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starzblvd · 7 months

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Hang on to Your Love

Feelings kept secret can’t stay a secret forever when other people get in the way. Fem!reader Jealous!Ellie Jackson!Ellie hint of loser!ellie purefluff CW!creep ass man makes a short appearance 5k W.C AN; Originally this was going to be a short cute story but I really wanted to give with this one, because I LOVE fall. Really sorry for being gone so long, I got a bad haircut and I swear some negative energy was clinging onto me, so it made me insane for a bit. I move on so I’m better and thriving again now though💕

Autumn was in its early days still beginning to settle into Jackson, the cooler evenings accompanied by the refreshing winds that brushed over your skin. The perfect season for a dance to be sprung onto. Flyers hung around town, you’d seen it was set outside at 7:00 a little while after the sun set four days from now. It wasn’t necessary for you to arrive with a partner for the dance, but if given the chance you already knew the perfect candidate to fill the position in mind.

Initially you wouldn’t take her to come around to these sort of events. Come to change, a few days earlier you’d coincidentally happen to over hear Ellie’s conversation with Jesse and Dina outside the Tipsy Bison. Heavy reminiscence on her last comment about the Autumn dance,

“Just because she’d be there, it won’t change anything, not interested in going. Most we’ve talked is a few passing ‘hey’s’.”

It was disheartening to hear her talk about some girl you didn’t know,

Small pieces of her life that you were able to get a glimpse of, made being around her all the less intimidating. How enamored the high skies of space Ellie was, the type of video games she’d bring back, or even the clothes she dressed in. There wasn’t much to go off of when you’ve hurt to have a complete conversation with Ellie.

Regardless Ellie was right even if it wasn’t about you, most spoken words between you weren’t much nor meaningful. If it was anyone besides Ellie you wouldn’t be mulling over so long if you should bite the bullet and ask her out. To you she was everything you’d wished for, having feelings this intense was nauseatingly tiresome. With each day that flew away sleeping on the idea of taking action to get to know Ellie, felt like opportunity slipping away just as time is. You couldn’t expect her to stay single for long, she’s dated previously what’s stopping her now?

”You and Ellie are partners this time round, good with that?”

Maria thought it’d be good to group you with a girl that knew what she was doing while doing it exceptionally well. Expect you’d hate to be such a crutch to Ellie because of the delayed training you missed out on, of sheer fear that stemmed from being sheltered too long.

”yeah, no problem.”

There wasn’t anything to have a problem with if you’d just excuse your need for Ellie. Up to this point she didn’t completely disregard your existence, small occurrences like holding out the door open made you believe she’d think of you in the slightest, enough to be polite to.

The thought of spending time with Ellie alone even with the circumstances outside of Jackson’s security was exciting to look forward to. Preselecting topics and materials to make small talk with, patrol isn’t an ideal time to get to know someone better but you’ll take what you can get in these circumstances.

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Brightly in a red marker ink circle enclosed the date of the patrol date with Ellie on the calendar pinned above your nightstand, marked day being today. Dressing up particularly cute wouldn’t do good in terms of practicality, but you had other reasons for dressing so. You weren’t naive of the terrors waiting, lurking, outside of Jackson’s walls just as anyone else was. Your choice of outfit for today were bootcut jeans with ribbons shaped into dainty bows tied to the belt loops. A ribbed long sleeved top in a solid color of brown, the bottom of the sleeves were flared out while the rest of the shirt stayed close in a snug fit.

Maybe you had arrived earlier than settled on, surely, because Ellie was starting to become a no show. Perked up right besides the stables doorframe, facing towards the inside, counting the minutes go by. Dina’s distant voice broke the fluid count of time you’d been mentally ticking by. Anyone would’ve been able to tell she was being so quiet intentionally with her hushed tone while speaking to someone else. You weren’t meant to hear her nor the words of advice she was aiding, but you couldn’t help being a standby could you?

“She’s been waiting for you in there for a while now! Seriously, you can’t stall any longer without being suspicious.” Dina knew exactly what this was about, Ellie’s whole unwillingness to go out on patrol with you was painfully obviously.

“I know I know, but I just need a bit longer and I’ll get right to-“ hearing the detest Ellie was expressing felt disappointing in a way that made your heart ache.

“No, Ellie. Go over there already, standing over here isn’t going to change anything.”

Ellie’s sigh was louder than their entire conversation. Then the words you were hearing so clearly became tedious whispers that had you leaning closer to decipher, with no luck as to knowing which one was speaking.

They couldn’t possibly know you were listening in, right?

Calm anticipation couldn’t overcome the hurdle of sudden nervousness when footsteps became closer. Thing was, you knew Ellie’s footsteps and the approaching steps didn’t belong to her. You’d turned back to face outside though not to Ellie, but to Dina’s consoling face.

”Ellie’s caught something and she’s stuck sick at home right now,”

it was all crap, every single word. Seeming so against you that she couldn’t stand having to go on patrol with you, Ellie lied about sickness as a get a way. Standing there silently to question every short moment you’ve encountered her, trying to recount if you did or said something wrong to ward her off so strongly.

“Oh well, that’s okay. Tell her I said to get better soon.”

You didn’t mean the condolence, the small smile you responded Dina with didn’t help in hiding that fact. Especially not when Ellie was probably snug inside by now spending her new found time freely, relived of being able to opt out so suddenly. This was by far the most embarrassing stand up you’ve been able to experience, as much as you didn’t want to be affected by her flakiness it irked you just as much if not more in efforts of trying to shrug it off.

Dina nodded and excused herself first, at least she was aware how childish Ellie was handling the situation. At times like these it was so easy to be jealous of Dina, how close her bond with Ellie was. Being able to spend time with Ellie by watching movies or just having her as company were few of those reasons. Though you were never mad at her for it. More so at yourself for letting your feelings keep you from making any move.

When Dina was out of view from where you stood, you followed out feeling defeated. The marked calendar felt like such a foolish thing to do, how excited you became when you could tick off another day, getting closer to the patrol.

It was debatable if the walk back home to the mess that was an outcome of frantically scrambling to figure out your outfit, or waiting so excited like a hopeless lovesick fool was more embarrassing. Had you kept to your own business you would’ve been able to cope in ignorant bliss, unaware of Ellie’s determination to avoid you. Crushing any unfortunate leaf that happened to be in your way on the ground with heavy steps was the best you could do to express how upset this made you.

Of course she had no obligation to happily spend her time with you, but the extent of Ellie’s actions was doing more than enough to prove her dislike. Reflecting just on today, it was evident you’d have to settle for a new dance partner.

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Ellie groaned into her pillow when she heard extensive loud knocking, already knowing who it was and why it was for. You were right about Ellie being snug inside, leisurely painting on the floor beside the short coffee table, using the time she was meant to be with you to practice a hobby.

If it was possible, Ellie would have prolonged opening the door to her garage room to escape Dina going off on her. She rubbed her eyes using her thumb and index finger, this was punishment for not dealing with you today, rather she’d have to deal with Dina’s confrontational lecture. Right upon unlocking the door Dina began,

“Seriously Ellie, what’s gotten into you.” She’d allowed herself inside, taking her designated spot on the couch. Looking down onto the table, there sprawled out next to different paints in jars and a messy paint pallet was a painting Ellie was spending careful time to finish. It looked more detailed than any of her previous paintings, paint strokes still wet from recent application creating the girl on the canvas.

“Hey I dodged a bullet by doing that, I wouldn’t have been able to put in all my concentration,” now it was Ellie’s turn to be embarrassed.

Her skills were truly ones to be boasted about, but faltered the moment she was stuck partnered on patrol with a pretty girl. The girl she’s kept her eyes on from the first day of her arrival.

Of course Ellie made a distinct entry that day, made sure to not leave any detail out about your appearance or the way you’d greet others that day, including her. Describing just how sweet everything about you was, so sweet it distracted from what you told her, she’d failed to listen to the first words between you two.

Now it was acting all tough until the moment Ellie’s emotions become overwhelming, clouding both her judgment and competence. She knew exactly what she felt, but tried with everything to disregard it all because of the fear that rejection would hurt much more sourly than never confessing at all.

”Don’t start now, she looked hurt when I broke it to her that you’d called out sick.”

“Maybe she was looking forward to exploring around or something-“

“No Ellie, she was excited to see you.”

The sheer question if you looked at her back with the same feelings sent Ellie over the edge. She kicked up her foot, cracking the knuckles of her fingers one by one. How much time has passed and your relationship with Ellie hasn’t progressed at all? She’d be lucky to even call it a relationship, small talk was a hard thing since the first years of you being in Jackson.

”yeah well, you don’t know that for sure.”

Ellie slumped her back onto the bed looking up at the wooden ceiling, the position she should’ve been if she was truly sick. Dina couldn’t bother to deal with Ellie’s stubbornness when the topic was you specifically. Because she knew Ellie was almost helpless when it came to you.

Exhausted from the topic of you by how much denial and stubbornness it’d be met with, Dina propped herself up from the couch before looking over at Ellie, spitefully replying to her small attitude,

“Oh I think I know, at least come by the dance go say hi.”

Upon Dina walking out and shutting the door Ellie kept her spot, the stunt she just pulled probably set her way back in means of getting more familiar with you. Letting out a low groan again, it was hard to decide to show up. Seeing you would only have her ridden with guilt. Ellie didn’t know to believe Dina’s beliefs or not. She was hopeful, but failed to be certain.

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Staring straight forward into your own reflection in the vanity was where your mind couldn’t rest on the long debate that was if going to the dance was still a good idea. Held up in knots going over each pro and con there could’ve possibly been, you’d already spent the time perfecting the look for tonight. Only to feel hesitant, and it was all Ellie’s fault. The few days after the incident, it was completely insufferable to face or hear any news about Ellie. Each time it would only make the feelings of embarrassment mixed with bitter defeat resurface.

“She shouldn’t be showing up anyways.”

Is what got you to settle on going out with the prerogative to have a little fun, determined to not let your crushed feelings take away from a good time. After all the wait for the dance it would be a spoil of time to stay in.

Because the party was outside people were more sprawled out, making it harder to see every single person attending. High hanging warm lights were strung from building to building in a zigzag pattern, they illuminated the incoming night that was creeping up. A table took space in the middle in front of everything, each spot of the table being covered with some sort of food or drink, leaned up on it’s ledges was Jesse and Dina talking to Joel.

Joel looked rough on the exterior with the way he would carry himself, but truly was a kind type at heart. You’d only gotten a few chances to chat with him, a little less than with Ellie. He’d only remind you of Ellie with how close they are, so you set it in your mind to clearly stay away from all three of them for the rest of the night.

A few speakers were synced together playing Sades Hang on to your love, just standing there cemented lost and doe eyed would do you no good. Staying home inside the comfort of your room would have been preferable, thinking maybe it would’ve looked a bit awkward to dance alone. Maybe you could ask one of the girls there you were friends with, amidst the cloud of thought a man invitingly lent out a hand. You’d seen him around a few times, wearing dark navy jeans and a black sueded cowboy hat, you accepted thinking you had nothing to lose.

In heaven’s name, why are you walking away?

Dancing with him was purely for fun, no strings attached to you, but for him, his eyes spoke that he was in it for something. Letting his hands cling to the sleeves of your shirt, his touch was a little irritating. Already starting to regret your choice to agree to dance, more specifically with a man. You tried to disregard the slight discomfort and continued to move along with his moves to at least entertain yourself by dancing. By now, the man’s hands on your arms begun steering you right to the center of the dance floor, which essentially was just an open dirt plot right in-front a certain table.

Hang on to your love

In a few footsteps he’d successfully made it close to unbearable for you to dance along now that you’ve made it to the prime viewing spot for everyone in the surrounding crowd. Uncomfortable with both his handling and everyones eyes set on the show he was making out of this. Of course in that crowd she had to be stood against there to that table, in those jeans that were starting to scuff from continued wear and fading flannel. Using quick stolen glimpses to catch the sight of Ellie when he’d spun you round.

In heaven’s name, why do you plays these games?

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide how distressed you were. Urgently wanting to escape only to bolt it back to your home. You were heating up because you knew by now, Ellie had been staring directly at you, visibly displaying exactly how unhappy she was with the situation. Crossed arms and legs, eyebrows dipping into a slight angry arch. Ellie was whispering something over to her right hand man, Jesse.

“Out of everyone here, why are they dance partners? It’s not like they know each other.”

“And you know that how?”

Ellie’s appearance at the dance was meant to solely be a quick passing, is what she swore to herself at least. Getting caught up in being witness to whatever you were found doing with that man had sidetracked her. Ellie knew from his stares he had intentions outside of having fun, nothing could be lead to coincidence with him especially. Ellie was aware of his reputation of going through plenty of women in short periods of time, immediately latching onto someone new after the last.

“Doesn’t matter, either way I can’t stop her.”

“How about getting over there and steal her back, or are you still hung up?”

Take your time if the going gets rough

The grip he had on you got tighter, he tried pressing his body further to yours by making a his hand placement lower to your hips. Every move he continued to act on making you all the more irritated. None of this is what you wanted, and Ellie’s stare only added fuel to fire. She didn’t want to go out on patrol together with you the previous day, why is she out of all people dishing out the judgmental looks?

so if you want it to get stronger you’d better no let go

“Your guess is as good as mine, I just can’t, be near her like that.”

For every thing Ellie wished she could do and say, is another longing stare of hers that graced you. Blaming the fear to approach you on the nausea effect that didn’t budge no matter what you tended to have on her.

“you’re not getting anywhere staring all crazy at her.”

Eventually the man had noticed how absent minded from the situation you were in, with your eyes glued straight past him clasped in his arms. Speaking up for the first time, some sparse voice pulled you back into the moment.

“Who’s got you distracted huh?”

hold tight, don’t fight

“Nothing, I was just zoning out a bit.”

He didn’t buy it, he reclined his torso back and away, allowing for an easier spin on his heel to see who had you so entranced just now.

”Oh come on not that dyke that came from wherever with her old man.”

Instantly he let go away, recoiling away immediately. His face had contorted into a disgusted expression directed at the both of you, Ellie for knowing and being Ellie and you for simply looking at Ellie.

“Men can’t get no breaks in this world.” A thick mouthful of saliva was spat onto the dirt next to your feet leaving from the center having you deserted there alone. A few surrounding people looked shocked looked at what had unraveled there while others looked away.

Hang on to your love

Ellie stayed put in her same spot, deciding it was better now or never to take your chances. Possessing feelings that felt too similar to love, only to hush and silence them away each night wasn’t getting any easier. Ellie’s eyes darted away the moment she saw you beginning to walk right over to her.

in heaven’s name, why are you walking away?

”Why didn’t you show up to patrol with me that day? I know you weren’t sick so don’t even use that excuse.”

Confrontation wasn’t your usual way of dealing with things, but the time spent conflicted as to feel about Ellie wore on you. One day you were swearing there was a chance for things to be mutual, only to change your mind the next.

“I don’t know where you’re getting at because I was sick.” To Ellie it was clear now that you heard everything she told Dina outside the stable.

“I heard you outside whispering you know, honestly Ellie what do you have against me?”

“Nothing! Look I did ask for her to cover for me, but it’s only cause I had something to do at home.” She slid her thumbs to hang out from the front pockets changing her stance to loosen.

”what we’re you so busy with?” You didn’t mean to come off as stern as you did, from then on Ellie started to sound less confident with each word that would come out her mouth.

”Something back in my room, it’s noth-“

“Let’s go see it then.”

Right then you start walking straight to her room, picking up your pace when Ellie called out your name behind you. You knew where she stayed at, catching her with Dina and Jesse walking in and out of the small shed that sat off to the left of the main house on a few occasions. Initially she didn’t believe you were serious, so she waited a while longer before starting to walk as well. Ellie caught up quickly but you were faster, sprinting closer to the door illuminated by the hanging light besides it.

Once you’d got ahold of the doorknob it easily opened to your luck, it was typical in Jackson to leave doors open because how people trusted one another as a community. Immediately you slammed the door shut upon putting two steps inside to Ellie’s room. With a quick click it had been locked to make sure she stayed out while you got to the bottom of this.

On the other side Ellie banged on the door with her whole palm repeatedly,

“Hey get the hell out!”

“I’m trying to see what was so important you had to ditch me and not tell me anything about it.”

”I’m sorry okay? I promise next time I won’t run out on you like that.”

She was basically pleading by now aware that you had the upper hand, you had every power to leisurely look through her whole life that was stored in her room. Standing there felt childish now that you’d caught your breath leaving you time to reflect what happened and what you did. Ellie ran over to the side of the shed to where the windows were, she put her hands up to the glass scanning the room for you,

“if you let me in now I’ll show you, I swear.”

She sounded sincere in her soft tone, rummaging Ellies room wouldn’t be right regardless how upset you were so you nodded and unlocked the door for her. Moving aside to give her space to walk in. Mumbling getting through she spoke again,

“Let me go grab it, it’s over by the coffee table.”

Now that everything calmed you could properly look around to see how Ellie’s room looked. The type of posters hung from the walls, above an unmade bed a cork board pinned photos of her friends and drawings adorned it. It was a little confusing why Ellie wasn’t mad or screaming for you to get out. It was pretty quiet in the small room, only a small faint strain of music from the party was keeping it from dead silence. The air was thick, closing in on the both of you.

“I would’ve showed you it if you asked without having to lock me out you know.” Ellie was still turned away from you, holding onto a medium sized board that she picked up from the rug. A few paintbrushes were drying on a towel next to the glass jar of murky grey water.

“No you wouldn’t,” lightheartedly you laughed trying to ease your nerves that arose from being alone with her away from anyone else.

“yeah,” returning a small laugh she turned to you, time felt slow in this moment as if everything itself was prolonged outside the rules of time with Ellie’s footsteps slowly approaching. Her laughter alleviated some of the tension the air carried.

Ellie didn’t say anything at first, she let you see what turned out to be canvas with you painted sitting down reading a book, propping your head up with your left arm on your knee with the book tucked into your lap. Never would have you guessed Ellie taken long enough to look at you long enough to get the amount of details she’d painted so perfectly. That’s exactly what you’d describe the painting her hands created, perfect.

“Ellie..” Lost in the soft colors that were painted into you, you were for certain on how you felt about Ellie.

With lack of response she was quick to defensively speak up, “You just looked like a good reference, I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything-“

“it’s beautiful,”

You were unsure what to say or even do, Ellie stood there looking back at you under your jurisdiction continuing to wait on you. She’d hate to admit what she was so scared about your reaction or rejection, because it was only then that the feelings would sink to only decay inside the pit of her stomach to linger. “Thanks,” Ellie’s composure was gone, visible by how nervous her smile looked. Considering how she took the effort to paint you, it was time to do something that had been long overdue. Putting down the painting to lean on itself against the wall freeing your hands, you find them a new place on Ellie’s shoulders. Slightly towering above you with her height, being able to see her up close in such a tender hold felt like a sweet of blessing.

”When I saw you for the first time I knew it was going to be you, and it has been since then.”

Ellie’s eyebrows cinched together in confusion unaware of the weight your words held.

”it’s been only you, nobody else has ever came close, because I like you the most.”

Ellies lips gapped open ready to let out to spill her unspoken words upon fully processing what you meant. She had wished to tell you that accumulated over time, except they only came out in silence.

Hearing your confession to her, was her own sweetest blessing. Instead of staying silent any longer Ellie let her actions talk for her, plunging right into a kiss. The muscles in her lips kneaded at your own desperately like to makeup for every kiss that was missed in the time that you could’ve spent together before today. Each passing day she could’ve only yearned to feel you as intimately as tonight. This was felt in the way she was making out with you now.

Leaning further into the kisses to savor the taste and smell you carried, and sure enough you were the same way, pushing further into her too. A strand of hair slipping out from the ear Ellie tucked behind tickled the side of your face.

Gasping for air after the both of you’d succumb to shortness of breath. Ellie’s lips were a softer shade of pink from the circulating blood by how much pressure she had used to press onto your lips. Before you could Interject again she plunged back into you, this time her trembling hands cupping the plush of your cheeks, which then stabilized themselves on you. you didn’t resist Ellie’s lips, rather you moved at the same rate. Her left hands fingertips slightly callused by the guitar Joel had gifted. Each kiss was passionate, becoming more sloppier and quicker paced than the last one.

Nothing else mattered here against the warmth that radiated from Ellie, her pulsing heartbeat was felt by your own chest. Through flesh and bone, you could’ve sworn your hearts could feel the love you both shared for each other. You knew perfectly in your mind that this was meant to be, and Ellie had loved you ever since you fell too.

Ellie gently pulled away to whisper in that hoarse soft voice, “This better than dancing with him?”

She sounded so tantalizing, having you in her hands all to herself. No one would ever be able to have you the way Ellie did, and for that she felt prouder than ever. The doubt for any connection that could’ve been there in the days and years prior to today, was overcast by Ellie’s pure bliss right now.

You smiled while pressing foreheads together, letting the air from Ellie’s breathing fall onto your face. Chests falling up and down in a few seconds of quietness before replying, “Better than you could ever know.”

“Oh I think I do know,” squeezing you tighter followed smaller frantic kisses below your eyes, between your eyebrows, and cheek. You reflected her actions onto each bronze or dark brown freckle Ellie had scattered across her face.

Finishing, Ellie pulled you to walk to her bed by her hands connected behind your neck, bringing you down top of her on the spring mattress. Cheeks lifting up to reveal smile lines that you managed to bring out so easily. You held yourself up by your forearms with Ellie sandwiched in between. A warm lit lamp and the small slips of light from the dance in the distance outside were the only forms of light source in the room. Night had casted over the sky, and the moon coating the world below in moonlight. Once a few seconds passed of enjoying the others presence by staring at each and every feature as to memorize them forever like a keepsake, Ellie cleared her throat to speak up.

”I want to be with you, properly this time I mean,” Ellie gazed right into your eyes endearingly beneath you. Her proper confession was in a form of a question you’ve been waiting on so eagerly for so long.

“I’d love that.”

Placing a small peck right on the tip of her nose, you laid down on her, letting your head fall to her heart. This moment would be the mark of something new, a new chapter in your lives. Not another person or soul could take this away from either of you, love continuing to grow deeper into your hearts.

#ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie fluff #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #tlou part 2

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vinylhazza · 3 years

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For Keeps (G.D)

Summary: Jesse knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it, or rather demand it. Grayson, who carries respect and dignity like a shield of armor, walks the line of being the vanilla boyfriend he always thought she’d want, or the guy that listens to the devil on his shoulder and embellishes on the fantasies that won’t leave him alone every night. There is a first for everything, a time and place to try something -- or some one new. There is a chance to set the fire in motion. He might just take it.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: Strong sexual content, giving head, fingering, spitting, explicit language

There is a first for everything.

The first time you ride a bike, the first time you try your favorite food, the first time you win an award, the first time you hear your favorite song, the first time you talk to the person you’re meant to spend the rest of forever with, the first time you overcome your worst fear, the first time you read your favorite book, the first time you travel to a different country, the first time you have thoughts that should damn you for eternity and for some...there is even a first time for eating pussy.

It’s an embarrassment he’d never wanted anyone to discover let alone put to the test. Sure his friends had their time to talk about their extensive knowledge on female anatomy, but whenever the topic of him and Jesse doing anything outside the box he himself had placed them in, his lips were sealed. For one thing it wasn’t their business, for two he’s not entirely sure what he would say. He knew the time would come. He didn’t view their relationship like a race and he knew Jesse didn’t either. They’d been friends for too long and knew each other too well for him to base their relationship off of sex.

Grayson keeps his eyes glued to his hands holding Jesse’s hips tight -- unsure of what to do now that he’s got her beneath him and wanting him to have his way with her. He knows what he wants, but doubts that he has the courage to pursue it within him. He’d watch her with careful eyes as she peeled off each article of clothing before pulling him close by his belt loop and on to the bed to kiss her rough busy day away. A picnic was nice, but his complete and undivided attention was better. Even if his eyes trailing up and down every part of her body made her nervous.

He’d done plenty of things with his ex before Jesse, but none of those things had involved his lips and tongue anywhere beneath the waist. Not anything like he’s inevitably about to do.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Jesse had snickered minutes ago, a sly smirk lacing up her ruby red lips from so much kissing -- moment’s before he’d gotten them both all hot and bothered. He couldn’t help it when he was with her, his self control falters and he’s drunk off her touch once again, swimming in a pool of despair he can’t control. All he can think about is her. Wanting her. Needing her. Touching every single inch of her velvety skin. Wanting to do things to her. Wanting her to do things to him. Things he would blush at in the future.

Jesse was a woman with desires he’d only dreamed of women having. She was shy at times but the devil danced in her bright eyes. Grayson knew she wanted things she’d never had the guts to say out loud and things she only wanted from him alone. It all made him a fierce kind of nervous, but gave him an electrified thrill. A challenge for him to explore the workings of her body and all the ways he can make her more satisfied than she’s ever been. He didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon - and if he wanted to do her right, he had to go outside of his comfort zone for her.

Knowing Jesse was more experienced did things to him that he couldn’t begin to hide -- but more than anything it made him jealous of every set of hands that had ever touched her skin before his. It made him reckless and competitive, focused and haughty. He was better than them, he could be better than them.

He could rapture her into a whirlwind of pleasure that would ruin her image of every man except him, wanting no one's mouth but his, daydream of no one’s lips but his own, beg for no one else’s touch, want no one else’s hands but the ones holding her now. It wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about his pleasure for once, it was truly all about her.

Pulling him back into the flames, he’s burning up under her intense stare, waiting for him to do something, do anything. Anything but watch her long enough to find something less than stellar, less than grand, less than exceptional. With her fears unfolding she pulls him down for a kiss of her own, a soft feather of a thing he can feel all the way to his toes. She’d always been good at that, giving him more to miss when she’s away. The way she hugs him close is one of those things.

Grayson fell hard into love—which wasn’t particularly unusual for the hopeless romantic he was, but he always knew Jesse was set apart from the seasonal heartthrobs. He was truly bewitched by her creativity, wanderlust, unapologetic confidence, patience, and beauty.

An enchantress she was, beautiful beyond anything he could ever deserve. Drop dead gorgeous with the personality to match, there wasn’t a head that didn’t turn when she walked into a room, not a man that didn’t fumble over their words at any opportunity to talk to her, not a woman who didn’t want to be her friend. Sure her beauty was undeniable, but her benevolent heart beat it all.

He may never know why Jesse had leaned in to kiss him seven months ago save for three days in a hidden corner in Café Verona -- a quaint treasure he’d always hold dear to his heart. Fairy lights criss-crossed along the ceiling, soft Jazz waltzing with the beat of his heart, emerald green leather bench pressing into his thighs. But he’s glad she did. He’s glad she leaned in to kiss him when he’d been building up the nerve for weeks. So afraid to go there but more afraid of not knowing what would happen if he didn’t. He’s glad she took his chin in between her fingers to hold him still enough to feel her lips press to his securely, a warmth swarming in his chest where the heart shaped hole once was.

If he flipped through the pages of his memory, he would remember a statue-like stillness about him before he sunk into her touch, caging her head in his large careful hands. Feeling the gasp she tried to hide, the smell of grapefruit shampoo and the way her flushed cheeks felt under his stroking thumbs. He would see himself fall into her, around her and through her, off the edge of the rocky cliff and into the dark blissful deep of nothing but her.

He’d be eternally grateful she looked at him with utmost sincerity and whispered with a raw kind of intensity that he’d “driven her mad you see” -- and he’d heard it then, the brittleness of her voice because fear rattles her to the core, and she had been scared out of her mind. A crack that tracked through her careful confession and to the root of him. Jesse was scared of what he meant, what he was in terms of her heart, what he could be if she continued to kiss him the way she was.

In that quiet moment he remembered what made her so deeply rooted in his heart: the laugh that rattled him, the soft smell of peaches and vanilla, the way she never drives without sunglasses because her mom who passed away much too early did the same, the dance she does when she finally eats the first bite of food after damn near breaking the world in half in hanger, the way she punches the roof of her car after making it through a yellow light because her best friend in high school did the same, the way she always turns her spoon upside down when eating ice cream, and the way she always has answers for everything no matter what topic, even the way she laughs entirely too hard at Family Feud.

For that reason alone he waited for the physical parts to come when they may. It was new and exciting sure, and he’d always loved her heart of course, but her body was uncharted territory. He was patient, yes. A gentleman guarding some assumed virtue, even if he knew better than to think she was anything but a seductress. Patient enough to tell her no when she’s had one too many drinks and not enough discipline. They’d been friends before anything else - the best of friends with a foundation of trust. He’s spent years trying to gain that trust and he vowed to keep it.

Of course he could have been that guy on many occasions: possessive, selfish, greedy and crude. He could have played his cards and dealt his dirty hand at the wrong moment and still pulled out ahead. I mean hell, how often do guys get out of the friend-zone? But he wasn’t that guy. No matter the relationship status — they weren’t ready.

They hadn’t been ready to cross that carefully drawn line in the sand, not until now. With the strawberry White Barn candle burning in the corner on the cluttered desk one could expect from a college student and a half full can of Arizona tea on the night stand...her face lit with a mystical kind of magic he’d only ever seen the day she leaned back after their first official kiss.

“Hold my hair.”

Grayson found the words slipping off his tongue easier than they’d come all night. All he’s planned on was a simple date in the park that was tucked away and secluded from all the people that could interrupt, he’d even brought her favorite book and laid back on a soft patch of grass to listen to her melodic voice read to him. He’d planned to come back and share a peck or two while watching a new episode of Daredevil and holding her through the night. She’d had a long day full of texts to him, trying to get him to give her the okay to walk out of her low-paying job and not look back. He never planned on laying her down on his bed and caressing every inch of her skin until he was finally delving into a place he’d never been quite like this.

He was nervous but he could do anything, be anything with her hand in his hair and her kind eyes watching him defile her. He just knew from this moment on he would have a reputation to uphold, as cocky as it sounded. He had to prove he wasn’t as lost as he felt. He felt like a virgin all over again, like he was doing something raw and real and scary. A secret only the wrinkled sheets would remind him of later.

Her touch, her soothing him through something that frightened him has always been a crutch for him to lean on. When he got in a fight with his brother, she was there to comb through his hair and talk him through the proper apology, when he decided to change majors and had a breakdown so crippling he couldn’t breathe she rocked him through it until his breath was even once again, when he wrecked his new car on the way home from a party he never should have been at she was right there to give him a kiss on the cheek and help him call the insurance company and his erratic mother who loved her like a daughter. She led him through the rough parts of life and then some.

He never imagined she would be leading him through something so sensual, but he needed her bringing him back to earth all the same.

Jesse obliged with a grin of her own, feeling him shuffle down to trail a string of kisses across her torso and down to the base of her need and desire. The fireball of want burned in her stomach, turning her rational thoughts brown and charred. He was good at that, making her need him fiercely. She’d never wanted anyone so much, and even if she thinks back to past flings - she’d never been satisfied like she was with Grayson, and they’d done much less.

“What are you thinking?” Jesse wonders, distracted by his soft supple lips and his nibbling at her hip, but wanting to hear the inner workings of his brain. Her fingers fidget, wanting to push him by his brown mop of hair down lower - just to feel him at last. She needed this distraction, she just needed his help to forget. Not that she hadn’t been waiting for months for this exact moment, there was just urgency in the way she’s stripped herself bare before him.

She almost expects him to wait for her direction, but jerks against him when he takes the lead all on his own. How could he not with her as his complete mercy, giving him the fuck me eyes and twisting a lock if hair around her finger?

Grayson thinks on that as he trails his mouth down, down, down to slick his tongue up the base of her, smirking to himself when she wiggles against him. “I’m thinking that I like you this way.”

The contact was a shock to her nervous system and a promise of what was soon to come if she kept tempting him the way she was. She was a heathen with angel eyes. Someone infatuated with his innocence (at least he was more innocent than she) and curiosity to learn every curve and dip of her body. He made her feel powerful, unstoppable, undeniable. She craved it as much as he craved her own lips tracking across his skin - in the heat of the moment or in the still of the night.

“Naked you mean?” She laughs then, trying to keep herself at least somewhat under control now that he’s grown some balls and taken the first step. She’s shocked momentarily that she didn’t have to practically order him into touching her.

She grips her breasts at another bold swipe of his tongue. Rolling her hardened nipples between her fingers and tensing at the sparks flying up her center. The feeling of him spreading her open, blowing against her throbbing clit is almost too much to bear. Jesse curses then, a soft “fuck” she tries to reel back before he gets too big of a head. She knows it fell on eager ears when he delivers another bold stripe of his tongue up her center -- slow and deliberate.

“Unguarded,” he finally grumbles, rubbing away the goosebumps that pepper her thighs. She thinks for a moment that she could gave turned off the ceiling fan circling over top of them, but feared she might burn up if it wasn’t for the white blades blowing on her crown of hair going every which way on the pillow.

She ignores how right he is - that she’s never been this vulnerable with him before, but instead rolls her eyelids shut to feel him really delve into her - opening his mouth and pressing his tongue to her flat. This is just what she needed, her favorite person trying something new and succeeding at it.

For someone that’s never given head, he was pulling it off. He was going to ruin her.

Glancing down at the yellow glow of the lamp illuminating the right side of his face, Jesse curled her fingers into his plush head of hair once again, somewhere between heaven and hell with no real knowledge of the difference.

She moans at his lips wrapping around her, the suction to her lower region and the way his thumbs dig into her skin to hold her in place. No running this time, she had no choice but to feel it all. This is what she wanted right?

“This feel okay?” he teases, tentatively trailing the tip of his tongue around the place she wanted most. He loved to see her eyes alight with that devilish incomprehensible lust. He was truly winging it, doing anything he’d heard from friends or watched himself late at night, anything to further her soft pants and moans tumbling out of her O shaped mouth. She was too good to be true and felt like one lucky bastard.

Nodding down to him she groans, wanting him latched to her. “M-more than okay just keep going.”

He never knew it could feel so pleasurable to be the giver and not the receiver nine times out of ten. He didn’t know how selfish he’d been and the opportunities he'd missed to feel compliant and...obedient. He liked it. He loved it. He loved the position he was in - her looking down at him like the goddess she was and always had been, him crouching down at the end of the bed to devour her in the best way he could, his hair disheveled, eyes dark with hunger, hands gripping her tight.

He lets instinct take the wheel, peppering kisses to her clit and bringing his own hand down to slip in a finger to add extra stimulation - pleased when Jesse releases another string of curses. Fowl language huh? Wonder what she’d do if he stopped-

“You’re such a dick-“ she tugs at his roots, rolling her hips into his mouth that savors her now, lips slick with her wetness. She tasted good, he’d concluded. It wasn’t anything like what he imagined it would be, no, it was better. It felt better than all of the horror stories he’d made up in his head. He’s sure if he wanted to - he could stay right down between her legs for hours -- until his lips were sore and his tongue tired. Stopping wasn’t an option. Not when she’s been waiting so long, fantasized too often. She huffs out again “Thought you’ve never done this before.”

That must be a good sign, right?

“Never,” he slurps at her, shaking his head and groaning into her core. He felt the slickness of her on his cheeks now. Bowing down to eat her out was harder than it looked, especially with back problems as it was.

Focused and drunk on Jesse’s gentle hip thrust into his mouth he hugs her thighs and stands upright, just off the edge of the bed, bringing her lower half up in the air with him. He can feel her trembling now, wide eyes gleaming at him with surprise and delight at the new and better position.

She was losing it. She’d had him compliant at first, her soft-hearted boyfriend trying something new...but damn he was tugging the ropes from between her fingers and leading her to a path less traveled. Quick learner he was.

“Grayson put me down! Have you lost your mind?” Jesse squealed, grinning at his closed eyes and moving lips, deaf to her antics. She was expected something quick, maybe even simple, but him switching up positions was not in the game plan as great as it was.

She could see it now, the guy that was always hiding just beneath the surface. She could see how her sounds urged him on and made him try harder. She could see his arms shaking from the weight of her legs and the effort it took to hold her pussy as close to him as he could. She could feel the heavy breath fanning out across her pelvis from his nose. She could feel the tickle of his hair dangling down and whispering across the skin of her stomach. She could feel that same ball of fire seated in her stomach slip lower and lower with each passing second - until the words that fell out of her mouth were nothing but strings of profanity would make a sinner blush.

It was going to sear her in half, that fucking ball of fire. Hot lava stirring up a flood she couldn’t stop. It was splitting her in half just as his digits were now, pumping into her hard and fast, curling at his knuckles. His rings gleam from the yellow lamp-light and shock her when they touch her dewy skin. She had lost all sense of control.

Hearing his own moans, hearing how desperate he was to keep eating her pussy and make her feel better than anyone had, got her inching towards the edge. It was a low kind of growl itching at his throat.

The taste of her blurred his senses, the soft smell of her making his mind spin out of control, the tightening walls of her cunt around his fingers fucking her fast, the light sheen of sweat that glowed in the dim light of his room - he was a madman with no direction but forward. He had to keep going, for stopping would surely break them both. He would love to tease her, but knew if he stopped one more time she would kill him in a heartbeat.

“Open your fucking eyes and watch me.” He barked down to her, stopping only for a moment to glare at her. His fingers continued their fast paced in and out, in and out, in and out.

He’d figured if he was going to take it all the way, he needed to pull every string. Needed to pull out the nasty daydreams and make them a reality. This is something he would have for keeps. Something he’d want to do over and over, something he couldn’t wait to do again. Something he’d want to remember.

Peeling her eyes open she sobbed at the sight of him spitting into her pussy with a smile, staring at her darkly. Light eyes blacked into pits he ruined her through and through. He had to be lying, he just had to be.

“Fast learner,” Grayson sneers, leaning forward to smear his saliva around her slick folds, arms circling her midsection to hold her close again.

“ Fuckfuckfuckfuck- keep fu- keep going!” Jesse begs, barely holding on to the light threatening to slip away into the fire burning her up. “Doing so good Gray, so fucking good.”

She had discovered soon in the relationship and the minimal sexual acts they’d indulged in that Grayson was a man that adored praise. He wanted someone to tell him how good he was doing, even if he already knew it. He wanted someone to look him in the eyes just as she was doing now and watch him succeed. He wanted complete undivided attention, verbal acknowledgment.

He sucked at her still, sliding his tongue into her quickly then — remembering someone in a poorly shot amateur porn video did the same to the tatted up blonde he was practically fucking to death, and hoped it would have the same effect on his beautiful princess begging for him to keep going. He kept note while he watched the video, knowing one day he would be standing where he is now relishing in the gold mine that belonged to him. He fucker her with his tongue, humming into her cunt for the added stimulation.

Fuck all she was the end of him. “Pretty pussy all wet for me, yeah? Want to cum? Bet you doubt me huh? Thought I wouldn’t do you right…”

He chucked at the vigorous nodding of her head, the eyes rolling in the back of her head, the hand that leaves his hip to pull at her own hair. Her eyes squeezing shut in panic now that she feels the tip of the iceberg coming up fast.

“Don’t even know how crazy you drive me, how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

Hearing him admit it only made her thighs quiver against his strong arms, only made her want more, made her creep dangerously close to the edge she was for once in her life afraid to fall off of. The crash into the sea would be the biggest shock she’s ever had. Jesse tried to focus on her breathing, trading the heaving for squealing when he dipped his tongue in her entrance to give her something to fantasize about. She’d never had someone tongue fuck her, let alone stair into her soul while they did it.

Fuck he was good. Too fucking good.

“Baby you have t-to slow down,” she warns, the big splash terrifying and so close. He was a wicked man for doing just the opposite, spreading her legs wider and shaking his head against her again, eyes squeezed shut like he knew what would happen in only a few seconds.

“Grayson step back,” she tried to warn more firmly, afraid of the unfamiliar feeling of something new about to happen, embarrassed already but too worked up to stop it. “Shit - Grayson step back!”

And there it was, the strongest orgasm she’d ever had and certainly the wettest. Her release soaked the bed beneath, sheets spotted with her arousal and breath stolen from her lungs. She’s not sure when Grayson had dropped her, or whether her convulsing body wiggled out of his grasp during the black out she’d just had. She was spread on the bed in her own mess, her chest flushed, damp hair stuck to her forehead in waves, vision blurred, eyelids drooping in exhaustion, hand somehow in Graysons.

He’s there then. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once, his hand a ghost on her forehead brushing away those tendrils of hair, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles with tender care, his lips smoothing the furrow of her brows. Grayson is lifting her without a word, caging her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and smoothing her head against his chest to feel the weight of her there - just to feel the heat of her consume him.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, spent.

“I hope it wasn’t too much,” he whispers into her hair, hand smoothing over the locks while rocking her around the room, mind racing with every image of what he’d just done and the feeling of complete bliss flooding his body.

He’s almost worried she fell asleep in his arms until he feels the shaking he can only assume is laughter, before she’s hugging him tighter. “Idiot. I can’t believe you’ve never done that. And I can’t believe I’m this tired. Feel like a rookie.”

“Guess I passed the test then?”

“Flying colors.”

Jesse nuzzles in as far as she can, tucking in her arms against his chest and letting the state of Nirvana wash over her. With a sigh Jesse thinks over the shocking events of her boyfriend being 100% nastier than she’d initially thought — not that she’s complaining.

She barely remembers Grayson running a bath, or setting her in the steaming tub with a kiss, or waiting for him to strip the bed with a giddiness sitting in his chest at all that they’d done, barely remembers him joining her in the tub and catching soap in the calm of his hand to smith the suds over her post-sex body. That’s the only way she would describe herself in the moment, her skin felt sensitive to the touch, sparks still shooting through her with the feeling of his hands on her.

What Jesse does remember is laying with Grayson in a bed freshly made, arm draped over his stomach, head resting against his arm, lips peppering kisses against his chest randomly through-out the night. She remembers the feeling of adoration and understanding. What they’d done was both the most foul thing she’d ever done, but also the most liberating and beautiful experience. To lose yourself in another person in such a way that you’re utterly consumed by them was...foreign to the pair laying together in the still of the night.

Jesse waited until Grayson was softly snoring until she said the only thing she’d never had the guts to tell him in the months they’d been dating. He’d been waiting on it patiently. It was different between friends, but it meant so much more when you don't want to say it to anyone else for the rest of your life. The moment she says it, she can’t ever take it back. Maybe that’s why she chooses the early hours of the morning to lean in and press her lips against his feather soft, blinking back the mist clouding her vision.

“Don’t know if you could tell...but I'm kind of in love with you...so just be patient with me please I’m trying for you.”

Maybe she would get the guts one day to say the words while he’s awake, maybe face to face or with the lights off because she has some kind of comfort in the dark, or maybe it would slip out on accident. In any way that it happens, she hopes he will smile. She hopes that he knows how insanely incandescently happy he makes her each and every day, and how honored she feels that she got to experience another first with him.She hopes he will be comforted that his feelings are 100% reciprocated. She hopes that she gets to see that beautiful smile he wears on special occasions -- the true smile that he doesn't show too often. For now she presses her lips to his once again, smiling softly as the slow ride and fall of his chest, arm holding her close, the ring she won him out of a shitty machine in the corner of a tattoo shop he’d stopped into on a whim secured on a thin chain around his neck, and the fluttering of his eyelashes while he dreamed.

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spaceskam · 3 years

Text

when you come home to me

Summary: Alex comes home for a few days and spends them in Michael’s bed.

Tags: bittersweet fluff, lost decade, implied sexual content

for the @malexremix here's a remix of @tkstrrand ‘s fic If the world was kind, he would stay.

ao3

Monday

Alex took a deep breath, hands squeezing the armrests of the airplane seat.

They’d just landed and he was just waiting for the clearance to get off the plane. Then he’d catch a cab to his dad’s house to pick up his car and he’d get to go home. He was crawling out of his skin with anticipation and nerves. He knew, logically, that he’d be welcomed back. But he always held a sliver of doubt. Alex was always just preparing himself to walk up to Michael’s airstream and find someone else in his bed.

He didn’t have insecurity around Michael’s bisexuality or anything. He wasn’t intimidated by the idea that Michael might choose to be with a woman because it’d be a simpler time while in Roswell. Honestly, anyone would be easier for Michael to date in Roswell. At least they’d be there full time.

Yet, he couldn’t shake his nerves. He’d gone too long without contact this time, he thinks. Three years. So much could happen in three years. Michael could’ve met someone and gotten married and had a kid and it would’ve been a socially acceptable timeline.

God, he really hoped he didn’t have a kid or a spouse.

The entire process of leaving the airport, watching a few of his fellow soldiers have a grand reunion with their family while he walked towards the doors alone, and riding home in a stuffy cab that smelled faintly of weed seemed to pass all too quickly and drag on painfully at the same time. He was as sure it’d taken his entire day as he was sure it’d been 15 minutes and he was about to fall on Michael’s doorsteps without the time to think of what to say.

The first sign things were going to go in his favor, though, was the fact that his dad’s house was empty. Alex knew his father knew when he was coming back to Roswell. Not that he deliberately went out to keep track of that date, but his dad always seemed to know everything that Alex did. Which would make sense considering his current CO was buddy-buddy with Jesse Manes. The fact that he wasn’t there, waiting to make it difficult for him to get to Michael’s, was a godsend.

Alex took a record-breaking run to his room. He grabbed his phone, his charger, a couple more items of clothing, and his keys and he was gone before his dad could even return.

Michael moved between Foster’s Ranch and the junkyard. He didn’t think about what it would mean if he was somewhere else. How would he find him if he wasn’t there?

Fortunately, he didn’t have to dwell on that disaster seeing as Michael’s truck was right where he left it in Sander’s junkyard. He took a breath and climbed out of his car at the same time Michael emerged from the door. He had to lean against the car as he got a good look at him.

He looked practically the same, maybe with a little more facial hair going on, but the shirt and the jeans were more of the same. Alex didn’t have to touch it to know how soft the fabric was from years of use. He didn’t have to feel Michael rub his stubbly cheek on parts of his body to know it’d leave a beard burn rash for a day or two after he left.

He wanted to feel it anyway.

“Alex,” Michael breathed, his eyes going a bit wide and his lips parting like he couldn’t quite believe it. That hurt more than Alex had the words for.

Alex pushed himself off the car and shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping to give his hands something to do while also keeping them to himself until Michael gave him the green light to do otherwise.

“Hey.”

Michael took each step down with his entire body weight, thud, thud, thud, like he didn’t know another way. It had Alex feeling nervous and excited and a billion other things.

“You’re back,” Michael said. Alex tried to smile, but it refused to find his face so he nodded and looked down.

“Temporarily.”

Michael was quiet for a moment, but he never stopped walking closer. He stopped just an arms-length away and Alex’s eyes trailed up him, trying to spot any difference. He didn’t really see any, only a few holes in his jeans that Alex longed to put his fingers through.

“How long?” Michael asked.

“‘Till Thursday,” Alex said, making that arms-length distance more like hands-width. Michael nodded slowly, his eyes betraying his thoughts and feelings. How that wasn’t enough, but he would accept it anyway. A twisted part of Alex basked in the fact that he was wanted at all.

Instinctually, Alex looked around the junkyard for any signs of life. Not that he was foolish enough to think that Sanders didn’t know something. More than once, he’d whistled for Michael like a dog instead of coming close enough to knock which Michael thought was hilarious and only happened “when you’re in my bed, Private, I think he’s got Spidey senses”. It was a little nerve-wracking, but Alex was able to convince himself that that didn’t mean Sanders knew it was him or knew what they were doing. There was reasonable doubt to be had. But. Still.

“Sanders is away, I’m looking after the yard for a while, no one’s around,” Michael whispered. Alex’s eyes drifted back to him and a smile finally found his face at the idea that they were completely alone. That meant he could convince Michael to stay in bed a little later in the morning. That meant he could get him to be a little louder. They could be a bit more comfortable in their own skin.

Michael moved until they were practically chest to chest, nearly stepping on Alex’s toes in the process. He wouldn’t have minded if he did, honestly. Michael reached up to grab his collar, tugging him in until they were nose to nose. He laughed softly, that tense knot of nervousness in his stomach exploding into pure excitement. For all the times he told himself he’d never come back to Roswell, this made it blatantly clear why he kept doing just that.

“Wanna go inside?” Michael murmured, tilting his head just enough to nudge his nose into Alex’s. Alex nodded quickly, feeling young and dumb and giddy for just a moment, and Michael smiled. God, he was beautiful.

Michael’s hand drifted from his collar down to his hand and he led the way into the airstream with Alex hot on his heels.

When the door closed, Alex started to unbutton his jacket. He expected frantic, desperate movement from both of them like usual, but Michael stopped and looked at him up and down for a moment. Alex grinned and slowed just a bit, just to tease. Michael rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his lips brushing Alex’s cheek in an experimental fashion. Something bigger than butterflies‒birds, maybe pterodactyls‒burst in his stomach at the small affection.

“Say ‘honey, I’m home’,” Michael asked against his cheek, voice quiet and unsure. Alex turned his head until they were nose to nose again and shucked off his jacket. It hit the floor and he didn’t give a shit about picking it up to fold it neatly.

Alex hooked his thumb into the hem of Michael’s jeans and tugged him in until they were pressed together from head to toe. He very much wanted to be pressed head to toe without their clothes between them. So he grabbed the belt buckle.

“Honey,” he said, breathy and not as sing-song as he was planning. Michael grinned anyway.

Alex yanked the belt out of the belt loops and Michael started to untuck Alex’s shirt, calloused fingers gliding over his stomach. Alex slowly started backing him further into the airstream towards the little bed that they’d made more happy memories in than Alex would ever tell anyone about. They were theirs. No one was allowed to taint them.

“I’m home.”

“You’ve been gone a while.”

Alex tried not to flinch at the simple statement, instead of letting his fingers trail over Michael’s skin. He had his ear against his heart and the soft, repetitive thud was soothing in more ways than he had the words for.

“I got a promotion, things have been kinda hectic,” Alex said, quiet and clinical in hopes Michael would drop the subject sooner rather than later, “We were traveling a lot.”

Alex managed a glance up at him and met his eyes, silently asking him to drop it if he could. That was an easier said request than done, but still. Michael rewarded him with a hand through his hair.

“Congrats,” Michael said dryly. Alex scooted a little closer, pressing up against his body in hopes that it’d subdue whatever was going on in his head. It was all he could do.

“Tell me about you,” Alex said, desperately changing the subject as he rested his head on Michael’s chest again. His heartbeat was a little louder, a little faster. Alex wanted to soothe that away somehow.

Michael’s arms wrapped around him.

“Isobel got married.”

“To Noah?” Alex asked, a smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t know the guy and he had mixed feelings about Isobel, but Michael loved her and he thought Noah was good for her and therefore Alex felt the same. “That’s great.”

“Mhm,” Michael agreed, craning his head down to search for a kiss. Alex moved to touch his face and deepened the kiss with ease.

This he could do. This he knew would make him relax. It always did. Maybe that was stupid and immature, but it felt good. It was an easy way to see Michael smile, to hear him laugh, to feel his skin turn red with adrenaline and excitement. And Alex knew he was the cause.

He liked being the cause of good things and so far making Michael feel nice was the only thing on that list.

Alex pulled him down into bed with him all over again, a silent promise to add a tally next to that one item on the list.

Tuesday

Alex slept in late for the first time in a long time, allowing himself to wallow in bed even after he knew there was no more going back to sleep.

He rolled and buried his face in the pillow before remembering that he wasn’t alone. A small smile found his face, still hidden away from the world in the comfort of the pillow and he reached out, feeling for Michael. However, the bed was empty and his smile was replaced with a pout. He lifted his head groggily and looked for Michael only to see him watching him from across the trailer.

“Come back to bed,” Alex whined, reaching out for him and forgetting himself for just a moment. He shouldn’t be whining and begging and using grabby hands towards anyone regardless of what they’ve done. Still. He did it. He quickly dropped his hand and evened his face once he remembered.

Michael seemed unphased by the slip-up, a big, warm smile on his face as he leaned against the counter. He was shirtless and had a pair of jeans on that were unbuttoned and hanging loose on his hips. Alex could follow the line of hair across his abdomen down to where it disappeared beneath his jeans. It made him feel warm all over again and he could feel himself forgetting his composure, wanting to just reach out and take.

“I will in a second,” Michael said softly.

Alex scrunched up his nose in distaste which got a huffed laugh out of Michael, but he quickly let it drop and he sat up. He reached across for where his bag was and pulled out a pair of clean boxers to put on and then threw on one of Michael’s shirts on top of it. It wasn’t as warm as the one he was wearing, probably, but it would simply have to do. And it really, really would do.

Michael came closer, finally, and sat beside him with two mix-matched mugs in his pretty hands. He handed one to Alex and adjusted himself to lean against the wall as Alex took a sip. He found himself staring into the cup almost too afraid to take another sip in case this was just something he made up in his head despite the warmth blooming in his gut at the taste.

“What?” Michael asked, taking a sip of what was most definitely coffee from the smell of it.

Alex turned his entire body to look at him, disbelief thrumming through his veins and a smile pulling at his lips.

“Since when do you drink herbal tea?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow. He had at least one vivid memory of Michael choking and spitting it out when Alex had forced him to take just one sip.

And it turns out he didn’t and all of the disbelief in Alex’s system lit on fire into pure euphoria as Michael said he got it just for him. A small hope and faith that Alex wasn’t just fucking around with his feelings and dropping off the face of the Earth. Not just that, but spending his money on something for Alex. They didn’t really spend money on each other and this wasn’t necessarily expensive, and yet…

“Thank you,” Alex breathed, moving forward to kiss him again. Michael kissed him back and then took the mug from him to place on the counter beside his own. The taste of the coffee on Michael’s tongue definitely clashed with the tea, but Alex craved it.

The shirt he’d put on ended up on the floor and Michael grabbed his knees to pull him into his lap enough to lay him down. Alex felt high on him, on the idea that he bought him tea, on the fact that he wanted him to come back, expected him to come back. He held onto Michael’s back, tugging him in close and almost clawing at his back just to make sure this was real. That he was really here and they were really together if only for a moment in time.

“Ah,” Alex breathed, gripping him tighter as Michael’s teeth dug into the skin of his neck.

They seemed to have the same idea.

Wednesday

One day, when Alex had a house of his own, he was going to have an at-home library.

He didn’t have time for books much anymore, but the idea was still appealing and one day he wanted to have time for books. He wanted his walls to be lined with them, to have a full selection, to have the permanence of them. Michael, however, was already beating him at starting a collection.There wasn’t many in the grand scheme of things, but more than one should have in a living space so small, a stack of textbooks and non-fictional works on the table and a hidden pile shoved beneath the bed.

The whole thing had Alex feeling light and fluffy again despite the fact that Michael was working and Alex had to entertain himself this morning. It was just so cute. Alex took a shower and got dressed and when he got all ready for the day, he found himself staring at the stack. He carefully took the top one and started to thumb through it.

He objectively knew Michael was intelligent. He didn’t care what people said about mechanics, the shit was hard work and took more intelligence than he was sure anyone really knew. Even Alex really only knew how to change a tire. Michael, on the other hand, had built an entire engine.

Still, opening the old textbook to see it was flat-out mechanical engineering in the most clinical way was enough to make Alex feel warm with pride. All the highlights and notes in the margin felt so personal and the loose-leaf paper tucked into the practice problem pages screamed Michael Guerin. He was just so fucking smart. Alex liked him so much.

A few vocabulary words later‒and most notably a lot of notes on how to build a bigger, more powerful engine and an asterisk to remind him to compare to notes in his Rocket Propulsion textbook‒Alex found himself peeking behind the little curtain to see if he could spot Michael. And he did, seeing him wiping his hands as he spoke to a pretty woman who was probably a decade or so older than them. She was very clearly appreciative and Alex couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

Alex went back to the textbook, making himself comfortable in Michael’s bed. He had a secret, personal, debatably gross affinity for the way the blankets began to smell after they’d had sex a few times without washing them. It was gross, but they smelled a little musty and a little like Alex’s body wash and a little like Michael’s skin and a lot like they were a product of the two of them existing as one. He’d enjoyed the smell since the summer after high school when they were resigned to the bed of his truck with his sleeping bags. The idea of it pulsed in his veins.

He brought the blankets to his nose and kept reading.

“You’re dressed,” Michael noted when he came back inside. Alex managed to drop the blanket at the sound of the door opening in a casual motion, trying not to do anything distinctly weird. If Michael noticed he didn’t say anything, instead happily sitting on the bed in all of his sweaty, greasy glory and pulled Alex’s legs into his lap.

Alex glared at him and deeply buried the urge to see what his neck tasted like when he was this messy.

“It was getting cold,” he said simply as he put the book down.

“That’s what the blanket is for.”

“So, I was just meant to wait here for you, naked?” Alex teased, gravitating closer unintentionally. His eyes drifted to that spot on his tan neck, glistening with the heat of the day. A little bit of staring and he realized he left a mark.

Huh. That was a first.

“That was the plan, yeah,” Michael said. He grabbed Alex’s hand and held it tight.

Alex teased him and watched him closely, considering pulling him down and saying screw showers despite the fact that Michael desperately needed one before he put his hands anywhere sacred. Michael, however, noticed the book.

“Engineering,” Alex told him when he asked, “You’ve got lots of notes in here, you building something?”

Alex turned a few pages, that one reminding him to compare notes in his rocket science book unintentionally catching his eye again.

“Just cars,” Michael said, tone of voice a little more tense than it should be.

Alex met his eyes and stared at him. And for the first time in a long time when it came to Michael Guerin, Alex got that weird feeling in his gut that said he wasn’t telling the truth. Which would be ridiculous‒what the hell would there be to lie about?

Instead of letting himself sit with the idea, however, Alex tilted his head back and closed his eyes, shaking it out of his mind. They were having a good week. Alex was being paranoid for no goddamn reason. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Michael’s hand before shifting to lay his head on his shoulder. He didn’t smell like the sheets. He smelled like Michael. And Alex didn’t care that he was probably getting him dirty just by being near him.

“What’d you wanna do?”

“Can we just…” Alex said, breathing out as he considered the fact that Michael did actually have to bathe and that they did need to change the sheets after him sitting on them. He wasn’t quite ready to give up the potency yet. He could only have it for so long. “Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Without meaning to, Alex dozed off. When he came to, the sheets were changed and smelled fresh, though still of Michael, and Michael was clean and tucked up against him. Alex was reminded by how much he liked clean Michael as well. He couldn’t tell if he liked him dirty or clean more.

It didn’t matter. Alex reached up to press his fingers against the mark that was much more visible when he wasn’t grimy and Michael, unconscious and endlessly sweet, moved closer.

He wondered how hard it would be to get Michael to cover him in marks, little reminders for just a few more days after he left. That was, however, extremely impractical and irresponsible given, well, everything about his job.

So instead he cuddled closer and held him and tried to memorize the way his body felt this close.

Thursday

“Do you remember the movie Cars?”

Alex blinked a few times as he registered the words coming out of Michael’s mouth. He was struggling to stay awake considering they’d spent the entire morning testing out the true meaning of stamina and destroying the concept of a post-coital recuperation period, hours dedicated to whiting out Alex’s mind from the inevitable departure that was coming closer with each passing moment. They were running out of time and Alex was much more content to not think about it or address it.

And Michael apparently wanted to talk about Cars.

“What?” Alex asked, lifting his head. Michael was laying in the opposite direction, his lips swollen and red and his hair a frizzy mess where it laid against Alex��s shin. His feet were on the wall to avoid being on the pillow.

“Cars, like the animated Disney movie?” Michael said.

“I-I mean, yeah, I remember Cars. Just, like, where did that come from?” Alex asked, huffing a laugh. He grabbed one of Michael's ankles and brought it to his chest, just needing to touch him.

“Remember when we watched it in Spanish senior year?” Michael continued. Alex nodded, watching him.

Michael seemed still a little dazed now that Alex’s eyes focused on him more. His fingers were playing with Alex’s leg hair and his eyes were half-lidded and the sun was shining even past the curtains, his tanned skin glowing. Alex had littered his skin in tiny red marks that he couldn’t ask for in return. He looked fucking godlike for a moment. Longer than a moment.

“Yeah, I remember we had a sub and she couldn’t figure out how the subtitles worked so we watched it in Spanish with French subtitles,” Alex said.

“You put your head down and your shirt rode up a little ‘cause of it. I sat there for, like, thirty minutes trying to figure out how to tell you that your shirt rode up and I could see, like, a millimeter of your boxers and an inch of your skin. It was nothing, really, but I remember feeling like it was the most scandalous thing I’d ever seen. And I stared at you the whole class period trying to work up the nerve to say something to you, anything, even if it was just saying I liked your shirt,” Michael rambled, his voice a little muffled against Alex’s leg. That didn’t stop Alex from feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. “Anyway, if you could be in that universe, would you wanna be a living car or a living plane?”

Alex breathed a soft laugh, trying and failing to move past the part where he had just admitted something insanely sweet from a time months before they even really spoke one-on-one for the first time. Clearly, they needed to go at it like that more often. They didn’t tell stories like that. They didn’t talk about things that mattered.

To Alex, that mattered.

“Plane,” Alex whispered, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position and trying not to jostle Michael too much even if it felt awkward. Alex kissed his knee as he slowly took one of his legs back. “I like to fly.”

“You like to fly,” Michael repeated, soft like he was keeping it for himself. Alex smiled and slowly shifted one of his other legs away. Michael pouted adorably about it and Alex slowly made his way up his body.

“Yeah,” Alex said, fingers sliding over his thigh as he placed himself over Michael. The pout faded into something a lot more serene. “I did really well in flight school.”

“You have a pilot’s license?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. Air Force.”

“I’ve looked it up before, not everyone in the Air Force flies planes,” Michael said softly, reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t know you did.”

“It’s a convenient thing to have and it was offered to us for free. So, you know, if we ever need to fly away, I can handle it,” Alex said. Michael stared at him for a moment. Maybe longer than a moment.

“Okay,” he said, pulling him down for a kiss.

It was languid and slow, the sun bearing down on them and making it hotter in the airstream than it already was from them alone. And Alex reveled in it. He wanted to soak in as much of this feeling in every way.

Because in twelve hours, he would be gone.

His flight was at five. He had to leave Michael by two so he could drop his car off at his dad’s and then he had to call a cab. And that would be it. He would be gone and he wouldn’t know when he would be back.

It was hard, leaving. Alex wanted so many things, all of them so out of reach, and his body ached for it. But he couldn’t have them. It wasn’t about what he wanted and, even though Michael seemed to want it too, Alex knew it was bad for them. It was messy and there were too many other players and it was best they stole this small time and didn’t make it harder than it had to be. They kept it physical and casual because it was what was best.

And yet.

Michael’s hand pressed to the base of his spine, a hot presence holding him close. He touched every inch of skin he could and he kissed him like it was important. Michael kept tea for him and put off work to be here. He hadn’t looked at his well-loved notebooks since Alex got here. His attention was on Alex. All of it. He was wanted here. Alex loved the way that felt.

He loved him.

It was almost torturous how something could be literally in his hands and simultaneously entirely out of reach. The silly game Alex played with himself, letting himself get all excited about going home because he wanted to see him while reminding himself that there was no guarantee that Michael was waiting. There was no promise made. Hell, they barely spoke about things unless they were trivial to make sure they didn’t make things worse.

And he loved him.

Alex didn’t have to ask if Michael was seeing other people when he was gone, he knew he was. He was handsome and smart and hardworking despite what he’d have others believe. He knew one day he’d come home and Michael wouldn’t be open to letting him in his bed. He’d find someone nice, someone cozy, someone safe. Someone who didn’t keep him waiting around. It was only a matter of time. It was stupid to care too much.

But Alex loved him.

They didn’t start another round this time, bodies too fraught and fried and tired to try. Instead, they kissed until the kissing stopped and they just held each other. The sun was shining on them, the clock was ticking, and Michael’s skin was sticking to his with sweat from how hot it was but neither of them was bold enough to move.

And Alex loves him.

Friday

Alex let out a shaky breath as he watched the clock tick to 1:45 AM.

He’d run out of time. Michael was laying on his back, sound asleep with his head leaning towards Alex. It hurt to look at him, but Alex mustered enough courage to touch his face carefully and push his hair back. He kissed his forehead and then his cheek, watching to make sure he didn’t stir, and then slowly got out of the bed that had been so nice to him these last few days.

Alex gathered his things quietly, putting on his shirt and his pants and his shoes. He grabbed his phone and his keys and held them tightly to muffle any excess noise. His heart felt like it was going to melt out of his chest as he looked at him. Apparently, all the touching didn’t help him feel ready to leave at all.

God, it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.

Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t tell Michael when his flight was or when he was leaving out of self-preservation. He didn’t trust himself to leave if Michael was awake. And yet it still felt like the hardest thing.

Beside Alex’s bag was a soft, worn black sweater. The sleeves and the neck were stretched out. It smelled like Michael. Alex found himself pulling it over his head despite it still feeling a little hot in the airstream. He wanted to keep something, just this one thing, just for a little while.

Quickly, to make himself feel less embarrassed about it, he opened one of Michael’s notebooks to leave a note. He had a million things to say. He settled on something simple.

Borrowed your sweater, it was cold hope that’s okay.

I’ll give it back next time I’m home

- AM

He started at it and swallowed, trying to make sure it was enough. Maybe he could smother it in tiny hearts or find something to make a kiss print with or something. Something that would let Michael know that he loved him even though that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t think of anything worthwhile, though, and instead just flipped it over.

I’ll be back, I promise

Alex took another deep breath and looked at Michael again, mentally saying fuck it as he leaned back down to kiss him on the cheek and breathe in the smell of his hair. It was intoxicating. He wanted to crawl back into bed with him. It was so much better than being out there, running special operations because he was talented. That’s what he was told. Talented. We need you, do you really need a vacation right now? You’re important. Your decryption is incredible and needed. Fine. Five days, but then you need to come back. Captain.

Five days.

“I’m going to come home,” Alex murmured, standing up straight. He swallowed the lump in his throat and found a tack in a small cup of screws and other pointy things, sticking the note where Michael would see it.

This wasn’t it. He was going to come back. Maybe Michael would be with someone more permanent by then and maybe this was the last time he’d get to kiss him. And that would be fair and Alex wouldn’t complain.

But maybe not. And maybe he’d have more of him in his future. More talks. More anecdotes about liking Alex.

More. They could have more one day. This wasn’t over.

Alex got in his car and drove.

#malex #malex fic #micahel guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #malexremix2021

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years

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hey hey hey 📝

Hey you 🥰 Let me tell you straight away there's more than one because I'm a sucker for your fics and I will absolutely read all the one I haven't read yet because I just know they're good. I just know it. Same, my absolute favorite is in blue! 💙

@murdertoothpick

________

young volcanoes

Of course I love this one, Fives' fic AND Fall Out Boy?? I knew you would come up with something awesome but this... This is absolutely wonderful.

I just love the delight, the comfort in knowing that the war is over, and there will be no more fight to the death for the clones. For these men who will finally do something else than die; they will finally live.

It's not until Echo nudged him that Fives sees you approach the ramp with quick feet, colliding into him with a force so strong that he stumbles back a little, and yet, it's the most grounded he's felt in a long time.

Again, I screamed a very real scream when I read that. It's sad; but also beautiful, to be the one person that grounds him and offers him enough comfort and care and that feeling of safety-

'Don't ever let me go,' you press into him, and the way he squeezes you just a little tighter makes you melt.

It does make me melt. I am a puddle. This quote alone cured my anxiety. No but; for real; I just love these silent moments. I am very vocal about my emotions and feelings for the people I care about; but sometimes words aren't enough, or argent quite right so we turn to these silent exchanges - a look, a pression, a touch - something to let you know it's okay. I love that.

Fives meets Jesse with a proud grin, his hold on you relenting except for the one arm he keeps around your waist. 'Not tonight vod,' he breathes, meeting your eyes as you turn to face his brother, 'I'm going home.'

And Fives' words repeat softly in your head. He's going home. […]

That home is wherever the other is. It is the one thing that perseveres beyond the war. It is the one constant Fives' has ever had the choice to have, the one thing you'd never give up for anything.

This. This is it.

Being someone's home is so personal and meaningful. The trust, the care, the feeling of safety- everything that comes with the fact that you are someone's home.

And for it to be a constant in a life and a galaxy where everything keeps changing?? It's the same energy as Ari's fic It's been a long, long time.

It's comforting, and it gives me hope. This is the essence of Star Wars - hope - and you depicted it so perfectly.

I am honestly amazed and in love with this fic. (And Fives.)

at least, percentage wise

This one was a bit painful but also tender; let me explain.

'Hunter sold me as a droid today.'

He continues, 'I know he doesn't think of me like that but...it was hard enough being treated as a clone and now...I don't know what I even am.'

This. Is very painful.

I absutely love Echo, right. I adore him, he's awesome and handsome and kind and funny and he's Echo.

Yet he doesn't know that. He doesn't know who he is anymore- "what" he is.

What. That's so painfully sad. Like I said clones are already caught in this sort of identity crisis because what are they? Clones? Soldiers? Men? Brothers? Humans?

And now. Now Echo isn't even sure he fits the last category anymore. And it honestly pains me when people call him "android" or "droid man" because he already feels so self-conscious about this. And yes- he has prosthetics and robotics implants- but never should he be considered less of a human because of them. He's still Echo. He's still human.

He changed, but he's still Echo.

His next words are whispered, afraid of receiving an answer. 'Tell me you'd love me more if I weren't...' the words catch in his throat, 'this.'

And this is the moment where I tear up because.

This.

I can hear it. I can hear the pain and the fear in his voice and it honestly breaks. My heart.

How deeply rooted is his self-consciousness? How deep does the self-hatred run for him to think so little of himself??

I hate it here it just makes me so angry and sad for him.

My handsome boy deserves BETTER.

'You handsome man,' you jest, blessing him with a short kiss on the lips. 'You ready to sleep now?.'

I love this because I always call Echo "my handsome boy" or "handsome boy" and that's 1. Because he IS handsome like have you seen the man?? And 2. Because I believe if he hears it all the time he will slowly but surely believe it. He will accept that he's handsome and maybe feel less self- conscious about his body and himself...

I just need him to feel loved and beautiful because he is.

And I mean... Soft. Domestic. "You ready to sleep now?" is something you tell to someone in such a casual yet caring way and I am absolutely here for it.

This fic is just- I would react the same way reader did. It's so obvious to me he's absolutely trustworthy and nice and smart and handsome- he's filled with qualities and so many reasons to love him and care for him.

I mean- Echo. He alone is a valid argument.

Anyway, this fic just has me feeling much love for Echo and you made me fall for him again;;

push and pull

'Tsk, why won't you do what I say?'

I read that in his voice every. Single. Time. That's just- so him. 100% pure Crosshair content here.

And "the little umbrella" thing? Tech's remark on the food?

These little funny moments are so soft and a nice contrast to the sometimes sad undertone of the fic! I love that!

'I...like being close to you.'

'It's hard enough letting you in. I don't want my brothers thinking I've gone...soft.'

This. This is also very Crosshair. He's not very vocal, and to see him struggle a bit to confess what's really going on and feel awkward and embarrassed about it is just-

Great. In a sweet way. And the way you write him so well, so accurately-

Yes. 100% yes.

somewhere only we know

Alright. This fic right here is, I believe, the first one I read from you. At least it marked me enough for me to remember it as the first one.

Anna. This fic right here is. You made me cry. You had me crying while reading it because it's just.

The song alone is already- you know, very bittersweet and nostalgic in a way; and you managed to write something so perfect it's- it's not the fic matching the song. It's the song matching the fic.

I read it again to write this review - with the song on loop obviously - and I got tears again. It's just that powerful.

But your anxiety melts away as he gives you a slight smile, offering his hand to you, 'You'll have to lead the way.' […] He would always trust you, he has never felt otherwise.

I can't even explain how meaningful that it. It means so much to him, and he knows; and you do too. There's a level of trust and intimacy here.

'Just...hold me.'

Don't ask me why, but reader saying this is low-key making me emotional.

'Do you want this?', he murmurs, […].

You take an agonisingly long time to reply, your eyes flit between his, searching for any sign of hesitation, or regret. But you don't find any, as much as Crosshair is good at hiding his emotions behind an impassive and collected facade, you see the silent plea in his eyes, a longing for more.

Tears. Very real tears. The care and respect and trust and love this question alone holds. It's just. So delicate and soft, I just-

And then-

'Are you sure?' he whispers, so close to you, basking in this intimacy.

Girl if you wanted to make me cry you just had to say it, right? Like, don't mind me I'm a sucker for this; being so intimate and respectful of your partner that's like- everything.

Honestly that's what everyone deserves.

He lets out a light laugh, it's beautiful, reverberating deep in your heart, a sound so rare that you try hard to commit it—and the way he looks—to memory.

I promise you...

The candlelight surrounds your face in a halo-like glow like you were sent from heaven. It's a blessing.

...you hold my heart. This is poetry. This is art. This is comforting and lovely. And I am tearing up once again.

Your next words are meek, whispered, hidden away from the outside world, but you bare your soul to him anyways.

You almost don't hear it, but the way the words vibrate against your skin as he spills himself inside you makes it impossible for them not to be heard.

You wrote the words; but honestly I didn't even needed to read them to cry. It's just so vulnerable. They are both in a situation were they are literally and metaphorically naked, and there's nothing else but them - everything else fades away without them noticing and it's just.

Them.

And they allow themselves to be so vulnerable, finally, after all the build-up and the obstacles of the war and the downfall of the galaxy and the chip. After loosing each other and finding their way back to each other.

And finally allowing themselves to be so vulerable, so exposed to each other-

Brb gotta cry some more.

He takes one of your hands in his, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. 'Just getting you a cloth Cya'rika.'

Your mouth opens in an Oh, and you gingerly nod at him. 'Okay, sorry,' you give him the most beautiful smiles he's ever seen, and there's a part of him that has changed its mind about leaving you even for a second.

I can't even. Explain. How sweet this is. No words can express what I'm feeling as I read this. The comfort. The reassuring tone. The f**king Mando'a nickname.

Your arms open pathetically when he lets go of you, an invite for him to join you under the covers. But he looks at you in pure adoration, a sight that's so peaceful, so domestic, that he finds himself letting his mind wander, imagining that this temporary room was a home, a place where he could spend the rest of his days with you, away from war and the empire.

My heart is aching. A lot. It's so peaceful yet so tragic in a way, but they don't see that. Again, it's just them; this moment of intimacy, of domestic life where nothing else matter but what they are sharing right now.

Somewhere only we know.

alone together

This fic is awesome. I love the dynamic between reader and Crosshair, there's this very obvious alchemy between them and you manage to write about it with limited dialogue and amazing descriptions. I am absolutely in awe.

Also- Confident Reader? Love that! Especially in a Crosshair fic! And it's great because we also see a glimpse of Crosshair having self-esteem issues, so there's a sort of shift where for once Crosshair doesn't have the "upper hand" and reader isn't all shy and flustered you know (though I absolutely love these kind of fics too!)

But yeah- their dynamic was really interesting!

heartbeat

Another Crosshair fic because I love him and you really write him so well and in-character.

'I like...hearing your heartbeat.'

This little hesitation is everything. And it's so... So personal and delicate.

Someone's heartbeat. That's life pulsing through their body. That's very symbolic too; we usually link strong feelings like love and care to the heart, and to lay there with someone and enjoy listening to that life pulsing-

Yeah I'm getting soft again

'I'm not moving,' he grumbles, pressing himself further into you and sighing in relief.

This is so lovely; him holding on tighter because he doesn't want to move, because he feels good here and that's the best way he found to let you know...

I just love your takes on Soft!Crosshair, you really know what you're writing about.

hands meet

I tried to draw Hunter. With the sunglasses and the shirt and him trying to be cool.

I shall do that drawing again because it's absolutely HILARIOUS and I just adore this fic because it's so light-hearted and sweet and funny!

It's a feel-good fic, the one you read when you need to clear your head a bit; and I promise you the laugh I had reading it!

And I just love the dynamic between Hunter and reader; it's awkward yet there's a lot of alchemy and you just know they do like each other a lot and are just struggling to express it directly.

That's very sweet and I love that.

Love it.

________

So yeah! Again, it was longer than expected but I am not sorry because you deserve to know how much I love these fics and how you also hold my heart in your hands with these.

You're an amazing - incredible - writer and I love how you bring these very human and realistic elements to your stories. It just makes them even more relatable and enjoyable, even if sometimes it's painful, and that's what I love so much about your writing.

Also I absolutely love how you incorporate lyrics between in your writings

Anyway- love u Anna, love your writing, you're amazing!!

#anna 💗#you really came here for real business #making my knees weak half of the time #and my heart bleed the other half #and I will come back for more because you're just SO TALENTED AND SKILLED #I'm so happy I follow you and got into your stories like-#so happy it's so worth it #ur awesome I promise you #mesa answers #sw fic rec #fic recs #star wars fic #sw fics #star wars

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astermacguffin · 3 years

Text

Okay, since my fucked up mind is not content with only one angsty Time Travel Destiel fic, here's a concept for a three-part fic series:

1. Time loop

For context, this is set in a Post-Darkness world where the BMOL plot doesn't happen because I said so. Mary still comes back here tho. (Jack will still happen in this world, but that's for the next parts.)

During a solo case, Dean gets stuck in a time loop. (Turns out that some ruptures in spacetime opened after the Darkness invading Earth and God almost dying.) Sam is more than a day away so they can't meet before the loop starts again, restricting Dean's access to Sam, Mary, and research to phone calls.

Dean prays to Cas and he teleports there, only to realize that it's also a spatially-bound type of magic, so now they're both trapped.

No one else remembers anything after each loop aside from Dean and Cas.

Because Cas artificially intruded the rift, all the loops keep on trying to kill him. So not only do they need to solve the case, but Dean needs to constantly keep Cas from dying.

Feelings are explored along the way. Dean learns the incredulity of keeping his feelings hidden after plenty of alone time with each other (as well as watching multiple iterations of Cas dying).

Only Dean can heal the rift because he started the loop. After their love confessions, they form a plan. Cas possesses Dean (in a very eroticaly charged way) and intermingles his grace with Dean's soul. The power of gay love saves the day and the loop is broken.

2. AU Hopping

The loop is broken and Cas escapes with his memories intact, but Dean slips through the rift instead.

Turns out that mending the rift gave Dean the power to travel thru different realities, but he cannot pick which world he ends up in after each hop and what time he enters it.

He goes through different AUs (except Apocalypse World bc it's stupid). I want to give Dean as many Problems Disorders from this AU hopping, so the worlds he get to visit are worlds that fuck him up.

In one world, they manage to leave hunting behind after Sam establishes a network of hunters, form alliances with friendly supernatural creatures, and make their existence public knowledge. (Dean will remember this world and take insights with him.)

In one world, Jack is born an actual baby and AU Dean and AU Cas raise him together. (It's important to remember that Main Dean has not met Jack yet bc he doesn't exist in his world just yet.)

In one world, Sam is a lawyer married to Jess, John is alive, Dean doesn't go to hell and is still hunting. The apocalypse is prematurely stopped and he never meets Cas. (Dean does not like this world, for reasons he won't explore.)

He continues world-hopping for so many times to the point where he finally lost count. It must have been years already. He still haven't found his way home.

A couple of times, he becomes tempted to just stay in one of the worlds where Cas is available and they can be together. The residual grace inside him protests against this.

The most important world he visits is one where he ends up in a cabin owned by Cas. He examines this Cas closely and then realizes that he's met this Cas before; it's Endverse!Cas.

Dean asks if he's in Endverse, but Cas just shakes his head. Apparently, this Cas is also a dimension-hopper now. Turns out that the rifts appeared all across the multiverse.

Endverse!Cas survived the ambush, reaches Lucifer!Sam, and gets thrown into one of the rifts as some kind of sick mercy kill. He also survives this and then quickly learns his newfound ability. The skill makes him nostalgic of his wings.

Endverse!Cas has been doing this for centuries. When he tells Dean about this, the man is shocked. "Haven't you noticed that you have not even aged a day even a little? Your body has been frozen in time ever since." They're both technically immortal.

Dean stays the longest in this world. He wants to learn as much as possible from the more experienced dimension-hopper, but he also wants to learn more about the man himself. (Oh, and yeah, they totally hook up.)

This Cas knows that there's nothing left for him in Endverse, so he just reveled and enjoyed the traveling. He's been in a relationship with more Deans than he could ever count (and some with the visited world's Cas as well).

The cabin they're currently staying in was owned by that world's Dean, who just died a year ago. Cas has done his grieving and he can leave anytime soon, but he has spent the longest time with this Dean in particular, so he can't bring himself to leave just yet.

A part of him wants to stay in this Dean-less world, because after centuries of doing this, he has given up on ever finding the One True Dean that would fill whatever gap is within him. He has resigned himself to staying here for as long as possible.

At one point, Endverse!Cas asks Dean to stay with him in this world. Or if he doesn't want to stay, they can dimension-hop together for all eternity. Dean declines, saying that he has someone waiting for him.

Endverse!Cas examines him with an unreadable look, as if he can see the grace swirling inside Dean (perhaps he can), and gives a loose smile. "Well, good luck with that. I hope it doesn't take you centuries."

Dean calls him out for the unnecessary rudeness, but he seems unfazed. Cas tells him to enjoy his few precious years with his loved ones when (not if) he eventually returns. "Oh, and when you're done with that world," Cas hesitantly utters, "just look for me, okay? You know how to call me."

Dean starts traveling again, unsure if he made the worst or best decision ever.

3. Time skip

Dean hops a few more times, but eventually he enters a world and he suddenly KNOWS. The grace inside him sings in joy for finally being in the same world as its owner. He's finally home.

He arrives at his own world, but at the wrong time. He's already 15 years too late.

Sam is married to Eileen and they have a child now. Mary has a girlfriend. Cas is now a father and Jack is grown. (Yes, Jack still happens here but Lucifer is immediately dealt with and we never see him again. Good riddance. ❤️ The Chuck plot doesn't happen here as well bc Jack deserves a semi-normal life and not be burdened by godhood.)

Sam being physically older than Dean will definitely give him more Problems Disorders. Seeing Jack all grown will also fuck with his head. ("How long was I gone, Cas?" "Too damn long.") I think Mary having a girlfriend is the least shocking news for him.

It it important to remember that this Cas is the one who escaped the loop. He REMEMBERS what happened. He knows that his feelings for Dean is reciprocated and he waited all these years for him to come back. This would also fuck with Dean even more. "I missed so much of your lives. Why even wait for me?" "Why wouldn't I?"

Dean helps Sam strengthen the network he's established with other hunters using everything he learned from dimension hopping.

The big question of this third fic is: Will Dean risk hopping again? There will be multiple times where Dean thinks: maybe if I try hard enough, I'll land on this world on the right time as well. (He definitely got better at hopping after his stay with Endverse!Cas, but there's still a risk that he'll never get back to this world. The multiverse is vast, after all.)

Dean decides to stay at the end. Yes, he missed a lot, but now he's gonna make up for lost time. And hey, now that he's an immortal spacetime traveler with an angel husband and a nephilim son, he can spend the rest of eternity with them happy.

Is it obvious that I'm very obsessed with time-related tropes? I wrote this in one sitting last night bc this has been marinating in my head for a long time.

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fic #aster writes #destiel timetravel fic #long post

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

that’s not how those work

pairing: fives / reader

word count: 4124

summary: you’re a witch on an outer-rim planet that gifts fives with protection crystals to keep him safe when he leaves. you forgot to tell him how protection crystals work.

warnings: implied smut, shenanigans

a/n: shitpost prompt # 13, everyone!! i’m extremely excited to write this one bc i can’t get over the idea of just chucking a big ass hunk of rose quartz at a problem and making it just, ya know, stop being a problem. this quickly became a favorite of mine and i hope y’all enjoy my first attempt at writing for fives.

the battle was rough, as all battles seemed to be, but tonight the sweet taste of victory permeated through your village. the chief opened your home to your saviors, the men with almost identical faces, and dared their jedi to tell them no when a celebration was set to be held in their honor.

there was drinking and singing and dancing unlike anything you’d ever seen, every sensation only intensified by the mirth of the soldiers. it thrummed deep in your veins and set itself to the drumming of your heartbeat. you were never going to feel this euphoria again, so you believed it highly justified that your eyes lingered on the trooper that had saved you from a blaster shot to the chest earlier that day.

you’d met him while the defense strategies were still being planned, the day the republic forces arrived. his smile blazed hotter than the sun that burned the skin of the men in the harvest fields. he had eyes that were rich and held life like the fertile soil your people grew your food in. and his laugh? you’d never heard any song as sweet.

thoughts of him have had you enraptured since day one. he told you his name was fives, pointing to the number etched onto his golden skin with a smile, and the rest was history. every waking moment that wasn’t spent with everyday responsibilities was spent with each other. you swapped stories about your families and when he shared details of his dashing exploits as a soldier, you told him of the spells you cast and their sometimes ridiculous outcomes.

magic was never a circus trick to you. you took it seriously and it gave you a sense of pride as the strongest in the village. but the way his eyes gleamed with such joy at the idea of seeing real magic, how could you say no? so you found an unsuspecting newt and changed the pattern of its spots. the grin on fives’s face while you arranged them into a five to match his temple was one you’d never forget.

these memories and more were floating through your mind as you approached where he sat by one of the many bonfires built to accommodate for the several hundred guests. he was chatting with his brothers but the moment he spotted you, he forgot what he was supposed to be saying.

you had to have him under a spell, he reasoned. there was no way just looking at someone would take his words from him that efficiently, but alas. he paused halfway through his story and now had two pairs of eyes looking over him worriedly.

they followed his line of sight and their worry dissipated as quickly as it appeared. it was just you, the woman he was just talking about, the woman he hasn’t quit talking about since the first day they set foot on your planet. jesse and kix hadn’t met you in the tenday that the five-oh-first has been stationed in your home but they might as well have known you forever with the way fives has been rambling on about you.

jesse wordlessly shoves fives off the log he was sitting on and barely hides the laugh when he sees you grin at the action. fives, on any other day, would have smacked his brother upside the head for a stunt like that. the only thing that saved jesse from his fate was the way you smiled at him and offered him your hand to help him up.

he took it gratefully and relished in the electricity that buzzed through him where your skin touched his. you began to walk with him, looping your arm through his so casually it was like you’d been doing this for decades instead of days. fives had no idea where you were leading him but he would have followed you anywhere.

the walk was comfortably silent. days had been spent pouring out stories; it was nice to just bask in his presence next to you without needing to fill it with tales of derring-do and fond memories of the dirt you walked in.

arriving at your home was a bit of a rush, if you were completely honest with yourself. normally the only reason people walked through your doors was to enlist your skills for one task or another, some menial and others dire. now, however, opening your front door felt so excitingly different with fives next to you, the starlight bouncing off him in a way that only served to deepen his eyes and smooth his skin. this visitor wasn’t here to ask something of you, not here to take from you; he was here to give, and you were going to give him everything you had in return.

the door was barely shut when your lips crashed to his and his hands found their rightful place on your hips, pulling you closer to him. he was floating away on a cloud of bliss; the fact he was in your home and holding you and being held by you had the arc trooper drifting far from reality. a soft gasp left his mouth as you worked to remove his armor without lifting a finger from where your hands cupped his face, thumb stroking the stubble of his face.

it wasn’t until you guided him to your bed that he spoke of the way you soothed him, the way you’d been able to chase the nightmares away without even trying. you offered your own confessions in return, admitting that your dreams have consisted of brown eyes and a sly grin ever since that first night, and that you’ve never met anyone as strong and loyal and comforting.

you both found solace in each other’s arms, in the way your bodies melded together with the familiarity of your own mind. there were no barriers between you and no definite point as to where the boundaries of your separate bodies were. it was nothing like you’d ever known, would never know again. love was what it was, and although it was doomed to be distant from the moment you licked eyes, you vowed to yourself as you chanted his name that you would do everything you could to protect your soldier.

when you awoke, fives had an arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried into your neck. his body was hot against yours and you would have been happy never leaving your bed if it meant that you’d get to be held like this forever. but there was work to be done if you wanted to keep him safe.

“fives,” you whispered, rolling to face him. his groan was almost adorable as he nuzzled his face into your neck in protest of your movement. “fives, i’ve got a gift for you but i have to get up to get it.” another groan emitted from his throat as he tightened his arms around you, mumbling something incoherent about not wanting you to leave.

unwrapping him from you by sheer force wouldn’t have any effect on him, and you weren’t one to use your magic so frivolously, so you relented and let him hold you for a while longer. nearly an hour had passed before he kissed your collarbone, leaving the bed on his own volition. you took advantage of his absence and walked to your altar.

precious stones were one of the most common ways for your people to show their feelings and intentions with one another. each stone carried a different meaning, and picking a stone based on color alone could get one into quite the sticky situation if they didn’t know the intentions behind it.

fives’s status as an arc trooper meant that he often found himself in the thickest areas of the fight, on the riskiest missions with the minimum amount of backup. this man needed protection, and lots of it, if you were to judge by the scars you memorized the night before. he did what needed to be done in a fight at risk of his own life and constantly had to make decisions that could cost lives if they were wrong.

his role required an unshakable confidence and although you didn’t doubt his skills for a second, a little help wouldn’t hurt. plus it would make you feel better, knowing that he carried pieces of you wherever he traveled in the galaxy.

he returned to the room just as you picked out the stones he needed, walking up to you and resting his chin on your shoulder. only a fool would think he wasn’t observing everything around him and analyzing it; the soft smile on your face as you leaned into his touch, the meticulous arrangement of the altar in front of him, the concentration on your face as you seemed to be moving the stones around to compensate for some being removed. there was a reason behind it, just as there was a reason for everything you did.

his answer was given moments later as you led him back to your bed. the first thought that went through his head was continuing from last night, but you mentioned a gift. were you giving him a stone from your personal collection?

you told him of the significance of gifting stones not long after you met him. being given a stone directly from someone’s altar was one of the strongest displays of care for another person. all the signs pointed to that being what you meant by “gift” but part of him was trying to keep from being hopeful.

moving your legs to sit criss-cross on the bed, you open your hands that contained three stones that you believed were best suited to protect fives once he left the safety of your bed. his eyes met yours in a silent question of you think i’m worthy of this gift? and it took considerable amounts of willpower to not show him how worthy he was right then and there, gift be damned.

“i know you’ll be leaving soon, and i know it’s selfish but i don’t want you to forget me during your travels. these will help keep you safe and guide you in making the best decisions you can.”

his hands wrap around the amethyst tower first, running his fingers along the smooth faces and absurdly sharp edges and point. he spends a moment admiring it before meeting your eyes, a question on his lips. “you said before that the meanings of the stones were just as important as who you give them to. what does this one mean?”

you smiled, knowing he’d remember the importance of your words despite the casual tone you used. “amethyst is known for its ability to protect against negative energies and awaken its owner’s higher consciousness. it can guide you into making wiser decisions without having your emotions overtake logic.”

he hums at that, inspecting the tower a bit more before carefully resting it on your bedside table. his eyes catch the swirls of the malachite and you notice, moving to hand it to him as you answer the question you know is waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“this is malachite. it’s widely seen providing protective luck, like keeping you from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. maker knows you need some of that.” you add the last bit as an afterthought and are thoroughly pleased at the laugh it brings from him. he follows the swirls and circle patterns as he turns the stone over in his hand, studying it to learn of the ways each part of it connects to each other. once he’s satisfied with his inspection, he sets it beside the amethyst.

“this last one is carnelian, the courage stone. it boosts the holder’s willpower. many say that it helps the holder trust their own judgement and find the confidence to do what’s right in the toughest situations.”

he doesn’t move for a long moment, which worries you. the stone is sitting in his palm and staring at him with unseen eyes.

fives can’t recall a time where he felt so cared for, so appreciated. it was clear that you had put extensive thought into the meanings, which didn’t surprise him in the least, but he was still trying to register that you did that for him. sitting there in front of him, that soft smile on your face that had him falling at your feet, it was clear that you expected nothing in return for your gift. but he still felt that he had to give something in return, to show you that he cared for you the same way you cared for him.

he left your bed speckled in lovebites and a vambrace lighter, but he was given so much more in exchange. he had your love and your protection, and that was enough for him.

weeks later he finds himself, alongside rex, jesse, and hardcase, captured by a separatist-aligned village. none of them could have told you how exactly they were captured so easily nor how they still weren’t free after three days.

they heard talk from their captors about a message sent to one of dooku’s goonies about having skywalker’s fist begging for mercy (a whole ass lie, rex hasn’t said a word to them since they were taken three days prior). soon these overheard tidbits involved a date of arrival for the people who would take them off the planet they were currently stationed on.

all four of them knew that if they left this planet, there was a large chance they wouldn’t be reuniting with the five-oh-first.

this was unacceptable and made fives desperate to break free. but how the hell was he supposed to do that?! he didn’t have anything that could cut through the ropes that bound him to his chair, and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair so he couldn’t move his legs. the edges of his armor, if positioned in a certain manner and moved, possibly could have done something to help but it was in a convenient pile several feet away.

he shifts yet again, agitating the rope burn on his wrists from days of struggling, and hisses when he feels something pointy jab him in the thigh. in an unforeseen twist of fate, they had left his belt on. and attached to his belt was the leather pouch he kept his protection stones in.

he had an idea.

slowly but surely, he moved his fingers what little he could to grab at his kama and rotate his belt until his fingers met the leather pouch. he blindly untied the knot in the string keeping it closed and felt around for the amethyst tower.

“fives! what the kriff are you doing playin’ with your rocks?!”

“i’m gettin’ us outta here.”

twirling it in his fingers and hoping to the maker he doesn’t drop it, he begins to use the amethyst to saw through the rope. it’s long work and takes several minutes before the rope is thin enough for him to pull it apart from his wrists. it hurts like a bitch and he’s mildly concerned when he feels a damp spot in the rope. a sigh of relief escapes his lips when he regains movement in his arms, quickly bending down to free his legs and ankles.

“well kriff me with a z-6, it actually worked!”

“couldn’t you have thought about that, i don’t know, three days ago?!”

“knock it off jess, or i’ll leave your shebs here!” fives wasn’t going to leave him, everyone knew that, so the retort was taken with merely an eyeroll.

as the quartet gathered their armor and snuck out of the village, fives realized something: these protection crystals weren’t playing around.

a simple bout of surveillance, they said. they’re not going to have anyone posted at their “abandoned” outpost, they said. it’ll be in and out, they said.

they were a bunch of liars.

he was now -alongside echo and tup- running for his life through the most horribly laid-out building he’d ever been in with only vague recollections on how to get out through the darkness. the enemy voices seemed to be getting louder the farther they ran and it was infuriating. his lungs and legs told him that he was going his damndest but it still seemed like the enemy was getting the upper hand.

“the doors should be up ahead! but there’s one problem!” echo shouted over the chaos.

tup couldn’t believe his ears. “what could possibly be worse than this?!”

“even if we get to the doors, we’ll be shot before we can even open them!”

fives nodded in agreement as much as he could while in a mad sprint. that tiny detail did put a slight damper on their chances of escaping alive. but then again, echo was operating on the assumption that they had to stop to open the doors like a civilized person would. lucky for the three of them, fives could barely be considered civilized on his best days.

he brought a hand to his leather pouch and fished around for the malachite chunk with its intricate patterns and curious shape.

“what in the nine hells are you doing?! do you want to die here?!” tup shouted from beside him in frantic confusion. this was no time for fives to ogle his rock collection, they had to get out of here!

“echo! how far are we from the doors?!”

“a few hundred feet!”

“when we’re fifty feet out, turn on your lamp! i’ve got an idea!”

“this better not get us killed!”

fives would have turned on his own ages ago, but his had unfortunately been damaged on the way to the outpost (he tripped and hit his head on the trunk of one of the weirdest trees he’d ever seen, but if anyone asks he got punched). his feet pounded on the ground to the beat of his racing heart, hand loaded with what was about to be his and his brother’s saving grace.

his eyes were peeled, waiting for the moment echo’s headlamp flickered on and illuminated the doorway to the outside world. it felt like forever in those brief moments, but the moment the light flickered on it was like only seconds earlier he had fumbled for the stone.

it was divine intervention, or maybe it was the protective luck of the green stone he held in his hand. hell, it could have been some sort of protection you had put on him and the stone without him knowing. when he spotted the button that would guarantee his brothers’ safety and lobbed his malachite chunk at it, there was still part of him that doubted it would work.

but he heard a satisfying clink and a clatter, then saw the beginnings of a sunrise peek through the opening doors. echo nor tup could believe what just happened despite it happening right in front of his eyes. the sight of freedom, the closest to a guarantee for another day they’d had in hours, seemed to increase their already breakneck pace.

fives had no idea how it happened, but by some sheer force of luck (thanks malachite) he ended up kicking his stone ahead of them when they ran outside. gods he would have mourned his malachite if he had left it behind, but thankfully he didn’t have to. with the grace his training had blessed him with, he swooped down with one hand and snatched the stone from the ground without breaking his pace.

they didn’t stop running until they were on the outskirts of where they had set up camp, the trio collapsing to their knees when they heard familiar voices calling out their arrival. there was no telling how much longer they could have sprinted from that base high off the adrenaline of near death and awed disbelief, but the moment they felt the hands of brothers lifting them from the ground they were out like lights.

the first thing he registered was the near blinding pain in nearly every muscle of his body. everything was throbbing and tense, and oh how he could use a massage right about now. the second thing he noticed was the absence of his malachite in his fist. did he imagine picking it back up after opening the doors? was he going to have to explain to you how he lost one of your gifts the next time he saw you? he couldn’t think over an incessant beeping he couldn’t identify and-

“fives?... fives! hey, you’re okay, vod.” kix’s voice and comforting hand were soon bringing him back down.

“my malachite! where is it?!”

kix gave him a funny look about the fact the first thing he asks about is a rock, but obliges his brother’s question. “if you’re talking about the green one, it’s right here. looks like it got a little chip in it, though.” the relief on fives’s face perplexed the medic who was unsure as to how he would have chipped it in the first place when he was supposed to be in the middle of an op. he handed the rock to fives who familiarized himself once again with the shape of it, as if it were an old friend he was reuniting with after lost time.

“speaking of, what even happened out there? the last thing we hear from you is that the outpost was flooded with enemy forces, then next thing we know you’re all sprinting like mad men!”

“he’s a karking genius, that’s what!”

echo’s awake now and apparently cursing? as if that’s a thing he does regularly? and calling fives a genius? who was this man and what did he do with his batchmate?

without anyone egging him on, echo continues. “we’re runnin’ for our lives through th’ base, in near complete darkness, and i don’t think we’re gonna get out alive! we can’t get to the doors an’ stoppin’ to open ‘em would have gotten at least one of us shot, but then this bastard! this complete and utter bastard decides to throw one’a his rocks from his girlfriend at the button! and it works! the doors opened and we didn’t stop runnin’ till we got here!”

fives looked between kix and echo and back at kix again. “what kind of drugs did you give him?” kix’s reply was teetering between amusement and mild concern. “none, but i think he’ll be fine after some more sleep and food.”

“what’s this i hear about fives being a bastard?”

kix laughs at rex’s jab before moving to check on others that were in the medbay, knowing that he was subtly hinting that he wanted to speak to fives about the mission.

“just talked to tup,” rex began, taking a seat at the foot of fives’s cot. “he said that you wouldn’t have gotten out if it weren’t for your quick thinking but clocked out before i could get much more.”

fives chuckled at the image of tup falling asleep mid-sentence for a moment before rex continued. “based on what little he said, there was no way you were getting out of there. how did you do it?”

as he heard the story, rex was awed. this kind of thinking, the seat-of-your-pants strategies that saved the day when least expected to, it was exactly why he promoted him to arc trooper. he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. there was just one more question that’s been nagging at him since they were taken prisoner by the seppie civilians, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “what’s your deal with rocks these days?”

the grin that overtook the arc’s face was that of a lovesick loth-wolf pup.“i was given these protection crystals by a witch.” oh yes, fives’s cyare. rex remembers her well. “she didn’t tell me how to use them, but i seem to be getting the hang of it.”

before rex could give a reply, a loud bark of laughter was heard across the medbay.

“ey, what’s so funny?!”

“the way you’ve been using those crystals! that’s not how they work!” kix was now doubled over, holding his sides as if they were literally splitting. “oh stars, this shit’s priceless!”

“hey, kark it, asshole! it worked!” fives, in a brilliant moment of stupidity, decided to throw his malachite at the hysterical medic.

“oh, kriff! what was that for?!”

fives sat up and chuckled, whispering a humorous it worked! before kix was storming back to him, malachite in hand. oh shit, he was going to regret hitting kix with his rock later today, he just knew it.

#star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #fives x reader #fives star performance #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #ct-5555 #arc-5555 #swtcw #shitpost fics #shitpost writing prompts #shitpost fic masterlist #fives #fives imagine #arc trooper fives imagine

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samsexualdeancurious · 3 years

Text

The Way He Looks (At You)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 1,602

Summary: The reader is crushing hard on the younger Winchester.

Warnings: None

Written for Belinda for her June 2020 prompt.

Betaed by me.

---

“Y/N!”

You look up from your beer in the direction of the familiar voice and can’t help a grin when you see who it is. “Dean!”

Your friend weaves his way through the crowd towards you, two beers held high to try and keep them safe. His grin is a breath of fresh air in this place as you stand to hug him.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, squeezing him around the waist.

“We’re on a hunt,” he answers and that’s when you realize he isn’t alone.

A tall man is standing behind Dean, looking confused but interested in what’s going on. Tall is an understatement, actually. Dean is tall. This man is a giant. A gorgeous giant with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and fox-tilted eyes of a color you can’t quite identify in the low light of the bar. He has long hair, floppy in a way that reminds you a bit of a puppy. The ends curl a little around his ears, on the back of his neck, and where a few locks have fallen over his forehead. You want to run your fingers through it.

What the hell? Where did that thought come from?

Dean is speaking, stepping back and gesturing to the man with one beer. “Sammy, this is Y/N, a hunter friend. Y/N, this is my brother, Sam.”

Oh.

It’s honestly shocking that you’ve known Dean for so long and never met Sam. The man is the light of his brother’s life, Dean’s whole reason for existing. You remember when you first met Dean. Sam was still away at college at the time. He’d been grumpy about Sam leaving but also so proud of him for getting a full ride to Stanford of all places.

“Hi,” you say, offering your hand for Sam to shake. “It’s nice to meet you. Dean’s told me a lot about you.”

Sam smiles and oh. My God. Just when you thought he couldn’t look better. He has dimples. “It’s nice to meet you. Dean hasn’t told me much about you but all of it was good.”

“I sure hope so.” You give Dean a playful poke, making him squawk and almost spill his beer. “Did he tell you about the many times I’ve saved his ass?”

Sam’s grin widens and Dean sputters a protest. You just laugh and hop up onto the high chair you’d occupied previously, gesturing to the seat next to you.

“Have a seat, Sam. I think we’re gonna get along great.”

Dean is pouting as he takes the third chair at the table. “I’m going to regret introducing you two, aren’t I?”

You shoot him a wink. “One hundred percent.”

Talking to Sam is easy. He’s brilliant - of course he is, the man went to Stanford on a full ride, for crying out loud - and hilarious. You could listen to him ramble about anything for hours, you’re pretty sure. You could also listen to him and Dean banter for hours. The two play off each other beautifully, a snappy back and forth that has hidden warmth at its core. It’s a treat to see.

Turns out the boys are in town for the same hunt as you. You’d figured as much and immediately suggest working together. Dean agrees without hesitation and Sam flashes you another of his brilliant smiles. Butterflies stir in your belly.

You’re in trouble with that one.

After that hunt - which went really well, having extra hands is always nice - you don’t see the Winchesters again for several months. When you do, it’s once again on a hunt. The Winchesters arrive in town just in time to join you in adventuring into the nest of a shifter that’s wreaking havoc on an upscale neighborhood. Thank god they’re there, too, because the shifter ends up being a pair of shifters and if you’d been alone, you definitely wouldn’t have escaped with only a broken leg.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam says as he helps you into the backseat of the Impala after you’re released front he hospital. The cast is awkward, to say the least, and Sam’s huge hands are steady on your forearms.

“Don’t be,” you assure him. “If not for you, I’d probably be dead now. I thought I was ready for that hunt but apparently not.”

“Just goes to show that even when we’re as prepared as we think we can be, things can always go wrong,” Dean says as he slides into the driver’s seat. “I’m just glad a broken leg is the worst injury any of us got.”

“You need to take it easy.” Sam settles into his place in the passenger seat and twists around to look at you. You can’t help admiring him - it’s so unfair, how beautiful he is. “You should stick with us, at least until you’re leg is healed.”

So that’s what you do, except that you never actually end up leaving even after your leg heals.

The three of you make a great team. Plus, the bunker? Is fucking awesome. You stay there for the three months it takes your leg to heal and quickly fall in love with the place. It’s been a lifetime since you had a place you could call all your own, let alone your own room. Once it becomes clear that neither you nor the brothers want you to leave, you find yourself settling in easily and filling your space with your own things.

The downside of living with the Winchesters, though, is seeing Sam all the time. Well, it’s a downside in that you’re finding yourself falling head over heels in love with him and there doesn’t seem to be anything you can do to stop your quickly-developing feelings. Sam is physically beautiful but he’s also beautiful on the inside. Despite all the horrible, traumatic experiences Sam has been through, he’s still kind and empathetic to everyone he meets. His hands are rough with gun callouses but gentle when he holds rescued victims or pets the floppy ears of the dogs you two meet on your morning runs.

On top of that, he’s wicked smart. He loves books and spends hours in the library between hunts just learning about anything and everything. He organized the whole huge room himself when they first moved in, apparently.

Something about that is incredibly hot.

You may have met Dean first but you and Sam quickly become friends. You can spend hours together, running or watching movies, or even just sitting in the silence in the library surrounded by books. Dean is a good friend for nights out at the bar or nights in with junk food and good/bad movies. Sam is a good friend for afternoons of quiet study. You like spending time with Dean. You love spending time with Sam and it’s very quickly becoming a problem.

You’d hoped Dean would stay oblivious to your feelings but no such luck. He pulls you aside about six months into living at the bunker.

“You better ask him out soon,” Dean tells you without any lead-up to the statement.

You sputter, mind racing as you try to find a way out of this conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sam. Ask him out.”

Your cheeks burn. “He doesn’t like me that way. I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”

“He doesn’t like you - Y/N, are you blind? That boy is in love with you. He’s been crushing hard since I first introduced you two but ever since you started living here? He’s been falling head over heels for you. Have you seen the way he looks at you? I haven’t seen him look at anyone that way since Jess.”

Jess. Sam’s first love, the girl he wanted to marry right up until Azazel decided to use her as a pawn to get Sam back into the hunting game.

Shit.

“You’re not fucking with me, right?” you whisper, staring at Dean and hoping he understands how serious about this you are.

“Never about this,” he assures you, reaching out to give your cheek a little pat. “Go get your man.”

You bat his hand away and he chuckles, looping his arm around your shoulder instead for a hug.

“Trust me,” Dean says, giving you a squeeze.

You nod and lean into him. You have your doubts, of course, but your mind is racing with all the new possibilities that Dean’s words have created.

Sam breaks first.

“Y/N,” he says softly, words loud in the quiet library.

You look up from your book to find him watching you. “Yes?”

“Will you. Um.” His cheeks are pink and he ducks his head a little, adorably shy. “Would you like to go get dinner with me?”

Your heart leaps, your stomach flips, and your mind comes to a screeching halt.

“What?” you manage to say.

Sam blushes hard and he looks away. “It’s okay, you don’t - I understand -”

Your brain finally processes what he asked. “Yes!”

He stops talking and stares at you in awkward silence for a second. “... what?”

Now your cheeks are burning. “I would love to get dinner with you,” you say.

Sam lights up and the sight warms you at your very core. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You return his grin. “Does Friday night work for you?”

“Yeah,” he says, tone softening. Almost as if he’s in awe - like he didn’t expect you to say “yes.” “Yeah, Friday works.”

You reach across the table to weave his long fingers between your own. “It’s a date.”

---

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @imsuperawkward @emoryhemsworth

#sam x reader #spn fanfic #my writing

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lockdownfest · 4 years

Text

LOCKDOWN FEST MASTERPOST WEEK #2 EXTENSION

BLOOD AND CHOCOLATE (2007)

Stuck in the Middle with You by InsanelyWriteful (M) 6k, WIP. With the zombie pandemic in full swing, Nigel flings himself into the fray on the hunt for groceries. Don't even get him started on trying to find that most-sought-after, priceless item of all items: toilet paper. As far as the world's concerned, that doesn't exist anymore. With the world going to hell, Nigel finds himself trapped with a strange man named Aiden Galvin. But, hey, there are worse fates than being stuck with a hot piece of tail, right?

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Two Weeks In Quarantine by JedIzuku (T) 48k WIP, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto. A virus threatens all of Japan. Everyone needs to self-quarantine for two weeks to help prevent the spread. Izuku Midoriya learns that his friend, Shoto Todoroki, would be quarantined alone because of his father’s work. And Izuku won’t stand for that.A love story.

CHARLIE COUNTRYMAN

FALL OUT BOY

Gradually and Then Suddenly by earlgreytea68 (G) 3.3k, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz. Life in quarantine: fourth-grade science, couch concerts, blanket forts.

HANNIBAL

Point of View by house_of_lantis (M) 3.8k, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter. Summary: Franklyn Froideveaux gets an unexpected peek into Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s personal life during their self-isolation.

HARRY POTTER

Locked Inside Your Temper Trap by VeelaWings (E) 4.3k, Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom. This was a minor problem. Not the being trapped in a humid greenhouse with a sweaty, gorgeous Draco, mind you. No, it was being trapped with a sweaty, pissed off Draco who would inevitably blame Neville.Plus the obstacle of not having the privacy to enjoy a fast and dirty wank with all this evening’s material.

Top Priority by JayGwen23 (T). 8k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. England is trying to stop the spread of an aggressive, new virus that is affecting both wizards and muggles. Everyone is being told to self isolate. House mates, Harry and Draco are stuck at home trying to brave it through the madness, while trying not no go mad themselves.Written for Lock Down Fest.

Bored Harry by foxymoley (G) FANART. Harry's been stuck in his room at Privet Drive and is bored out of his mind!He uses his wand in a mug as a lamp as Hedwig stretches as much as she can in her cage.

Harry Potter and the Secret in the Library by EvAEleanor, tasteofshapes (E) 11.6k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Draco stands outside the library for a moment, before he turns the handle and pushes the heavy double doors open. What he expects to find is a silent library cloaked in darkness. What he gets instead is a fire crackling merrily away in the grate, the library lit only by firelight, and Potter lounging on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, clad only in a terry-cloth bathrobe, a glass of wine in one hand.“What the… Potter—!” Draco yelps, and Potter looks up from the book open in front of him and raises an eyebrow at Draco.

The Magic of Muggle Films by sunshinedraco (E) 5.3k. Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry is happy to get home from an Auror mission in Northern Ireland, but may have been exposed to a contagious disease. Draco Malfoy, who comes with a team of Healers to inspect Harry and also happens to be the subject of Harry's long-term awkward crush, is also accidentally exposed. The two are quarantined together. You know what happens.

Sweetheart by WolfyWordWeaver (T) 3k, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter. Remus Lupin comes home after a long day working at the hospital and quickly realizes that something is wrong with Sirius. Avoiding COVID-19 doesn't mean avoiding all hurts and Sirius has to deal with a major hurdle. While Remus doesn't have all the answers he does know how to do his best.

Stuck Senses by TheUltimateUndesirable (E) 12k, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood. In the mist of the 2020 pandemic the wizarding world is left with a dire and unknown future as Covid-19 makes it's way into Europe. Hogwarts ends up on quarantined leaving students, professors and a Luna stuck at the school. How long will anything last and what will anything become? No one knows.

Augmented Agony by Drarrelie (T) 365, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Of all days... Draco's luck was apparently just as abysmal as ever. This work is part of a series of connected weekly drabbles written during 2020. It takes place in 2001, before the rest of the currently published drabbles in this series, while the two of them are still in Auror training.

If It Takes All Night by tackytiger (M) 11k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. It's not the first time Harry's been the victim of a botched curse (that's one of the reasons he doesn't like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too. So they're bonded. That's ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm.But this isn't going to be a problem for their friendship at all.Is it, Harry?

I'll Tell You Mine (If You Tell Me Yours) by MarchnoGirl (E) 4.2k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. When a cauldron of Veritaserum explodes all over Harry and Malfoy, Harry has the chance to finally discover Malfoy’s secrets. And maybe something about himself too.

Correspondence in the Time of Quarantine by Lediona, Zigster (T) 1.5k, WIP, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. After informing Scorpius of my plan to bring him home, he wrote back immediately to ask if he might bring a friend with him to isolate at the Manor. When I inquired about the identity of this friend, imagine my surprise to discover that it was none other than your son, Albus Potter.

Garden War by Cibee (Cibeeeee) (T) 5k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry and Draco are quarantined in their houses, a lake across from one another. What better ways to spend this time than to annoy each other with letters and attempts to prove that their garden is better ?

LITTLE WOMEN (2019)

Chocolate Kisses by lady_needless_litany (T) 3k, WIP, Theodore Laurence/Josephine March. If Jo had to be shut in her house for the foreseeable future, at least she had Laurie to keep her company.

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Strange Attractors by dance4thedead (T) 882. There's an asshole in Matt's apartment. An unworthy love letter to the fic "The Goldilocks Principle". Set in late March 2020, during the COVID-19 crisis.

I walk this lonely road by xxx_cat_xxx (T) 1.6k, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov. Part 3 of Red in my Ledger.

MERCY STREET

We run a very tight ship by middlemarch, sagiow (t) 3k, WIP. Jedediah "Jed" Foster/Mary Phinney. "There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said -- no. But somehow we missed it.” Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.Every single passenger on the ship would have that thought. At least once. Sometimes, on an endless loop, like the announcement about pina coladas on Deck 4. It turned out, the only way out was through. With card tricks.

OCEAN’S 8

You Shall Go To The Ball by ShadowHaloedAngel (T) 1.4k, Daphne Kluger/Rose Weil. The lockdown means the parties are all cancelled, but Rose and Daphne decide to have a little ball at home instead. After all, when else can you have a costume party for the hell of it? And with your own fairy godmother on hand, your gown is always going to make you feel like a princess.

OVERWATCH (video game)

nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody (ooh) nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody no— by faorism (M) 9k, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada and other ships. Like most things now, it's more a matter of not if, but when. (Or: five times Jesse kept himself together and one time he really, really didn't.)

PITCH PERFECT

Icy Hot by Notsoawesomenerd (E), 7k. Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. No, this is not a story about the topical pain reliever. This is a story about the interesting things Chloe can do to Beca with ice and ice-related items.

Desperate Measures by aliciameade (M), 6k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. Chloe and Beca have everything they need to weather the mandated period of social distancing and staying home: food, water, shelter, games, entertainment, and each other's company.The one thing they don't have?Much-needed privacy.

RWBY

The Man in Your Head by goreds (G) 431, Ozpin/Salem (RWBY), Ozma/Salem (RWBY). Salem has a friend in her head. Not that she considers him a friend...

STAR TREK: ALTERNATE ORIGINAL SERIES

fourteen by sciencebluefeelings (T) 2.6k, James T. Kirk/Spock Prime. Two years ago, Spock waited for Jim. Now it's Jim's turn to wait.

STAR TREK: ORIGINAL SERIES

Seventy Two Hours by LiraelClayr007 (G) 2.4k, James T. Kirk/Spock Prime. Kirk lowers his voice, makes it almost too low to hear, and this time he is pleading. “Bones. You know why I can’t stay here. You know what this’ll do to me.” He closes his eyes, then says one more time, “Please.” He can’t look when he says it. He already knows the answer.“Sorry, Jim. It’s only three days. If it’s any consolation I don’t think you were actually exposed, but we have to be sure.” He looks at Kirk, then at Spock, then shrugs. He knows what he’s putting Kirk through.Or: Kirk and Spock are accidentally exposed to something on an alien planet and have to spend seventy two hours together in an isolation chamber. Easy, right? Except Kirk is going to go mad, because he's head over heels for Spock.

STAR WARS

grey and sprawling by srawratskcuf (Doreen) (E) 7k WIP, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren. Ben and Hux have had a rocky long-distance semi-relationship ever since Hux went away to college. Basically, they call each other once a week and have phone sex, and absolutely do not talk about their feelings.When Ben finally saves up enough to fly across the country to visit Hux, his ten day trip gets extended indefinitely. Sheltering in place together will make or break them.

SUPERNATURAL

some kinda something by quillquiver (E) 2k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. There are only so many places to hide shit when you’re playing with 700 square feet of totally shared living space. This is something Dean has become very aware of in a very short amount of time.

Que Sera, Sera by wigglebox (G) 4.3k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. A few months into his new human life, Cas comes down with a fever and cough. Usually, that wouldn't be a concern, but now there's a contagious, new illness spreading across the country, and the anxiety that comes along with it.

I Don’t Understand These References by CeliPuff, Winchesterlovr0508 (M). 1.5k. Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester. Dean says the president extended the quarantine so Sam suggested I make a journal. I suspect it’s a ploy to keep my hands off his brother but being extremely old, I’m entitled to do what I want. And I happen to have eons of experience in multitasking.I prayed to Gabriel to run some interference. I believe this is a foolproof plan.

Apocalypse by Maleyah (Katherine_Kat) (E) 36k WIP, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam, Michael/Adam Milligan. Dean moves through Cas’ kitchen with the ease of familiarity, as he sets about re-heating the leftovers. Ironically Cas’ kitchen is better equipped than the one in his apartment. It’s just that he’s been pouring all his money into The Roadhouse. The apartment is a rental anyway.“You have got to be shitting me!”His eyebrows shoot up at the language. Cas doesn’t curse often, but given the fact that the world is slowly descending into madness, he has a good guess what is provoking it. He glances behind him, across the counter that connects the open kitchen to the living room, where Cas is staring at the television.

THE MAGICIANS

hard rain, honey, and the sweet sun by Allegria23 (E), 7k, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh. Eliot and Quentin are staying in their apartment. They both have some ideas.

THE WITCHER

Love in the Time of Video Conferencing by Elizabeth (M), 15.6k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. Pestilence is a bitch, and the entire university has had to shift to e-learning overnight. Jaskier is a systems admin being forced to pick up slack for the overwhelmed help desk. Work ended hours ago, so why is he on a support call with the most technologically-incapable history professor he's ever met? And really, what is the deal with this guy?Based on the "OMG they were Zoommates" prompt from the AO3 comment Tumblr.This is, five times Jaskier and Geralt used Zoom for tech support, and one time they used Zoom for... something else. I apologize if this upsets you; it helps me cope with the emotions, so I'm hoping to channel stress into fluff and put it out there so it can possibly help others.

YURI!!! ON ICE

Music from the Heart by Multiple_Universes (G) 6.5k, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov. A curse falls over the land. It keeps people stuck indoors and will not let them out. The most powerful magician in the land seems unable to break the hold of the curse. But, as they say, love will always find a way.Inspired by videos of people singing from their balconies during the coronavirus quarantine.

#lockdownfest #lockdown fest #masterpost #Week 2 #tw: covid 19 #tw: coronavirus

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mxtantrights · 4 years

Text

✹PART FOURTEEN

HAWKINS, INDIANA

DECEMBER 24, 1983

It's Christmas eve, and all through the house. Jessie's thoughts were the cheese and she was the mouse. It had only been a month since everything went down and our Odessa starlet was still recovering.

Even though it seemed life had gone back to the way it was, nothing was ever as it seems. In truth that November night never left Jessie's head. Not like her other memories which were filled with gaps and blank spaces. No, this was something she would never forget.

Another thing she won't forget?

The look on her mother's face when she got home that night. Jessie thought her mother would be crying when they all reached home. Or pacing the floors in anticipation for their arrival. It would be the only normal thing to come out of the situation.

That is not however what happened.

Jessie, her father and her brother got home. And her mother was waiting for them at the front door, she even let them open it. As soon as both the kids were though the threshold she grabbed them by the arms.

She told them that they put themselves in danger. That they should have called an adult for help. That they should have never been involved.

Mickey was able to escape, but not Jessie.

Jessie's mother told her that she was grounded. She wasn't allowed to go anywhere if it wasn't with the two of her parents. She also wasn't allowed to hang out after school. It would be straight home for her.

And then her mother pulled her close, as if to hug her. And Jessie felt off. Like it wasn't a meaningful hug. But just one that you get when someone wants to secretly tell you something. And her suspicion was right.

When her father left the two who were 'hugging' her mother's voice appeared in her ear.

Jessie was to know better. She was supposed to think of her little brother, protect him, keep him away from danger. Her older brother had done that for her and she was supposed to do the same for Mickey.

Her mother also let her know she went frantic looking for her and her brother. That she had searched her room, the whole house actually and found nothing. Jessie's eyes went wide with fear, did her mother find her guitar?, she thought to herself.

Jessie's mother let her go and looked her right in the eyes.

And with no words, she made Jessie feel off-balance. That feeling is one that she shares with her brother Dayton, who is coming home after his first semester at university. He had gotten the call from his dad about what went down and was almost ready to hop on a plane over to Hawkins.

But he refrained. He knew that jumping the gun would be the worst thing to do. For the family and for Jessie. He'd have to wait, research and come up with theories. Either way he was going to find out just exactly what he and his family were doing in Indiana a year before Jessie's birth.

And that's a conversation, for now.

˚ · · . · ✵ ✷

JESSIE

　　 ✹ 　　 ˚ 　　. 　　　 ˚ 　　 ⋆ 　　 ⊹ . 　　 ⋆ 　

Apparently Christmas can suck like all the other days of the year.

Not for my brother though. No. My mom was able to drop him off at Mike's house earlier so he could be with the boys. She's gonna pick him up later for dinner though. It seems that me and her have swapped places.

I really would have liked to see the boys, but they did give me a call earlier. Even they had missed me.

I flipped through the last chapter of my book, pride and prejudice, but I didn't read a word. It was like I was in jail. For doing what? Trying to figure out shit as I went and protect my brother? No. I think I'm in house jail just for existing.

A knock on my door sends me upright on my bed.

The door opens before I can even say enter, and I really want to be mad at my mom if it is her on the other side but when I see it's my dad I let it go. He was there with me that night after everything. He didn't yell at me. He didn't make me feel like a prisoner.

I send him a semblance of a smile.

"Hey so I just wanted to say that I am proud of you for keeping your little brother safe. I know partial things about what happened that night and I know it could have ended way worse." He starts up, and I can see him fiddling with his fingers. He never does that. He's not never nervous but usually he's not so outward about it.

"I'll alway protect him. Although I can't do that from this metaphorical prison I'm in." I wave my hand around my room, but really I'm talking about the house.

He chuckles a bit and comes into the room, closing the door behind him. "I know. And honey you know I would prefer you to be with your brother but your mom, she's just shook up about the whole thing."

I nod my head.

He's always being the mediator. I trust him more than I trust her right now. Maybe not enough to question him about the picture. But enough to tell him a bit of the truth I've been hiding away for some time now.

"Dad?" I ask him even though he's right there. He sits on my bed facing me and I think, okay this is it. There's no stoping it now. "I want to pursue music."

I can see the looks on his face. A range full. From confusion, to maybe one of worry, a little bit of stress and then- happy.

"I know honey. Who do you think does laundry in this house?" He throws the question which throws me for a loop. What did the laundry have to do with anything? What was that all about? He reads me like a book and grabs my hand. "I've been in your closet. I saw the case."

I want to gasp but- it's gone. She must've thrown it out in her effort to look for me and Mickey. I don't know why that was such a priority to her but it was. And it wasn't even like she paid for it, I worked my ass off to get it.

I shake my head. "It's gone. Mom obviously doesn't approve."

"Yeah, so when I give it back to you please find a better hiding spot." He says quickly.

I can't help the smile that spreads my lips wide. And I also can't help when I throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight. "Thank you so much dad, really. Thank you, thank you thank you!"

He hugs me back and lets out a long sigh.

"All I ask is that you go for what you want. Your grades in your old music class prove to me that you can stick the landing, so all you have to do is jump, Jess Odess." He says to me and I feel a little flutter in my heart.

I didn't think he knew.

And I didn't think that if he knew he would support me.

But he's managed to prove me wrong.

I let go of him and nod furiously. "I will. I promise."

He gets up from my bed at that and heads to the door. As his hands wraps around the knob and pulls open the door a crack he turns back a bit. "And also do your own laundry? Maybe?"

I chuckle at that. "Yes dad."

"Can the both of you get the cups from the kitchen?" My mom asks.

I look over to Mickey- who's already looking to me in confusion. But I don't want to wait another second so I nod over to the kitchen and we both get out of our seats to follow orders. It didn't take two people to bring for cups out.

Was she angry with dad?

I open the top cabinet and pull out two at a time. Handing two of them for Mickey to hold and placing down the other two for me on the counter. I close the cabinet and pick up the cups and join behind Mickey who's already headed back.

"Dayton!" I can hear my little brother scream.

I put my cups down on the nearest counter and run back into the dinning room. There he is. There's my brother. Mickey is bent over his shoulder as he tickles him- something that I cannot do because he will fight back. And he laughs, his eyes scrunched up for a moment.

Then they open again and he looks at me.

He sets Mickey down and holds out his arms wide.

I don't hesitate to run into them. It's a bone shattering hug. One like my dad gave me when we saw each other after that night. Not like the one my mother gave me that night.

He even lifts me off the ground little and I try to not squeal. But it's over before it's even begun because my mother clears her throat. God. He lets me down and we all look to her. She's eyeing the food on the table but that can't be it. She's just using that as an excuse.

Dayton wraps an arm around me. "Glad to be back."

I push Dayton into my room and shut the door behind us. Making sure to lock it. Do not need to be interrupted by weird mother. With that thought I turn to face my brother, egging him on to explain what I've been trying to wrap my head around for about a month now.

"Jessie what do you remember about your birthdays?" He asks me.

I shrug my shoulders, heading over to my bed. I needed to get him that photo he do desperately wanted. I crouch down and reach my hand underneath the frame and pull it out. "Don't really remember them. You know that, everyone knows that."

I hand over the photo to him and he takes it. Inspects it.

"So far every birthday you've ever had, you've spent it with mom." He explains and turns the pitchout around for me to see. "And I think it has something to do with the fact that you were born here."

What?!

"How could I have been born here? Dayton my birth certificate places me in a hospital in Texas. I can be in two places at once?" I know I sound irrational, but sue me. Wouldn't my own father know where I was born. If it says it on the certificate then- whats the point of the lie?

He shakes his head in disagreement. "No. I'm telling you that I'm 90% sure that you were born here in Hawkins. And that something keeps happening to you on your birthday, something that you aren't supposed to remember, something that someone doesn't want you to remember and it has to do with mom."

I look at him.

He looks at me.

It's like that for a few moments.

I cross my arms over my chest. "So what the hell are we gonna do Dayton?"

"We're gonna make sure that you don't spend your birthday with mom. Play the long game."

#stranger things #Steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #and I've made a villain!!#kinda???#we shall see (teehee)#DAMSEL

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euphoria-svt · 5 years

Text

Comfort

okay anon, I’m a whore for those kinda concepts too but this may not be the best so I’m sorry in advance 😭

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Word count: 1.9k -ish

You felt embarrassed.

You sat at a table for two; waiting in the restaurant that your date requested to meet up at for over an hour and he failed to show up. No calls, no texts, no nothing.

He stood you up.

The waitress came up to you for the second time that evening, a sympathy smile on her face “Hey honey, do you wanna go ahead and order something?”

You shook your head and your cheeks turned red from embarrassment “No, I think I’m going to leave” You told her “I’m sorry for holding up a table… I didn’t think I was going to be stood up”

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it” She said nicely “I’m sorry that idiot stood you up. You don’t deserve it”

You smiled warmly at her, standing up from your seat “That’s sweet of you. I hope you have a good evening”

As you headed for the exit of the restaurant, you called for an uber back to your shared apartment with your 3 best friends.

Connor was sat in the living room; watching a movie on his laptop alone that night. Liam and Jessica were out for date night, he had no idea where you were since he hasn’t seen you the entire day. But when you walked into the house with your shoulders slumped; Connor knew something was wrong.

“Hey” He greeted you, pressing pause on his laptop as he took out his earphones.

You jumped back in surprise; thinking no one was going to be at home right now. You plastered on a fake smile on your face and went over to the couch to join him “Hi Con. I thought you had a shift?”

“They let me off early today” He shrugged as he places his laptop on the coffee table. He then takes in your outfit and raised an eyebrow curiously “Where’d you go dressed so fancy?”

You looked down at the dress you were wearing and shook your head “Nowhere. Just went out” You answered flatly.

Connor frowns and reaches for your hand, resting his hand over yours “Honey?” He asks softly, noticing you were avoiding his gaze. His other hand went to cup your chin so you looked up at him and that was when he noticed the tears in your eyes “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.

You chuckled softly as you quickly rub the tears from your eyes “It’s stupid, Con”

“It’s not stupid if you’re about to cry over it” He frowned “Come on, you can talk to me”

You let out a sigh “Do you remember Jordan?”

“Jordan?” He repeated, thinking about it for a second before it hits him “Jordan from our psych class?”

You nodded and sink back in the couch “Yeah well, he asked me out tonight then stood me up”

Connor had a weird feeling in his stomach and he knew it had something to do with another guy asking you out.

Connor frowned at how upset you were. He hated to see you sad; always wanting to see that beautiful smile of yours constantly.

He tugs you closer to him and let you rest your head against his shoulder “I’m sorry he did that to you, hun” He said softly “But he’s not worth your tears, though. It’s that idiot’s loss for forgoing to spend a night with an incredible woman”

“I’m not even that upset Jordan stood me up….” You admitted “It just got me thinking that I’m never ever going to find someone who’s going to want to love me and do all those cheesy shits together, you know? And that sucks”

Hearing those words hurt Connor because he knew he was someone who could love you for who you are and would try his best to make you the happiest person, if you let him.

But then again, Connor has always been afraid to express his feelings for you, despite Jessica and Liam encouraging him to do so, because he was afraid it would make things awkward between you two and he would lose his best friend.

And let’s face it; Connor would rather hide his true feelings than to lose an amazing person like you.

“Hey, listen to me y/n” He ordered lightly “You’re going to find that someone, hun, because any guy would be lucky enough to have you. Someone is going to love you and be there for you through ups and downs. He would be the cheesiest person only for you because he’s just that whipped. You’re gonna feel that type of love, y/n. I promise”

You were so glad Connor wasn’t looking at you right now so he couldn’t see your cheeks heating up by his words.

He’s just saying that to make you feel better. You thought to yourself. Don’t get your hopes up.

“How do you always have the right words to say?” You questioned “Literally every time I come to you with a problem and you would come up with something and I’d feel less shitty”

He laughs softly, “Because I’m your best friend, honey. I know you better than you think”

It was quiet between you two for a few more minutes before he spoke up again “What are you doing on Friday night?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look at him “I don’t think I have anything planned… Why do you ask?” You ask confusingly.

Now or never, right? Connor thought to himself.

“Let me take you out to that carnival in town?” He asked with a shy smile.

“You want to take me out?” You ask hesitantly; surprised at his offer “Why?”

Idiot! You yelled internally. If Connor wants to take you out, the best thing to do is be nice and say yes!

“I figured you deserve to go on a date after that idiot stood you up” Connor explained, feeling self-conscious suddenly by the way you reacted “It’s okay if you don’t want to, y/n… I totally get it”

“No!” You quickly answered, mentally face-palming yourself for giving him the wrong impression. You smiled, reassuring him “I was just surprised by your offer, Con… I would love to go to the carnival with you”

“Okay, cool, cool…” He nods, mirroring your smile “We can go at 7pm? Is that okay with you?”

“That’s perfect, Con”

xxx

“So, you and Connor” Jessica smirked as she watches you do final touches on your makeup from your bed “It’s finally happening!”

“Jess,” You let out a whine, picking up your favourite shade of blush with the appropriate brush to apply over your cheek “It’s just a friendly date”

She snorted, rolling her eyes “Okay sure, babe. Like we don’t see how you two look at each other”

You shrugged your shoulders “Yeah, okay, I may like Connor more than a best friend but I don’t know how he feels about me”

“Oh y/n, I just know how he feels about you” She smirked.

There was a soft knock on your door just as you dropped your makeup brush, “Yeah?” You called.

“Hey, you ready?” Connor asks from the other side.

“Yeah! I’ll meet you out in a bit!” You called out once again, hearing him hum in respond as he walked away from your door.

“Have fun!” Jessica chirped as you picked up your sling bag from your study table “Let me know how it goes later?” She smiled.

“Sure” You nod “If you and Liam aren’t too busy doing other things” You wink; laughing as she flipped you off.

You met Connor by the front door; he was leaning against the wall while typing away on his phone. You cleared your throat as he looks up, smiling widely.

“Hi” He greeted, slipping his phone into his jean pocket “You look really good, y/n” He complimented.

You blushed in return “Thanks Con, you do too. I love the jacket”

“Have fun kids!” You two hear Liam call from inside the apartment “Brashier, I want her back by 11pm!”

You and Connor rolled your eyes as you shouted back “Fuck off, Liam!”

Connor offered his arm out to you and you looped your arm through his; walking out of the apartment together.

“You locked Dylan up in your closet?” You ask, laughing out loud as you two were walking around the carnival “Why?”

“Because he destroyed my lego building!” Connor whined “But I got in trouble with my parents after that. I couldn’t go out to the park for a whole week”

“Oh my God, you locked your brother up because he destroyed your lego?” You asked in disbelief “You’re really something else, Brashier”

You continued giggling at his childhood stories, occasionally feeding him the cotton candy he bought for you two to share. You were having such a good time with Connor, like you always have, but this time it was different. You both agreed to call this one a date and whether you would admit it or not; that meant something more than being just best friends.

When you two passed by a photobooth, your eyes lit up.

“Can we?” You pleaded, pointing towards the booth “I haven’t done one in so long!”

Connor chuckles, nodding as he lets you drag him into the booth. You two did a bunch of goofy poses for the first three but for the last one; Connor unexpectedly leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek while you were smiling at the lens.

“Oh, they came out so good!” You commented after two copies of the photo strips were printed out “We look cute”

“We do” He grinned.

The next stop was the Ferris wheel. There was a que when you got there and 10 minutes later, you two sat in the small carriage as you waited until you were on the top.

“It’s so pretty” You sighed happily at the view of the city at night; the time of day where all the buildings were lit up.

“Yeah” Connor agreed after snapping a quick picture of it on his phone “It really is”

“Hey,” You call softly and he turns to look at you “Thanks for taking me out tonight” You smiled, “It’s been really great”

Connor mirrors your smiles “It’s my pleasure, y/n. I enjoyed myself too. Always a good time whenever I’m with you”

Your cheeks heated up as you fiddled with your fingers nervously “I feel that way about you too” You admitted shyly.

Connor looks into your eyes and you find yourself getting lost in his ocean blue eyes as he leans in closer to you and finally presses his lips against yours. You immediately kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You were the first to pull away a few moments later as Connor rests his forehead against yours. You two couldn’t stop smiling; both still feeling on cloud nine from the kiss.

“So…” He spoke up shyly “Is this gonna make it weird for us after this?”

“Hm, that depends” You said teasingly “I’d be pretty bumped out if you kissed me just to tell me that you just want to stay as best friends”

“Course not” Connor reassured “I mean you’ll always be my best friend but I’d really like it if you would be my girlfriend too”

“And I’d really like that too, Brashier”

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

Reblog, like and give me your feedbacks! ❤️

x rina

#connor brashier #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier x reader

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years

Text

Supercorp SAO AU, Pt 3

Kara hasn't ever met Lena's husband. Honestly, she isn't entirely sure Lena has either. He's never home, Lena's apartment very much her own from the art to the books to the furniture. If not for the occasional tabloid photo, the wedding portrait on Lena's mantel, and the rings on her left hand, Kara might have assumed the husband to be a specter to dissuade would-be suitors. Even so, she can't help but notice the way Lena's smile dims when she sees his number on her phone during movie night. "It's nothing," Lena says, when Kara works up enough nerve to mention it. "He likes to pick fights. I used to enjoy the debates we'd have, but lately... I don't know. It doesn't feel like debate anymore. And at the end of the day I don't have the energy for it." Over the weeks and months, Kara learns about him in bits and pieces. That he was a friend of Lex's, and that they fell in love over the course of several summers. That he had his own tech company, who had just migrated to a new market on another continent, hence his absence. One time, Kara arrives to movie night to hear Lena almost shouting into her phone. Her tone is the kind Kara only heard once in all their time in Aincrad-- when she'd been on the verge of committing murder, against a player who had nearly poisoned Kara to death. Dark, menacing, and inhumanly cold.

"Come anywhere near my company again, and I will slap you with enough lawsuits to keep you and your pathetic excuse for a firm underwater for the next thirty years. Do you understand me?" She barely pauses long enough for her victim to open their mouth before interrupting, her voice pitching even lower. "I said-- do. you. understand. I want to hear you say it."

Lena hasn't registered Kara's arrival yet, and so Kara shifts awkwardly as she waits, trying not to watch as Lena's lips twist into a cruel smirk. "Good boy." She ends the call shortly thereafter, and starts in surprise when she turns to find Kara standing in her foyer. "Kara! Gosh, you startled me!" She sounds like herself again, but Kara eyes her warily. "Is tonight a bad time? I can come back--" "Don't be ridiculous!" Lena beams, rolling her eyes. "Marital squabbles might be a bitch, but it'll take a lot more than that to keep us from movie night. What's on for tonight? Die Hard?" Before long, Kara is curled up against Lena's side on the couch, sharing a blanket as Bruce Willis yippee-ki-yays across the screen. The call lingers at the back of her mind, and she decides right then and there that if Lena's husband is someone who brings out that side of her.... he doesn't know Lena at all. Perhaps Kara's favorite part of their friendship is their party. It happens by accident-- Kara stumbles across her during a trial period of a new VR. She's an elf this time, and her username is Kieran, but her avatar still looks mostly like herself. "I didn't know you played," Kara says, scuffed her dwarven boot against the ground. She's a little hurt that Lena hasn't ever mentioned it. "I should have told you," Lena admits. "I'm sorry I didn't, but after what you told me about your time in SAO, I was worried if we connected in a game, I... I guess I worried I wouldn't measure up to her. It sounds really silly to say it out loud. I really cherish our friendship, Kara, and I was scared I might lose it if you spotted too many differences between us. Between me and her." Kara smiles, and throws her short, but strong arms around Lena and squeezes right. "Not possible." After that, they're inseperable in the VR world. They try new games together, and the nature of Lena's position grants Kara beta access to countless games still in development. They explore entire worlds together, and Kara finds that Lena needn't be worried at all. She is Lena. The Lena Kara loved in Aincrad didn't stray far from the template of her creator's personality and fighting style, and in VR Lena comes alive in a way she doesn't in the real world-- as though anything could top that. In VR Kara watches Lena lead raid parties with expert precision, sharp and intense but also warm and inviting. More than once Lena helps inexperienced players level up, and shares the secret spawn points for creatures that drop rare items. Kara misses Lena-in-Aincrad, misses what they shared together, but she loves this Lena, the whole of Lena, with her entire being. Eventually, they beta test ALO together, by virtue of the fact that Lena's husband headed the development team that produced the matrix for it. It's a world that rivals Aincrad in beauty and scale. Better yet, it allows magic use, and every race has the ability to fly. One day, they spend an afternoon simply flying through a rainstorm, dodging lightning bolts and collecting thunderbells to smith armor with. Somewhere between the rain on her skin and laughter that gets swallowed by thunder, Kara simply stops and watches as Lena loops into a tight corkscrew to snag an escaping ingot. Her grin is as bright as the lightning, and when their eyes meet Kara's chest tightens at the heated expectance that opens Lena's features into something intimately familiar. Before either of them can speak, the in-game alarm alerts them to the end of their scheduled session, Kara immediately wakes and rolls to her phone. I love you. She almost hits send, but the phone buzzes in her hand before her finger can tap the button. Not a bad way to spend the last day of beta, Lena texts, with pulsing dots following to warn of an incoming note. I think that might be my favorite quest so far. Catch you next rainstorm? Kara deletes her previous message. Launch Day is marked on my calendar. Can't wait. The pulsing dots appear and disappear several times before Lena's next message finally comes through. You're my favorite. Kara rolls over, clasping her phone to her pounding chest. As she drifts off to sleep, those three words sear themselves across the back of her eyelids. You're my favorite. --- "So when will you be back online?" Kara asks over the phone almost a month later. The ALO launch is coming up, and their standing date (it's not a date) looms in the back of Kara's mind. Across the line, Lena sighs. "I'm not sure." Lena's work has kept her busy since their night chasing lightning. They've barely spoken, let alone lunched or gamed. "Were still on for the ALO launch, though, right?" Silence answers her. In a rare moment of petulance, Kara pouts. "Lena, you promised." "Yeah," Lena breathes. "Yeah, you're right, I did. At this point it looks like I might be traveling that day, but I'll try to reschedule some things. I don't know how much time I can spare though." "That's okay!" Kara chirps, grabbing at the compromise with both hands. "I just want to see you. I miss you." "I miss you too, you have no idea." A rumble of voices on the other end cuts their time short. "Sorry, I have to go," Lena says. "But I'll do what I can, I promise." "Okay. See you then." From that night on, Kara counts down the days. When Launch Day dawns, Kara logs in immediately. She waits for hours, selecting an avatar that looks almost like herself. In fact it's a dead ringer except for the white feathered wings that fold up snugly against her back, and unfurl between the slats of her armor. As she waits for Lena to log in, she experiments with her new wings (during beta, she'd chosen fairy wings), and revels in the power of every stroke. She feels the most like she did in Aincrad, and it feels like coming home. But as she waits, the faces who greet her aren't Lena's. She passes on joining other survivors for a commemorative hunt, even as the sun dips below the horizon, and in her heart she knows Lena won't make it. Still she waits. Just in case. When she finally logs out, Kara texts Lena, but sends only a frowning emoji. Then she turns it off and goes to sleep, determined to let whatever apology Lena sends sit unopened until she wakes. But no response is waiting for her when she gets up the next morning, and none comes for the entire week that follows. That week spreads to two, and then three. Kara's disappointment shifts to irritation when she assumes Lena is trying to avoid her after missing the launch, but then snaps to concern when even her calls go unanswered until her voicemail is too full to record any more. Something is wrong. She calls Lena's office, her assistant, sends countless emails, but gets nothing except a cagey brush off from Lena's assistant. When Kara goes to L-Corp herself, she's rebuffed at the door. "Orders came down from the top, Miss Danvers. You're no longer permitted in the building." "What? That's ridiculous! Lena wouldn't--" "You'll have to take that up with her, ma'am." "I'm TRYING." But to no avail. Kara gets nowhere, and is left bewildered and hurt and afraid for Lena who she can't quite believe would cut her out so abruptly. Alex doesn't have any advice to give her, except to be patient and keep trying. So all Kara can do is log in to ALO every night, and watch her friend list, praying that Lena will log in. She never does. Then, one night, Kara receives an anonymous message in her inbox. She doesn't know how a player could send an anonymous message, as the privacy on her inbox is set to friends only. Nevertheless, she opens it. "Meet me tomorrow night at 1am." It includes a National City address. She doesn't need Alex to tell her it's a bad idea. But her gut tells her it's about Lena-- maybe even Lena herself-- and so she goes to the location at the designated time with her heart in her throat. It's not Lena. Rather, it's her assistant, Jess. "Come with me," Jess tells her. Kara obeys, and after a furtive drive through the city, Jess leads her into a nondescript building that has more locked doors than Fort Knox. Finally, Jess swipes her security pass over the final sensor, and pushes into a room filled with medical equipment. For a moment, Kara sees her own hospital room, when she woke up from her SAO coma, filled with the same equipment. She's had this dream before. But the figure lying prone in the sterile bed isn't herself. It's Lena. "Oh my god." "She logged in the morning of the ALO launch," Jess informs her, her voice quiet. "She cleared her schedule for it. But she never woke up, and when we reviewed the game data, it never showed her syncing up to the game." Lena's features are slack inside the visor of the NervGear. When Kara takes her hand, her skin is cool, and waxy, like it isn't even human. But it is. Kara recognizes the scar on Lena's wrist, from a soldering accident when she was twelve. "I don't believe them," Jess murmurs. Kara blinks. "What?" "The new Nerv models are designed with multiple redundancies after the SAO incident. If she didn't connect, Lena would have woken up instantly." "Is it possible it could have been tampered with?" Jess shrugs. "Maybe. But the logistics of doing so without Lena noticing just aren't feasible." Kara regards her solemnly. "It sounds like you have an alternate theory." "It would be easier to alter the game data than tamper with the gear. Someone involved with the game's development would have easy access and ample opportunity." Someone involved in the game's development? Like... "Her husband?" "He's already assumed her seat on the board as interim chair. And he's already proposing changes Lena vetoed earlier this year. There enough members who agreed with Lena's veto that they've resisted him so far, but it won't be long before he wears them down." Rage burns low in Kara's belly. Bastard. Gritting her teeth, she meets Jess' gaze. The woman's face is well past angry-- she's exhausted, and at the end of her rope. It's clear that Kara is her last hail mary. "I'm going to lose my job the moment they find out I brought you here," Jess warns. "After that, I won't have any access. But I can't help her from here anyway." "You think she's trapped in the game," Kara surmises. Jess nods. "My guess is there's a backdoor that lets them control a small area of the game. To avoid detection by the moderating algorithms, they've probably built it into the context of the game-- an uncharted area that only becomes available after completing a legendary quest." Or clearing the final floor boss, Kara thinks bitterly. Her hand tightens on Lena's limp fingers. This is SAO all over again, except this time... This time, Lena is alone. "I've been searching every second I spend at home, but haven't found anything," Jess continues. "But I'm certain the answer to waking Lena up is in the game itself. That's why I reached out to you." Kara's head lifts sharply, surprised by the admission. Jess returns her gaze solemnly, her features hard. "If anyone can beat a broken game from the inside, it's you."

previous / next

#supercorp #sao au #angst #the plot thickens #supercorp endgame #does this count as slowburn?

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thought-42 · 4 years

Text

Clone Wars fic Day One

So @stoppit-keepout gave me 'Abdicate' as a prompt word, and this sprung forth, but SK I promise I will write you something else for a fandom you're actually in. Meanwhile, please enjoy the first chunk of a very random modern au featuring cody and Obi-Wan being goddamn disasters. Hopefully there will be a new slice of this universe every day until New Years, but who the hell knows.

Obi-Wan meets Cody at the Big Brothers Big Sisters Christmas party. He's there with Anakin, who has just been kicked out of another foster home and is clearly feeling celebratory as a result. Obi-Wan has given up asking about the experiences Anakin has that lead him to prefer group homes or sleeping rough, but he can make some educated guesses.

Ahsoka and Plo are there as well, having shown up early along with Wolffe to set up the decorations. They're all showing off the official adoption papers to whoever will stand still long enough to read them, and Wolffe and Ahsoka don't say anything to each other without including "sister" or "brother" somewhere in the 'address while Plo looks on like he's never realized his life could be this perfect.

"Hey, big brother," Ahsoka says, "is your cousin coming? I think Kix will like him."

"They'll be here as long as Rex's car can make it," Wolffe says. "They were going to pick up Jesse from his grandma's, so they might get stuck in bridge traffic."

"Rex's car is held together with literal duct tape," Anakin explains in an aside to Obi-Wan. "I keep telling him I can fix it, but he won't let me."

"I didn't know Rex's brother was going to mentor Kix," Obi-Wan says.

"It's not official," Ahsoka says.

"There will be a proper introduction," Plo assures him. "Cody has already been approved, but you know how Kix is."

"Smarter than anyone they've paired him up with?" Obi-Wan says, calmly. He's rather defensive of Kix, even not having a particularly close relationship with him. He's had to train himself out of his impatience with people who can't keep up with him, and he can appreciate Kix's unwillingness to waste his time. Qui-Gon would scold him for such thoughts, but Qui-Gon is currently half way across the country at some sort of plants and yoga retreat instead of spending the holidays with his wife or his step-father or his not-really son and the child who worships the ground he walks on.

It's fine. Obi-Wan isn't bitter. Tahl is spending Christmas Eve drinking wine with her coworkers from the library, and Obi-Wan and Anakin are here, and Christmas Day they'll all trek across the city to Dooku's disgustingly fancy mansion for an awkward Christmas meal and criticism of their life choices. At least with Qui-Gon absent everything should remain civil. Unless Anakin's teenaged bravado has developed further in the past year. Obi-Wan is doing Anakin the favour of pretending to believe him when he says he doesn't care about Qui-Gon's absence. He suspects Anakin is doing the same for him, which is uncomfortable for a whole host of reasons.

"I think Kix and Cody will get along," Wolffe says, tongue between his teeth as he carefully glues googly eyes on a felt snowman. Obi-Wan catches Plo snapping a photo, clearly amused.

Obi-Wan lets himself get dragged into the cookie decorating catastrophe happening on the other side of the room, and he remains entirely engrossed until Mace claps his hands and shouts, "Pizza's ready, I need two volunteers to go across and pick it up, who's going with Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan throws up his sugar-coated hands indignantly. "What have I ever done to you, Mace? Am I not a delight, a breath of orderly, reliable, and charming fresh air—"

"I'll go," someone says, and Rex appears out of nowhere to shove Obi-Wan toward the coat wrack. There's a dark-haired man already there, snow still caught on the collar of his jacket, clearly not having been inside long enough even to settle in.

Obi-Wan sighs dramatically for the entertainment of the younger children, but the way he wipes the icing off his hands on Mace's jacket is entirely for himself. The dark-haired man, Rex's brother, he has to be, frowns severely at him. Obi-Wan smiles brightly.

He pulls on his coat and winds his scarf around his neck and over most of his face.

"I'm Obi-Wan," he says. "And yes, this scarf was a gift and I will be guilted terribly should I not wear it."

"Cody," he says. "I'm Rex's brother?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan says. "I had guessed as much."

"Present from your grandmother?" Cody asks, holding the door for Obi-Wan.

"The scarf? No, no, my... semi-absent father figure, actually. His step father bought him a book on knitting as a teenager and he has somehow maintained the habit without improving his skills over the past thirty years."

"Ahh," Cody says, uncertainly. "So have you been involved..." Cody waves a gloved hand uncertainly. "With this, I mean— this is the first time I've been to any sort of event—"

"No, no," Obi-Wan says, understanding the question because it is exhaustingly familiar. Because clearly only people with biological nuclear families have healthy and ideal childhoods. "No, I only got involved a few years ago. Qui-Gon, my... father, met Anakin at the food bank. Anakin was there with his mother and Qui-Gon was volunteering, because sometimes he remembers that he grew up rich and has week-long bouts of frantic guilt-induced philanthropy. Anakin became quite attached to him, and when his mother passed away we spent a great deal of time helping him through the fallout. Naturally, Qui-Gon lost interest shortly after, but by then Anakin's social worker had gotten us involved in BBBS."

"I presume he hasn't improved at emotional intelligence with age, either? Given his absence."

Obi-Wan laughs, startled. "Not at all, actually. And you, what brings you here? Did Rex wear you down?"

"He told me about Kix," Cody says. "Admittedly this isn't my first choice when it comes to giving back to the community, but I wouldn't feel right knowingly walking away from a job for which I'm uniquely suited."

"It's not a job," Obi-Wan says, sharply.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "You're right."

They cross the intersection in silence. None of the sidewalks are shovelled and Obi-Wan swallows down his irritated rant.

"I said that poorly," Cody says, hunching his shoulders. "I only meant that this level of social interaction and engagement with strangers— I'm not good at it. That's all I meant."

Obi-Wan, who has never particularly experienced or understood this sort of struggle, smiles sympathetically. "Of course, very understandable."

Cody's eyebrows go up. "I'm sure. You don't need to lie to spare my feelings."

Obi-Wan jerks open the door to the pizza restaurant harder than he intends to. "I apologize."

"I wasn't offended."

Inside the heat is stifling in contrast to the chill of late afternoon. Obi-Wan huffs a breath through his scarf and steps up to the counter. "They need two minutes," Obi-Wan tells Cody once he's exchanged words with the person behind the counter.

They lean together against the wall, dishwater dull sunlight splashed across the tiles at their feet. A drop of sweat creeps down Obi-Wan's spine.

"You should take your scarf off," Cody says, after a moment, like he's been trying to stop himself.

Obi-Wan blinks uncertainly, then agreeably pulls the scarf of his face, loosening the loops around his neck and unzipping his jacket a few inches.

Cody stares out the window. "Sorry. You're obviously hot," he says. "It's boiling in here."

Obi-Wan doesn't know what to say, given that he has absolutely no reason to have left the scarf pulled up and thus has no leg to stand on when it comes to the oddity of the moment.

Back at the community centre they're descended upon by a rush of children and teens, stacks of pizza boxes snatched from their arms and vanishing into the crowd. Obi-Wan glances over to the cookie table, and is unsurprised to see the lack of progress.

It takes a few seconds and some bouncing up on his toes to find Kix, and when he does it's to see him curled up on a hard plastic chair in the back corner behind the water cooler, cell phone pressed to his ear, his other arm wrapped around himself and looking very much like he's trying to remain calm through an exceedingly distressing conversation.

Cody is standing very still, hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting around and clearly unsure what to do. Obi-Wan, who is a good person, says "Come on, then. While I recognize that it's meant to be the process of decorating the cookies that holds the value, I also am physically incapable of leaving a job half done, and now that the real food has arrived I suspect no one else will be doing it."

"Yes, ok," Cody says, quickly.

Anakin finds them five minutes later, half a piece of pizza in his mouth and a spring in his step. "Rex is gonna let me take a look at his car!"

"I'm glad," Obi-Wan says, and means it. He may not trust Anakin with a lot of things, but when it comes to mechanics Obi-Wan trusts him far more than any "professional".

"you guys should get some pizza before it's all gone," Anakin says. "Hi, by the way. You're Cody, right?"

"Yeah," Cody says. "You're Anakin."

"That's me. And now I'm a little worried that rex talks about me."

"Would you believe me if I said only good things?"

"I accidentally pushed him off the roof of the old theatre last winter," says Anakin. Cody nods.

"We're busy with this," Obi-Wan says, nodding to the cookies. "Besides, the pizza should go to the youth, not to us."

Anakin rolls his eyes. "Whatever, it's food, we're all here, don't make it weird."

"Busy," Obi-wan repeats.

Anakin waves a hand. "Hey, hey, I get it. You're finally getting to experience an extremely stereotypical holiday tradition that you never did when you were a kid, and it's nice because you've been all fucked up with Qui-Gon away."

"What?!" Obi-Wan snaps, incredulous, at the same time Cody says

"That's exactly what we're doing, actually. Couldn't have said it better myself."

Obi-Wan considers upending the container of sprinkles over Cody's head.

#commander cody #Obi Wan Kenobi #codywan #tumblrfic tag #star wars why?

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min30am · 3 years

Text

Does the music you listen to shape your perception of the world?

Immediately, yes. Definitely, no doubt. I pretty often link songs to different times in my life or places or specific events or people. It’s actually more difficult for me not to do that.

Hotline Bling - driving back up del Este, or back to the parking lot for mock trial practice at 5pm. It’s the winter months usually, so it’s pretty dark out at that point. Quick snacks from the local Quickly are always a good bet, or Chipotle of course. Bright classroom lights, hearing the rest of the trial drag on in the adjacent room while the pre-trial attorneys hang out doing nothing really in the room facing the street.

Starboy - we’re in an Uber to the ice rink in Oakland, it’s the evening after Yule Ball. We met at my first ever Halloween party but I’m decently sure I like you; I’d pretty much broken up with someone else that same night, over speaker phone with more than a few friends eavesdropping in our room. Anyway, we’re in the backseat of the Uber and you mention that you really like this song, and you start singing along and it’s cute- cute enough to make an impression. You turn out to be a really really good skater, and you don’t leave my side all night even though I’m an awful one.

Under the Cover of Darkness - first time hanging out with a few people just having a jam session with our mix of guitars. A slightly condescending guy who’s good at solos teaches me a set and decides he thinks I’m a fast learner. Flattering enough.

Out of My League - I looped the Fitz and the Tantrums album that this belongs to that summer that I spent painting the house kokong built at Marcy’s. There was a lot of detailed work that went into it, and I sketched the designs meticulously in pencil before going over it with the metallic paint shades I’d picked out.

You & Me - this particular Disclosure song was really popular but after that one YouTube comment talking about how the highs were screechingly, painfully high, I could never listen to it without being way too aware of that. Thanks, whoever that was.

Location - this was a song I generally really liked when it was in its hayday, but it’s had a little bit of a different flavor and nice comfortable blue bit of nostalgia ever since Eli told me he associated it with me.

High You Are - the height of my Youtube playlist days, barring the AMVs with Linkin Park songs. I had another Odesza song that I linked to this one, Say My Name featuring Zyra. Great times, definitely middle school and early high school.

Tennis Court, Wires, King - all linked to the same person, listening to these songs by the stairs at the far end of the high school on a shared pair of wired earphones after school, blue skies and mild breezes and radiant sun off the metal handrails.

Fell in Love With a Girl - hilariously coincidental lyrics, thanks for this one.

Trndsttr - driving back from the hospital, specifically in the morning after drop-offs at work. It’s cold and not too bright yet, but the sun will definitely be in my eyes on the drive back up toward the fountain intersection. My contacts are cooperating at least.

One Time - that one concert we went to with Kou, pretty spontaneously but it was pretty good. Cool venue too.

My Funny Valentine - listening to this on the bus to Loch Ness, the same trip I believe that we hit heavy traffic on the winding road back toward Glasgow. There’s a beautiful lake at the bottom of the hill that our road spans, lots of the richest green you’ve ever seen in trees. The whole Ella album was pretty popular that trip, and this particular song felt like an inside joke to listen to next to you.

Love Galore - we’re up by the Sutro Tower parked in a little dusty area by a few other cars that made the winding drive up. The view is pretty clear and definitely impressive, we’re trying to identify things and you’ve already finished telling me a long made-up story about how the tower works- which I believed because you, after all, have a masters in engineering.

Foreplay, IV. Sweatpants - it’s first year and we spend all our free time meeting up at night just to freeze our asses off because we’re talking and it’s so easy and so funny and we don’t want to go home. It’s the 2am campanile talks at the bench, where we move at the pace of kdramas. It’s sitting by the now-renamed boalt hall, I’ve never met anyone I clicked with better and I still won’t say I’m in love.

Cheese & Wine - bro forreal your dad’s an asshole. seriously.

TALK ME DOWN - senior year of high school, you’re obsessed with Troye Sivan but he’s pretty good so no one in the car complains. Our friend group is hanging out so often at boba and coffee places and just talking nonstop, we have every class together pretty much and so many small things happen in that last year.

Girls That Dance - that overcrowded, cozy, compact dorm room on the eighth floor. We’re there so often, you always pick me up from mine and we walk or bike down together, sometimes we take the shuttle. Jerry is always there, always greets us and talks to us about his nephew and his life. We have Olay by the mirror near the door, which I discover serves as a bit of a primer and is SPF15. We make ramen and Jess uses your desktop to play games while we watch Netflix movies in your top bunk.

Cardiac Arrest - I, like the monumental asshole I am, make it a point to finish chemistry lab in the morning as quickly as possible so I can be the first person to leave every time. I always play this song as I’m going up those curved wide stairs to take that little bridge back up to the castle on the hill. I almost invariably get back to my room and waste all the time I saved by finishing early.

Liquor Locker - chilling at lab, doing what I’m supposed to be doing between classes or meetings. Dilution calculations are scribbled in my green lab notebook. I’m responsible for many colonies of single-cell babies but at least a quarter of my attention is on the bus tracker while I run the math in my head.

Shutter Island - we’re all at the Vevo Halloween concert together in a gigantic warehouse on the water’s edge. I’m absolutely taken with the singer and thus starts a pretty long infatuation with her music. No one else agrees, they definitely think she was the worst of the night. Fair enough.

GOLD - we’re in the backseat of his car and he and his girlfriend are great. We already had dinner all together that one night before the concert- a vibe check - and now we’re in San Jose to check out a viewpoint where you and I just enjoy each other’s company. It’s our first double date(s) really, and it’s pretty great.

Trois Gymnopédies - honestly, such a great song but I deadass sought it out after seeing it on a sad parrot video. 10/10

Heebiejeebies - definitely love this song but I don’t know if I can listen to anything from this album without remembering how you were so ready to start a fight at that concert. Again.

If We Ever Meet Again - I have really strong feelings of being on a field trip associated with this song somehow.

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huntertales · 5 years

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Part Four: There’s No Turning Back Now. (Clip Show S08E22)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader share a bitter reunion with Castiel after finding the angel beaten and bloody in the middle of the road. While digging through the Men of Letters’ files, they stumble upon an undiscovered film which could be the key to completing the third trial. Meanwhile, Crowley digs into the reader and boys’ past, putting people they saved in mortal danger. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Slight Angst. Word Count: 5,861.

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“So a demon named Crowley is going to kill me in...sixteen minutes."

The words that came out of Sarah’s mouth was something she wasn’t expecting to say this evening. Along with seeing a few faces she met under strange circumstances like this almost eight years ago. You and Sam were welcomed into her motel room after she realized who you were. You had to skip the formal greetings and jumped straight to the reason why you were here in the first place. You didn't bump into her on the street, you came to her motel room for a reason. Hearing the reason come out her mouth made a sense of guilt come over you for putting her in danger like this. She faced the supernatural before because of you. And again, her life was in danger for the same reason why.

You were becoming overwhelmed with frustration and anger from how things were turning out tonight. You already lost two people because of that bastard without warning. You'd be damned if you were going to let him go for number three without a fighting chance. Sam reassured Sarah that it wasn't going to happen, not as long as you were here to protect here. You figured you had a wild guess as how Crowley picked out Tommy and Sarah for his little game. Because of those stupid "Supernatural" books that didn't just exploit your personal life, but the people you saved as well. You guessed Crowley threw Sarah into the mix because of the shared feelings between her and the younger Winchester. All though it was short, it was also sweet. Something Crowley would surely love to destroy for the sake of being a dick.

A knock on the motel room door caused you to jump slightly from the unexpected noise, Sarah sharing the same reaction as well. Hearing that your life was in danger by something more powerful and evil than a spirit of a child put her on edge. You slowly pushed yourself up to your feet as Sam put a hand up for the both of you to stay where you were so he could see who it was. He slowly turned the door handle and opened up the door just the slightest to see who it was. When he realized it was just his brother with some supplies, he opened it wider to let Dean inside. The older Winchester stepped into the room with everything you would need to take on whatever Crowley was about to throw your way in fourteen minutes.

"Sarah. Long time." Dean greeted the woman he hadn't seen in eight years. She managed to give the man a smile from the older man's friendly greeting, considering all that was unfolding at once. He set the belongings down on the ground near where she stood. "What are you doing in Indy?"

"I..." Sarah stumbled slightly over her words, trying to get herself to concentrate on the conversation to answer the man's question. She was a little taken aback from his calm demeanor to the situation that was unfolding. "I was scouting an estate sale for my dad."

"Look, we're gonna put up devil's traps everywhere—the windows, the door. We've got holy water, an exorcism ready to play on a loop, and anything that comes through that door—it’s meat.” Sam reassured Sarah that she was in good hands from whatever kind of trick Crowley was going to pull. You grabbed a loaded shotgun from Dean before Sam grabbed his own, cocking it once for the first shot he might need to take. “Look, I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do. We’ll keep you safe.”

Sarah had only minutes to process this before the real danger was about to begin. You wouldn't put it past her if she was a little bit scared. However Sarah had been through this before, and she came out perfectly fine. "Okay."

“Okay? That’s it?” You asked her with a slightly skeptical look, wondering if she was just putting on a brave face for the sake of it. “It’s totally normal if you want to freak.”

“You’ve done it before.” Sarah said.

You gave her a small smile at the confidence she had in you to protect her life. You and the boys got to work on marking up every window and door like promised. Crowley could try all he wanted to take Sarah down. But you weren't going to let anything happen to her. While Dean spray painted the last window with a symbol to keep the demons out, Sarah occupied her time by sitting on a chair, subconsciously playing with a set of rings on her left hand. You noticed one of them was a diamond ring on her finger right next to her pinkie. It seemed she had gotten lost in the habit to for her to notice you were staring at the piece of jewelry.

“That’s new.” You said, pointing to the ring as a conversation starter.

“Yeah, I…” Sarah forgot for a moment she was playing with it. She looked down at her ring for a second before glancing back up,making eye contact with the younger Winchester when she saw him approaching the both of you. “His name is Ian. He works search and rescue. Guess I have a type.

“Yeah. My belly’s kind of getting hard to hide these days, isn’t it? Sammy here is going to be an uncle.” You patted your rounding stomach as you told her the news that you never got tired of saying. You glanced over at the younger Winchester to give him a smile when he took a seat on the next next to Sarah. “Dean and I are expecting our first child. Still got three months to go.”

“Congratulations. By the end you’ll be wanting to crawl out of your own skin. And you’ll probably won’t get a decent night’s sleep for months once they get here, but it’ll all be worth it in the end, trust me.” Sarah said. You raised your brow slightly in curiosity from her own experience. “I have one, too. Our daughter, Bess—she'll be one in a month."

You couldn't help yourself but smile at hearing how her life turned out after you left, from settling down and having a daughter. Thanks to you she was given the opportunity. All though you always wondered about how things would end up differently if Sarah and Sam pursued each other and acted on their feelings. You always felt as if there was something between them. You looked over at the younger man to see what his reaction was at hearing the news. Sam kept his expression neutral for the most part. You slowly backed away from them when you got the feeling that this was their chance at having a private conversation.

“Have you ever met someone that makes you question everything you stand for? That makes you wonder if this lifestyle is worth the risk of dying?”

It was the question you asked Dean after wrapping up the case you took eight years ago. You found yourself curious to see if he ever had a situation like his brother had. Was there a woman out there that made him want to quit hunting for good and settle down? Sort of like how Sam tried to do with Jess. He answered you with a simple “Once.”

Once upon a time Dean crossed paths with someone who gave him an influx of emotions he hadn’t felt before. They made him feel happy by just being themselves. They were funny and yet had a caring touch to them. He wanted to see her next to him when he woke up. Spend a boring life with her until they croaked due to old age. Someone broke down his walls just enough to take a peek at the man for who he truly was, not who he was pretending to be. And they weren’t scared at what they saw.

After a few years of harassing the man and trying to figure out who this mystery woman was, Dean told you the truth when he landed himself the girl. It was you this entire time. Dean found himself falling in love with you when the both of you met when you were teenagers. You were still clueless about the supernatural world, and for a small while Dean was able to be a teenager. He spent a month getting to know you and feeling things he only heard in songs and witnessed in movies. You were his mystery girl that made him, even for the slightest second in his life, that made him want to forget all about the things he grew up to want. Until all of it was taken away and you were thrown into this.

Dean felt stupid for thinking that it was possible for someone to love him and get away from this lifestyle. But you made it work. You broke all of his fears. Because that’s what you did—you defied people’s expectations. Dean slowly fell in love with the strong headed, sarcastic and smart woman who cared a little too much for strangers. Laughed at horrible attempts at flirting and let him be himself. Your love story wasn’t a classic one. It was messy and flawed. Screwed up at times. But it was yours. He might not sure where it all started, all he knew how it was going to end. With a wedding ring on your finger and a baby. Sort of like how Sam wanted all of this time...and Sarah got.

You couldn’t help yourself but feel the slightest twinge of sadness for how things worked out for Sam when it came to romance. Every woman he’s ever loved slipped away from him. It started off with Jess and ended with him having to cut out Amelia from his life to keep his family from breaking apart. Every chance he thought he was going to be lucky at having a normal life away from hunting, hell, getting a girlfriend—life always liked to take them away. Sarah was the only one who he never thought about taking a chance with her. You wondered if he decided to visit her again, go on that second date things could've ended up differently.

Maybe it could have been Sam who slipped the ring on Sarah’s finger and the both of them had a daughter who was turning one next month. They could’ve been reunited shortly after meeting because you pushed him into seeing her. Instead they were together because of circumstances due to a demon who liked to toy with your lives. Sarah settled down someone that wasn’t him and had a child. You and Dean never planned on starting your own family, but here you were, just a few months shy of bringing a new life into this world and occasionally talking about wedding bells when all of this was over. And all Sam could do was sit on the sidelines and watch everyone achieve what he secretly wanted.

The man wasn't envious of how things always turned out for him. He wouldn't deny that she was still beautiful as he remembered. Seeing her brought up the same feelings he had for her when he first met her. But she was okay. Sarah was happy, she had a normal life because of him. And that’s what really mattered to him. Because knowing she was safe was the best feeling of all.

“And what about you?” Sarah asked the man,

“Me?” Sam chuckled at her question. He thought about it for a moment, wondering if things had changed in the past eight years. He shrugged his shoulders. “Pretty much the same, I guess.”

“No, you’re not. You’re not the same.” Sarah said. Sam gave her a slightly confused expression at what she saw that he couldn’t about himself. Sometimes it takes an old friend to see things about yourself that don’t seem like progress to you. “Look, it’s been years, and I can’t even imagine the things you’ve been through. But I don’t know. You just seem...more focused, confident. Like...like you know what you want.” It was the truth. Twenty-two year old Sam was still teetering on the edge of what he wanted his life to be. Quit hunting for good or stick with the only thing he knew. It took a while, but he figured it out. "You grew up, Sam. I do miss the old haircut, though."

Both shared a laugh from the memory of Sam's short and shaggy hair, different compared to what it was now. While the moment was sweet, it was short lived by the sound of the motel phone ringing. Everyone's attention was drawn over to it when it began. You tightened your grip around the shotgun as Sam and Sarah jumped up from the bed. Sarah seemed to have learned from her past experience with the supernatural when she pulled a gun from the waistband of her jeans. You looked at the clock to see it was 11:59, you were seconds away from Crowley’s little game that he wanted to play with you. Dean did the honors of answering.

“Five...four…” The demon counted down the time. You cocked back the shot gun and took your stance, ready to take on whatever he was about to throw at you. Dean quickly reached for his own weapon as the time dwindled down to zero. "Trios...Zwei...Uno."

You watched as the neon green numbers on the clock turned into midnight. You were ready for whatever Crowley wanted to throw your way. Demons. Hellhounds. All of it you faced before in your time. But all of it was so predictable. You would never thought Crowley would throw a wild card into the game and hit with a twist you weren’t prepared for. Devil traps and shotguns filled with salt weren’t helpful for someone who was choking on air.

It took you only a second to realize what was going on when you heard a thump to the floor. You quickly looked away from the window and onto the floor to discover Sarah was on the ground. Her hands were wrapped around her throat as she struggled for air. Something was causing her to choke. Crowley wasn't fighting with bodies. The bastard was fighting with magic. Sam quickly went to the woman's aide, trying his hardest to get her to focus on him so he could figure out what was happening to her. But all Sam knew for sure that this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Sarah! Hey!” Sam called out the woman’s name as he got her on her back, trying to steady her as she struggled to breathe. “Can you hear me? Sarah!”

“She’s dying, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Crowley taunted you over the line.

“You son of a bitch!” Dean growled at the demon form what he was doing.

"Son of a witch, actually.” Crowley corrected the hunter. “My mommy taught me a few tricks.”

“It’s a spell.” You realized. “Find the hex bag!”

You and the boys wasted not a second longer in searching for that little bag you saw a few times in your days of hunting. Crowley must’ve had to have one of his goons hide it here somewhere in the room before Sarah checked in. A drawer, underneath the mattress. “I thought of sending in a few of my bruisers, really letting them go to town. But then, well, trial one was kill a hellhound. Trial two was rescue a soul from the pit. So, from here on, I’m gonna keep everything hell-related—demons, et cetera—away from you. I’m baby proofing so you don’t get your hands on something that can hurt you, Y/N.”

You tried to block out Crowley’s voice as he kept on speaking through the call. You went through everything you could get your hands on. You searched through Sarah's purse, her bags. Dean threw off every cushion in hopes it was jammed into a small space. Sam checked through the seats. But you weren't finding anything. "Plus, I just thought it seemed fitting. From what I understand, Sammy took that bird’s breath away.”

The bathroom had nothing in it far as you could tell, you checked underneath the sink and even behind the toilet. Sarah still remained on the floor as she started to grow blue from the lack of oxygen she was getting. “What’s the line? Saving people, hunting things—the family business. Well, I think the people you save, they’re how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you’ve caused—the one thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes.”

Crowley was hitting you in ways that nobody had before. You were always so used to taking the hits. Having your own life be put in danger. He got tired of the routine. Because you were getting comfortable with it, you knew what to expect. Because it was starting to get old. So he decided to spice it up a bit, hit it where it would hurt a hunter the most—the people you saved before. The stories of a happy ending where the victims get to live happily ever after. Crowley decided he was going to rewrite the ending to something more fitting. Something more realistic.

You knew there was no way Sarah was going to survive unless you found that hex bag. You knew Crowley had you cornered exactly where he wanted. Defenseless and watching as your legacy died right at your feet. Sam quickly rushed back to Sarah’s side, trying to get her to hold on just a little longer until you figured out a way to save her. Time was running out.

“They’re your life’s work, and I’m going to rip it apart piece by piece. Because I can, because you can’t stop me, and because, when they’re all gone, what will you have left?” Crowley asked an important question he thought you should be thinking about while you stared at the person who you were adamant on saving. Who was lying on the ground, lifeless. Dead. Sam tried his hardest to somehow see if there was any chance at winning this, but it was too late. “The three of you want to those people alive. Most of all, Kitten wants to have her happy ending. The one she thinks she deserves. Where she can walk into the sunset with her beau and be better than the mother who raised her to the thing growing inside of her. You honestly think you’re going to escape this? That you’re going to get to be like Sarah? Take a look at what you did to her.”

You wanted nothing more than to tell Crowley to shut his mouth. To go screw himself. But you were afraid if you opened your mouth all that would come out was a defeated sob. Because you knew in the back of your mind that he was right. "She was a mother. A wife. She was everything you want to be. Everything you think you get to have because you saved a few lives along the way. Let me tell you something—you can take away those pretty black eyes, you can pretend you’re human like the rest of the people in this world. But you know deep down you’ll always be a mutt whose capable of nothing more than killing everything you love. You destroyed my plans darling, and now I’m going to destroy yours. You can’t run anymore from your punishment.”

You forced yourself to shut your eyes and inhale a deep breath before you gave him the satisfaction of hearing you being pushed to your breaking point. Crowley was getting back at you for the messes you caused. Killing your demon side that he worked so hard to get free from the cage. Killing his hound. Freeing Bobby from hell. Dragging him into the apocalypse by accident. All of it was your fault. You kept poking at the beast. It was only a matter of time until he got his revenge. “There’s only one way out of this. I want complete and utter surrender. The tablet, the trials—you’ll give them up, or we’ll keep doing this dance. Your choice, my darlings.”

Crowley ended the call after giving you his terms for how this was going to end. You heard the dial tone linger in the tense air for a few seconds as you stood over Sarah’s dead body, Sam not too far as he kept staring at her. Crushed at what had become of her. The one who got away. Only to end up like the rest. Dean couldn’t take it. He found himself grabbing the phone, and out of anger, he threw it against the wall. The impact caused it to explode in tiny pieces of plastic and wires. Along with something you spent Sarah’s last few minutes on earth trying to find. The one thing you needed to save her life.

You took a few steps forward and looked down at the little hex bag. Crowley had been calling you throughout this entire journey he was putting you through. He kept what you were looking for right under your nose. You sank down into the seat Sarah had occupied just a little while ago, staring at that stupid hex bag. For the first time in a long time, you felt your stomach grow heavy and your shoulders sank down in defeat. You were backed into a corner with no way out. You felt helpless, defeated with guilt at the three people you let down. But worst of all...you felt hopeless.

There was no amount of lying or persuasion that could fix this situation from how it ended. You couldn't bring Sarah back from the dead. You let Abbadon slip away. You had no chance at completing the last trial without a demon. You didn’t save anyone’s lives tonight. Instead, you made the world a little worse than it was before.

You were stupid to think this was going to end up in a victory. It always end up the same for the people you try to help. All you do is leave collateral damage. Let the people you try to help down. And, most importantly, everyone you've ever cared for has died because of your actions. You honestly thought things were going to turn out differently for you. But it never does. Your family history was like a broken record, repeating the same formula over and over again. It happened to your parents. It happened to you And now it was going to happen to your child.

Bess was going to grow up without a mother. Ian lost his wife. Because you couldn't do your damn job and fix a hex bag. Crowley was right. You were the reason why this stuff happens. Why everyone in your life pays the price with their life. You were a bad person through and through. And nothing in this world, not even God Himself, could change that.

+ + +

The drive back home to the bunker was silent for the most part. You were too tired to say much of anything, Sam was too guilt ridden and upset to participate after what happened. Dean tried to ease the silence with the radio, and every so often asking if either one of you needed anything Maybe stay at a motel for the night to get some sleep. Get something to eat if you were hungry. You shook your head at every offer. The exhaustion of the past few days was starting to catch up to you. All you wanted to do was go home. And think about the only option you had left on the table.

Three months of hard work was gone, just like that. Risking your life and going to hell. You would say for nothing. But that felt wrong. If you tried to keep this going the people you saved would pay the price. And yet if you didn’t shut the gates of hell this would keep happening. Crowley would always mess with you. You were stuck. But the right choice was clear.

Sam got out of the Impala and into the bunker without saying much of anything. You thought you heard him mumble something about wanting some alone time. You respected his wishes and made your way into the building you left almost twenty four hours ago, the tape player and files still spread everywhere, a subtle jab at the hopeful you that left with confidence you’d be coming back to finish this once and for all. Only you arrived back feeling worse than you had in a long time.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do. The idea of having a long shower seemed like a good idea. Slipping into bed was a comforting choice as well. You just wanted to be alone. But you had a shadow behind you that was curious about your well being. Dean meant well, and you loved him, but you really didn’t want to tell him how you felt right now.

“You okay?”

You took a few steps towards the table, letting Dean's question go unanswered for a few seconds. Your fingertips grazed along the edge, tempted for a moment to grab everything your father had worked so hard on and rip it to shreds. Sort of like how you did with your mother’s journal when you found out what she did to have you. All these years you thought he was victim to your mother’s selfishness. Turned out he was part of the reason why you were screwed up as you were. Your parents loved messing with demons so much they made a monster.

You dropped your hand back down to your side and let out a sigh, turning around to face Dean after avoiding his gaze for the entire ride back. You showed him the defeated look on your face that you were able to hide during the car ride. "What do you think?"

“Look, I know it’s bad right now, okay, but we stick to the plan.” Dean was upset for how things turned out. He didn’t want Sarah to die the way she did, at the hands of Crowley after promising her that she would be okay. But he was focusing on the bigger picture, wanting to make sure no one else fell to the same fate. “We shut down hell.”

“How, exactly?” You questioned him.

Dean always was the one who came up with the plans and executed how to save the day. You wanted to know how he could find a loophole in Crowley’s ironclad promise. He thought it was simple as snatching a demon when they weren’t expecting it. “We get a demon—”

“You heard Crowley. He’s not gonna let one near us,” You cut him off with his plan that looked perfect on paper. And it sounded nice when he said it out loud. But it wasn’t logical. There was only one way out of this. You were just too naive to think it would come to this. “and without a demon all we can do is sit back and watch people we know, people we saved, die like Sarah.”

“So what are you saying?” Dean asked you.

“I’m saying…” You hated the words that were about to come out of your mouth. You spent months fighting with him to let you do this while you were in this condition. Pregnant with his kid, adamant you were going to be okay at the end of it all. Maybe somehow you could figure it out to make it right. But you couldn't have the blood of the people you saved on your hands for the sake of your child's life to have a better one. It wasn't who you were. "Maybe this isn't one we can win. Maybe we should just take the deal."

You couldn't lie to Dean about what you thought the right thing to do was. You knew Crowley didn't pick Sarah just because she had meant something to Sam once upon a time. Her death hit close to home for you as well. She was a mother and a wife. Things that you were hoping to accomplish once this hell business was over with. You wanted so desperately to get out. Why was it fair for you to have your happy ending, and not her? And if you tried...the possibilities were endless at what could happen. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest and stared at Dean with complete vulnerability for how you felt right now. All this time you had comforted him through this process, that it was going to be okay. Now that you weren't sure if it was a possibility, you felt like part of you failed him.

“We’ll figure this out. We will.” Dean reassured you that it was going to be okay. But you had a hard time believing his words when every part of you was telling you it was a lie. You’ve never faced something like this before. Not only were you closing one part of your life, you were adding another. Something you haven’t really mentally prepared yourself for. “Sweetheart, we’ll get it done. We’ll kick it in the ass like we always do. Now, are you with me?”

"I don't know."

Ever since you started the trials you were sure that this was the right thing to do...that it was you who was supposed to do it. You wanted to change Dean's mind when he confessed that all he saw was a bloody and bitter end to his life. But it didn’t mean the years he had left needed to be that way. You wanted to give him something that he never had. Happiness. Normalcy. A chance at being a father when the attempts failed him in the past. You thought for so long that what you were doing was okay. But you were starting to wonder if you were lying to yourself to justify your actions. Everything you witnessed in the church…

"What do you mean you don't know?" Dean asked you, but from the tone of his voice, it was more demanding. And even a little bit scared for how you were suddenly acting.

"I mean...I don't know if I can do this. All of this." You gestured with your arms to the open air, as if you were trying to point out what was bothering you the most. Dean gave you a confused look at what you weren’t telling him. You let out a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm tired, Dean. I've been putting on this face for the past six months that I'm capable of closing the gates of hell. Being a mother. And I thought I was. But...we're having a kid, Dean."

“I know, Y/N.” Dean said. He had the past three months to come to the conclusion that your life was about to change forever. The both of you were starting a family. Yet his words didn’t make it seem like he viewed the situation from where you were standing.

“You don’t understand what I’m trying to say. We're having a baby, Dean. Someone who is going to depend on us for everything. Change its diapers. Feed it. Care for it. Calm them down when they start crying. Try to figure out how to make sure they’re happy. In three months we're going to be responsible for raising a human being that needs someone to make sure they’re loved. Happy...most importantly, safe.” You told him everything he had realized a long time ago. But the way you were talking made it seem like you weren’t prepared for it. Like it was suddenly hitting you all at once that this was happening. It was real. “They’re not even born yet and I feel like I’m already failing—”

You felt your anxieties linger on the tip of your tongue when you felt yourself momentarily distracted by something strange. You furrowed your brow slightly when you felt it again slightly harder than before, which denied the idea of what you might have thought have been. You placed a hand on the lower part of your belly to try and see if you could get it to happen again. You stared at a spot on the floor as your expression began to change. Suddenly you were full of concentration as you pressed on your pregnant stomach, as if you were trying to feel for something. Dean found himself starting to grow concerned at how you were acting.

"Y/N, what's—" Dean was about to ask you what was wrong, however he stopped when you reached for his hand and placed it on part of your stomach where it had been just moments ago. The both of you remained there for a moment with your hand on top of his...until Dean felt something ever so lightly hit his palm. Dean looked up at you with slight astonishment at the sensation he hadn't quite felt before, not sure if it was just a quickening the doctor had told you about. Unless it was something more. "Did they do what I just think they did?"

"They're moving." You found yourself whispering the words to him, your lips stretching into a faint smile. You let Dean's hand remain on your stomach, the three of you together, making you realize the reality of your situation. "This is really happening...We're having a baby."

“We’re having a baby, sweetheart.” Dean repeated back the words that were starting to settle in your mind. You were still upset about the things that happened, but in the moment, you just wanted to see the light at the end of the tunnel. "Screw what that bastard said. All right? Because you told me yourself that it's not about us anymore. It's about this kid. We're going to give them the best life they deserve. What we deserve. And nobody can stop us from doing that. But I need you with me. Are you?”

You slowly nodded your head, reassuring him that you were on board with this. While you were still upset about how things turned out and the people you couldn’t save. You remembered that stupid line Crowley mocked you with as Sarah laid dying. Saving people, hunting things. The family business. You hunted monsters for the past eight years, saved the world from the apocalypse and faced up against some nasty creatures. You even been a monster for most of the journey. But you were ready to retire.

You had gone this far in the trials, there was no turning back now. You were closing the gates of hell. And nothing was going to get in your way.

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @albot-e // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings

Message me if you would like to be added!

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cheetahsprints · 5 years

Text

Smiles

@heckyeahharrisco

harriscofest 2019 prompt: void

“Smiles Through the Void”

This one point of comforting light keeps him tethered, keeps him bound so he would not float away into unreachable space.

~2k words

[ Be my friend, hold me Wrap me up, unfold me I am small, I'm needy Warm me up and breathe me ]

[ Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found Yeah, I think that I might break Lost myself again and I feel unsafe ]

The world is big. Every day he shrinks. Invisible walls grow until he has no hope of scaling them. There are questions without answers. There are answers without questions. He can’t reconnect the threads unwinding around him.

Existing is painful. It's confusing, exhausting, and difficult. Was it this way before - or has it been the same forever? He can't recall. He can't even try. Something in him claws at the hollowness, searching and searching, a futile endeavor. His anger and sadness are trapped inside, unable to be expressed. He can copy others, but he can't comprehend them in any way beyond basic surface level.

"What's my name Harry?"

Name. He doesn't know name. He doesn't know Harry. The frustration swirls in him, but it's trapped like a tiger pacing in a small cage. There's a beat, a mist that passes through, reminding him of someone who threw things. He stares at his palm.

"Harry?"

That sweet voice. It digs into his chest and makes a home there. He continues staring at his appendage, stuck in his loop.

"It's okay. If you can't - if you don't know. You can tell me."

"You're the. You're. One. The one... with."

He's the one with the hair. The one who can do anything. The one holding his heart. Something about the hair - curly, soft, thick, strong, scented, tickling hair. He knows it in his gut, even though he can't form the - the what? His mouth doesn't move further. The one with the hair leans forward and makes noises into his chest. He touches the hair and curls his fingers into the strands.

Smiles.

He likes it when the one with the hair looks at him, talks to him, smiles at him. Sometimes, his own lips twitch upward in an imitation. He feels hot inside, and his heart beats faster. This one point of comforting light keeps him tethered, keeps him bound so he would not float away into unreachable space. What does it mean?

Cold.

His hands are always cold. He rubbed his palms together, ineffectively, and wonders what’s missing. The marker is a comfort. For as long as he can still grip the marker, he writes on the board. The one with the hair will hand him the marker when he drops it and smiles at him. One day, he can’t grip it again. There’s no smile. It gives him a chill.

In quiet moments he wants to give into the force collapsing his mind. He wants to let the dark matter run rampant. He wouldn’t mind if the speed force consumed him. The one. He is always there to pull him out. There’s a smile, a glance, or a touch that prevents him from falling into nothing.

The fast one is too loud. He’s too something. His skin prickles around the fast one. Get away. He walks away. The one with the hair wraps a hand around his elbow and guides him in a different direction. Even if he wanted to, he would be helpless, unable to struggle. Yet, he is not afraid.

Blue swirls. He likes them, coming into existence so sudden and just as quickly disappearing. He doesn’t know what they are, exactly, or how they happen. He does see that the one with the hair makes them. He pulls him through them into a new place.

People look at him. He looks back. What do they want? What do the lines in their faces mean? They do not smile much. When they do, it isn’t the same as the one.

He reaches for the one. In response, fingers slip through his. He can’t tighten his hand, but the one holds him tight enough for both.

“Pretty,” he says.

“Huh? What’s pretty?”

The one with the hair looks at him, no smile. There are lines bunching up in his face, around his eyes and mouth, that shouldn’t be there. He failed. It takes him a long moment to remember how legs work. He walks over. His hand twitches, wanting to smooth them away, but he can’t force his arm to move. Slowly, he drops his face into the other’s hair. He can’t think, he doesn’t know, but he can feel, feel, feel. The one strokes the back of his neck. He doesn’t move until the one makes him. He’s smiling, but something isn’t right about it. Why?

He runs into things. It hurts. He can’t stop. He plucks at objects that often have the one with the hair rushing to take them away. When he bleeds, the one helps him keep it inside. The one helps him eat, shower, get dressed. He can manage finger foods, even after he can no longer manage the drinks. He can push blocks around and press buttons. The one will smile and murmur encouragement that he can’t understand, but he can feel it, fuzzy in his chest.

He breathes. The one with the hair smells good too. He stares at his fingers. The one tries to show him how to hold things. He can rarely manage it. Wait. Was he good at it once? His eyes burn and feel heavy. There’s wet heat sliding down his cheeks. The one rubs it away and puts his lips there.

The one says, “Thank God you remember how to use the bathroom. If I had to change you I think I’d cry. Not that I haven’t been… nevermind. It makes sense, since it’s one of the earliest skills you learn. God. No one else seems to give a fuck beyond pitying you… I know they have other pressing issues but still.”

The rumble of the one’s voice is soothing. He doesn’t comprehend what the one is saying, but he smiles and nods. He doesn’t know what crying is. The one should smile. He should always smile.

“You. Need. Smile. More? No cry,” he pleads. The one smiles in response. He’s successful. He adds, “So - saw - so - saw - so - sorry.”

“It’s not your fault Harry. I mean. It is, kind of. But. We’ve all been desperate and made stupid mistakes.”

“Not.”

The one sighs, “Yeah.”

The one pats him on the shoulder. He mimics the action. His palm feels warm after. He holds it against his face and closes his eyes.

He wants to do it again the next day, but he doesn’t remember how. Eventually, he forgets why he wanted to touch the shoulder of the one with the hair. He feels like he shouldn’t be allowed.

“I can feel,” he blurted out of the blue one day.

There’s a jolt. Stars and light dance around him, and he can distinguish shapes. He knows what they are, what they mean. What it all means.

“Tell me what you feel,” the one insisted.

“You.”

“Can you… possibly be more specific? I know it’s hard but -”

He had enough control of his fingers to brush them on the one’s on the table.

“I feel you. All you.”

“Got ya. I mean that - I can’t make sense of that - but thank you for sharing it with me.”

He gasps at the information onslaught, the absolute flood of knowledge and memory. As his memories reach his mid-adulthood, it starts to slow severely. He distantly relives events he would’ve rather kept pushed into the deepest parts of his mind. Memories return, the science, math, physics, language, lags behind more and more down the line. It’s there, he can feel it, as of yet lacking the stimulation to be unlocked.

In any case, he gasps and drinks it in like a dehydrated person escaping the desert. He remembers his name. Harrison Wells. Harry. Nicknamed so they could avoid calling him Dr. Wells, actually Thawne, the conniving thief. He remembers Tess, Jesse, so many others from his Earth, Barry, Iris, Wally, Joe, Cecile, their adventures, everything.

Some parts are not so good, like the war, losing his wife, his daughter’s independence, the horrifying aspects of fighting evil.

He remembers Cisco. He remembers being in love with Cisco.

Cisco’s brilliance shines through the darkness and reaches for him. Harry reaches back across the formerly endless void and finds balance again. Perhaps, it’s proper balance for the first time in ages. Cisco. He reaches for Cisco. They talk, they touch, and Harry feels so warm and at home with the skin contact. His genius hasn’t fully returned. It’s not ready. He’s not of a mind to care yet. He needs to process.

Cisco is his life, his heart, his air. Without Cisco, he’d still be nothing. He quickly understands there are other factors involved. It doesn’t matter. He has to say it. He didn’t have the words before, not even before, before. They wait to be unfolded from his tongue.

“I love you too.”

Technically, Cisco didn’t speak of love, not in the words. Harry can see it in Cisco’s eyes and heart it in his voice, but he could always feel it in his touch. Even when he knew nothing else, some part of him could feel it and depend upon it. Home. I feel you.

Cisco reacts in a nervous manner, silent and stiff. It isn’t the reaction Harry wants or expects after everything that’s happened. His heart aches. His mind whirls. Harry considers leaving. He has a memory flash of Cisco wiping his tears and kissing him tenderly on the cheek. He doesn’t know what holds Cisco back now. Harry just wants to hold Cisco. He can’t go, not now.

Cisco does breach him to see Jesse. They have dinner. Cisco reaches to help Harry before correcting himself. He blushes and tucks his hair. Jesse raises an eyebrow, and she wisely doesn’t ask or comment. They talk and laugh, and it sparks hope.

Weeks passed, Harry spending most of it Cisco’s Earth.

When they’re alone, Harry repeats, “I love you Cisco. Don’t forget that.”

Harry forgot. He never wants to forget again, a single thing about Cisco. He wants to have his center, his gravity. Else he would become lost.

“Right.” Cisco fiddles with his tools. Harry yanks it from his hands, his soft, warm hands, and throws it across the room.

Cisco whines. “I was using that!”

“I meant it. I know I’m not alone in this -”

“Is this you? Or is it because I - I was the only one who really took care of you. So this -”

“You were the one. But I fell in love with you long before I was brain blasted, Ramon. It merely took being stripped of every single thing except feelings for me to accept it for the beautiful thing that is and stop being terrified.”

“Oh. Okay.” Cisco chews on his bottom lip. He abruptly changes the subject, “How’s relearning coming along?”

Harry realizes he’s not, out of the two of them, the one truly most scared.

“My brain is surprisingly receptive,” Harry replies, playing along for the moment. “Snow says it’s got more active, open pathways than I probably had as a teenager. I’m breezing through the coursework. It might never be the exact same, but in some ways it’s almost exciting.”

“Nice.”

Harry stares at him with impatient expectations. Cisco doesn’t move. Harry takes Cisco’s hands in his own. He strokes the knuckles, focusing on the sensation of skin. He wants to kiss where his fingertips make contact, but he hasn’t yet received permission for that kind of behavior.

“You don’t have to speak the words if you’re not ready. Just let me know, in some way.”

Cisco takes a shuddering inhale. His eyes are shiny. Harry may not like it when he cries. Regardless, if he does, Harry will be there for him. Cisco was there for him, too.

One of Cisco’s hands slides free. His fingers lightly grace Harry’s cheek. They card through his hair. Low he murmurs, “You’re the one.”

Harry smiles. A smile forms on Cisco’s face a second later, brightening the room and his heart. Cisco kisses the corner of his mouth. Cisco rests for a moment, his breath gusting across Harry’s chin. Harry waits patiently until Cisco surges upward, and they claim each other’s mouths. Cisco plunders him slow, prying his mouth open with his tongue. Harry grinds his fingertips into the warmth of Cisco’s shoulders. Harry feels cherished and grounded.

He rolls the memories of the progress of his relationship with Cisco through his mind over and over, from the tense animosity to the all-consuming love. He wants to tuck them away into a box where they’d be safe from harm. Cisco sucks on his tongue and bites his lip before he completely pulls away.

“Damn.” Harry mutters, “This... this connection we have... is amazing, Cisco. What were we waiting for?”

“Tell me about it.”

“I will. In detail, because I can,” Harry responds. He tucks his face into Cisco’s neck. His hair tickles Harry’s cheek. “If you want me to do that.”

“Oh God, yes.”

He moves to wrap his arms completely around Harry, and they just breathe.

Together.

#harrisco #my fic #harriscofest2019 #the flash S4 #i know i'm going backwards in time #S5 who? I don't know her TT_TT

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