick? You where sick? How long had it been since an elf was sick? Immediately it took off to the infirmary.

He was overcome with worry. What happened? How did you get sick? How sick where you? Elves didn’t often get sick and if they did they’re was usually an on hand cure and everything was solved in a couple days so why where you asking for him? Was it really that bad that you would call for him? For a moment he wondered if you where calling for him because you where on your deathbed or something before he realized how preposterous that was.

He reached the infirmary in no time and upon entering he was more then a little stumped by what he saw. There was you, sitting on the edge of the infirmary bed looking both unwell and very upset. And then there was another elf standing before you, clearly annoyed and pinching the bridge of his nose.

You spotted him at once and grinned, “Legolas!” You said and waved him over. “You have to tell Belanor that I am perfectly fine. He won’t listen to me!”

“You don’t look ever well to me.” Legolas said as he helped bring you back to balance after you stood up. You were holding onto his shoulder tightly and swaying a bit.

“That’s because she’s not well,” Belanor interrupted. “She’s got a fever. Nothing to horrible but it’ll take a few days before she’s back to normal health and… well it might get worse before it gets better.”

“I’ll be fine! There’s absolutely nothing wrong.” You said and pushed yourself off of Legolas, as you did so you where overcome by a dizzy spell and fell back onto the bed.

“Now, since you are clearly not fine, you could either stay here in the infirmary for a few days while I watch over you. Or you could go back to your own home and have someone else take care of you. I don’t trust you to take care of yourself but I’d rather not have to deal with you any longer. Make your choice quickly please.” Belanor said and crossed his arms.

You looked up from where you had your head in your hands and glared at Belanor. You opened your mouth to make a comment about what he could possibly be busy with that he needs you to make a quick decision about this but before you could Legolas spoke up.

“I can take care of her.” He said it so casually it took both you and Belanor by surprise. Again before you could say anything you where cut off.

“Ok then,” Belanor said in a still slightly surprised tone. “Try and get her to actually rest, if the fever rises anymore put a cold rag on her head. Make sure she takes this at least twice a day,” Belanor handed him a jar. “And don’t get surprised if she gets a bit delirious or throws up. Have fun.”

He walked out of the infirmary immediately after leaving you and Legolas to blink silently at each other. “So,” Legolas began. “How did you even end up here?”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks and looked away from him. “Passed out…” you mumbled. “It wasn’t too bad, I feel better now.”

You where, in fact, lying. To save face. You didn’t want him to see you as anything other then strong and independent. You didn’t need anyone caring for you and you certainly weren’t weak enough to get sick. Though, you’ve never felt so horrible.

Your nose was stuffed up and you couldn’t breath properly, your throat was sore and swallowing hurt, and your head felt all fuzzy. A couple times you thought your vision was beginning to blur as well. It had been like that for a couple days before finally you collapsed while out on patrol and one of your friends had to carry you all the way here before you finally woke up.

Suddenly there was a hand to your forehead. You brought your eyes back to Legolas who was now standing in front of you, eyes narrowed in concentration and maybe even concern with the back of his hand resting on your forehead. “Um, what are you doing, my Prince?” You questioned.

“I think it’s a human thing.” He said and moved his hand to cup your cheek. “I’ve seen Aragorn do it to others. To check if they were sick.”

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Maybe you where already going delirious like Belanor said, but his hand felt so warm and soft, despite the callouses on his fingers. He brushed a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

Before you knew it you were sept off the bed. It made you a little dizzy but you couldn’t do anything but stammer and pray to the gods Legolas didn’t here or feel the pounding of your heard. “Uh, what are you doing? Where are you going?” You asked quickly.

“I’m taking you back to your house.” Legolas said simply, like this was no big deal.

“I can walk on my own you know!” You protested, wiggling around a bit. “And what if someone sees us Legolas? It would be such a pain if rumors started flying around. People can be so nosy.”

Legolas chuckled, “just a few minutes ago you were struggling to stand on your own. And so what if someone sees us? Let the rumors fly, they dare not ask me about them.”

“But they will ask me.” You protested.

“There is no need to worry mellon nìn,” Legolas said, his voice ever so light and calming. “Relax for now and let me carry you home. Just this once.”

You weren’t really in the position to argue. He was right after all. So you just hummed grumpily and rested your head against his chest.

Soon enough you had fallen asleep. Legolas hoped the sound of his heart thundering in his chest wouldn’t wake you. While he was concerned about you, he couldn’t help but think about how cute you looked.

Eventually he had reached your house. He was comfortable enough to walk in on his own and set you down on your bed. He had been to your home on more then one occasion so he was familiar with the layout.

He grabbed a bowl and filled it with water along with a towel and brought it back to where you were still sleeping. He felt your forehead again before placing a cool towel there. You opened your eyes and looked at him.

“This is completely unnecessary.” You said and then coughed.

“Mhm,” was all Legolas said and nodded.

“I mean it.” You repeated. “I don’t need looking after.”

“I believe you.” He was smiling now and all you could do was glare and pout at him. There was a long stretch of silence before you turned over.

“Feel free to leave whenever you want.” You said, and it came out rather aggressively. You couldn’t see it, but Legolas eyebrows scrunched up and the hurt he felt from your comment clear on his face.

“Ah, um, alright then, I’ll get going.” He got up and walked to your door, stoping in the doorframe. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning, don’t do anything stupid mellon nìn.”

You hummed in acknowledgment and listened as he left your home. You don’t know how much time had passed before you fell asleep that night.

#######

The next morning Legolas did as he said and made his way early over to your home. He knocked twice, waited, knocked again, and when you didn’t answer he decided to let himself in.

“(Y/n)?” He called out when he entered, but he got no response.

“(Y/n) are you here? Is everything alright?” He asked as he walked through your home before checking your bedroom.

You where having a troubled sleep. Your covers kicked all over the place, brows furrowed in distress, pale as ghost with a sheen of sweat on your forehead. Immediately he went and got a bowl and filled it with cold water and after damping a rag he placed it on your forehead. You stirred slightly at his gentle touch.

“Legolas?” You asked softly, bleary eyes beginning to open. His heart beat a little faster as he brushed away some hairs that where sticking to your cheek.

“It’s me,” he said and took the bottle of medicine that Belanor had given to him from your night stand. You groaned as he lifted your head from your pillow and tipped the medicine into your mouth. You wouldn’t drink it. He sighed, stubborn as always.

“It’ll help you feel better.” He said bringing it closer to your mouth.

“It smells gross.” You mumbled, opening your mouth just enough so he could force you to take it.

After that you fell back asleep. He stayed for a few hours, watching you go in and out of sleep, tossing and turning. Every once in a while he would have you take more medicine and replace the cloth resting on your forehead.

Eventually, you where able to form a coherent thought, and the first thing you said (that wasn’t unintelligible mumbling) was, “what’re are you still going here?”

“Ah- well, I was looking after you.” Legolas said. He didn’t understand why you felt the need to always dismiss him when he tried to care for you. There was a time when you could hardly walk due to a wound on your leg and you still refused to let him carry you. He stood up from chair, “but if you wish me to leave then I shall go—”

His sentence was cut off when as he turned away and a hand clasped his wrist. “Stay…” you said looking him dead in the eyes, barely audible, but the clarity in your eyes… “I want you to stay.”

“Alright then…” Legolas said tentatively as he sat on the edge of your bed. You didn’t let go of his hand and instead, ran your thumb thumb soothingly across his knuckles. There was a long stretch of silence where all you did was that and stare at his and your hands resting on his thigh.

“I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.” You spoke finally. “I didn’t mean it to come out that way.”

“It’s alright,” he said quietly.

“I just don’t want you to see me as weak.” Now this, this surprised him.

“Mellon nìn, how could I ever view you as weak?” He started and grasped you hand with both of his and brought it to his chest, leaning forward like he needed you to see him, to look him in the eye and really listen to him.

“Mellon nìn you are the strongest person I know! You are beautiful and talented and so incredibly strong, how could I ever view you as weak? Where on Arda could you even get this notion?”

You just blinked at him. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Eh—” his face, plastered with a look of shock, began to flush red. After recovering he pulled away and looked off to the side, trying to conceal his rising blush. “Well I mean, you are.”

You stifled a laugh and he looked back to you, “Legolas, would you like to lay down?”

“Would you like to lay down?” You repeated slowly.

“Mellon nìn I could not—”

You laughed, “you say that and then continue to call me mellon nìn?”

“Ah, well…”

“Legolas, lay down next to me… please?” There was a small smile on your face. Legolas sighed and gave in, placing himself next to you on the bed. Immediately you rested your head on his chest and slung your arm around his waist. Gingerly, he placed his arm around your shoulders and tugged you a bit closer.

“Are you sure you haven’t gone delusional?” He asked.

You hummed contently and yawned, “I might be.”

“If I can’t call you mellon nìn anymore… what shall I call you?” He asked.

“There’s an assortment of endearing nicknames out there,” you mumbled. “Take your pick by the time I wake up.”

Not even moments later you had fallen into a comfortable sleep in his arms. He stared down at you studying your face and using his free hand to twirl stands of your hair and brush them away from your face.

“I believer there’s only one name for me to call you now,” he whispered. “Meleth nìn.”

691 notes · View notes

danceswithsporks · 10 months

Note

Oooh I’m happy to see another talented writer doing the prompt list trend! #2 with Hunter and F!reader? I’ve always wanted to see more angsty sex with clones.

Ahhhh!!! This was so intense to write! I hope you enjoy it and so sorry for the tears in advance!!

Hunter x Fem!reader

“Just wanna fuck away the pain”

The battle had been an absolute bloodbath. So many lost brothers scattered the battlefield and the planet. The bad batch had been scattered to the four winds, each leading their own platoon in a massive counterattack against a Separatist stronghold. The batch would be the distractions on the outside as the Jedis infiltrated the base. It was supposed to be easy enough.

Until it wasn’t. They had known you were all coming. Somehow they’d been tipped off and they were ready. The moment the Jedi had disappeared into the base, the droids attacked. Thousands had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Attacking with everything they had. From B1 battle droids to full-on tanks. Your platoon against the droids had seemed like nothing. A drop in a massive bucket of droids. Fifty men plus you and Hunter against maker knew how many droids. After the first hundred, you’d all lost count.

It had been a hard-fought battle that had gone on for hours and while victory had been achieved, it had come at a cost. Your platoon had walked away with a stomach-churning 45 deaths. Some had been killed instantly while others had died in yours and Hunter's arms. At that moment you wondered if he was glad for the darkness of his armor making the blood staining it unable to be seen. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could still see the way it all affected him. How his body hung in defeat as he lowered each clone to the ground before placing their hands on their chests. The way the pain in his voice was clear as he slowly spoke into his comm.

“Forty-five confirmed fatalities.”

Your heart sank as you listened to the pain and sadness in his voice. The others rang in their numbers and realization dawned on you that your platoon had lost far more than the others. It seemed that you two had taken the brunt of the battle.

“It’s gonna take us some time to finish things up here.” Anakins voice rang over the comm. “Head back to the Resolute and we’ll meet you there.”

“Understood.” Came as a whisper from you as you walked over and placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder. No words passed between the two of you as you made the long walk back to your shuttle. The sound of your feet trudging through the thick brush of land seemed to be the only sound between all of you.

It wasn’t until you were safe and sound on the Resolute an hour later that you finally spoke. Now alone in the privacy of the Marauder, you finally found your words. “Hunter?” His back was facing you as he stared at the door to the fresher. A grunt was his only response to you.

It had been his highest casualty count ever. Never had he lost so many. Had failed to protect so many. Yes, they were soldiers, but they had also been his vod. This was why he didn’t work with regs, this was why he didn’t like being part of the larger whole. Too many variables and too many lives on the line. Too many lives in his hands and this was the result. He wanted to vomit, to scream and throw things and punch something and…

And…

Your hand snaked into his and he found himself inhaling slowly. Never had he been more thankful for you to be by his side. You moved around him carefully and he froze as your hand raised to his helmet. He didn’t want you to see him this way, almost a shell of the man he usually was. The sound of the latches of his helmet unlocking echoed through his ears as you carefully pulled the piece of armor off.

“Oh, Hunter.” You sighed softly as you ran your thumb across his cheek and wiped away the tears that were there. The wait of being the leader was a heavy one. The weight of being a leader who’d lost so many at once was heavier. “Let me help you.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand.

When had he started to cry? The worry in your eyes was clear to him. Hunter opened his mouth to say something to you but found himself unable to speak. So instead he gave you a small grunt as your hand wrapped around his wrist and began to undo his gauntlets and gloves. Every single movement you made was slow and meticulous. Your fingers found the clasp for the gauntlets and easily clicked them open. Slowly, almost painfully slow, you pulled them and his gloves off and let them fall to the floor with a soft thud. A shutter left his body as you carefully ran your finger across one of his palms, your bottom lip quivering between your teeth. The care and delicate movements you showed him made his heart flutter.

You watched as he suddenly pulled his hand away from you and moved it up to your cheek where he cupped it gently. His nose ran across the tip of yours as he closed the gap between your faces and his lips hovered over yours. You wanted to kiss him so badly, to share in the pain and anguish you both felt. But at this moment was it right to desire such a thing? When your partner, your Hunter, was clearly in so much pain.

It was like he could read your mind. The distance between your lips was closed with a soft kiss. His rough lips danced across yours in one of the softest and sweetest kisses he’d ever given you. Like he was almost afraid to hurt you. Reaching your hand up, you wrapped it around the one against your cheek and squeezed it tightly as if to let him know that he wouldn’t hurt you. Only then did he deepen the kiss. Gone was the gentleness of a man struggling to keep himself centered and not lose control. In his place now stood a man desperate to find a release and you’d be there to give it to him however he needed.

His hand moved from your cheek and gripped your waist tightly as he moved you toward the back of the ship. Your fingers moved desperately over his chest plate as you looked for the latches to unclasp the piece of armor. With a successful click, the plastoid fell to the metal floor with another loud thunk. He grunted against your mouth as he finally found a wall to press you against. Heat began to pool in your stomach as he slid his leg between yours, his lips never leaving yours. His roughness was so intoxicating that it left your head spinning. As badly as you wanted him right now, he needed you even more. “Hunter, my knight. Please. Tell me what you need.” Your hand rested against his sweat and blood-stained chest as you spoke quietly to him. Those golden eyes you adored more than the sun itself looked into yours as he let out a dark but shuddering breath.

“I.. I can’t. It’s not fair to you.” He couldn’t look at you right now, not when the almost animalistic side of him was begging for him to take you. To make the pain go away, however, he could.

“I want to help you, my love.” Your nose rubbed against his as you tried to get him to look at you. “Whatever you need from me, it’s yours. Take what you need.”

“I need you. I just need to fuck you. To feel you around me. I…I just need to fuck away the pain.” A small gasp left your lips as he spoke. “I know I wouldn’t be gentle. This wouldn’t be something sensual and beautiful like we usually do. You don’t deserve the kind of fucking I’d be giving you.” No. You deserved sweet and beautiful sex where he worshiped your body like the goddess you were to him. Instead, he’d rutt into you like an angry beast, the world be no gentleness, only anger.

That pool inside you only seemed to grow at his words. Lowering your head, you found the crook of his neck and placed gentle kisses against his sweaty skin. The taste of salt danced across your tongue as you did so. “Then I’ll tell you to stop if it becomes too much. But I want to help you, Hunter. So please…” You pulled your lips back and looked up at him with darkening eyes. “Use me as your toy. Fill me with the relief you need and we’ll talk later.” Your lips found his once more and you pressed multiple soft sweet kisses against his lips. “Fuck away all your pain inside of me and let me replace it with my love.”

How he’d ever repay you for something like this, he’d never be able to figure out. That was something he was sure of. His cock strained against his codpiece as he asked you once more if you were sure. When you nodded to him, lips swollen from the rough kisses you’d been giving him. The thread holding him back snapped and the angry beast inside of him was released.

Hunter reached up and gripped the front of your medics uniform and with swift movement the material was torn to shred and thrown to the ground. He’d replace it later for you. For now, he just needed your scent in his nose and on his body. He needed to replace the stench of blood and tears and battle that hung around him in a dark thick cloud of molasses.

“Leave your blacks on.” You whispered through racing breaths. He eyed you carefully as you reached forward and unlatched your black lace bra from the front. His leg that was situated between yours raised and grinded needly against your core causing you to whine. “I want to replace the battle on them with the smell of us. Please.”

Stars, how he adored how you always had his heightened senses on your mind, even when he didn’t. “Yes.” Was growled darkly from him as he moved your hips back and forth against his armored thigh. “Want your scent to be all I smell forever.” He’d have you cumming on all of his armor and blacks just to have your scent with him. You moaned and whined under his hands and the sound scent waves of electricity to his hard cock. More, he needed more of you. Hunter moved his hand to his side and quickly pulled out his knife. “Hold very still.” Came as a demand from him.

Your wide eyes watched as he brought the knife to your hip and sliced the side of your panties clean off. Only the feather-light touch of the tip grazed your skin and you let out a small shiver. In one fluid movement, the knife was returned to its sheath and thrown across the room. You tried to make a mental note of where it landed but your thoughts were pulled back to the sound of fabric ripping as the rest of your panties were torn from your body and thrown to the floor. “F-fuck.” The feeling of his armor against your dripping heat was even more amazing now.

He’d replace those as well. For now, he just needed more of you. He let you slide your juices against his thigh gauntlets for a moment before he lifted you up while falling to his knees. Both your legs were placed over his shoulders as he quickly buried his face into your drilling heat. Between the wall helping to hold you up and his strength, you weighed nothing to him. His tongue eagerly lapped at your cunt as he drank from you like a man dying. He didn’t care that you’d been on the battlefield for the last few hours sweating. To him, the smell of sweat and you was more than amazing.

His course stubble rubbed against your thighs in an exhilarating feeling that filled you with pain and pleasure. You moaned and cried out his name as he ate you aggressively. Your hands finding his wonderful locs of hair and gripping it tightly. He hissed against your pull before his licks grew rougher. “H-hunter! Gah! Please! Fuck!” It felt so fucking good. One of your hands released his hair and shot to your needy clit. If you could just rub yourself the right way, you’d be coming in moments. His hand grabbed yours and pulled it away as you felt his tongue leave your now-drenched cunt.

“That’s mine. You can only touch it when I tell you to. Got it?” His eyes watched as yours widened with surprise and lust. When you nodded slowly, he smirked before biting the inside of your thigh. “Good girl.” Your moan of pleasure at his bite egged him on. “Go ahead and play with your pearl. Cum on my face like the good little whore you are.”

This side of Hunter was dizzying. But before you could even let him know how much it turned you on that he spoke to you like this, he was back between your legs and lapping you up like an animal. Your hand returned to your clit and you quickly began to work circles against it. So close, so unbelievably close to coming on him. Your legs squeezed around his head as you neared your release. A growl rippled from him and into your core as his finger slipped in and quickly you were shaking around him, his name leaving your lips in the most sinful of cries.

Your release hit his tongue and his nose in a wave of ecstasy. His name on your lips as he pressed his face even deeper into you to savor and grab every last drop he could pull from you. The hand in his hard loosened as you rode out your high. Pulling away, he watched as your chest raised and lowered rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. His hand tightened around your thighs and rubbed them roughly as he waited for your breathing to mellow out.

It took a moment for your breathing to begin to return to normal. Your head taking even longer to come down from the dizzying feeling of your orgasm. But Hunter didn’t wait. He lowered you back to the ground and used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face before pointing to the pile of your clothing on the ground.

“On your knees. I need to feel that pretty mouth around my cock.”

Another demand that made your already weak legs turn to jelly. “Yes, sir.” Left you in a breathy sigh as you lowered to your knees and placed your hands on his thighs. You made quick work of his codpiece and within seconds the piece of armor was being tossed to the side. Beneath the piece of armor was the most delicious of sights for you. His thick long cock was already peeking out of the top of his pants. Eager to be free and inside of you. His fingers slid into your hair and with a rough pull, your face was rubbing against the front of his pants and his length. He was so aggressive right now and a part of you loved it.

Hunter groaned out a “fuck” as your lips lapped at the tip of his weeping member while your hands pulled it free. That wouldn’t be enough, he knew this wouldn’t be enough for him. No, he wanted, needed, that soaked honey pot between your legs. This was to just lube him up even more before he broke you. Taking him was already a process for you and usually, you two would spend a lot of time getting ready for him. But you didn’t have that luxury today. “That’s right my little whore. Take my cock in your mouth.” He watched as your lips wrapped around him and slowly began to work down his shaft. Your hand at the base squeezed him gently and he bucked into your throat. “Fuck you look so pretty like that.”

Tears pulled at the corners of your eyes as he fucked your throat mercilessly. Your hands gripped tightly against the plastoid of his armor and just as you felt you couldn’t take anymore. He pulled away from you. A few coughs left you as you finally breathed normally.

He felt bad for making you gag and cough from how hard he’d fucked your throat. But the wildness inside him, that anger, made the care he felt take a backseat. He lowered you carefully to the ground and easily bent you in half. “Be a good girl and take this dick.”

You felt the tip of his cock rub against your aching core. “Please. Hunter. Need you.” You needed him to fill you. To fuck you raw and make you scream. You needed to hear him scream as he came in you. Your pleas didn’t go unanswered and in one swift movement, he was burying himself into you. A moan and scream left you at the same time as he pushed and pushed until his balls hit your ass.

You felt fucking mind-blowing. This was deeper than he’d ever been in you. He waited only a moment for you to adjust before he was thrusting and ramming you quickly. Your moans and cries of pleasure filled his ears as he chased his relief inside of you. He’d fill you with all of him, all he could give you. His pain, his suffering, his anger, and sadness. He’d fuck it all into you. “That’s right. Take this dick.” Hunter groaned as he felt your pussy tighten around him with each of his thrusts. “Take it. Take it all.”

“Yes, Hunter! Fuck! Please fill me!” A strangled cry left you as his thumb rubbed your clit in rough tight circles. The sound of your bodies slapping echoed around the ship as he screwed you into the metal floor. A tightness began to form in your stomach as he adjusted slightly and suddenly hit that spot inside you that made your world spin.

You screamed his name as you came undone around him. The tightness of your pussy pulled him to his own release and after just a few more rough thrusts he was emptying all of himself into you. Every drop of pain, sadness and anger flowed from him and into you, and with a strangled sob, he collapsed into you.

You held Hunter tight against your chest as you both settled into the cool floor. You’d get up in a bit. For now, you simply needed to hold the man you loved so dearly. Gentle hands rubbed his back as he hurried his face into your neck and cried softly. “I’m here.”

He knew he’d been so horribly rough and aggressive with you. That you’d put up with it for his sake. He adored you with every fiber of his being and hoped he didn’t hurt you too much. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m ok.” Came as a whisper as you listened to him apologize again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Please forgive me.”

“I’m sorry.”

You knew that those last ones weren’t for you. That they were for those he’d lost that day. Those that he couldn't protect and keep alive. With a slow breath. You kissed the top of his head and whispered.

“We forgive you.”

#clone wars fic #the bad batch fic #hunter bad batch #hunter x you #hunter x reader #pain #angst with forgiveness #poor hunter #hunter tbb #tbb hunter

33 notes · View notes

puppy-pie · 3 months

Note

(⚰️🪷 anon ^^)

-> growing more confident! :3

(Also, you answering my last question was very kind, and I'm slowly growing accustomed to it more now, thank you!!) 🙏🏼

I would enjoy sitting at someone's feet, just sitting on my knees, perhaps, maybe a collar on? The leash in their hands, able to yank or pull on it to grab my attention.

Just wanna rest my head on their thigh, maybe have their legs wrapped around my shoulders, I feel like it would feel amazing, especially if they're a bigger person, can just use their legs as a pillow. (I love how ppl can just be shapes and sizes, not in a weird way, I just find it beautiful as a human.)

Hi love bug!!

Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back around to answering this, been so busy with work and school and work and ughhh! Dw.

I’m glad you’re growing accustomed to asks it makes me happy I looooveee getting them (I feel all important n shit)

Sounds to me like somebody wants to be a cute little pet! Ahhhh I’m so excited! I wish I was the one able to get you into that adorable little floaty mind space with your eyes all lidded, pupils blown out, tongue drooling justttttt a bit…so cuteee. Just gotta say my thighs are rlllllyyyyy soft. And having someone likes you just at my disposal? To rest there? To pet your hair while we do something simple like Watch TV? Someone whose mouth I could play with, sticking my fingers in there for you to suck on brainlessly? Sounds divine. Trust me, it’d be comfortable for you all the way up until I get frustrated and decide I need to fuck myself on your tongue. That might get a bit rough, but I promise it’d follow with lots of tummy rubs and kisses on the nose afterwards <3 💖 (btw, I too love how many different shapes and sizes people come in!! Im just in love with how unique we all are!!)

(I’m tired tonight hun but tomorrow I’ll take some thigh pics and attach it to this for you ^^)

#queer nsft #t4t nsft #trans nsft #ftm nsft #dom posting #transmasc #ftm top #ftm dom #petpl@y #petpl4y #anon ask #answered #collar and leash #trans dom

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

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Survivor Blues

Part Five : Souvenirs

A/N: Ahhhh this has been SUCH a long time coming, and I am sorry for taking so long with it, but this is a very important chapter and I did not want to rush through it. I want to take a second to thank every single person who has been reading and supporting this story thus far. All of your comments and feedback mean the world to me, and I hope that you continue to enjoy the rest of this story and the places I’m taking it.

Warnings: *PLEASE TAKE THESE SERIOUSLY* Blood, canon typical violence, injury, discussion of death by suicide, death of a minor, PTSD - if you are at all unsure please feel free to send a message and ask for more clarification as to what is included in this chapter.

Word Count: 8,284

Summary: You and Joel finish your supply run, and it almost goes off without a hitch.

May - 2037

The following morning, Joel woke up early.

The creak of old hinges and the scrape of the warped bedroom door against the floorboards pulled your attention from the window you were watching the sky lighten through, and you turned in time to see him emerge from the hallway. That wasn’t a full four hours. He had insisted on taking the first watch through the night, letting you take the first block of rest in the bedroom while he remained in the living room with his shotgun in reach and his pistol on his person. Though you’d appreciated the chance to get some sleep before continuing the next leg of your journey, you hadn’t made full use of your four hours, either. I was already awake when he knocked to switch with me.

“Mornin’.” His voice, though low, sounded clear, and not at all as though he’d just woken up. Not that you knew the sound of his southern drawl when it was weighed down with the gravel of slumber. But I wonder if he slept at all. “All good out here?”

Setting your gun down and rising from your seat on the couch, you brushed your palms over your pants. “Hey. Yeah.” You gave him a nod as he crossed the room to stand in front of the window. “It was nice and quiet. Didn’t see anything.”

“Good.” He brought his left hand up to grip the frame, right one resting on his hip. You watched his shoulders rise and fall with his sigh, the back of his head moving slightly as he peered out into the trees. Early morning light caught in his hair, highlighting the silver strands against the deeper brown. “Boring is good.”

You let out a short huff of laughter. “It definitely beats the alternative in this case.” He responded with a hum and you started busying yourself with small tasks that needed to be done before you could set out for the day. Folding the rickety old Coleman stove that you’d used the night before and locking the lid into place, you picked it up and carried it over to the closet Joel had taken it from. “Were you able to get some rest?” You asked the question over your shoulder as you kneeled down to slide the stove behind a crate, waiting until he answered to turn around.

“Yeah,” he said. “I got enough.” Good. You heard the groan of weathered wood as he pushed away from the windowsill, his footsteps carrying him to the center of the room as you stood and closed the closet door. “I’m sure I’ll sleep like a log after today’s ride.”

It was as clear a segue as possible - he answered your question and made it clear that he wasn’t looking for a discussion on his sleep habits by bringing up the day ahead of you. Fair. I don’t exactly want to talk about why I don’t sleep well either. “Yeah,” you headed back to the table to pack up your mug as he reached for his to do the same, your fingers almost brushing his as they wrapped around the handle, but you avoided contact by swiveling your wrist and pulling your mug away. “What do we have to cover? About 25 miles?”

“Give or take.” When he finished stowing his camp mug, he tapped a location on the map that was still laid out from when you’d discussed the remainder of your route the previous night. “We’re here.” Your eyes followed the motion of his pointer as he traced it south along the highway. “Eye doctor is here.” He tapped the wrinkled page again on a town called Alpine, right along the border with Idaho. “Rest stop Margo and Ethan told us about is close by, so we’ll stop there for the night, head back up here the following morning.”

Nodding, you crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at the map. Right. Margo and Ethan.

You hadn’t met either of them yet, but you had heard those names more than a handful of times since you’d been in Jackson, especially from Evelyn at the bakery. Though the town was remarkably self-sufficient, there were things that simply couldn’t be grown or found or made there - certain fruits, spices, salt, sugar. That was where Margo and Ethan came in, the pair part of a larger network of nomadic traders who traveled between settlements offering things that people might otherwise have to go without. They all had their loops that they stuck to, regions that they knew were relatively safe and people that they’d built trust with over time. According to Evelyn, they stopped through once or twice a year, everyone always excited about what they might be able to barter for. Supposedly they sometimes even had rarities like cocoa beans and coffee, along with medications smuggled straight out of still-operating QZs, clothing, and a selection of random knickknacks, books and miscellany.

Like a traveling Walmart.

What they didn’t have the last time that they passed through Jackson, apparently, had been eyeglasses. Though there was a small stock of generic reading lenses in the town’s supply, pairs with prescription lenses in varying strengths were always in demand to replace broken ones or to accommodate for declining vision over time. They did, however, offer up the location of an old optometrist office that they’d discovered on their travels, as well as a safe place to rest along the way in a town that they claimed was practically clear of infected.

Sounds too easy. You dropped your arms, splaying your hands on the table and leaning over them, a slight frown that you didn’t even feel causing your lips to curve downwards. What if it’s some kind of set-up?

Your mind immediately flashed back ten years, to when you, Laura and Kyle were making your way southwest through Kentucky. You’d crossed paths with people claiming to be traders then, too, swapping a bottle of bourbon you’d come upon in an abandoned roadside bar for a few unopened cans of food. It was winter, and hunting had been scarce, and though it went against your better judgment to rely on a stranger, you and Laura had her then seven year old son to consider - and there was no way either of you would let him go hungry. So when the traders pointed you in the direction of the warehouse they said they found cases of edible food in - too much for us to carry, and we figure it should go to someone who needs it, the thin, lank-haired man who seemed to be the leader of their group had said through a toothy grin - you didn’t even consider not going to check it out. You did go alone though, instinct telling you that it would be safer if your family stayed behind.

And I was right. Absently, your left hand drifted to the right side of your waist, just above your hip. There, under your clothing you wore a streak of scarred skin from where a bullet had grazed you from the lofted office area of the warehouse as soon as you’d been inside. They just wanted to lure us there and then… You cringed, trying not to think about what the band of marauders would have done to you had you not been a better shot than them. They may have gotten you, but you were the only one to walk away that day, leaving five bodies in your wake and returning to Laura and Kyle with a bag full of food. It could have gone so much worse.

“Hey.” Looking up from the map, you found Joel studying your expression, his head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “We can trust them.” You blinked, eyes going round again with surprise at the way he correctly read your body language. “I’ve only met ‘em a handful of times, but Tommy said Jackson’s been trading with ‘em for years. They’re good people.”

What little you knew of Joel from the limited time the two of you had spent together, including your very first encounter, told you that he was just as cautious as you were. And you knew that Tommy and Maria would never continue to work with people who posed a threat to the town. But what you knew of people told you that even the best ones were capable of terrible things under the right circumstances, so you were wary.

Though there was a slight shiver of warning that ran down your spine, you didn’t press the matter, deciding to trust what Joel was telling you. With a sigh, you nodded again. It’s not the same as Kentucky. They were strangers and he… the town vouches for these people. “Alright.” And if he’s wrong… that’s why we’re armed. “Well, I’m about ready to head out whenever you are. Just need to fill these.” You grabbed the water canteens the two of you had brought.

“There’s a stream that runs out back,” he responded, folding up the map and turning to tuck it into his pack. “We can fill ‘em on our way out.”

Within ten minutes the two of you had gathered up your things and secured the safe house, shutting the garage door behind you as you left with the horses. Though the alert sensation that pricked the back of your neck faded some as morning bled into afternoon, you and Joel stopping midway through your journey to eat and rest the animals, it never truly left you, despite the fact that the trip didn’t yield even a single sighting of infected or people. Still time for shit to go sideways.

It didn’t, though. You reached the town of Alpine without incident, your horses’ hooves clopping over the cracked concrete of the ruined road. At first glance it was clear that no one had called the place home for a long time - buildings in complete disrepair, cars rusted through in parking lots and driveways, saplings sprouting out of gutters and vines and bushes bursting through windows and broken porch floorboards. You chalked that up to the fact that it seemed that not many people had called it home before the outbreak, and you knew that small towns like this one were among the first to be emptied out by FEDRA in the early days.

“Well, we’re gonna have to be real careful goin’ into any of these places,” Joel said, his voice calling your attention away from a sizable bird’s nest that had been built into a hole in one of the building’s roofs. “Don’t want to fall through a rotted floor. But it looks like a ghost town, so that’s good.”

That thing that wouldn’t leave you alone stirred in your stomach, but you agreed. “It does.” You just hoped that no ghosts were still lingering. A sign that was visible behind him caught your eye then, and you extended a hand to point it out to him. He turned just enough so that he could see where you were indicating. It was missing a few letters, but there was no mistaking what it had said originally - Gas Gifts Beer Snacks “That must be the rest stop. Wanna check it out before we find the eye doctor? Make sure its-”

“Yeah.” Joel turned back to face you, head moving up and down as he did. “We don’t want any surprises later when we go to turn in for the night.”

No, we do not.

Twenty years ago, a surprise in a place like a roadside rest stop meant grabbing the most outrageous sounding flavor of chips that you could find, or reaching for a bottled drink in some crazy shade of electric blue. It meant buying some cheesy t-shirt or funny shot glass to remember your trip by. But now? A surprise almost certainly meant danger, and if there was any, dealing with it in the daylight was the smarter course of action.

Keeping your eyes up and constantly moving, you scanned the windows and doorways of the surrounding buildings as the two of you guided your horses over to what remained of the gas pump. The only movement you caught was the flap of wings as a large bird returned to the nest in the roof. I guess Margo and Ethan were right. It seemed safe and quiet and completely abandoned. Joel seemed to come to the same conclusion, the man giving you a nod before climbing down from his horse. Following suit, you swung your leg over the saddle and stepped down to the ground.

“Alright, Nutmeg.” You spoke in a soft, low voice as you patted the light brown horse’s mane and tied the reins loosely to the pump.

Joel did the same. Muttering a “Stay put, Callus,” as he looped the leather straps around like you’d done, and then he directed his attention at you, pulling his gun from his belt. “You ready?”

Bending down just enough to reach, you drew your knife from your boot, rotating the handle in your palm until you found your preferred grip. You rose back to your full height and met his eyes. “Yeah.”

He took a breath in through his nose and released it slowly, the space between his eyebrows forming a deep furrow as they came together. “Stick close. We should be fine. In and out real quick but-”

“Just in case,” you finished for him. Releasing a steadying exhale of your own, you stepped up next to him. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

With that, you headed towards the door, feeling as Joel fell into step beside you. As you reached for the handle, his arm flew out and beat you to it, his large hand curling around it. Oh. A gentleman. He cautiously eked it open, both of you sucking in a gasp and then holding it as the bell above the door jamb jingled. Shit. Seconds stretched for minutes as you stood there, silently waiting and crowded into the half-opened door with Joel. But the tingling chimes faded eventually, revealing only more silence on the other side. We’re okay.

Joel turned to look at you instead of through the open sliver of door, your bodies only inches apart. “If there were any infected in there, they’d be on us already. Think we’re safe.”

You squeezed the grip of your knife and swallowed. “I think so, too.”

He held your gaze for half a beat, and then tore it away as he yanked the door wide enough for you both to step inside. Once you were, your eyes swept around the space, confirming that there were no infected or any other threats in the small shop. A few completely empty shelves were growing moss where bags of snack food and stacks of road maps used to be displayed. You figured that if traders knew about this place, they likely would have already taken all of the valuable items like food, toothpaste and motor oil. A small counter held a dilapidated old register, the drawer extended and cash laying all over the ground. Behind that, another door stood open that led to a combination break room and stock room, a pair of beat up old couches against two walls and PVC shelving on the other too. Guess that’s where we’ll sleep tonight.

“Well,” Joel holstered his gun and rolled out his right shoulder. “Doesn’t look like there’s anything we can use here, but it’s clear.”

You picked up your leg and sheathed your blade, letting out a dry laugh. “Damn, I was hoping for some hot fries.”

He returned your laugh with a short chuckle of his own. “I haven’t thought about those things in years. They were good.”

“They were.” You walked further into the room, spotting a fourth shelf you hadn’t seen at first, this one not empty but the contents of it making you let out another amused huff. Makes sense this stuff would still be laying around. Pointing out the shelf of grime covered souvenir mugs, keychains, shot glasses and mottled postcards, you spoke again. “But if you need any fridge magnets or beer koozies while we’re here, you’re in luck” You glanced over your shoulder as he came closer. “Or how about a new keychain?” There was a stand with rows of pegs, some of them broken, the others still holding replica license plate keychains. Flicking one of them, you peered more closely at them and narrowed your eyes. “I don’t see your name, but -” Pinching one of the last pieces hanging from the pegs, you slid one off and turned to hold it out to him. “We could always add an L to Joe with a sharpie marker.”

His boots crunched over the shattered remains of a shot glass as he stepped up beside you, a small grin giving way to another chuckle. “Go figure. Some things never change.” He used his pointer finger to indicate a whole row of Tommy plates, and then it was your turn to laugh. “Used to piss me off when we were kids that his name was always so easy to find on stupid stuff like this.”

“I bet.” You shook your head, a smile curving up one side of your face as you returned your attention to the display. “If it makes you feel better, they don’t have my name in stock..”

Bringing his finger up to the top of the display where the names beginning with E were meant to hang, he clicked his tongue and tapped the peg containing a few cracked Elizabeths. “No Ellie, either.”

You tossed the Joe keychain onto the counter. “Well this place doesn’t deserve our business then.” Knocking your knuckles on the surface, you sighed. “But it’s a fine place to sleep.”

“It is.” He agreed, and then it was clear that the moment of levity you’d just shared was over. “We should head out for the eye doctor, see if there’s any other shops worth checkin’ out.”

“Alright.” You nodded, and that was all it took for him to turn and head back out into the crisp air. Alright.

It was a short ride to the optometrist that the traders had marked on the map, and aside from a stray cat that slunk under a broken fence as soon as it saw you, you didn't see anything disconcerting. But for some reason, the prick of wariness along your spine was still present, even though you’d repeated the same cautious entry into the building as you’d done with the rest stop - Joel reaching for the door handle, pulling it open just enough for both of you to look inside, standing stock still and holding your breath for a full ten count. There was no movement, no groaning string of clicks, no distraught screeches.

“Think we’re good,” Joel’s voice rumbled close to your ear. “Let’s see what we can find.”

You swallowed as he pushed the door open, and once again when you looked around you saw nothing but furniture in various stages of disrepair and cases holding pairs of glasses. Yeah. And then let’s get out of here. Clearing your throat, you followed him into the store. “Pairs with prescription lenses are probably going to be…” You stepped over a chair that was on its side, making your way towards a long counter in the back. “Over here. Most of these -” you gestured to the various pairs around the room, “- are just rims with placeholder lenses. But…yup.” Reaching over the counter, you picked up a tray containing a pair of glasses with a faded, water-damaged but still legible handwritten prescription that had never been picked up. “There’s a bunch over here that have real lenses.”

“Good.” Joel crossed the room, stepping over a different chair and coming around a smaller consultation desk. “Maybe I can find a better pair for readin’ than the ones I got at home.”

You immediately pictured him with spectacles perched on the scarred bridge of his nose, using one finger to situate them better. Oh. That’s… that would be… The image conjured a quick rush of warmth that you did your best to ignore. There was no denying that Joel Miller was an attractive man. But I’m not looking for… I’m not ready for anything to… This is a fucking supply run. Stop.

Clearing your throat, you cocked your head at the desk. “Yeah, come give some of these a try, see if any feel right.”

You grabbed a few more trays, pausing as you looked down at the one on top - a bright yellow pair with purple and red daisies painted on the rims, the arms small enough to curl behind the ears of a preschool aged child. Telling yourself not to think about why that pair was still here in the shop or where the kid they were meant for was now, you plucked them and a few others from the trays and secured them in your bag.

But as Joel rounded another one of the consultation desks, a loud crash rang from a doorless back storeroom that neither of you had noticed at first. Oh, fuck. The two of you barely had time to lock eyes before the misshapen form of a woman came lurching out. Veiny fungal growths sprouted from one eye socket and overtook the side of her face, but her opposite eye still seemed to be functioning. With it, the creature honed in on your position and threw itself at you, scrambling over anything it its way and snarling viciously at you. Shit, shit, shit. Dropping the tray you held, you reached for your knife, drawing it just as the infected woman threw herself over the desk at you. Here we go.

You were vaguely aware of noise and motion happening on the other side of the room, but you couldn’t risk taking your eyes off the threat right in front of you. Deal with this one first, then check on Joel. You heard the shatter of glass and the sound of his grunts, but then the creature attacking you was crouching right on the desk in front of you, and you took your chance, thrusting your knife directly into the side of her neck that was not covered in plate-like growths.

You’d done it so many times that finding that sweet spot of decaying flesh at the base of the skull seemed second nature to you. Your blade sunk to the hilt, slicing the fungal stem immediately, and then the body on your knife went slack. Fuck. Turning as soon as you were able to, you watched in horror for a second as Joel wrestled his way behind a second infected creature, stepping on shards of broken glass as he did. Just as you went to pull your knife free to go help him, though, he sunk his own blade deep into the thing’s neck the same way that you had, and it dropped onto what you realized was one of the broken display cases. It must’ve crashed through trying to get to him. It-

Your frantic, thumping brain was muted as he spoke your name, breathlessly panting as he staggered away from the infected he put down. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you answered instantly. “Yeah, I’m-” You gasped, wide eyes snapping immediately to his arm. No. “Joel.” The sight stopped your heart and filled your ears with static. It dropped an ice cold lead weight into your stomach and froze your feet in place. No. His sleeve was torn, the fabric stained dark with blood and sticking to the skin beneath it, and then it was as though the room was collapsing. No, he - it didn’t… that’s not from-

“Hey.” You registered a look of concern on his face, but not for himself as he said your name again. “Hey, look at me, are you-”

But all you could hear was your own breathing, the sound of your own heart pounding on your ribcage, and then you weren’t at the optometrist in Alpine anymore. You were thrown back to that afternoon- the frozen rain pelting the windows of that dingy roadside motel off I-80 in Nebraska, dust settling back into the carpet around the two of you where you’d collapsed onto the floor, the dilapidated T.V. stand shoved in front of the door in case the deadbolt gave out, and your nephew’s life speeding to a rapid end before your eyes.

“Let me see, Kyle.” You grabbed frantically at his forearm, tugging and turning it so you had a clearer view of the bite on his bicep. No, no, no, no. Panic seized your chest at the sight of the crescent shaped, once-human teeth marks that were visible through the bloody tears in his sleeve, the swollen, spidery veins of fungal growth already starting to form under his skin. No. I can’t let this… I have to- “M-Maybe we can…” Your breathing grew quick and shallow as you tried to come up with a way - anything - to save him. “If you… if we amputate your arm, maybe it won’t…” You knew that amputation didn’t work, that the infection was already replicating in his body, spreading through his blood with every beat of his heart and turning him. But I have to try. I can’t just… He yanked his arm from your grip then, scooting a few inches away from you, and it wasn’t until then that you realized he had been saying your name. “Kyle? Please, you have to let me-”

“No.” His curls bounced fiercely as he shook his head, and in your mind he was four years old again, giggling as he chased rabbits through the yard at the farm, pudgy hands swiping untamable locks from his eyes. Oh, my little buddy. His nose twitched as he sniffed, upper lip snaring slightly as he fought off terrified tears, big brown eyes brimming with them but the stubbornness of a teenaged boy keeping them latched behind his lashes. God, he’s just a fucking kid, this can’t be h- He spoke again, clipping your naïve thoughts short. “No, Ti.”

His voice cracked then, and so did your heart as he used the nickname Laura had taught him to call you by back when single syllables were all he could handle. Ti. He’d stopped calling you Ti or Ti-ti years ago, opting instead for your first name - a right of passage that made him feel more adult, you’d guessed, in a way that didn’t stain his soul like other adult milestones did since the outbreak changed the landscape of humanity. It was harmless, and if it made him feel stronger or braver to consider himself an equal, you’d let him call you whatever he wanted. But in that moment, hearing him call you by that name after so much time unlocked something in you, and you felt the fight drain from your body.

“No.” He said it one more time, as firmly as he could, before swallowing hard and then letting out a shaky exhale. “I don’t wanna draw it out. I don’t want it to h-” He winced as a fat tear went rogue and rolled over the freckled apple of his cheek, and since you were no longer trying to inspect his bite, he let you reach for his hand, let you take it and squeeze it tight in your own grasp. “Don’t want it to hurt more than it h-has to.”

You felt his fingers tremble and saw his bottom lip quiver and all you wanted to do was wrap him in your arms and sweep him into your lap, fix everything by blowing raspberries over the still-wet tears until they turned into squeals of laughter. But he wasn’t four years old, and this wasn’t a skinned knee and there was nothing you could do to fix it for him.

“And I don’t want you to have to…” He gave another quick toss of his curls, words starting to tumble and trip over themselves in the rush to get off his tongue. “Ti, I don’t want to turn into one of those things. I don’t want to do that to you, I don’t-”

He broke into a sob then, the sensation seeming to come as a shock to him, and despite knowing that it was over, knowing that you’d failed him, knowing that all you could do was help him make it as quick and painless as possible, you didn’t stop yourself from hugging him close one last time, kissing those curls and trying to give him any little scrap of comfort that you could. “Shh, okay,” you gently soothed. “You’re okay, you’re not gonna… I’m not gonna let you turn into-”

He was about to die. Seventeen years - most of them hard - was all he would get out of life. And yet he found a way to worry about you in his final hour.

“I just want to stay me, Ti. I want to stay me, even if-” Oh, buddy.

“I know. I know. I know, buddy. You will. Okay? I promise.” It was the last thing you could give him, and it would leave you wrecked beyond recognition, but you’d be damned before letting cordyceps claim him.

In the end you helped him drag your blade up the inside of his wrist. You didn’t let go of his hand until it was cold.

It was how it had to end. Just… not how it was supposed to.

When you made the choice to leave the quickly collapsing Philly QZ - back before Kyle was even born - you, Gavin and Laura had sworn one another to abide by a code of sorts, a set of rules to live and die by.

Never let someone you love turn. Whatever that meant, however that looked. The three of you had seen more than your fair share of newly infected victims of cordyceps. You had seen the way the light goes out in someone’s eyes the moment that the fungus takes over. You’d seen it make people attack their own families, maul their own pets. And since those early days, you’d seen the aftermath of time - the dried up husks of expired hosts, crusted over where they’d grown into the walls of abandoned buildings. It wasn’t a fate you were willing to condemn someone you cared for - or anyone, for that matter - to. Not if there was something any of you could do about it.

Never make someone you love have to put you down. That one was more straightforward - take control while it was still yours to take. If you were infected, if you turned, Laura, or Gavin, or far worse, eventually Kyle, would have to kill the thing you had become. They would have to live on with the image of your rabid, snarling jaws snapping at them, would have to try to sleep at night as the moment that they shot or bashed or stabbed your infected body played over in their minds. Better to end things first, spare them the pain of having to do it later.

Neither had come into play for Gavin or for Laura, sickness and injury claiming their lives. But in the few years that Ryan and Brayden had been with you at the farm, they had also come to follow that same code, and it had played a role in their deaths. Because when it mattered most they didn’t follow it. They had already left the farm, the pair of them heading west on the word of some passersby who you’d let pitch their tents on the far side of the property for a few nights. Something about a group of revolutionaries and doctors working in secret to find a cure. A pipe dream, but one that they both seemed to think was worth chasing. Maybe it would have been, had they made it to wherever it was that this secret Firefly hive was hidden. But as you learned one morning while out hunting in the woods that edged the far field, they hadn’t made it very far at all.

You had to deal with both of them. And though they were far from the first two infected that you’d killed, they were the first - and only ones - that you knew and had grown to care for, first. They were the ones whose twisted faces you sometimes saw when you closed your eyes at night.

But then Kyle had been bitten, and suddenly the rules you’d written two decades ago applied to you in the cruelest terms imaginable.

“Hey,” Joel’s hand landed heavily on your shoulder, and you snapped back to the present moment, finding his eyes right in front of your own. Joel. He sighed, seemingly relieved that you’d checked back in, but concern still chiseled plainly between the lines on his face. “What happened there, you alright?”

You dropped your eyes to the tear in his sleeve, his arm still bleeding through the fabric. But before where your brain told you there were teeth marks, you saw only a jagged piece of glass sticking out from his bicep. Oh, thank fuck. You brought one shaking hand up to his arm but stopped short of touching him. “You’re hurt,” you said it softly, but only because your throat was too tight for any volume.

He grunted. “I’ll be fine,” he assured you. “Are you hurt at all?” You shook your head and he let out another, heavier sigh of relief. “Let’s get the hell out of here, then.” Releasing his grip on your shoulder, Joel reached over the desk and grabbed the few pairs of glasses that you hadn’t managed to pack up before the attack, and then the two of you left the office in a thick silence that continued until you made it back to the rest stop.

Once inside, you secured the door as Joel headed straight for the back room with the couches, sinking into one of them and gingerly peeling his jacket off. You finished with the door and headed back to join him, entering the small room just as he gritted his teeth and sucked in a hiss, wincing at the piece of glass still stuck in his arm. Shit. That’s gotta come out. He must have come to the same conclusion, because he gripped the shard firmly and pulled, a wet squelching sound accompanying the removal of the shard, and a long, low groan coming from somewhere in the center of his chest. He threw the bloody chunk onto the floor and clapped his hand to his wound, cursing under his breath. Do something. Say something. Help him.

“Can I…” His eyes had been clenched shut but they opened and focused on you as soon as he heard your voice. You sucked in a breath and stepped closer to where he sat. “Can I take a look at that? I… I can help.”

“It’s fine,” he said, blood already pooling between his fingers where he was trying to squeeze his arm to stop the flow. “I’ll just wrap it up, have the doc look at it when we get back to town.”

You shook your head and slid the straps of your backpack off your shoulders. “It’s just gonna keep bleeding, Joel, and we have another whole day until we’ll be back.” Unzipping your pack, you rifled through it until you found the zippered pouch that you used as a first aid kit. Opening that up, you produced a thin rectangular package, holding it up. “I can stitch you up now. Obviously the doctor should still take a look, but…” You trailed off as you showed him what you were holding - a surgical grade single use curved suture needle in its original packing.

His eyes widened, mouth dropping open slightly in surprise as he realized what it was. “Where’d you get that?” He hadn’t said yes to your request to give him help, but he let go of his arm and started unbuttoning his dark blue and maroon plaid shirt, revealing a light gray tee underneath. Guess he’s gonna let me. Good.

“Same bunker I found all the instant coffee packets in also had a couple unopened first aid boxes. The meds, aspirin and antihistamines and whatever else were all opened and they’d gotten wet. But the sterile stuff? Bandages and tools? Those were still sealed so I took what I could carry.” You pulled a small sealed package from the zipped portion on the inside of your backpack and held it up to show him. “Found a bunch of these disposable suture needles, figured they couldn’t hurt to have.” Peeling it open and setting the open package with the needle still in it on your knee while you pulled out a vial of moonshine to clean your hands, you went on. “I gave most of them to Maria when I got here so they could be added to emergency kits for supply and patrol teams, but I kept a few for my own kit.”

“Smart.” He eased the ruined sleeve down over his torn skin and then you poured a little of the grain alcohol over the deep cut, Joel hissing as you did.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to numb it with or-”

“S’fine.” He shook his head. “I can handle it.” A dry, mirthless laugh escaped him then. “Lord knows I’ve had worse.”

“Okay.” You muttered the word under your breath, nodding at the curved needle pinched between your fingers. Testing the durability of the nylon, you pulled it taught to make sure it wouldn’t snap halfway through. The spring of tension you felt told you that it was good to go, so you lifted your eyes back up to the man seated next to you and nodded. “Ready?”

He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. “Go ahead.”

Though you’d done sutures a few times in the past - on Laura, on Kyle, even on yourself - it still felt strange to you when you thought about what you were doing. You tried not to think about the fact that you were sewing a man’s arm and not patching a hole in a pair of jeans. Don’t think about it. Don’t-

“You’re pretty good at that.” His voice was strained and you could tell that he was trying hard not to flinch with each pass of the needle through his flesh. He watched you work. “You’ve done that before.”

It wasn’t a question, but you gave him an answer anyway. “Yeah.” You sighed, working a few more stitches in for a total of 6 and then finishing the job by wrapping the whole area in a strip of torn bedsheet that you’ pre-cut and stuffed into your ramshackle medical kit ages ago. “A few times. Not good enough that you won’t have a scar. You pulled the knot you were tying and tucked the loose ends to secure them. “So it looks like you’re going home with a souvenir from our trip after all, Joel.”

The words slipped out before you realized that you were saying them, and you shut your eyes against the memory that lanced at your heart - laying in bed with Gavin in your tiny apartment in Philly, the cordyceps outbreak of 2013 still two years on the horizon but Gavin’s open-heart surgery scheduled just a few days from then, your fingers tracing over the still unscathed skin of his chest, following the ridge of his sternum. Doc says I’m gonna go home with a pretty decent souvenir from this ordeal, sugar. You still gonna want me when there’s an eight inch scar slicing me in half? The catch in his voice, the weak tightening of the arm he had around you, the fear you knew he was trying to mask with his flippant question and the response you gave without having to think even though you were just as scared. Always, Gav. Always, always, always.

Another memory bubbled up and overtook the first one, this one from much earlier in your relationship, and the first time you’d heard him use the quirky turn of phrase - a bad burn you suffered back when you still worked at the cafe where you and Gavin met, a new employee bumping you from behind and causing you to fumble the large, still-hot from the oven tray that you were handling, the metal scorching the soft skin of your inner forearm and a slew of swears flying from your lips as you managed to set the tray down without dropping it. Gavin chewing out the clumsy new prep cook for not using their kitchen chatter and calling out that they were behind you, then appearing at your side holding a slice of raw tomato that he’d grabbed from the line. His tattooed fingers wrapping around your wrist to hold your arm still as he gently pressed the cold tomato to your burn, the painful sensation soothed almost instantly, his thumb swiping absently into the cup of your palm as he ducked his head to look you in the eye.

Don’t ask me why it works, Sugar, it just does. Enzymes or whatever. Counteracts the burn somehow. He’d peeled the tomato slice away from your arm then, peering down at the triangular shaped blister that was forming over the damaged skin and sucking a hiss through his teeth. Looking like you’re still gonna go home with a souvenir from the kitchen, though. Twisting his own arms, he pointed out a few marks between the designs inked on his forearms and fingers - smudgy looking swatches of lighter flesh where burns had healed, rougher, darker raised lines where he must have nicked himself with the slip of a knife. No one gets outta here without makin’ a few lasting memories first.

You hadn’t used the word souvenir when talking about a scar in years, and you weren’t sure why it came back to you in that moment with Joel. It’s just because we were talking about keychains and fucking shot glasses yesterday. It… it doesn’t mean anything. You weren’t sold on your flimsy explanation, but luckily, you didn’t have long to think about it, Joel’s voice interrupting the untangling of your subconscious.

“Guess I shoulda gone with a magnet.”

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you let out a short laugh. “Well it's not too late for that. Can always grab one before we leave in the morning.”

He hummed. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

From there the two of you settled into a comfortable silence again as you ate the food you’d brought with you and settled yourselves in for the night. Though Spring was upon you it still started to get dark early, and before you knew it, the two of you were stretched out on the couches, preparing to catch a few hours of rest before heading back. Joel had suggested that instead of shifts the two of you both just sleep and as soon as it was light enough to see in front of you, head back and try to make it to Jackson in one day versus one and a half. You agreed, knowing that he needed to have his injured arm looked at, and the sooner that happened the better. Just as you thought he was dozing off to sleep though, he spoke your name and broke the silence.

“Thank you. For takin’ care of my arm. Did a much better job than I would’ve done myself.”

“Oh, yeah.” You shrugged and shook your head. “It probably would have been fine if you just wrapped it until we got back, but-” You stopped yourself from undermining his gratitude. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help.”

He didn’t say anything else, and for a few moments you considered not adding anything else, either. But then you remembered the concern on his face when you checked out earlier, and you felt compelled to explain why seeing him hurt - and hurt in that specific way, on the arm while fighting off an infected - had caused such a strong reaction in you. Or at least apologize.

“Joel?” You held your breath until you heard his acknowledgement, a sound somewhere between a hum and a grunt coming from across the darkened space. “I’m sorry.”

The old springs in the couch creaked with his movement as he turned partially onto his side. “Sorry?” You glanced over and even in the low light you were able to see confusion etched into his expression. “For what?”

“For freezing up like that today.” You sniffed, focus going back to the ceiling as he shifted fully to his side, uninjured arm bent beneath his head. “When I saw the blood on your sleeve, I thought you were…” Closing your eyes, you let out a slow exhale. I thought he was bit. I thought I was going to have to tell Ellie and Tommy that he wasn’t coming home. I thought I was going to have to… You squeezed your eyelids shut more tightly, chasing off thoughts of coming up short again. That’s not what happened. Not this time. Blinking them open, you let out another shaky breath. “It reminded me of…what happened with K- my… my nephew.”

The small room was still and quiet, but you knew that he was listening closely. When you finally tore your eyes from the mildew ridden tiles overhead and turned his way again, you saw that you were right. Though most of his face was in shadow, you still noticed the crease of his brow, the subtle downturn of his mouth. Cloud-muted moonlight struck his eyes as they met yours, and he nodded in a way that told you he understood - that you didn’t have to say that Kyle had been bitten in the exact same place where the shattered display case had sliced Joel’s arm, that the sight of his blood-soaked sleeve after seeing him wrestle with the clicker once he’d sunken his blade into its neck sent your heart and mind racing to the worst possible scenario.

“It’s alright.” Turning onto his back again, Joel let out a small groan to accompany the protest of the couch springs. “It… it happens. The freezin’ up, I mean.” He coughed to clear his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and settling into the worn cushions. “Used to happen to me, too.”

He doesn’t need to do this. Doesn’t need to reassure me. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t appreciate it, though, if you said it didn’t make you feel just a little better to know that he didn’t judge you for how you’d reacted. Because I don’t think he’d just say that.

Keeping your eyes on him, you decided to take your opening. “Used to, huh?” The sole of your left boot caught on the torn upholstery of the arm of the couch you occupied as you stretched your legs out, stacking them at the ankle. “That mean it doesn’t happen anymore?” Maybe that means there’s hope for me.

“Happens less now.” His scoff snuffed that thought, and you were almost glad. A full recovery from the things you’d suffered sounded too good to be reasonable. You had no idea what types of things Joel had been through before settling in Jackson, but you couldn’t imagine that they had been easy. No one who made it this long had it easy.

You hummed and turned your head so that you were staring straight ahead at the wall instead of at him. “Well, I’d take less.” Less would be a good start. When the room went quiet again, you took it as a sign that you’d both said all that you needed to - or all that either of you were ready to, anyway. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You said it low enough that you weren't sure that he heard you, but just as you were starting to drift, you heard his drawl just as low and soft. “G’night.”

– – –

In the morning, he was waiting when you woke up, the light barely starting to fill the room. “Shit, sorry, did I oversleep? Is it- is your arm alright?”

“No, it’s… you’re fine.” He waved you off with the hand of his uninjured arm. “I was gonna wake you up in another ten minutes if you didn’t get up on your own.”

You cleared your throat and sat up, swiping a hand down over your face to cover a yawn. “Okay,” you nodded through the involuntary expression of exhaustion. “Well, I’m up. Let’s…” You grabbed for your bag. “Let’s get these glasses back so you can find a better pair, hmm?”

He let a burst of air out through his nose. “Yeah.” Standing, he took a step closer to you and held something out in his hand. “Here.” You blinked your eyes fully awake and reached for what he was handing you, letting out your own little laugh as your fingers closed around it. “Like you said, I’m gonna have a scar, so I figured you should have somethin’ too.”

Looking down at the small rectangular object, you turned it over so it lay flat in your palm. A magnet. You ran the tip of your pointer finger over the raised images and letters spelling out Wyoming. Lips twitching into a near-smile, you pictured it attached to the plain white fridge in your kitchen back in Jackson.

Something to remember the trip by.

You tucked it into your pack, and then within the ten minute window that he was going to give you for more rest, you gathered yourselves together and hit the road, headed for home.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form on my masterlist!

Tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels @cannedsoupsucks @harriedandharassed @marauderskeeper @joelmillerscoffee @woodlandmouth @swtaura @grfields @valkblue @sleepylunarwolf @stealyourblorbos

#survivor blues #the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #pedrostories #pedro pascal character #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #survivor blues part 5 : souvenirs #trigger warnings #tw suicide #tw blood

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littlemisspascal · 2 years

Text

The Infinity Cube Part 17

Main Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Chapter Pairing: Max Phillips x Female Reader

Word Count: 1900+

Series Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

Warnings for the chapter: Language, canon divergence, lots of blood, reference to murder, Dark Max--seriously, he deserves a stake through the heart, nonconsensual kissing and touching, panic attack symptoms, horror elements, mention of sex at the very end

Author Note: And we’re finally back to this fic! Ahhhh so sorry for the long delay! Please pay attention to the warnings since this chapter is a bit darker than previous ones. And thank you everybody for your kind support of this fic! I appreciate every like, comment, and reblog 💝

PART 1 / PART 16 / PART 18

After meeting Dio, you think there’s nothing that could scare you anymore. What could be scarier than the Devil, after all?

Still, there’s something a bit unnerving about finding yourself curled in a ball inside a poorly lit janitor closet without knowing why. Worse, a look down at yourself reveals an awful amount of blood spatter on your shirt–the lack of wound your frantic hands fail to find means it’s not your blood which you don’t know whether to feel relieved about or not. And even worse still, you see the cube sitting on one of the shelves directly across from you next to a tool bag and yet your body remains paralyzed in place, refusing to move.

Flickers of memories from this universe slip through your fragile wall of defense. Flashes of dead bodies with gaping wounds and echoes of horrified screams have your stomach recoiling, bile rising in the back of your throat. And the blood on your shirt suddenly has a new and significant terrifying meaning.

Outside the closet door, a massacre has taken place. All your coworkers–slaughtered and torn to pieces. No survivors. No one to call for help.

Your breath starts coming out in faster pants. Oh shit. You’re trapped here. Alone. And you can’t leave this nightmare until you meet the Brown Eyes of this universe.

Your head snaps up, a small candle of hope burning away the dark thoughts.

In the past your Brown Eyes has always been there for you, always saved you when you needed him most. If anyone could rescue you from this closet, it would be him.

You cradle the precious feeling, its tiny flame fighting against the cold chill of fear. And for a minute you think you’ll be alright, you’ll be safe here despite all the odds.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Everything’s going to be o–”

Then the door handle jerks, an explosion of sound in the otherwise quiet space, jostled by somebody on the other side attempting entry, and you forget how to breathe, lungs seized by panic.

“Babydoll,” a dulcet and suave voice croons from behind the door, “be a good girl, won’t you, and let me inside?”

Recognition hits you like a wave of ice water, snuffing out your hope and leaving you a trembling mess. Everything feels so very far away all of the sudden because that voice, you’d know it anywhere–and it’s, it’s supposed to be a comfort, a reassurance of love and support, not strike terror directly into your soul. Not a siren song luring you to your doom.

“Come on now, doll.” There’s a hint of irritation now, a crack in the charming facade, followed by a harsh fist banging against the door. “Let me in or I’m going to break down this door.”

Sucking in a strangled breath, you push yourself further into the corner nook between the wall and storage cabinet, curling your limbs into a tighter ball, praying the trash cans and massive yellow cart of mops and brooms hide you from view. All you can think is please, please, please in sync with your frantic heartbeat.

The door bursts open, slamming so intensely the handle punches a hole through the wall and gets stuck there. You bite back a scream, tasting blood on your tongue. Light from the hallway pours into the closet, outlining Max in all his spine-chilling glory.

You peer at him through a sliver of a gap between the cart and cabinet, hands clammy and chest tight like your ribcage is on the verge of collapsing.

Max is bathed in blood. His gray waistcoat and white dress shirt look as if they’ve been dyed crimson, so soaked with blood the fabric grossly sticks to his torso and arms, a sickening parody of those wet t-shirt contests one of your boss’s secretaries always bragged about winning back in high school. Your eyes slowly trail up over the smeared streaks of scarlet on his neck to his chiseled face. He could pass for a younger Marcus so easily if not for the glint of fangs you see as his upper lip curls into an irritated snarl.

In comparison to Max, Dio resembles a baby lamb.

You’re terrified to breathe, to even blink and risk taking your eyes off him for a second. He hasn’t seen me, you keep thinking, desperate to keep yourself calm despite every cell in your body screaming about the danger you’re in. He hasn’t seen me, he hasn’t seen me, he hasn’t–

Max’s head slowly tilts, nostrils flaring.

You dig your nails into your palm so harshly there’s sure to be crescent shaped scars in the aftermath if you survive.

There is a moment, an impossibly long second, where Max’s gaze drifts along the closet’s contents–toilet paper bundles and garbage bags and the abundant amount of cleaning supplies–slowly, but gradually heading in your direction.

Oh no. No, no, no! Leave me alone, your mind pleads. The roaring of blood in your ears almost blocks out the sound of glass breaking from somewhere down the hallway. You flinch back against the wall reflexively when it registers, and when your eyes open up again, Max is gone.

You suck in a much needed breath of air, then slowly push yourself up on shaky legs, one hand braced on the wall. The cube is still there on the shelf when you look. You’re still unsure whether to believe Dio’s claim that the cube wants you to solve it or not. With the way it’s just sitting there, waiting for you to come pick it up, you think the damn thing could care less whether you survived this universe or not.

Creeping around the janitor cart as quietly as you can manage, you keep your eyes locked on the cube and your ears pricked for the slightest of sounds indicating Max’s return.

No matter the universe, you aren’t a fan of horror movies. You’ve never liked the gore or the jump scares, worst of all the ones involving demonic possessions where the character loses all control of themselves. At least in your universe, you had Marcus to cuddle with when the nightmares plagued your sleep.

Here, Max is the nightmare you can’t wake up from.

You don’t allow yourself to wonder what will happen to this universe’s you when you leave, if she’ll end up a corpse just like everybody else. You just keep inching forward, closer and closer to the cube.

A noise from outside–the squeak of a shoe on tile–has you freezing.

Your brain goes haywire, a hundred thoughts rising up all at once and colliding with each other, leaving you trembling in place. And through it all, the cube still sits there. Waiting for you to make a choice.

The instinct to live kicks in, white-hot and impulsive, propelling you forward in a desperate lunge to close the last foot of distance. Your fingertips brush against the gold metal a second before something tackles you from behind, crowding you against the shelf with such brute strength you can’t stop yourself from yelping upon impact, the edges of the shelf digging painfully into your torso.

Max growls, a low, pleased noise deep in his chest that vibrates through your backside from the proximity, and then the vampire’s large hands turn you around to face him. This close, you can see tiny flecks of gold in his dark eyes, reminding you of fireflies. It’s strange, the things people think of when they’re scared and seconds away from having their throats ripped out.

You inhale short, shuddered breaths through your nose, fighting not to squirm as he leans even closer, nose trailing along your jawline, still growling. His hands squeeze your hips, not tight enough to bruise but enough to warn you against attempting an escape. If you really enraged him, he could shatter bone with his enhanced strength as easily as snapping a pencil. The thought sends another bolt of paralyzing fear through your limbs.

Your frantic heartbeat skyrockets when a warm, wet tongue licks at your pulse point on your neck. Recoiling backwards, you knock your skull against the shelf hard enough you see stars.

“Oh, babydoll, my sweet tasting girl,” Max rasps, humor laced in his tone like he finds this whole situation extremely entertaining. He caresses your cheek with the backs of his fingers, fangs bared in the semblance of a smile. “I promised it’d be you and me in the end. And I always keep my promises.”

“M-Max,” you whimper, throat clogged with emotion and tongue swollen from biting it.

Eyes flick down to your mouth, pupils expanding with arousal, fireflies swallowed by blackness.

“Don’t–”

Your voice is stolen by lips smashing against yours. There’s nothing loving or gentle about the kiss. It’s a mess of sharp fangs and an insistent tongue eager to taste your blood, selfish and abrasive. Pressed against the shelf by the full weight of Max’s bulk, the small part of your mind not drowning in terror takes a chance and seizes control, instructing one hand to rake through his hair, eliciting a moan as his lips disconnect from yours with a lewd, spit slick pop.

Your other hand, uncomfortably stretching behind your back during his moment of distraction, bumps into the cube and latches onto it immediately.

“You’re one in a million, babydoll. Never met anyone who tastes like you,” Max praises, speaking against the tender skin of your neck, sucking and kissing and nipping. “You survive the change, I’m never letting you out of my sight. I promise.”

It takes a moment for your oxygen-deprived brain to understand what he means. Change? What does that–?

And then with gut-wrenching clarity, it hits you.

He wants you to become like him. A bloodsucking bastard.

Another sloppy kiss is pressed against your neck right before soft lips are replaced by pointy teeth breaking skin, a flare of pain immediately bursting from the area as blood seeps down your collarbone in rivulets.

You wail out a hoarse and agonized “No!” and then, faster than you’ve ever moved before, you wrench your arm forward and grab hold of the cube with both hands, twisting it without hesitation before he can stop you.

You arrive in the next universe with electric currents of fear still coursing through your body. You collapse onto the ground, limbs too jittery to properly hold you up, teeth clacking painfully against each other. Tears drip down your cheeks, one after another, but your hands refuse to relinquish their death-grip on the cube to wipe them away.

There’s no wound on your neck, no blood stains on your clothes. You’re in a whole new universe and yet you can still feel his lips and hot breath on your skin.

He…He almost…

You close your eyes and shake your head, fiercely cutting off that line of thought.

Never again, you make a vow to yourself. Never again will you allow any version of Brown Eyes to treat you like that. Never, ever again.

“There you are.” Your eyes fly open, looking up to lock with a pair peering down at you over the rims of sunglasses. This version of Marcus is a bit scruffier than you’re used to seeing him, curls an unruly mess, stains on his t-shirt and—is he wearing a bathrobe of all things? “Are you okay, angel?”

“I’m just dandy, Dieter.” Your reply is just a touch sardonic as you scrub away the lingering tears with your sleeve. Pushing yourself up onto your feet, you ask with a sniffle, “What’s up with you?”

“Well, since you asked.” He claps his hands together, looking at you straight on with an expression of pure hopefulness. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

You raise an eyebrow, hesitant to agree to anything until you hear the actual request.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #the infinity cube #my fic #my writing #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedrostories

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chrisevansdaughter · 10 months

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ahhhh it’s taken me sooo long but i finally thought of something for you!! but you know how scott and chris had that phase where they scared each other a bunch? well i need your thoughts on what it would be like if teen!daughter!reader was in on that!! also so excited for this whole event!!

Hey love, so I’m gonna do it as a little description type thing anyways…

At first with of course it was scary for her because she frightens easy, but once she kinda got used to it she did join in more so when Scott would do it to Chris instead of the other way round. Because with some tropes of my teen! daughter they’d be all for it like if toddler reader was the embodiment of the crazy teen reader it would be hilarious, but if it was on the other end of the “spectrum” of my characters, like Luna it would take a little bit longer for her to get used to the silly brother antics that go on behind closed doors.

Because all of the so called characters I wrote or make, are an embodiment of me at some point of my life because I never will share my story but sharing it in little snippets though my characters do help me heal to an extent so that’s why sometimes it does take me a little longer to process some requests because it take me longer to embodiment the characters with the request and then just so I don’t make them all the same as the last ask I posted because I don’t want generic stuff :(

Anyways thank you for the ask Soph! Sorry for the waffling but I’m sending so much love, and i appreciate you so much, always love seeing you pop in my notifications! 🫶🏻

#chrisevansdaughter #chris evans #chris evans daughter #chrisevansdaughter loves 💖❤️#chrisevansdaughter speaks 🫶🏻#chrisevansdaughter online 💖#chrisevansdaughter moots #chris evans x reader #chrisevansdaughter rants #chris evans x teen #chris evans x teen! reader #love luna 🥹#love soph 💖

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crestfallercanyon · 8 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

Ahhhh tea! This is so sweet of you, and I love this concept and will definitely be passing it on 😊. It’s taken me some time to truly whittle it down, but here the ones I’ve settled on. It’s based on what of my own stuff have I been going back to reread most often lately (because yes, I do read my own fics for funsies) so it’s subject to change, but here we go!

In alphabetical order:

Conflicts of Interest, The Maze Runner, Gally/Thomas

Short Summary: Thomas is a defense attorney working at the public defender's office. Gally is a prosecutor working for the district attorney. They're often against each other in the courtroom and at each other's throats, but in the spirit of "leaving work at work", they find new ways to come together.

How could this not be a fav? It was my child, my passion project, and I adore how it turned out. If there was any one fic I’m glad I put in the fandom, this one would be it.

Of All My Crimes, Teen Wolf, Derek & Allison (gen)

Short Summary: Allison and Derek become fugitives after Allison’s plot to kill Kate takes an even worse turn.

I’m thanking Clod ( @hamartian-cathexis ) for this because she was part of the initial sound boarding for this fic. It’s kind of a story I always wanted to write in some way, I just couldn’t find the right vehicle. I’m really proud of how it turned out. It’s a sad story, but kind of a fun one too.

Red Lights, They Blink Your Name, The Maze Runner, Gally/Minho

Short Summary: Gally’s going to follow that signal, even if it leads him into the dark.

It’s dark, and filled with the yearning of missing someone who you’ve never been without for so long before. It was an alternate/early on concept for Tmrss22 that got pushed aside for Aphelion, so credit to gel ( @singt0me ) for the prompt because without her I wouldn’t have made it and it is one of my favs.

Something Like Sentiment, The Maze Runner, Gally/Thomas

Short Summary: They didn't start out as endearments, but somewhere along the way, Thomas realizes there's more heart in the names Gally calls him than anything else.

I feel so bad for complaining on this one so much — I think I put on WAY too much pressure and was in a stressful time of my life, so I’m sorry clod because your prompt was beautiful and I was being angsty 😅. But now, re-reading this fic? It’s one of my fav thomally modern aus I’ve written and it’s really quite a fun read. It’s also fairly lighthearted which is rare for me lol.

Something Out of Nothing, The Flash + Legends of Tomorrow, Coldflash

Short Summary: Snart may have the cold gun pointed at Barry’s head, but Barry can see that between the two of them, Snart’s the one who’s in trouble.

I loved writing this fic. For me this is kind of like that meme “having two cakes” because the concept is not all that dissimilar to my first coldflash fic ‘getting back to fine’ but the vibe and relationship here is entirely different. Writing Len in this fic was so fun, and Barry’s mounting panic at his loose-tongued vulnerability — it is definitely one of my favs, and as a reader, I tend to re-read this one of mine for pure enjoyment purposes.

Thanks again for the ask, tea! And for those following the post, the titles should be links to the fic. This was a nice way to start the morning, so thank you ❤️❤️❤️

#ask box games!#ask box #fav fics #(for right now)#the maze runner #teen wolf #the flash cw #legends of tomorrow #writing I’ve written

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iwanttoleavethisblankbuticant · 8 months

Text

“your one sneeze away from me slapping you.”

just a lil sneeze fic cause why not. I’m open to criticism as long as it’s tips and stuff and not just putting me down. Also if I mess something up just know I’m new to all this (snz fet, writing, spelling sneezes, making OCs) so keep that in mind.

TW: cussing, alludes to arousal, sneezing of course.

“Hii~ heh… hu-hu… ahhh… ahhii.” Vex could hear several moany hitches coming from somewhere in his shared apartment. He didn’t even have to see who it is, he already knew. No one else but him had build ups like that.

Vex tried to roll over and go back to the sleep he had been so rudely awoken from. “snifff… ugh… hi’hi… haa~ ahhhh~”

there is was again. All hitches; no sneezes.

“Of fucking course” Vex grumble. “sounds more like he’s jerking off then having to sneeze.” He hisses out. Then he slings his legs over the side of his bed and stands.

Vex walks down the hall to Knox’s bedroom. He opens up Knox’s door without knocking, just barging in. “oi snot head. Just fucking sneeze. I think I rather hear the screams of small children watching ‘IT’ then here you hitch one more time.” Vex says, his voice quiet but filled with annoyance.

“learn how to knock, Vex.” Knox says, looking up at the intruder from his bed. Knox was sitting up in his bed, mouth slightly ajar, nose red.

with a thick snuffle, Knox continues. “also stop giving me so much shit. If I could sneeze, I would. But it’s stuck. And I caannnt… hii’… huuu… hi’hi…. Ugh, I can’t get this tickle to go away.”

Vex only rolls his eyes. He looks at Knox’s red, irritated nose. Snot built up at the bottom of his nostrils, a subtle twitch runs through his nose. Any other person would either be disgusted or empathetic about Knox’s situation. But not Vex, he was just peeved about being woke up in the middle of the night by Knox’s constant hitching.

Vex sighs, then ways his options. “if I help you sneeze, will it solve the problem so I can go back to sleep?” Vex asks, obviously not thrilled with the idea but wanting to go back to sleep. Knox scrubs at his itchy nose. Then nods his head. Knox what hitching hopelessly at this point. Moans and hitches are all that come from his mouth. Not a sneeze; not a word.

Vex grunts and walks over to Knox, sitting next to him on the bed. “alright snot head. Let’s get this shit over with.” Vex grumbles.

“you really c-caahhh~ can’t do one nice… hi’ heeeh… one nice thing without running it with your shitty attitude? Your such a bitch.” Knox says, annoyed. Knox is then greeted with a thump on the head as if he were nothing more then an unruly dog. This makes Knox mad, but before he can reply he’s grabbed by his chin.

Vex tilts his head upwards, getting better access to Knox’s nose. Vex was being quiet ruff with Knox, but Vex wasn’t concerned. The only thing Vex was worried about was himself and making sure he got some sleep.

vex runs a finger down the bridge of Knox’s nose. This immediately causes his nostrils to flair, his nose flushing a deeper red with the need to sneeze, anger, and embarrassment. But mostly the need to sneeze. “huh’ heee… ahh!- Ehhh, lost it.” Knox mumbles.

Vex sighs. Then rubs the bottom of Knox’s nose. This causes Knox’s eyes to water but doesn’t succeed in much more. With an even heavier sigh, Vex scratches the inside wall of Knox’s nose. Then, like gunfire, Knox snaps forward with a sneeze.

“herrrshhuuu’iw! Heshhhuuuieww!… sniifff ” Knox sneezes twice. With the complete lack of a build up, Knox didn’t get his hands up in time to cover. So he sneezed into the thing, or person, closest to him. Which happened to be Vex. A fine mist of snot covers Vex’s chest and arms. One the second sneeze, a single string of snot lands on his lower abs. Tingles shoot all through his stomach.

Vex stays completely still, taken aback. Partly because he had never expected that. And partly because he liked it.

“ehh, sorry… actually, no. Not sorry. You get that for being an asshole. If you don’t want to be sneezed on, then don’t be a bastard” Knox says.

Vex sits there for a moment longer. Then gets off his bed and walks to the door frame. He stops there just long enough to flip Knox off, then he leaves to his own room where hopefully he’ll get some sleep. And some time to search up why he’s feeling this way about being sneezed on off all things.

#snzblr #snz fic #snz kink #sneeze kink #sneezeblr #sneezefucker #sneeze blog #snz things

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cowboyhorsegirl · 2 years

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omg evren please say more about tonynat on some sort of mission where they need to fake date!! <3

@meidui, you've never known this because i have unfortunately never gotten around to answering any of your asks before, but you always send the best ones <3 I started writing this response back in May and couldn't ever figure out how to write the last scene between tony & nat, but I've taken a crack at it now in the hopes that you can enjoy this insane infodump of meta & a bit of fic before you move on to healthier and happier things :)

!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh yes gladly !!!!!!!!!!!!

(and sorry this took so long i hope you don’t mind that I wrote you a novel lmfao)

((Also I’m going to talk A LOT about IM2 but bear in mind that it's been about a decade since i've watched it so if I misconstrue anything please let me know!))

First of all, I absolutely adore Tony and Natasha separately, and I think had they been able to interact more in the MCU canon they would have served to ease each other’s insecurities and curb their more self-destructive tendencies. There’s undoubtedly a lot of parallels between their histories and their motivations for choosing to be heroes:

they’ve got a lot of red in their ledgers, so to speak

they’re trying to even out the scale of all the harm they’ve done

they place the blame of those harms squarely on their own shoulders even though they are both–to varying degrees–victims of the systems they were a part of when enacting that violence (I will say I feel this is much more true in Nat’s circumstances with the KGB than in Tony’s with the US military-industrial complex, but the case can be made for him too what with Tony’s enduring addiction and mental health issues stemming from his relationship with his father who expressly expected him to take over the company [sidebar: i would make the case that tony does not and has never liked building weapons as these are not things that he chooses to do with his engineering prowess in childhood or at MIT, and while he is leading SI he acts out in ways that in my view indicate he’s deeply unhappy with his life and is trying to numb the pain] + the way he was manipulated and ultimately almost killed multiple times by Obadiah)

traumatic medical experiences involving painful, life-changing surgeries AND loss of bodily autonomy

But! There’s also some similarities in how they try to cope with these burdens. For example, they’re both extremely competent at what they do and in a perpetual state of trying-to-prove-themselves (this tends to function more internally for nat and more externally for tony) so their default mode is often to obscure what they feel/think in most situations from everyone but an extremely select group of trusted friends as a means of concealing emotional vulnerability. They are also both prone to throwing themselves into an unhealthy work/life balance because there’s always something more they specifically could be doing to help and it seems as though neither of them can bear to forgive themselves for inaction if their involvement could have saved even one more life regardless of the personal cost.

(That last point especially *COUGH endgame COUGH*)

So in my opinion they would’ve come to be able to recognize these habits in each other at a level of familiarity that Rhodey and Pepper do for Tony or that Clint does for Natasha, but in a shorter time period. Furthermore, because they see themselves in each other, I think they’d be much more discerning over when is the appropriate time to push the other hard to treat themself better because a coping mechanism is becoming overly destructive and when they should give the other a bit more leeway because, yeah, what you’re doing right now probably isn’t the most healthy way for you to process things in the moment but I understand where you’re coming from and I know that if I try and get you to work through things too quickly or in the way i think would be best I might accidentally end up pushing you farther away. I’d rather you be overworking and/or emotionally distancing yourself in my orbit so I can be here for you when you come up for air.

I’m going to put the rest of this under the cut because i haven’t even gotten around to the point of your message lmfao (thank you so much for the ask btw !!!)

However! The crux of the issue is that, for all of their similarities and potential compatibilities, Tony and Natasha first met when Tony was dying (stressful in its own right but in Tony’s case, it specifically ties directly back to the aforementioned medical trauma + previous near-death experiences) and Natasha was undercover on behalf of SHIELD collecting intel on him for a superhero initiative that he did not know anything about and did not know he was being considered for. They don’t really get the chance to engage and interact in good faith because of the inherent nature of “Natalie’s” mission, but I think that the sources for potential long-term mistrust go a bit deeper than that superficial subterfuge.

Natasha in this situation is manipulating tony to gather information on him and denying him full control over medical decisions, and he is not privy to this prolonged, imbalanced dynamic until much later. Plus, Natasha’s own assessment of Tony is that he is not fit for the Avengers, but that Iron Man is. I feel this could be interpreted by Tony as Natasha suggesting that SHIELD reassign someone else to pilot the suit, further digging into those previous harmful thought patterns for tony that he’s only as worthy as the weaponrymachines he builds, no one values or wants him as he is, people are going to force him to relinquish his creations if he doesn’t give them up voluntarily and with a smile with the now added bonus of: this suit makes me feel like my life is worth living again and now they want to take it away from me because I’m not good enough for it.

As is, this setup makes total sense for their first meeting: Natasha is an agent and a damn good one and Tony is a very powerful man who people are regularly trying to pry information/resources/technology/expertise from by any means necessary.

The problem lies in the fact that these two are then tasked with being on an elite superhero squad where they have to place very complete trust in each other and I just don’t really see that happening without some intense heart-to-hearts about what went down in IM2. Now, as we stated before, these are two people who are very reluctant to open up and share their internal strife even with the few people they’ve developed trusting relationships with over the course of years, so I don’t imagine they would willingly offer that painful transparency to each other.

It seems that the ideal conditions for this sort of conversation to take place would call for a mission requiring only Tony and Natasha to work in an extremely close capacity with each other that involves high stakes and high emotions and in which the success of the mission lies critically in their ability to improvise off each other in order to hide in plain site using the cover of an innocuous personal entanglement.

I sense a fake dating mission!!!!!!!

(Bonus points if the context of the mission harkens back to the one or both of their previous traumas.)

So, to FINALLY get around to the point of your ask, my ideal tonynat fake dating mission would serve the primary purpose of allowing tony and nat to work through the events of IM2 and develop their friendship. This would have to involve recognizing the many similarities they share regarding their motivation to undo the violence and harm that they both wrought in their previous lives and then using that foundation of recognition to build trust and eventually camaraderie and understanding!

And because this is my personal dream tonynat fake dating mission story, the secondary purpose would be to make steve jealous and have an early-onset Feelings Realization™️and/or tony-induced Gay Awakening© because i have perpetual stevetony brain rot and I simply cannot engage with any story without figuring out a way to shove a stevetony plotline into it🤪

The time: the nebulous space after AI/IM3 but before CA:TWS.

The place: a foreign nation with a highly advanced technology sector (I’m thinking either Singapore or Japan or Germany).

The mission: identify and infiltrate a corporation that is suspected to be funneling technology and product to [INSERT VILLAIN ORGANIZATION HERE] [PROBABLY DOOM LOL].

I imagine it would start with Fury assembling the Avengers to brief them on the situation and the long and short of it is this: a weeks-long mission that will involve Tony and Natasha attending a technology expo abroad to figure out who is supplying [VILLAINS] with their tech, infiltrate their operations, gather intel, and collect evidence. There should be no reason to expect any flashy shootouts, Fury insists while leveling a one-eyed glare at Tony, but Clint and Steve will rotate 4 day surveillance shifts on the helicarrier which will be hovering nearby over international waters and Bruce and Thor will be on call in case they do need back-up.

One last thing: undercover identities. Trying to conceal Tony Stark’s identity would be like trying to sweep an elephant under a carpet–Hill has to talk quickly to cut Tony off from reminding them all again how he managed to stay under the radar in Tennessee for a week and if it’s so damn hard for him to go undercover then how come the powers that be at SHIELD couldn’t find him in Buttfuck Nowhere, USA?–but it doesn’t matter because he’ll be able to blend in effortlessly at this conference under the guise of exploring new opportunities for SI to diversify its ventures in the tech sector.

Natasha, on the other hand, will need something a bit more involved. She’ll be attending as Nadine Roman, an aspiring model and Stark’s latest conquest, Fury explains while Hill drops a file detailing the persona in front of Natasha.

At this, the energy in the room shifts a bit as Steve, Bruce, and Tony all have subtle, but undeniable reactions to this news. Bruce frowns slightly, as if trying to imagine what this scenario would even look like. Tony’s eyes slip over to Steve and his smirk falls for just a moment before snapping back into place, albeit looking a little bit more forced than before. As Steve tries to clumsily disguise his own surprised expression, he remembers seeing a story in the news recently about Tony and Pepper’s split as he had been flipping between the international news section and sports.

“So…I’m going to fake date Triple Imposter over there?” Tony finally offers into the silence.

Fury considers him for a second, and is just opening his mouth to respond when Natasha–still studying her file to get the rundown on ‘Nadine’–says “Yeah, if you can handle it,” eliciting an unapologetic snort from Clint where he sits beside her.

Cut to the actual mission, and by all appearances ‘Nadine’ and Tony are technically pulling it off with no issues. Not like it’s hard, really, Red is a literal pro at undercover operations as Tony is quite well aware of having been on the receiving end of one of them. She slips into the role of harmless arm candy flawlessly, batting her eyes and smiling coyly over her bare shoulders at egotistical corporate executives with an almost surgical precision. Her flirting and the prestige that accompanies her temporary status as Tony Stark’s companion gains her access to secret meetings and lowly-lit offices where she fades into the background, making herself known and forgotten with equal efficacy.

For his part, Tony is providing the perfect cover for Natasha to work off of. He parades her around the first day, every bit his ostentatious self to make sure everyone gets the image of her on his arm cemented in their minds. He pretends to be too tipsy to notice when his date seduces men right behind him while skillfully avoiding the drinks that keep getting shoved into his hands. He schmoozes with global industry leaders who make him want to tense his body in disgust, but he forces himself to relax, fielding unwanted touches and unearned familiarity all while trying to pry information out using his own forms of deception and sleight of hand.

It’s strange Tony thinks playing this game again. It hasn’t been all that many years since this was his real life, though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. Considering how many near-death scares he’s had in the past few years, it may as well have been several lifetimes since the last time he’s flounced around one of these conferences with some nameless darling of the night on his arm and one too many drinks in his blood and a desperation to be outside of himself, even if just for a moment, even if he had to kill himself oh-so-slowly to do it.

Oh right.

In all the madness that’s been Iron Man, the ecstasy of building something to do good for a change coupled inextricably with the immense mental toll of his recent heroics, it had been easy to let himself forget what it had felt like to live with the shackles of a duller but more persistent type of misery around his neck.

It unnerves him, too, how easy it is to slip back into this life, but he supposes he had been born and built for it. It’s practically muscle memory or an instinct hardwired into his DNA, so deeply ingrained in him he couldn’t cut out the rot no matter how badly he might want to.

Tensions build as the days pass, until one day while Natasha is off trying to uncover potential industry connections to [VILLAIN ORGANIZATION], it happens. Tony’s in the middle of a conversation that he hates about the merits of private-sector civilian surveillance. But, because he’s Tony Stark and he’s smarter than all of these sleazy business fucks put together, he finds himself dominating the discussion. And, because he’s working this goddamn mission right now, undercover in plain site, he’s arguing for it. Arguing the merits of private sector civilian surveillance.

He finishes the point he was making, met with painfully unsubtle nods of approval and he can practically see the rusty gears in the brains of his so-called contemporaries trying to figure out how quickly they can relay what Tony’s just said to their own company boards.

He knows he’s lived this exact scene at least a hundred times before at no less than a few dozen past expos. He’s never been able to observe the charade so clearly before, though.

As he’s turning away from the crowd of executives surrounding him, Tony doesn’t register that instead of sipping at the glass of water he’s been nursing all night, he’s raised it to his lips and forcefully thrown his head back to drink until his brain realizes that the burn he expected to light a path down his throat hasn’t come yet.

Muscle memory. Just like all the worst parts of him, the parts he will never be without.

Horror dawns on him as he slowly lowers his arm, and the breaths start coming fast and shallow while the cold, cold weight of hysteria begins to settle in his chest, freezing him from the inside out.

I need a drink he thinks for the first time in a long time, and that… That scares him. Because he could do it, it would be all too easy to start again here, now. Someone would no doubt be thrusting another drink innocuously into his hands soon enough because of course they would, he’s Tony Stark and Tony Goddamn Stark is a drunk. Ever since that first drink in the dark of Howard’s office when bourbon branded his mouth with its awful liquid fire and his father branded his soul with a taunt Tony never stopped repeating Stark men are made of iron Stark men are made of iron Stark men are made of iron.

The next few seconds seem to collapse and stretch simultaneously around Tony as if he has suddenly found himself suspended in the middle of a black hole. There’s a slight tremor to his hand as he sets the now empty glass down. The conversation is still moving around him: attention snaps back to him and predatory smiles greet him in excess before he’s even finished turning to face them again. A thought passes through the haze in his oxygen-starved brain that he’s about to be eaten alive, consumed whole and used up so thoroughly that there will be nothing left. It’s so asinine that for a brief instant mounting distress gives way to sharp disgust at the momentary lapse of rationality.

A light hand settles on his shoulder, and Tony’s entire body tenses under the phantom weight of a much heavier grip. Someone else used to know how to spot the onset of his little outbursts once. A friend, a desperately trusted father figure, or so he had deluded himself into thinking once because he had wanted that, had wanted anyone to notice when he was trapping himself inside his own brain again and maybe even to care enough to bring him back down to earth when he did.

Panic seizes Tony’s heart in an iron grip, and it feels like Obie’s hands inside him.

Natasha looks up at him, but he doesn’t catch the expression on her face, eyes zeroing in on the spot where he had just set his empty cup down. On the table, someone has helpfully cleared the glass and set down a complimentary martini on the corner of a napkin.

It’s all a blur of a crashing martini glass and his own breath and blood loud in his ears and his body on autopilot getting him the hell out of there because yes, yes this is bad but if he doesn’t leave now it’s going to be worse. Vodka drips down his hand as he practically runs out of the hall back to the refuge of their hotel suite and he hasn’t even thought about the consequences, the damage control until he hears Natasha’s voice light and unbothered and a second later a round of raucous laughter from the crowd he’d just had eating out of the palm of his hand and then the door slams shut behind him and all he thinks about is the path back to the hotel.

When Natasha slips into their rooms later that night, Tony doesn’t waste any time deploying his own damage control strategy, but not so he can manage appearances in front of the men waiting to pounce on him once more on the expo floor. He can’t really bring himself to care less about keeping up appearances with them, and it won’t matter after tonight, anyway.

“I’m going back to the helicarrier. I’ll be much more useful there running surveillance and the suit is always available in case you need it.”

Natasha tilts her head and raises one eyebrow pointedly as she silently considers Tony’s words for a moment.

“No.” She says firmly, with a tone that would have ended the discussion before it even began were she not talking to a man whose stubbornness was outmatched only by the magnitude of his lack of self-preservation.

“Excuse me?” There’s just the slightest edge of panic to Tony’s voice, but even that small crack is threatening to collapse the entire facade.

“I need you here. There’s no other part of this mission where you’d be more useful.”

“That really isn’t your call to make,” Tony says brusquely, getting up from where he had been sitting in their lounge and walking over to face the view of the nighttime city skyline as it shines through the massive windows.

“It’s not yours either. I wouldn’t have taken this mission if I didn’t know you could do it, Stark.”

“Why?!” Tony bursts out, expression crumbled when he spins around to meet her head-on. “What changed Natasha? Two years ago, YOU said I was a liability, so what exactly has changed?” His chest is heaving with the effort of catching a breath, eyes wild and body frozen still against the backdrop of the city lights, held captive under Natasha’s assessing gaze in a way that’s so much more restricting than even the bounds of social convention he broke to escape the expo floor an hour ago.

For a few, awful seconds, Natasha’s face is totally blank as she stares back at Tony and he wonders desperately for a moment if she’s evaluating him in real-time, if she’s writing the mission debrief in her head right now about how Tony Stark has shown himself unfit for espionage, unfit for combat, unfit for superheroics, unworthy of so much more than just the Iron Man su—

“I did.” Her voice shatters the spiral he had just begun to fall into, sympathy written in the downward tilt of her mouth and the way her eyebrows draw towards each other, wrinkling the skin between them. Tony is so abruptly, acutely aware that this is an emotion she’s choosing to let him see, but unlike the way she had laughed airily at the jokes made by the businessmen at the conference downstairs or their first interactions together when she had still been Natalie, this is not an act. The masks have all dropped.

“What?”

“ I changed. I made the wrong call about you.” She slowly makes her way over to him.

Tony breathes out an incredulous laugh, one hand coming up to rub his face. “You’re really going to try and convince me that I’m not everything you wrote in your report to Fury? After what you saw down there?” The words are quiet in the still air between them.

“What did I see? Tell me why I was right.” She raises one hand to lower his from his face, not letting it go once she does.

“Isn’t it obvious? This… all the— the schmoozing and the grandstanding and the— God, the weapons. It’s like I never even left the industry, it all comes back so easily. That’s who I am, who I was raised to be. You saw it down there, I know you did. Please don’t— don’t lie to me.” He swallows heavily around the last admission, the unspoken again echoing louder than if he had just said it.

“I don’t know,” Natasha starts, a small smile forming on her gorgeous red-painted lips. The shade matches the color of the tie Tony wore today. She had hidden a microphone in the knot before they left earlier this afternoon. “Doesn’t seem like it comes all that easily to you. I imagine we’d still be down there schmoozing and grandstanding together if it did.”

A beat of silence passes before Tony breaks into a startled grin, Natasha’s smile growing in response to his. “I always forget that making jokes is something you do,” he admits, chuckling softly.

“Looks like we’ve still got a lot to learn about each other then.”

“Guess so,” the words just shy of a whisper as he finally pulls his hand from Natasha’s gentle hold and breaks their gaze to look away.

“Tony,” she says, resting one hand on his cheek to gently guide him back. “The man on this mission? That isn’t you. Maybe it was, once, but I know it isn’t now because I see you choose to be better than him every day. To do better than him. That’s who you are: the choice you make, over and over, every day, to be better.” Her eyes flicker away for just a fraction of a second, almost imperceptibly, if Tony hadn’t been hanging on to her every word, eyes fixed on hers. “And I… I wouldn’t hold yourself responsible for the person you were raised to be.”

He takes in a shuddering breath, unsure how he found himself here without any of his social armor. How Natasha disarmed him of his usual tactics, avoidance and distraction and redirection, he isn’t quite sure. But there’s a trust he feels blossoming in his chest as she cradles his head in her hand that pushes fear at bay, and he knows he should be wary, trusting the spy, but there’s a haunted edge to her expression that makes Tony think that, for once, perhaps he isn’t the one who stands to lose the most if he falls headlong into trusting.

“It’s too much,” he admits, “pretending to be who I was. It— it reminds me of Obie, and drinking, and… it’s just a lot. A lot to deal with alone.”

The corners of her eyes wrinkle tenderly as she smiles warmly at him. “It’s an act, Tony. You know this. You’re the only person who can do it, exactly because you’ve done it before, for so long. You fooled me didn’t you?”

His lips quirk up at the quip, he imagines that he’ll never quite get over how bizarre it is to hear Natasha banter with him like this, but it doesn’t much matter as long as he gets to experience the delight of her humor again.

“And Tony?”

“Yes?”

“I promise you, you’re not alone anymore.”

—

as far as the steve b-plot goes i’m thinking that steve would initially be feeling a sort of vague discomfort that he can’t quite pin down a reason for so he eventually just decides ‘oh you know what Nat is right and i’m probably feeling lonely and should try dating again after this mission is over’. but then he starts to see tony and nat acting more and more comfortable and affectionate and intimate with each other during the expo in a way that feels…. not so fake anymore and discomfort intensifies into a weird sort of frustration and anger and ultimately he realizes it’s jealousy and he spends a few days stewing in the helicarrier watching tony dazzle natasha in front of god and probably some villains and everyone else on the expo floor and he’s like this is so weird am i jealous of tony?? I don’t like nat like that she’s a great friend but i only see her as a friend and then one day on the ninth day of his latest shift because he’s started insisting to clint that he extend his rotations (clint is very on board with this bc as far as missions go this is literally a cakewalk to him & Nat and he promptly peaces out to go raise his secret family) steve’s watching the surveillance footage of the expo and he sees tony laughing so genuinely as he and natasha demonstrate an iron man gauntlet and he’s so enamored by tony’s joy and the way he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips together into a smile because he physically can’t contain his amusement and his laugh lines deepen so beautifully and he’s like oh. OH. i’m not jealous of tony i’m jealous of NATASHA. Because she gets to make tony laugh like that and touch him and be his and it’s all for a mission of course it is but what if it isn’t?? Because steve’s never seen tony laugh like that before and that was all for natasha and cue steve-centric shenanigans as he works through his gay pining for tony stark while simultaneously convincing himself that tony and natasha are now in a real relationship and angsting over that too. i feel like this would eventually resolve itself by nat and tony somehow getting themselves in danger as they finally hone in on their target and steve has to go save them and he’s carrying a bruised and bloodied tony stark out of his makeshift prison and tony is so delirious with gratitude that he kisses steve and steve feels guilty about THAT bc even though he’s elated he’s like ‘oh naur :( tony is cheating on my best close friend natasha with me and how could i do this to her’ meanwhile natasha is completely oblivious to this whole pity party steve is throwing himself and tony has literally been asleep in a hospital bed for 17 hours and thinks he dreamed that kiss when he wakes up steve thinks he’s in a love triangle but it’s literally all in his head bc he’s an emotionally constipated idiot but damn it if he isn’t tony’s emotionally constipated idiot

#if it's all the same to you i'm going to hang on to your 1872 ask a bit longer :)#signed sealed delivered #meidui #tony stark #natasha romanoff #mcu #meta #fic!#evwrites #scribbles #tonynat #plus a dash of #stevetony #bc it's me and of course there's stevetony

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