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sameheart-sameblood · 3 years

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Live While We’re Alive

(gif by @rex-is-best)

pairing: commander wolffe x f!reader

summary: you thought being a newly recruited civilian doctor to the GAR was hard enough until you developed a hopeless crush on Commander Wolffe

words: 2.8 k

warnings: mature, some suggestive talk, mutual pining, medical exams, co-workers to lovers, a doctor having inappropriate thoughts about their patient

a/n: I started writing this awhile ago and then lost all creative motivation but I've been in a Wolffe mood the past few days and sad we didn't get to see him in The Bad Batch so here we are. I'd like to apologize to my doctor dad and all medical professionals everywhere lol. Also, I had intended for this to end in smut but then got lost in feelings so there mayyyy be a chapter 2. We'll see ;)

read on ao3!

You want to fuck him. It’s been decided. This realization couldn’t have come at a worse time, though. You’re surrounded by Jedi and Clone Officers in a very important meeting detailing your next mission. But you only have eyes for one of the men and he’s currently standing at the head of the room giving a briefing to the holo of Master Yoda. It’s a testament to Commander Wolffe’s presence that you barely notice the little green Jedi Master he’s conversing with. Well, his presence and his extreme handsomeness.

When you’d first met him, you’d been truly intimidated. The other women you worked with nodded in understanding, whispering they had been thrown off by his cybernetic eye and prominent scar. But that wasn’t it. You’d noticed those things, but that wasn’t what made you uneasy.

It was the fact that he took one look at you and seemed to see right into your soul. You couldn’t explain it but you felt like with just a glance, he could tell your deepest insecurities. And stars, did you have a lot of those.

You had worked your way up through the medical field and had started your residency at the biggest hospital in Coruscant. After your training ended, you had secured a permanent job there. It had been difficult, to say the least. Though you knew you were qualified, even more so than most of your male co-workers, you still doubted yourself often.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had come to visit you one nondescript Thursday afternoon, telling you of the need for doctors in the GAR. He said you came most highly recommended when he was searching for recruits but still, you thought a mistake had been made and that someone soon would realize and send you back to your normal life. It was a recurring nightmare you’d developed in the past few weeks that shook you from your sleep.

You had agreed to join the GAR, sympathetic to the cause and wanting to do your part. The next few weeks had consisted of you getting your bearings and meeting the rest of the staff at the base . Kix, the clone medic in charge, had helped you learn the ropes and had introduced you to all his brothers. At first, you had been overwhelmed by the sea of identical faces. As the weeks had gone on, you’d learned everyone’s names and they’d made you feel welcome, like one of their own.

The Commander and you had crossed paths several times. He was polite but distant. Not like you blamed him. He had more important things to do than exchange drawn out pleasantries. With each run-in, though, he seemed to be making more of an effort to be personable. Unfortunately, each conversation left you looking more and more like an idiot. Or a di’kut. The boys had been teaching you some Mando’a.

You were a medical professional, a well-respected doctor and yet Wolffe made you feel unsure of yourself. It had been so long since you’d had a crush that you didn’t realize this was what the beginning of one felt like.

*******

As you sit around the war room table, you feel even more like a school girl. Instead of paying attention to whatever Master Yoda is saying, you’re transfixed by Wolffe’s face. The hazy blue light from the holo reflects off his features, making him look ethereal. His scar looks even more prominent and you blush, remembering how often you’ve wondered what it would feel like to let your fingers trace it. And his lips. They’re moving, responding to whatever the Jedi has said. They’re mesmerizing and now you’re thinking of what it would be like to kiss him. Or even better yet, to have those lips pressed against the plushier parts of your body.

You continue to stare until you realize his face has turned to you. It probably only takes you a second to come back to reality but it feels like an eternity. Somehow you’re able to respond to the question.

“Yes, Commander. All medical personnel are prepared for an 0800 liftoff. Kix will take his team with the 501st and I’ll have my staff along with the 104th. We’ll reconnoiter once we’ve landed on Hisseen.” The rest of the table nods, moving the conversation along. Wolffe stares at you for a moment, a hint of a smirk on his lips. You avert your gaze, finding the table a much safer object of your attention.

The discussion wraps up and Wolffe stands at attention, puffing his chest out, before Master Yoda disappears. Once again, your eyes are drawn to him. You’re not sure how but he makes something so mundane look indescribably attractive. Wolffe’s head turns in your direction but you’ve already bolted from your seat, hoping to cool down in the hallway.

Kix pushes through the crowd to get to you. “Hey, Doc. How’d the meeting go?” You shrug. “Nothing new to report. Just making sure we’re all set for our campaign.” He’s shifting back and forth, a sort of glazed look in his eyes. You realize he’s not paying particularly close attention. It’s the look of someone asking you something just so they can request a favor in return.

“Hmm oh yeah, that’s nice. Say, Doc, do you think you could cover for me for a few hours? I have some urgent business to attend to.”

“Since when is playing Sabacc with Fives and the boys urgent?”

“Since I remembered how terrible they are at it. I can make a real killing playing against them.”

You laugh. It’s true. You’ve come to love those men but a lot of them are really horrible at the game. You’ll need to give them a remedial course if you have any downtime on Hisseen. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” He rewards you with a huge grin. “Nothing hard! A few higher ups coming in for their physicals. Just the usual. Make sure they’re in tip top shape to get shot at by some tinnies.”

He gives you the list. It’s only a handful of men but the last one on it makes your blood go cold. “Commander Wolffe needs a physical?” Kix is oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Oh yeah, but he knows the drill. Honestly everyone can do it themselves at this point. We’re basically there to oversee it as a formality.”

You swallow down your apprehension and nod. “Sounds easy enough. Go have fun. And take it easy on them, will ya? Let them keep a little of their dignity intact” Kix just grins and shoots you a wave as he runs off.

*******

Your first few appointments go just fine. The officers are professionals and Kix was right, they could do these routine physicals with their eyes closed. You give them all your seal of approval and settle in to do your paperwork before your last, most anticipated patient arrives. The forms in front of you hold no interest and you find yourself checking the chrono every few seconds.

It’s not easy but you manage to finish your work. You set it aside and take steadying breath. Five more minutes and he’ll be here. You scold yourself. The Commander has never been anything but professional. You’re the one thinking these very unprofessional thoughts.

And you’re a doctor, for kriff’s sake. Your patients should be able to come to you without worrying you may be fantasizing about what they look like naked. But these are uncharted waters. It’s your first time having to deal with a patient you’re this attracted to. They really should take your medical license away.

Just as you’re thinking of packing it all up and handing in your resignation to the Jedi Council, a knock at the door snaps you to attention. Well, here goes nothing. You scold yourself once again for checking your reflection in the mirror before answering the door.

You had tried to adopt a passive, professional look to your face before greeting Wolffe but it must not have worked. “Everything alright, Doc? I’m not early, am I?” You shake your head.“Not at all. Punctual as always, Commander.” You beckon for him to come in and take a seat. You close the door, then sit across from him at your desk.

Your datapad hums to life and you busy yourself opening the appropriate forms you need to fill out. The weight of his eyes is heavy on you and your cheeks heat up in spite of yourself. You push on through as best you can.

“Well, Commander, how are you feeling today?” There’s that ghost of a smirk again but it vanishes so quickly you're not sure if you imagined it. “I feel like a million credits.” You giggle despite it not even being that funny. You’ve got it bad. “Glad to hear it. This should be quick then.” You gather your equipment and get to work.

First, you take his weight. Then, you listen to his heart. You press the stethoscope to his sternum, thankful you can do this over his blacks. He observes you the whole time. “And what about you? How are you today, Doc?” You risk a glance and meet his eyes. That was a mistake.

“Me? Oh-um just fine. Maybe not like a million credits but a few hundred at least.” You trail off dumbly but he humors you with a chuckle. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard that sound from him before. It’s like music to your ears. “Anything I can do to help? You do look a little flushed. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?” You avert your eyes again.

“No. I’m alright. It’s just, uh, hot in these uniforms. The coarseweave doesn’t breathe.”

“You sure? Maybe I should be the one giving you a check-up.”

You realize he’s toying with you now.

“That won’t be necessary, Commander.”

You move on to check his lungs. “Breathe in for me.” You move the stethoscope to his chest, then move it around a few different spots on his back. “You can call me, Wolffe. If you’d like.” He breathes in every time, not even needing prompting, ever the dutiful soldier, even when he’s teasing you.

“I would like that. Thank you, Wolffe.”

Next, you measure his blood pressure. You’re shocked that it’s so low. He sees the look of surprise on your face. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all. The opposite, in fact. Your pressures are great. I just thought with your lifestyle they might, understandably, be a bit higher.”

“What kind of lifestyle do you think I have?”

You’re backtracking as quickly as you can. “I just meant, your life as a soldier, it must be extremely stressful.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. But you don’t get to be a Commander by not being able to handle the pressure.”

“Of course. But even so, if you’d like some stress relief techniques I can suggest some.” He hums as if really thinking it over. Thankfully there’s only one part of your exam left. Which is good because you’re not sure how much resolve you have remaining.

“Everything looks great. I’ll just do a head and neck exam and then I can send you on your way.”

You need to touch him for this part but you stop yourself, hands hovering but not quite meeting their destination. You feel like once you touch him, really feel his skin under your fingers, there may be no going back.

Wolffe sees your hesitation, then slowly reaches out to take your hands. You watch with wide eyes as he guides them to his neck. He looks up at you innocently enough but you can tell he’s laughing internally. You try to reign in control of the situation.

“Sorry, I just got distracted.” The Commander studies you but this time it’s in earnest. “Are you nervous? This’ll be your first time in an active war zone, right?” You had been anxious but not about that. But now that he mentions it, yeah, you honestly don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Yes, I’m not sure what to expect. I guess you could say I’m a little scared.” Wolffe gently holds your chin, directing you to look back at him. “I won’t lie. It’ll be overwhelming and frightening. Battles can seem never-ending. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You’re staring into each other’s eyes and you don’t want to stop. But then he’s clearing his throat and gently removing his hand from your skin. You realize you’ve been resting your own hands on his shoulders this whole time. “Thank you, Wolffe. I do feel much better knowing you’ll be there.” You offer him a smile, hoping it conveys just how much you appreciate him looking out for you.

You begin your exam, gently kneading where his neck meets his shoulders, checking for any anomalies. Then you move to his throat. The throat you’ve so often been distracted by. It’s featured prominently in your daydreams. You move your hands along it, under his jawline. Having a man this powerful baring one of the most vulnerable parts of his body to you is intoxicating. Focus, di’kut.

Everything feels normal except for some knots you find resting right below the surface of his smooth skin. “Lymph nodes feel good. You’re a little tense, though. But I bet it’s from that bucket you have to wear most of the day.” He hums in thought. “True. But even so. Maybe you could give me some of those ideas for stress management?” He looks up at you with big eyes. There’s mischief in them but something else. Vulnerability?

You gulp audibly. “Of course. There are a few that work particularly well, um, like deep breathing techniques, going on walks, talking with friends, meditation, journaling, physical activity…” You’re rambling, fighting a losing game against your resolve. Wolffe thinks on it. “Physical activity seems like a good place to start.” His hands come up to gently cover yours that are still resting on his neck.

The sensation of his calloused fingers on your skin sends shivers down your body. You close your eyes, feeling the last of your self-control topple over. “Wolffe,” you whine “We shouldn’t…” He immediately drops his hands, worry etched on his face. “I’m so sorry. It’s just- I thought you wanted-.” He cuts himself off, snapping up to his feet and to attention. “Doctor, you should report me to General Plo Koon for immediate disciplinary action.”

Dank Farrik, you’ve just ruined everything.“Wolffe! No, I’m not reporting you to anyone. If anything you should report me for being so unprofessional.” His shoulders relax a bit but he still eyes you as if you’re a live grenade that might explode at any second. “What do you mean?” You sigh in frustration. This isn’t how you wanted to confess your feelings to him.

“I…want you, Wolffe. The second I realized that I should have asked to be re-assigned to a different battalion. Instead I thought I could push those feelings down and continue to do my job. Looks like that was a mistake.” You hang your head, avoiding his piercing gaze. He’s silent for just a moment but it feels like an eternity.

“So, you want me and I want you?” You nod your head, ashamed, as he continues. “Then what’s the problem, Doc?” Your eyes snap to his, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Isn’t it wrong of us?”

Wolffe sits down on the exam table again, genuinely thinking on it. “I don’t see why. We’re both consenting adults. We don’t work directly with each other- I report to General Koon, you report to General Kenobi- so there’s no real conflict of interest. The worst we’ll face is a little ribbing from the boys if they find out.”

You raise your head to look him in the eyes, needing to make sure he’s serious and that this isn’t some twisted joke. What you find staring back at you is hope and promise. He senses your trepidation and gently takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry if I came on strong. But the thing about this life is that there are no guarantees. Tomorrow isn’t promised and so I figured I’d rather go for something, someone, that I want and have my heart broken rather than regretting my inaction.”

Your eyes roam the scars on his face, evidence of just how true his words are. You’re heading into active battle tomorrow. One or both of you could be injured, or worse. You step towards him. He spreads his legs so you have room to get closer. You rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

His hands come up to caress your sides. You take a shaky breath. He questions you softly. “Cyar’ika?” Ah, now that’s one of the new words you definitely remember. His vulnerability makes you ache and the decision to hand your heart over is an easy one. “You’re right, Wolffe. Might as well do some living while we can.”

*******

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #instead of becoming a doctor like my family wanted i decided to just write about being one who's slightly inappropriate instead #tcw fanfic #tcw #allie writes #my writing

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aalbedo · 3 years

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tartaglia x injured!reader

request: Hello! How about scenario where character offers help to injured!gn!reader, who is very mistrustful of and reluctant to accept it? I smh love the dynamic "no I don't want your help or anything to do with you but I don't really have a choice". And yeah, I feel like Tartaglia fits it well though you may choose whoever you feel like T v T

format: two-parter (part two here)

ship: tartaglia x reader

tags: reader is the traveler-ish (a completely separate character from aether and lumine, but still the traveler, does that make sense?)

warnings: blood, mildly graphic depiction of injury, stitches and needles

words: 1951

notes: this request awoke something in me, i feel like i could’ve written an entire 70k words fic on this if i had the energy. im sorry anon but i kinda went off the rails with this one hfjdkhfd i hope you still enjoy it. also yeah the header is mildly fucked up because i don’t have the energy to find a better png ok.

You fell to the ground, placing your hands right in a small puddle of your own blood, while a ruin hunter laid on the ground, defeated. Your legs had given in, as a sharp pain hit you through your entire left thigh. There was a large cut on your pants, through which you could see a long, bloody, wound on your skin left by the mechanical monstrosity. It wasn’t too deep, but damn if it hurt.

You squeezed your eyes closed, and let out a loud groan. Reaching a hand into your bag, you pulled out the antiseptic solution you always brought with you, and found out that the bottle was empty. You rummaged more through the bag, looking for a numbing cream, an analgesic potion, even just a remnant of a bandage, anything that could help. Nothing.

Panic started settling in your chest, you were completely alone, in the middle of Lisha, where Hilichurls could attack you at any moment, and you were injured just enough that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone run away or even fight. You laid down with your back to the ground and covered your face with your hands, as your palms suffocated another loud groan.

You would have to crawl all the way back to the city, or until you found someone willing to help you before fainting from the slow, but consistent, loss of blood. Or worse, dying from shock.

Suddenly, you heard a voice in the distance yell “hey!” Then a second time, with a clearly worried tone in their voice. The pain in your leg made it almost impossible for you to focus on recognizing who that voice belonged to, but it didn’t matter - you were about to finally get some help. You kept your eyes closed as you raised a hand and waved it, showing whoever your savior was where you were.

As you didn’t move from the ground, you heard steps, quickly getting closer to you, until you could feel the presence of someone right above you.

“Oh thank the Archons, I’m completely out of-” you opened your eyes and were met with two bright blue irises staring into yours, and all of the sudden you recognized the voice from before.

“Did that ruin hunter hit you?” Tartaglia was perched right next to your injured leg, already starting to open a backpack that you didn’t recognize as his. He moved his eyes to your thigh and reached out a hand towards it. You swiftly moved the leg away from him, forgetting that it would make it hurt even more, and whimpered when the pain grew.

“I don’t want help from a Harbinger, least of all you” you spat out as you slowly sat up and used your hands to back away from him.

“Stop moving, or you’ll make it worse,” he said plainly as he stood up and followed you, while you kept backing away ignoring the pain through your leg.

“I’ll lose a leg before I let the fatui help me.”

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just watch you crawl all the way back to the Harbor.” He crossed his arms. Oh, he thought he was being funny?

You kept backing away with your arms, until you felt something hard hit your back. A rather large rock was blocking your way, and you would have to crawl around it, and the young man laughed, slowly walking towards you as he took his gloves off and put them in a pocket. You tried moving sideways, but he was quick to crouch down and grab you by the ankle, the one on the injured side, right when you moved.

You inhaled and closed your eyes as a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Are you out of your mind? That hurt!”

He kept your ankle pinned to the ground. “Don’t move,” he ordered. He used his free hand to carefully move the ripped fabric of your clothes out of the way, and get a better look of your wound. You started to feel lightheaded as you saw him tear the fabric further.

You felt some sort of damp cloth on your skin,figuring it was being used to clean the blood off your injury. Tartaglia was being so careful that you could barely feel it, it seemed like he had done this a million times before. You closed your eyes, placing a hand over them, and tilted your head forward, suddenly feeling overcome with dizziness.

“You’re losing a lot of blood. If you hadn’t moved, it would not be this bad right n-” he interrupted himself and he called your name. “You still with me?”

“Mh- huh-uh” you started feeling uneasy. You opened your eyes slightly and caught a glimpse of the wound and immediately looked away. So much blood.

“Stay awake, don’t close your eyes again.” You heard a ruffling of fabric, the damp cloth wasn’t on your skin anymore. “Tell me about the Archons.”

“What?”

“Tell me all of the Archons’ names and their elements,” he repeated. You couldn’t figure out why he wanted you to tell him, but you followed his order, keeping your eyes away from your wound, and instead fixating on the grass beneath you. You were feeling too dizzy to protest, your only choice was to trust him, despite all of your instincts yelling at you to get away from him.

“Okay, there’s... Barbatos, god of Anemo.” You heard more fabric rustling coming from him, but you refused to look at what he was doing.

“Yes, then?”

The dizziness was still overwhelming, but you managed to keep talking, “Morax, god of Geo.” Clinking of glass, probably bottles. “Tsaritsa, goddess of Cryo.”

“Mh-mh.” He sounded… focused. What was he doing?

“Baal, goddess of- Fuck!” The skin around the wound started burning, and so did the wound itself. You bit your lip hard and groaned as the burning kept going on and on, your skin was itching and for a split second it was almost unbearable. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Antiseptic potion,” he replied plainly. “I had to find a way to distract you or you wouldn’t have let me use it.”

“Bastard.” Your skin kept burning, but you slowly got used to the pain as you watched the clear potion sizzling over your still open wound.

He barked a laugh, “I’m trying to help you over here, you’re very welcome.”

You looked at his hands as he skillfully kept cleaning your wound, now there was way less blood coming out and you were starting to feel slightly more at easy. He lifted his head and looked right into your eyes.

“It’s not too deep, but it would probably be better if I stitched it.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Of course I have, you think these healed themselves?” he asked, pointing at the seemingly long scar that started from the base of his neck and went down under his shirt. “At some point you have to learn how to stitch them up yourself.”

You exhaled deeply, still keeping your eyes on his. You realized that his irises resembled the starconches you had seen laid in the sand of Yaoguang Shoal’s beaches.

“Do you have an anaesthetic something to make the stitching hurt less, at least?”

He looked into the bag, moving things around, as if he had no idea what was actually inside the backpack. So it definitely wasn’t his.

He shook his head, pursing his lips slightly. “No, sorry.”

“It’s…” you pondered over it. You would probably have to go all the way to Bubu pharmacy to get an anaesthetic, and on the way there you might lose even more blood. “It’s okay.”

From his backpack, that you hadn’t realized was laid on the ground by your feet, he pulled out a small tin box, and from the box he took out an interestingly shaped needle, recurved like a crescent moon, then a pair of tweezers and a thread so thin you could barely see it.

Just by looking at the needle, you felt uneasy again. “Are you sure we can’t go to the Harbour and get help there?”

“We can do that, if that’s what you prefer, but I would have to carry you - I doubt you could walk at all right now.”

Somehow, the embarrassment of other people seeing you being carried, bridal style, by Tartaglia was stronger than any pain you might have to go through to get these stitches done.

“Fuck it, do it. But be quick.”

“I will try my best,” he said, and his tone sounded genuine to you. You still couldn’t believe you were trusting him like this, after everything he had done to you. “Try to think about something else, focus on anything but the stitches, it’ll hurt less.” He passed the thread through the needle’s hole with surprising skill.

“Okay, uh-” you watched him hover the needle over your skin, probably thinking about the fastest and least painful way to do the job. You moved your gaze from the open would to look at his face, and his expression seemed calm enough to put you somewhat at ease.

His lips were slightly parted and you noticed that he was biting his own tongue, the amount of focus he was putting into helping you was so intriguing to you, you could have never had imagined that he would be so… caring. At least not to you.

You suddenly felt the needle prick through your skin and you whimpered slightly. “Sorry,” he quickly said, before using the tweezers to make the needle pass through your skin and grab it again on the other end.

He repeated the process a few times, slowly pulling the thread every now and then to make the stitch tighter. You observed him the entire time, his eyes quickly darting from one spot to the other, his nose and mouth breathing at a steady pace. You saw him scrunch up his nose a few times, probably to release tension.

Each stitch hurt, you could feel the entire needle pass through your skin and come out again every single time, but you didn’t protest at all, and instead focused on counting the freckles on Tartaglia’s nose bridge, watching the muscles under his skin move every time he swallowed, and carding your fingers through the grass, accidentally ripping some every now and then.

“Done,” you heard him say in an unexpectedly cheerful tone. “I have some bandages, but I don’t think they’re enough for this large of a cut. Though, now that it’s stitched up, it’s probably safe for you to move, and I can help you get to the Harbor where you can buy some numbing potion and bandages.”

You looked down at the wound, and to your relief the stitches looked like they would hold together pretty well. “Sure, I think I can hop for a while, if you hold me.”

He picked up both his and your bag, putting them over his shoulder, then reached out a hand towards you and you realized just how bloody his hands were, as well as his clothes. You grabbed it with your own bloody hand and slowly stood up, placing your weight on the healthy leg. He placed your arm around his shoulders and put his own behind your back, holding you up.

“Ready to go?”

“Mh-mh.” You started walking in the direction of the Harbor, hopping on one leg while Tartaglia held you up.

“Whose backpack is that?” you tried asking.

“Honestly? No idea.”

“What were you doing here in Lisha, anyway?”

“Just some Fatui business, don’t worry about it,” he quickly dismissed your question.

“Always so secretive.”

#reblogs and comments very much appreciated !!#pats my own back #yeah this is good #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #tartaglia #genshin tartaglia #genshin childe #childe #so many fucking tags #blood tw #needles tw #injury tw

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mello-jello · 3 years

Note

Stupidity, bathroom, fish, accident, taken

Okok so this became part 2 of this prompt: Stiletto, gun, flower, gym, ice cream please read that one first lol

Levi and Hange continued seeing each other at the gym at absurd hours. Levi had never been so intrigued by a stranger before. He wanted to learn more about her. He thought about her all the time.

Hange gave no more hints as to what her night time activities consisted of, and Levi didn’t push further. Seeing that gun in her car had freaked him out a little and it reminded him of the time he spent living with Kenny. Levi had been exposed to far worse than a handgun at a young age. So he kept asking for that dinner date.

“Eventually,” or “When I get my next day off”, was her usual answer. They would settle for curbside dates of whatever fast food was around. They held hands and stole quick kisses but Hange could never stay long enough. She did give him her WhatsApp number so they could chat more, but she hardly answered it anyways. Just quick simple messages saying, “hey will you be at the gym tonight?”

“Yes”

“See you then”.

All was relatively fine, until one day Hange stopped coming.

Levi started dawdling around the gym, hoping she would show up. He would go there twice a day, just to see. He checked his messages incessantly. Nothing.

Months passed.

Levi was just on the verge of letting it go when he received a message.

“Dinner tonight?!”

His heart spasmed and he immediately replied, “What happened? Are you okay? Where have you been?”

He clutched at his phone as he anxiously watched the three little dots do the dance that indicated Hange was typing.

The dots stopped.

Levi held his breath and only let it out when the dots started moving again. Finally, she responded with, “126 Sasageyo Blvd. Reservation for two at 7:15pm”

“Tch” he scoffed at his screen.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

“Looks like I’ll be getting some time off. Delete this number.”

She can’t be serious? He can’t seriously be considering going? It was infuriating how little this infuriated him. Anyone else and he’d have told them where to shove it. But this was the mysterious Hange, and curiosity got the better of him. A quick Google search told him it was a very fancy restaurant a few kilometers away in the next town over. He would need a suit just to be seated.

Something about this whole situation put him on edge. It had been a while since he had to use it, but Levi thought it best to bring his knife with him. If anything, he just wanted answers.

Dressed in his best black suit, Levi entered the restaurant. The host asked him for the reservation name and he froze. He suddenly realized he didn’t even know her last name. Before the interaction became too awkward, Hange waved from the table, beaming at him.

Levi thought she looked very classy. He had only ever seen her in gym clothes. She wore a long, black lace dress with long sleeves that suited her nicely. However, she was wearing an eye covering. He was determined to not let the butterflies in his stomach distract him.

“What happened there?” Levi gestured to her eye as he sat down, not bothering with a formal greeting.

“Oh, I was in a little accident, but it’s no big deal. I have to wear the patch for another week but my eye is expected to make a full recovery!” She states proudly. “Anyways, tell me about Isabel! Last time we talked, she was waiting to hear back about her university application. Did she get in?!” Her energy almost matched what he was accustomed to. Almost.

Levi narrowed his eyes as he studied her. The changes were so subtle that anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed them. She seemed tired. Her lower lip was swollen. She had a thick layer of makeup on, but he could tell she had bruises along her neck and he suspected there were more elsewhere, due to the way she seemed to favour her left side. There was also something in her expression that he had never seen before. Stress, worry.

“What happened to you?” Levi was direct. He wasn’t leaving tonight without an answer.

Hange pursed her lips as she scanned the menu “I think I’ll have the fish, what about you?”

“You owe me an explanation… Or else I’m leaving.” He said flatly. He meant it, even though he really didn’t want to.

Hange lowered the menu and looked up at him through her long lashes. “It won’t happen again. I’m out,”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Listen, Levi… you must suspect by now that I don’t- uh didn’t- have a regular job”

“Tch, no shit”.

Hange chewed her lip and stared while she silently deliberated. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s over. I quit… I want to start over. With you.” She smiled at him and reached across the table to offer her hand.

He took her hand in his, tracing along her knuckles, silently saying he would very much like that. Levi just silently stared down at their hands, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He met her gaze again, but Hange’s countenance fell and for a moment, Levi thought he had hurt her feelings or something. But he noticed her eyes were locked onto something behind him. He started to turn around when Hange suddenly gripped his arm with both hands.

“Excuse yourself to the bathroom.” She instructed, her voice suddenly dark and urgent. Her one eye bore into his with such intensity as if to say, “trust me.”

Levi swallowed hard but did as he was told, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Once he was across the room, he looked over his shoulder back at their table. Hange had stood up to greet the tall blonde man who had approached. To an outsider, their body language displayed that of a close relationship, but Levi could sense the tension.

Levi checked the bathroom stalls for feet and was relieved to be alone. He looked at himself in the mirror. He should just leave. Whatever situation Hange was caught up in, he didn’t need to be involved. He really should just leave. He waited another few minutes, debating with himself. He was indeed interested, perhaps even smitten, but she seemed to be wrapped up in something sinister. He should definitely leave.

He was deciding if he should at least say goodbye when suddenly the doors burst open. Two unknown men rushed him. Levi was quick to draw out his knife and defend himself. He felt his muscle memory kicking in, as if he never stopped needing to fight. He slashed one of their thighs open and knocked out the other with a blow to the head. Stepping over their bodies, Levi calmly readjusted his coat jacket and tie, regaining his composure. He was leaving. He didn’t even look back at the table. He kept his eyes locked forward as he dashed to the exit.

He was almost to his car when he heard the familiar click of a revolver and he knew it was pointed at him. Levi slowly raised his arms and the stranger led him to an alleyway.

A moment later, the tall blonde man rounded the corner and thrusted Hange to the ground. She stumbled but regained her stance quickly. Two more men stood behind them, blocking the only means of escape, their guns trained on the two of them. Hange and Levi both kept their arms up.

“Zeke, he really isn’t a concern for you,” Hange turned to Levi. “Levi, I’m so sorry.”

“Not a concern?” the blonde one who must be Zeke spoke in an eerily calm and quiet way. One of his men handed him a shotgun. “I have a hard time believing that, considering the lengths you went to in order to protect him, dragging him all the way out here, so far from home”.

Levi raised an eyebrow at Hange.

“It was my own stupidity," she admitted. "Us meeting at the same place at weird hours… It was suspicious. But Zeke, he's not involved, I swear!"

Levi was still just as confused when Zeke let out a roaring laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Levi's neck.

"Oh you really don’t know, do you? That’s rich.” Zeke pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “You’ve really been so charmed by this man that you didn’t even realize he’s an Ackerman?" Zeke laughed again. “Hange I thought you were smarter than that”.

Hange’s jaw dropped as she turned to look at Levi in disbelief, "You're… an Ackerman?"

Levi knew his uncle was involved in some shady shit, but this was far worse than he ever imagined. “Yes”.

Zeke’s laughter turned to cackling as Hange closed her eyes in anguish. She let out a shaky breath. When she opened her eyes, Zeke handed her his shotgun, no longer worried about her. Jaw clenched, tears spilling down her cheek, she cocked the gun and pointed it at Levi’s face.

“The Ackermans,” she spat through her teeth, “Have taken everything from me!”

#levihan prompt game #levihan fanfiction #levihan

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pogueit · 3 years

Text

First Aid Kit

Paring: Pope Heyward x Reader

Summary: You have an accident while attempting to do a new trick and Pope is the man for the job.

Warnings: blood ofc and general first aid stuff nothing too graphic tho!!

WC: 1,994

A/N: There's not enough Pope content!! SO I made some!! Pls enjoy some Pope and Y/N action!

THE GIF IS NOT MINE IT BELONGS TO @rue-bennett !!!!

Saturdays are not meant to be boring, but this scorching afternoon there was nothing to do. John B. went on his weekly date with Sarah, JJ scored a date with a kook he's been eyeing, and Kie was forced to go to a gala on the mainland, so it was just you and Pope alone in the chateau. He had been studying all day for an upcoming chemistry exam he has first thing Monday morning. You tried all day to get his head out of the books, but he was not having any of it. It wasn't until the late afternoon that you got him to go outside with you. Even though his nose was still deep in the piles of notes at least he was outside. You were skating on a horrifically uneven stretch of concrete that was oddly slathered in front of the chateau. Every time he could hear the wheels pop upwards he would snap his eyes to you, cheering you on when you stuck the landing. You were glad that he was far enough away to not be able to see how red your cheeks were. You've had a massive crush on the boy ever since Kie introduced you to the group. Your mom had just moved your ass down to the banks to get a fresh start far away from your poor excuse for a father. She managed to quickly score a job at The Wreck (where you were also forced to work part-time) as head chef. Your mom got on well with the Carrera's who only deemed it appropriate to force their daughter to hang out with you, being new in town and all. Kie wasn’t bothered at all and was glad to have another girl around. After hanging out with her for a single day, you wouldn’t hesitate to take a bullet for her. Kiara didn't introduce you to the knuckleheads right away, since she had taken a liking to you and didn't want to scare you away. The day that she did you remembered Pope had been the last one to say "hey" yet his was the warmest. After that day your stomach would erupt with butterflies whenever you'd even look at him and you would nearly die when your hands would brush against each other in passing. There was just something about him. Maybe it was how he didn't believe in stupid questions, except for JJ's of course, or how he would learn a new subject just to be able to help one of you ace an exam. It could be how the sun sparkled against his wet skin after a long day of swimming or surfing. How relaxed he looks sitting in the driver's seat of the HMS Pogue taking in all that the sun had to offer. You were glad the rest of the crew hadn't caught on yet, especially JB since he's already taken the role as your big brother, even though you're sure that you’re definitely older than him. He would never let you hear the end of it if he knew. The constant pestering, nudging, and side-eyeing would have driven you insane. Your mind slowly drifted back to the boy studying a few feet away from you. The thoughts of those hot summer nights in the cool water with him clouded your brain, so much so you nearly wiped out.

"You good!?" Pope's concerned voice made your head snap in his direction. You knew that the embarrassment on your face was very telling but you just shot him two thumbs up and got back on your board. You shake off any remaining thoughts from your head before attempting your new trick. You were sick and tired of random strangers, but mostly JJ and JB, yelling at you to do a kickflip whenever you were skating. After watching countless videos on kickflips you were basically an expert on them at this point and all you had to do now was actually stick the landing. You slid your right foot to the middle of the board so that your heel was just off the edge while your toes rested in the middle. You shifted your left foot to the tail of the deck and with all the strength you could muster you push down on the tail while your right foot flicked down on the edge of the board. It would have been a spectacular landing if it weren't for the random-ass pebble that your wheel landed on.

"Oh fuck, are you alright!?" Pope was by your side before you even realized you were on the ground. Falling came with the game and you were not fazed at all, since you've had grislier wipeouts than this, but that's before you saw the fountain of blood that poured out of your knee.

"Yeah, I'm fine dude-- I've had-- I need to--The bathroom--" you hobbled quickly into the bathroom at the chateau trying your darndest to not get any blood in the house. By the time you were able to sit down on the toilet, you were seeing stars. Your vision was slowly fading to black and you felt like you were going to vomit. You closed your eyes tightly as you pressed a clump of toilet paper to your knee, which pulled a hiss right from your lungs at the sensation. Promptly, you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from letting out a scream. A light knock came from the door and it couldn't be anyone else but Pope.

"Are you alright in there y/n?" From all the pain you were in you could only hum out a yes as a response, but you knew that would not be a good enough answer for the boy.

"Yeah, just don't--" before you could even finish your sentence he barged in "--open the door, why don't ya". His eyes grew wide at the bloody mess you made in the bathroom, but then quickly softened at the sight of you. Your skin was flushed with developing perspiration clinging to your skin and your lips had gone pale as your lungs suddenly only knew how to hyperventilate.

"Uh, I don’t think it would be in your best interest to say that it looks like a slasher flick was filmed in here" his words made you squeeze your eyes tighter as bloody images flashed before you and it only got harder for you to breathe. Pope stepped inside the rather small bathroom and closed the door behind him. He picked up all the toilet paper you had used for your leg and tossed them into the trash bin before he crouched down next to you.

"Does it still hurt?" His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, as if you would shatter if he spoke any louder. All you could muster was a tiny nod as the pain took up most of your energy. His hands then gently pried your hands off of your injured knee and inspected it. Since the cut had almost stopped bleeding completely, Pope, was able to see that the wound was deep but not enough for it to garner any stitches and it was free of any debris. Lucky for you because JB had fallen there a couple of weeks ago and Pope had to whip out the tweezers to get all the gravel out of the bloody gash.

"Hey, it's not that bad-- I mean it is bad but it could be worse-- I'm gonna clean it now" the boy got to his feet and helped you sit on the edge of the bathtub with your feet sitting inside the tub. He then washed his hands furiously to avoid infection and gathered all the supplies he needed which consisted of antibacterial soap, antibiotic cream, gauze pads, gauze rolls, and unconditional love and support. Pope helped you undo both your shoes and removed them along with your embarrassing Winnie the Pooh socks. He sat with his legs outside the tub to have easy access to the supplies. After he checked to make sure the water wasn't too hot or too cold Pope moved your leg so your knee was underneath the faucet. The wound's contact with the water wasn't as bad as you thought, but it could’ve been you were distracted by his soothing touches as he held you close to him. Pope was careful not to get any of the soap in the cut just on the surrounding area and when he was finished he made sure to clean the rest of your blood-caked leg up as well. Once you were all cleaned up, he padded your leg dry before he attempted to put ointment on the tender flesh.

"Is it going to hurt?" You squeaked as he retrieved the ointment from the countertop.

"It might sting, but it shouldn't, '' he reassured you, as he brought the ointment-covered q-tip to your knee, but you couldn't help that your knee-jerked away from his touch.

"Ow, fuck!"

"Y/n, I haven't even touched you yet"

"I know, I know, sorry"

"I promise it won't hurt, y/n, and if it does you can punch me or something" even if it did hurt that bad you couldn’t imagine hurting Pope in any way. He once again leaned back in with the q-tip and sure enough, it wasn't painful at all. The ointment soothed the burning sensation of the area which finally allowed you to relax. He then carefully put a gauze pad on the injury, before wrapping your knee securely with gauze. You slid off the edge of the grimy porcelain tub and onto the ground while Pope stood next to the sink and neatly tucked everything back into the first aid kit.

"Uh, thanks--" your words got lost in your throat when your eyes met his warm eyes "--um, dude?" You felt stupid when it came out as a dumbfounded question and the heat quickly rose to your cheeks. If it was any time for you to die you wish it would have happened right then.

"Yeah, any time, y/n" he shot an endearing smile in your direction and you've never wanted to kiss a man so much before in your life.

You both let the awkwardness settle over you. The two of you riddled with hesitancy, but quietly yearned to confess your feelings to one another. He needed to get out of there. Pope gave you a curt nod and a tight smile, but as he headed towards the door there was vacillation in his movements. Before you lost sight of him from the doorway, he turned back around determined.

"Y/N, I gotta--" you were soon on your feet as the last bit of courage you had for your lifetime allowed you to meet him halfway. He didn't bother finishing his sentence as he decided his actions would speak for him. Pope cupped your face in his soft hands and crashed your lips together. The kiss was sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever experienced before. His plump lips gilded confidently over your timid ones. As the fire inside of you diminished your shyness you shifted yourself forward onto your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. Your movements caused you to pin Pope against the bathroom wall and you could feel him smile against your lips. His velvet tongue dragged against your bottom lip for permission to explore you further and you were more than eager to let him.

"Fucking finally!" The familiar voice of the rowdy klepto caught you guys by surprise causing both of you to jump away from each other.

"I guess I'm forty bucks richer, I knew you had it in ya, Pope!" JJ beamed as he walked towards the two of you and you playfully rolled your eyes at the blonde-haired boy.

"Fuck off!" Pope giggled and slammed the door in JJ's face before he turned to face you.

"Now, where were we?"

#pope heyward #pope fic #pope heyward fic #obx fic #pope x reader #pope heyward x reader #pope x y/n #pope obx fic #pope heyward imagine #pope obx #pope heyward outer banks #pope heyward x you #my fic #pogueit

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fandomout · 3 years

Text

Supernatural Preferences/Imagines-They find out that you don’t complain about your struggles because you don’t think they compare to their problems

Includes-Castiel, Sam, Dean, Gabriel and Charlie

Castiel:

You were preparing yourself for Castiel as you just got off the phone with him, and he said he’s come in a few minutes. By preparing, you meant you were trying to hold it together. Everything was going wrong. Everything was weighing down on you. You didn't want your problems to add to Castiel's troubles. You had just finished cooking, and you were waiting for your timer to ring. However, Castiel gets there earlier than you thought as he appears in front of you. You pull him to a hug and hold him a little too tight by accident.

“You’re really happy to see me?” He asks.

“I am. Always.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good.” You looked away from him for a second before asking, “How are you?” He makes an expression you can't read, so you ask him, “Castiel, are you okay?”

“I’m trying to figure out if you were lying when you answered me just now. It’s proving difficult.”

“Lying?”

“Dean said he’s really good at telling the difference. He’s given me a few tips as a new skill. One sign he said to look for is any wandering eyes, but you did so quickly I can't tell.”

“It’s great that your learning more human skills I guess...I was not lying, so-”

“Pausing is another sign of lying. It gives the other person more time to think of more lies and avert the situation.”

“Cas-”

“This is very difficult. I’m just going to read you.”

“Castiel, we’ve talked about that!” You’ve spoken too late as his powers are too quick. Also, with all of the stress and inconveniences from the past times, they all lay at the surface of your brain ready for the taking. Sadly, he states, “You went through a lot while I was gone.”

“Okay.” The timer goes off. You turn it off and walk over to the oven to take out the meal you just made. He takes your hand.

“Why didn’t you discuss this with me?”

“How can I? No, you know what, how dare I? Who am I to complain? Castiel, you're literally an angel that helps protect the world from supernatural creatures. You’ve saved the world a few times. How can I-I-I...”

“Are you finished?”

“I guess I am.” You huff and sit down. You turn your face from him and await for him to say something. He sits next to you, and he is sure to get all up in your face. He gives you a small smile and lays his hand in yours and says, “Listen, there are many things that aren't fair or make sense in the world. One thing I’ve learned on Earth is hurt and pain are a plain field everyone can relate to. Everyone is in pain before it gets better. While, yes, my issues are out of the ordinary, they are issues, nonetheless, same as yours, so I want you to talk to me. It pains me to hear you in pain. If I can be there, maybe advice isn’t the best idea-” You both get out a small chuckle. “But, I can listen or just hold you. I don’t want you to suffer in solace. You pray to me, and I’ll come.”

Dean:

You were at your apartment having a hard time controlling your emotions since yet another thing had to go wrong in your life. A few stray tears fall involuntarily, and you just watch it happen since you feel helpless. As you almost decide to let it all out, you hear a knock at your door. You practiced a fake smile in the mirror for whoever it was going to be. You wiped the tears You walked over to the door, and you looked into the peephole to see Dean, smiling, at your door. You sucked in a few quick breaths to calm down and tried to focus on being happy to see him. You open the door, and he immediately brings you into his arms. You hold onto him enjoying the moment of just holding and smelling him. He pulled back a bit, and he peppered your face with kisses. He gives you an uneasy smile; then, he licks at his lips.

“You alright?” You ask and give him a soft kiss.

“Fine. Just-” He kisses your cheek again. “You taste salty.”

“That’s such a weird first think to say when I haven’t seen you in how long?” You grip his hand to lead him to the kitchen because you just wanted him close and taken care of. He allows you to drag him. You pull out a beer, open it, and hand it to him. He blurts out, “Something going on?” You don’t dare even think about talking about everything. You didn’t want to add to Dean’s worry. He has enough to stress and worry about for a lifetime. He takes a swig of his beer as he awaits your response. He leans back on your kitchen counter with a stern that is telling you that he won’t speak until you do. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you in by the waist to be pressed against him.

“There’s nothing going on right now. Now, why don’t you talk to me?” He gives a smile and replies, “I’ll tell you everything that happened out on the road.” He drops his smile and continues to say, “If you stop lying your ass off.” You scoff at him.

“Can't we just have a nice moment? Believe it or not they exist.” He removed himself from you and went back to his beer. He drinks some of it before getting another one out, opening, and putting it on the table. He takes his beer in his hand and sits down at your table. He gestures for you to sit. You let out a small sigh and sit in the chair next to him. You drink your beer to the end of it as he stares at you down. Finally, you break, “Ugh! Fine!...Dean, I have issues and problems-but we don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to, but I have a feeling you want to. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time you complained about anything...How could I not have noticed that?”

“I’m a positive person.” you expected the statement to come out firmly, but it just sounded like sacastim from the lack of strength inside of you.

“How much have you been keeping from me?!”

“Lots…”

“So what?! Your big plan is to let yourself die from the inside out?! Is that any better than just telling me?!” You slammed your hands onto the table and told him, “Stop yelling!”

“You’re yelling!”

“Now, I am!” You roughly put your hand to your head and grasp at your hair roughly almost like you want to pull it out. Dean scoots a little closer. He takes your hand from your head and holds onto it. His tone drops to be more soft, and he says, “Look…” He moves the hair out of your face with his other hand as you just ruffled it to hell. “Let’s just calm down first. Let’s breathe.” He breathed exaggeratingly.

“Dean...I don’t need to-”

“Let’s breathe. Come on. You’ve done this with me enough times. Your turn.” You breathe along with him. Finally, he says, “Okay. Go. Tell me what this keeping it in crap is about?” You put a hand to hold his face. The ends of your finger moving back and forth on his ear lobe, and you say, “Dean, you’ve gone through so much and still are going through so much.

“Hey, you're always there for me. You're there when I need to bitch about Sam, a hunt, or some random dick on the street. You do so much, and I’m here-”

”Dean, I know you're here for me, but you shouldn't have to be.”

“Uh, Uh, Uh. We’re not playing the selfless card. No. You-”

“Dean-”

“We’re a package deal. We’re on the same level. If you’re there for me, I get to be there for you. If you cry in front of me, I get to do it too...I know how much you care about me and what you’d do for me. Hell, When I’m piss drunk, you’ve come to get me just about every time. I fall on my ass at a bar and look like an idiot, you’ve come to get me.“ You let out a small laugh as you recall. “I remember one of those times that you even pretended to fall on your ass to make me feel better.” You sit up a bit and ask, “You remember that?”

“You thought I was too hammered. I decided to just keep it as a keepsake. Keep it in my pocket for when I needed it. Here we are.” Dean pulls you into a hug, and your arms go around his neck and your fingers find the hairs on the back of his neck.. “It’s an us. We’re not just an us when you're around me, and you aren’t a single when you're alone. We’re together even if we’re miles away from each other. I can't have my sweet Y/N in pain. It hurts more to think you're holding back. Don’t.” With the declaration, you do just that. You let out all your emotions crash down and tell him.

Sam:

While you were going through a lot, you were trying to ignore it by watching tv; however, it wasn’t doing much good at all as you felt the pit in your stomach getting worse. You were so focused that you scream when your phone rings. You pick it up as you see it’s Sam.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Sam.”

“What are you doing right now?” You pull the phone away from you and take a deep breath and pull the phone back to you.

“Just watching tv.”

“Can I watch the Kardashians with you even though I can’t believe you watch that?” You look to the tv you neglected and see the Kardashians was in fact on tv. Your mouth goes wide.

“How did you-” You hear a knock at the door. You rush over to open the door and see Sam. You engulf each other in a hug filled with warmth. “Sam, that was kinda creepy for a second.” You joke, and he chuckles and says, “I was trying to surprise you.”

“Mission accomplished. I am surprised.” You say as lighthearted as you can with your foul mood clinging onto you.

“Was it a good surprise?”

“Yes. Now, let me do something about what’s on tv because I was not watching.” You change to another random channel. You look back to see Sam is already sitting on the couch and waiting for you. You settle beside him, and you convince him to lay down with you. The tv plays; however, neither of you listen as he begins to recount his trip, which consist of what they hunted, where they found it, how they killed it etc. Despite his tales, your mind can’t seem to shake your stresses, and you end up not hearing a word. You're so tired of it all. He nudges you softly, and you give a small smile as if you were listening.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” You hold his hand in one hand while the other draws circles into his forearm. “What do you mean?”

“I could have sworn you drifted off.”

“Me? No. No, of course not.”

“Alright pop quiz.“ You let out a dry laugh and say, “Seriously, Sam?”

“Seriously.”

“What more is there to be said? You found the monster and killed it. That’s all that matters, right?” He sits up a little from the comfortable position.

“Is something wrong with you?” His eyes search your expression for any hint of an answer. You get up, letting him go.

“No. I’m fine, Sam. Do you want a beer or something-” Suddenly, his big strong arms pull you in from behind by your waist. You land on his lap. You refuse to turn to him as you know his beautiful eyes will give you puppy dog eyes. His head finds its way into the crook of your neck, Softly, he says, “Why won’t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to say. You're just being your worried self.” You say with a forced smile as you reach behind for your hand to reach his cheek. He took hold of your hand. While your hand still lays a little on his face, he softly kisses your forearm, wrist, and palm. You sigh softly enjoying the comfort. “You never complain and are always pretty positive...It would be okay if that weren't the case. You can't be happy all the time.”

“But-” You break down in his arms. You begin to cry. He turns you toward him, so your legs lay out on top of him. He kisses under your eyes softly and tastes you tears. He holds your face in one of his large hands and urges you, “Just talk to me.”

“That would be so wrong though…” He tilts his head in confusion with a furrow of brow.

“Wrong? You talking to me, your boyfriend, about what’s bothering you, that’s wrong?” He scratches his head with an exaggerated confused face, which makes you chuckle. “That doesn't sound, right, now does it?”

“Sam, you just- you have so much going on-” He doesn't let you continue as he lays a kiss on your lips.

“If that's what this is about, you’ve been doing it all wrong. Yes, I have a difficult time with all the supernatural crap, but a problem is a problem and an issue is an issue. Just because yours may not depend on the universe it doesn't mean you mean any less. Your emotions matter, especially to me. I want you to talk to me from now on without a worry about what I do. I don’t want you to take on everything alone because no one should have to go through that, and you shouldn't want that...Now, will you talk to me?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Gabriel:

While struggling with all kinds of issues, it was convenient that Gabriel has been coming around more frequently as it made you feel better and distracted you from everything else. The morning after having sex, you were laying comfortably in each others arms. When you woke up, Gabriel was already out of bed. He had showered, so he smelled amazing and had his hair wet and slicked back. As you woke, Gabriel had all kinds of foods set out for you. As usual, he was spoiling you. He sat on the other side of the room with a happy composure, and he happily said, “Good morning.” You purse your lips at him and motion him over, which leads Gabriel to lean forward to kiss you. You groggily but happily say, “It’s nice that your voice is the first thing I’ve heard today.” He kisses you again and smiles against your lips. You brush your hands through his hair and he comments, “You know if you want to hear my voice, you can call me whenever you want. Even if you don’t have a reason to.”

“I think you're a bit busy for all that.” As you made the statement, your issues came back and started flooding your head, and you removed your hands from his hair. You rise from the bed in your naked state. Gaberiel holds up one of his shirts from you. You reach out for the shirt, and he pulls it back a smidge away from reach, so he can lay a butterfly kiss across your shoulders. You giggle in response. He helps you pull his shirt across your body. You take a bite of a chocolate strawberry and say, “I feel like you’ve been spoiling more than usual. Is something up?”

“No. No. I’m just a good boyfriend.”

“You are a good boyfriend...Am I-Are you happy?”

“What?”

“I just mean that I feel like I can’t spoil you with things like this.”

“You can’t, but-” He grabs onto your hands and kisses the front of them. “You do spoil me with love and understanding. In fact, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Your're damn right, sweetheart.” You're overwhelmed from the sweetness that you begin to cry. “Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever made someone cry after saying something nice.”

“It’s just wow-you-” You are in the middle of explaining when his hold from you disappears and so does he. You're left alone. You try to wipe at your tears and look around the room. Frantically, you pace around the room. Immediately, you call his cell, but there’s no response on the line. You sat down on the bed in dismay. You bit at your knuckles as your hands clasped together. After half an hour, the flutter of his wings reach your ears. Then, you look up to see he’s back. You rush forward and almost knock him over in a hug.

“I’m alright.” You pull away and your expression changes to frustration.

“Oh, I can't take it anymore, Gabriel!”

“Sweetheart, I’m okay. The Winchesters just need some information.”

“Not that…” You scratch at his scruff and kiss his nose. “Look, you have troubles I get that. Demons, brothers, father...”

“What are you getting at?”

“I just...I have problems too.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes?”

“I know you have issues.”

“What?”

“I keep an eye on you of course. Whoever you talk to, when you talk to yourself, or go over it in your head, you don’t think I listen to you? I hear you sometimes. I try not to listen, but I just want to be there for you...I don’t why you haven’t realized this yet but you can tell me anything.”

“I just thought you had so much on your plate-“

“That I wouldn't have time for you or something?”

“It’s not like that.”

“You didn't think your problems were important enough to compare.” You nodded softly. He sighs before saying, “Come here…” He holds his arms open wide and continues to say, “First, I hope you stop crying soon because I hate to see it. If you continue to cry, you really want to be the first to make an archangel cry?” You let out a hearty laugh. He pulls his head back a bit to get a look at your face and smiles widely. “There we go. A smile from you is always better.”

“I’m sorry...for not saying anything sooner. It is kinda stupi-”

“I wouldn’t use the word stupid. I just hope this means you can tell me how you're feeling and dealing with things instead of keeping it from me. The second thing I wanted to say is that I kinda already knew you’d been struggling and not telling me about your issues. Being the best boyfriend and all, I make it my business to understand you and know what you need-”

“That's what all these recent trips have been like.” He nods. “I’ll start talking to you first...Gabriel, I love you so much, so I’ll try to do better for both our sakes.”

“I love you, too. We could start right now.”

“After a little more hugging, then I’ll talk.”

“Anything for you, buttercup.”

Charlie:

It was late when you got back to your apartment. You feel heavy as you walk inside. Despite you considering it your sanctuary, with everything piling on you, the weighted feeling couldn't be helped even a little bit. You huffed out and whine for no reason and every reason as you hung your things up. Abruptly, you stopped all movement when you saw Charlie’s stuff on the hooks. You cursed under your breath hoping she didn’t hear your frustrations. You walked over to the living room to see her asleep on the couch. You pout at the idea of her having waited long to surprise you. Nonetheless, you were quick to pick up her light and sleeping form and tuck her into your bed. You give her a small kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen. Your heart begins to pound against your chest, so you hold a hand to your chest and try to calm it yourself. Wanting to distract yourself, you decide some water would help, which leads to a broken cup falling out of your shaky hands. Your eyes dart to the door and are hopeful that Charlie hasn’t woken up. While picking up the large pieces of glass, all your issues rush through you and make your body ache. You end up staring at the last few pieces of glass. So absorbed, you didn't notice Charlie wake up and walk into the kitchen. You miss the way she crouched down to be at your level, and you flinch when she puts her hand on your shoulder. You turn your head over to her to quickly utter, ”Sorry that I woke you up. Go back to bed. I’ll finish cleaning this.” Before you get the chance to regain focus on the broken glass, her right hand finds your left cheek and wipes tears. She is about to ask; however, you turn your back to her and go on cleaning without another thought. Although getting out all the big pieces, you were starting to get frustrated with the specks of glass. In response to your frustration, Charlie puts her arms around your shoulder from behind and kisses your cheek. You revel in the feeling of her arms around you and cling both of your hands on her forearm. Softly, she added the words, “We can clean that in the morning. Let’s go to bed.” Then, wordlessly, she helped you stand up without changing positions; then, she led you to the bed, and you laid down together. You were side to side while holding hands in the middle of the bed Charlie starts to ramble against you, which consist of some of the things she’s been up to. You listen, taking it all in and refirming why you can’t tell her about everything going on. You tense up without realizing, and Charlie says, “You're really scaring me, Y/N. What’s wrong?” You find in yourself to reply firmly, “Just keep telling me about what went on with you. It's more import-”

“More important?”

“Look, I don’t need to tell you what’s going on with me...You have too much to worry about. I can handle myself.”

“You’ve been keeping things from me?”

“Yeah…” She removed her hand from your hold and turned on her side to hover over you . Then, Charlie expressed, “I know I’m not always the most observant to your feelings-Also, I do have a pretty crazy life sometimes-Regardless, I want to hear about you.” Charlie wrapped her arm around your waist and laid her hand on you back as she rubbed it and continued to say, “In no way shape or form are you more important than me or me more important than you. Look I can be whatever you need me to be, but I can't be anything for you if you won’t tell me what’s going on or what you need.“

“It’s all just so hard sometimes.”

“Good thing, you're not alone then. You got that?” You nodded in response. Then, she laid a loving kiss to your lips that lasted until you were both a little breathless. She laid her head down close to your head and used her free hand to rake it through your hair. She would await to hear your struggles and what you wanted. Also, she’d be sure this didn't happen again.

Hope your day got better

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kariachi · 2 years

Text

Some ficlet for the morning. Ben and Gwen learn some Ossy stuff while the Plumbers are in trouble in the background.

“I’m sorry, did Grandpa say that was you submitting?” Blinking, Kevin turned to the Tennysons with a frown and tilt of the head.

“Yeah? I bared my throat. Or, well,” he hemmed, “flashed my throat, but just because Kay’s Packhead doesn’t mean he isn’t still my sibling, I’m allowed!” Slowly, he seemed to remember that he was dealing with people whose only consistent interaction with his species was him. “It’s an Ossy thing.”

“Uh-huh.” The cousins nodded back slowly as Gwen spoke. “And we’d like to learn more about it.” Like Grandpa Max, they had also never imagined Kevin submitting to anybody, and the situation surrounding this discovery was throwing them off. Packhead Kayzisk had pretty much demanded a meeting with their grandpa and the local Magister, and reacted to the three of them being present by ordering them out. Ben and Gwen he had no authority over, but Kevin had jerked his chin up with a ‘yes Packhead’ and dragged them outside after him. By their cultural reckoning it was odd, a rebellious display that made the agreement sarcastic, but apparently they knew nothing.

“Throat bearing is a submissive gesture,” Kevin explained with a sigh, leaning back against the hood of his car, “lowering your chin is a dominate gesture. Doubly so if comes with some specific head gestures, but the last time I did those Kay laughed me out of the fucking room.” The Tennysons continued to nod, though Gwen did so with more empathy. She understood the pain of having a sibling old enough to pull the ‘I’m a grown-up’ card, even if the difference between her and Ken wasn’t near that between Kevin and Kay.

“So all those times you like, tucked your chin dealing with people,” Ben asked, “that was you basically telling ‘em you’re better than them?”

“Kinda?” his face twisted like he couldn’t figure out how to explain it. “It’s more of an establishing position thing? Making sure it’s clear I’ve not beneath them on the pecking order. Which probably doesn’t help my personal reputation any, but it’s not like it could get much worse.”

“Well, that certainly explains why Grandpa calls you the most insubordinate child he’s ever met.” They were pretty sure they’d never seen him not tuck his chin around him. Really, he did that around a lot of people, though given the shit they got into they couldn’t really be too surprised. Still, this whole thing felt like it might become a lesson in Ossy culture and there were bigger things to worry about. Ben made a curious noise as he and Gwen joined Kevin on the car. “What do you think they’re talking about in there?”

“My guess,” Kevin said as Gwen shrugged, “is all the shit that’s gone down with the Plumbers these past few months.” He snorted, flashing predator’s teeth. “Nothing else, given his part in encouraging Alan and I to be involved in that whole Highbreed mess? If your grandpa walks out of there on his own Kay’ll have definitely gotten Dad’s self-control.”

#fanfic

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leia-imogen · 3 years

Text

aaron & the family he's found all by himself; vol. 2 // vol. 1

( ft. short jokes, a belated birthday shopping trip, & an ultra-chaotic winter break )

( for @criswisstuff & anyone who enjoyed the first one <3 )

savannah, who is 5'9, is constantly teasing aaron and cleo for being short. katelyn's good at 5'6, and also a bit impossible to tease bcs she's the actual best, so she gets to escape this

cleo ( 5'2 ) is perfectly delighted to have someone shorter than her for once in her life, even by only 2 inches

aaron: guys, just try and see this from my point of view

sav: [ collapses ]

katelyn: [ crouches down ]

cleo: [ sits cross-legged on floor ]

aaron: dude you're literally 2 inches taller than me

cleo: 2 and a quarter

sav is so smug about this but in a good-natured way, in that she and cleo call aaron "kid" or "kiddo" or "pipsqueak" and he doesn't mind bcs they always say it w such a huge smile and he likes to respond to sav with "how's the weather up there, tall-ass?"

and katelyn thinks it's ridiculously adorable how tiny aaron is and obviously she uses him as an armrest all the time

katelyn, petting aaron's hair: guys guys omg he's like an angsty mini blond kitten and i would kill for him <3

sav, popping up between them: mini-yard :))

before i get super distracted, i just wanna mention that aaron met sav and cleo towards the end of november, so they missed the twin's birthday

but sav still insists that she must take him shopping bcs sure his fashion sense is fine but there's always room for improvement, isn't there, aaron??

he relents, so long as she and cleo and katelyn ( who already gave him a birthday present?? why's she doing this??? ) don't spend too much money

sav drags him all around south carolina to the best thrift stores she can find and cleo and katelyn are amazed that she can get such fantastic deals on the supermodel clothes she wears

fr she's literally a fashion design major ( + minoring in business management ) and she shows up to class in skilfully done drugstore makeup and an absolutely killer outfit for like 15 bucks

she grew up poor, and she's still poor now, even if she ( thankfully ) managed to scrape a cheerleading scholarship

sav, flicking through a rack of dresses labelled $4 apiece: RIP to little miss rich bitch reynolds but i'm different ;)

no hate to allison she's awesome but she grew up in the lap of luxury surrounded by designer brands so she knows NOTHING about thrifting and rationing money in general

oh and sav and allison have kind of a frenemies thing going on bcs they're both fighting for the top spot of their fashion design course

they spend the whole day shopping and aaron ends up with a highly upgraded wardrobe that contains a lot of cute pastel stuff and sav's promise to do his makeup

aaron insists on paying for dinner at the really nice pizza place a short drive from campus even tho they all protest

and andrew knows he's found new friends, but has no idea that it's the vixens and he's dating one of them. nicky does tho, but he's sworn to secrecy

nicky thinks his new clothes are adorable and is stunned when aaron tells him the total cost

"oh my GOD that girl sounds like a genius."

"yeah, her name's sav. you guys,, would get along, i think."

okay now for the winter break part!!

i think that you can get permission to stay at dorms if you're an international student or something??

anyways since sav's super upset bcs her father straight-up told her not to come home bcs he has a new girlfriend ( god i hate sav's father )

katelyn would stay with her, but her dad can finally have her home in new york for christmas and she really doesn't want to miss it

cleo, the only one with a properly functional family, is going back to her big family house and loving parents and grandma and aunt and siblings and cousins. love that for her.

so aaron and sav are stuck at psu for 2 weeks and aaron's surprisingly cool with this. and sav's excited bcs for the first time since her mom died, she can spend her christmas with someone she actually wants around instead of her shitty-ass father and his constant stream of bitchy girlfriends

they spend a lot of time together, stealing food from the athlete's dining hall to make their own weird combos, which usually ends with aaron making something Cool and Interesting and sav gagging and spitting out whatever strange concoction she had previously insisted would taste good

i literally can't bring myself to give a shit about the twinyards' deal bcs andrew literally became best friends with renee?? and hooks up with guys at eden’s??? idk what's going on there but it's like andrew is trying to control aaron's life while he can do whatever he wants??? and honestly wtf????

also let me just make it clear that i ADORE andrew so so much he's one of my favourite comfort characters ever but i'm not gonna make excuses for his shitty behaviour. i fully believe he heals and puts away his pride to apologise to aaron, nicky, and kevin for his treatment of them

that's definitely not to say that aaron's internalised homophobia isn't eww, but with so many important people in his life gay, he makes a huge effort to get over it

so andrew just thinks that aaron is spending a lot of time in the library or out with nicky or something

and when aaron tells sav about this deal, she's kinda horrified, but it's pretty clear to her that aaron so desperately wants to fix his relationship with his brother, and she's not in any place to discourage him, is she?

the only thing she can do is hope that he won't come out all the worse for it

and stare at the boy curled up on the other end of the pale pink sofa cleo's parents had gotten, wonder just how much shit he'd been put through, and decide she was going to be his best friend

aaron's face has gone entirely impassive. sav nudges his fluffy-socked foot with her own, then reaches out to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. "careful, you'll wrinkle your pretty little face."

aaron is very caught off guard by this, and very promptly flushes bright red, which contrasts with the pale teal hoodie he stole from katelyn

"okay, enough talk about depressing crap. wanna go make christmas cookies now?"

"yeah."

so they make christmas cookies. well, it was supposed to be christmas cookies, but it turns into double chocolate fudge cookies somewhere along the line. neither of them knows how

them baking together is the definition of chaos. they're still blasting songs, and sav is singing along terribly

"yOu'Re A mEaN oNe, Mr. GrInCh," while poking aaron's cheek as he tries to mix something. he throws a handful of flour at her. "yOu ReAlLy ArE A hEel."

anyways obviously sav retaliates and that ends in a flour fight. it only stops when aaron deadass cracks an egg on sav's head and she smears chocolate into his hair

she also tries to make him sing along to baby, it's cold outside

"i'Ve GoT tO Go `wAAyyy~" she holds a spatula up to his face

"go away."

they video call katelyn, who takes one look at the mess in the cramped dorm kitchen and sighs so loudly and dramatically that her dad pops in and asks if everything's okay

aaron freezes up at the sight of him and sav quickly turns off the camera, bcs they both want to make good impressions on him, and being covered in various cookie ingredients just won't cut it, ya know?

the cookies turn out delicious and sav sends all their group chat various photos of the process, most of which consist of selfies with her making goofy faces while aaron is simultaneously baking and flipping off the camera

plus a several videos of sav enthusiastically dancing and mouthing the lyrics of, as follows, all i want for christmas is you, let it snow, and santa claus is coming to town and aggressively pointing a spatula at aaron

"c'mon aari, just sing! please??? please???? please you can do it i believe in you!!"

finally he just. gives up. "okay, you know what? fine, i'll sing to ONE and then you will STOP bothering me you insolent dumbass."

sav beams. santa baby starts playing. aaron is very clearly going through five stages of grief in 0.5 seconds

"go on," sav says sweetly as she slides in next to a pouting aaron, "i'll sing with you."

sav slings an arm around his shoulder and sways with him, so it's just her doing that and him grumpily mumbling the lyrics

and when the cookies are cooling down, they start cleaning the kitchen up. aaron rubs some spilled egg yolk into sav's hair but it goes pretty okay otherwise, since they're just listening to more christmas songs and chatting about light stuff, like aaron's biochem course, sav's fashion course, and their dumb classmates

aaron mostly listens tho, and learns that sav kind of hates allison reynolds for giving up her inheritance when she would do ANYTHING for even the tiniest fraction of that money

but she still thinks allison's gorgeous bcs c'mon

and that sav's dream is to one day open her own boutique!!

aaron spends most of the actual christmas day with the monsters at eden's bcs nicky and andrew wanted to

he spent a lot of the time texting on their group chat

doessavvyisgay: so u just go to a nightclub every week??

unaliveme: i mean yeah, i literally worked here for a while. we needed money and nicky was already working 2 jobs night and day

actualblessing: babe ur backstory is so tragic

unaliveme: i'm a fox for a reason ig

cleo.magda: Yes but-

doessavvyisgay renamed this conversation "aaron miniyard support group"

unaliveme: oh ffs

unaliveme: sav subject change go

doessavvyisgay: i'm at the clothes store what should i get?

actualblessing: something pretty :)

doessavvyisgay: sorry, i can't buy the cashier

cleo.magda: Wow.

doessavvyisgay: I DID GET HER NUMBER THO

unaliveme: lmaooo what's her name?

doessavvyisgay: uh

unaliveme: savannah istg u don't even know her name??

actualblessing: s a v

actualblessing: damn u really do be turning on the Charm tho

actualblessing: respect i didn't even talk to aaron till i asked him for notes bcs he has rly pretty notes and also a rly pretty face

actualblessing: and even then i was like :0

unaliveme: IT WAS CUTE I PROMISE

doessavvyisgay: u 2 = the only valid heterosexual couple

actualblessing: rt

unaliveme: oh shit i'm getting super drunk

cleo.magda: Aaron, you drink? That's not legal, get out of there right now. Kids these days-

unaliveme: cleo u have literally seen me get drunk af,, the first time we met,,, and anyways this is how my family bonds ✌🏻

doessavvyisgay: that's. so damn weird kiddo but go off ig

actualblessing: no go find better things to bond about other than alcohol and weird sweaty dancing

cleo.magda: Yeah, go watch some Christmas movies!

unaliveme: nicky makes us watch die hard every year

doessavvyisgay: see u in hell, kiddo ;)

cleo.magda: I meant things like The Polar Express and Home Alone.

actualblessing: merry christmas ya filthy animals!!

doessavvyisgay: merry xmas y'all i'm gonna go to that christmas party bcs i'm super bored

unaliveme: merry christmas mothers and fuckers

cleo.magda: Merry Christmas, you guys!

#aaron & the family he's found all by himself #okay this was most aaron and sav centric #but i love them so.#aftg headcanons #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #aaron minyard headcanons #the vixens #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #nicky hemmick #katelyn aftg #katelyn finley #sav jameson #cleo magdalene

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poptod · 3 years

Text

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 7, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Protection.

Notes: idk when i started writing smut so willy nilly but here it is, another fuckening. Pretty big warning though: dubious consent. It’s clearly consensual later on but at first there is no given consent. WC: 6.8k

He had yet to leave your side, taking you with him in every which direction as he, in his own words, marketed himself. It was a process that consisted of being charming and making witty jokes; simple things that had people trusting him. You stood mostly silent beside him, wringing your hands, stuck in distant thoughts. If anyone referred to you, you didn't notice.

They did, though––but if anyone asked about you, Ahk would make up a quick explanation, one he knew you wouldn't mind.

Your silence was originally your constant state, traipsing about the palace with a chain keeping you at Ahk's side. Over the short course of time between Amun first awakening and coming to stay with the Persian nomads, he had already grown used to your laughing, the snide comments always on your razor-sharp tongue, and that lively spark that filled your eyes whenever your heart thumped in your chest.

"You're quiet," he murmured as the two of you walked. You gripped reins in your hand, keeping your camel with all your bags beside you.

"I don't... like travelling with people," you said through gritted teeth, side-eyeing a group of whispering friends to your left.

"It's safer, isn't it?"

"For you," you mumbled bitterly.

"Oh, you're above joining in a caravan?" He said with a teasing lilt.

"I am simply experienced in this," you said, sure to speak under your breath, "and I know how to take care of myself."

Due to the size and needs of a caravan such as Mahud's, you would need to stop thrice a day, each time setting up a little bit of a home at the riverside. Inbetween those breaks, your legs ached with a familiar burn. Long walks had been your staple for a long while. Though your long break from the lifestyle had left you a little out of shape, your previous experience allowed you to navigate your way back in without too much trouble.

Ahk was taking the physical exertion overall well, despite his aching hunger. The stops would allow him to eat, a fact he was very happy to learn, going by the massive grin on his face when you pointed it out. At a few points he was partial to complaining, but always ceased if you glared at him.

The next stop for the slow-moving caravan was by an outcropping stream flowing from the Nile and out into the desert, allowing a small oasis to grow further from the river itself. Although there appeared to be no fruits growing on the tall trees, a few men and women took up nets and spears, wading out into the water to look for fish.

Numbness filled up your legs as you collapsed on the ground, leant against your camel who had also drawn to its' knees. Heat had already pooled in your face and in your feet, burning from the long day, and ready for anything to drink.

"Here," Ahk said as he rounded a bush, kneeling beside you in your shady, isolated spot.

He handed a cup to you, filled with hot tea. Not the most satisfying drink, but it was safest, and you dutifully sipped away. As you watched the other travellers Ahk shifted his position, scooting nearer to you and pressing himself to your side. Instantly his heat began to overcrowd your senses.

"Ahk, it's too hot for me to be touching anyone," you said, shifting away with your back to him.

You probably should've expected him to pull you into him and keep you there, which made you feel all the more foolish when he did it anyway and you didn't expect it at all.

"Ahk..." you whined, half suffocated by his arms wrapping tight round your chest, his face buried in the back of your neck.

"Mmm," he hummed as he took all of you in, nuzzling you with his nose. "I am... tired."

"I'd be astounded if you weren't, but you can't sleep. It's still day and we won't stay here long," you said matter-of-factly, pushing his face away from you.

"I'll just keep you here," he decided, his voice muffled through the fabric of your shirt. "Sleep forever."

"Right," you said, rolling your eyes.

You wormed out the moment he loosened his grip, much to his disappointment.

By nightfall the distant murmurs of a city sounded from ahead, blurred with singing crickets and the steady flow of the Nile beside you. Ahk had spent the rest of the day trying to cheer you up, mostly with bad jokes, but the sentiment was nonetheless there. Still, being surrounded by people for the past fourty-six hours had already taken its' toll. You hardly spoke, your chest felt caved in on itself, and your eyes were trained on the ground below you.

The city ahead, while heralding certainly crowded streets and filled taverns, would suffice as a hospice away from people who had come to learn your name. Whispering in your ear, Ahk informed you this was the city Piye had wanted the two of you to stay at for a little while. If things got worse, you'd move further south, and if they got better, you would return north down the nile.

While at first you tried to sneak away without Mahud noticing, Ahk insisted on giving the man a proper good-bye, and backed this up with the fact that you had been lent a camel. You wouldn't be able to take it with, but it was still a nice consideration for the trip to Aswan.

"We'll be stopping here," Ahk said once Mahud's attention was on the two of you. "We're to meet a friend soon."

"Ah, then I wish you safe travels," said Mahud, patting Ahk on the shoulder with a firm hand.

"Thank you. To you and your family as well. Will you be staying here tonight?" Ahk asked as he gestured to the outer markets of the city, filled with traders who came from far away to make their living, and couldn't afford a roof over their heads.

"I believe so. Tomorrow we make our money and head off again."

"Good luck to you then," Ahk said, silently urging you to say your own farewell.

"Good-bye," you said quietly, bowing your head respectfully.

As you entered the outer rim of the city, the first thing you noticed was the quiet. It wasn't all that late––the sun had set only a little while ago, and it always did that much earlier in the day during the colder months. So you kept your footsteps quiet, instructing Ahk to do the same when he didn't pick up on the eerie silence.

With no one around to direct you every which way, you had to rely off what memory you had of Aswan, as little as it was. You had visited several times, but never for very long. Most of the city was still unexplored to you.

The long light of burning torches cast itself upon the street in front of you, approaching from around the house to your right. Instantly you were darting for cover, hiding the whole of your body behind a large barrel, while you watched Ahk look around the corner.

"Ahk, you fucking idiot, get over here," you hissed, the pounding in your heart begging him to listen to you.

He looked over his shoulder, finding you mostly-hidden, and quickly made to do the same. His spot was on the opposite side of the street, guarded by a practical wall of broken-down stalls. Once Ahk was fully secured you slipped back behind the barrel, calming your quickened breath as footsteps passed you by, numbering somewhere in the tens.

Only when you were fully assured that whoever passed you was not coming back, you joined Ahk in the middle of the road and continued onwards.

"Did you get a look at them?" You asked immediately.

"Yes, but... I'm not sure if I actually saw what I saw," he said, his brow furrowed intensely.

"What does that mean?"

"They had these.. heads on them, feathered and beaked, with massive eyes. Fucking jacked, too," he muttered, pausing to check both ways before crossing the next street.

"Like your Gods?" You asked.

"Like Horus," he said with a nod. "What on Earth are they here for?"

"Just guessing right now, but they might have something to do with you."

He took your hand, and after a long while of searching the streets, you found yourself at the step of a tavern whose lights had long gone out. Again, strange; neither of you remarked upon it, but you did turn to each other with dubious eyes. The smell of mead still came from it, not yet soured or rotten.

Ahk took a cautious step forward, reaching for the door and easily pushing it open. Inside there was the expected darkness, surrounding the knocked-down chairs, broken tables, and spilt beer. Both of you stopped, your shadows stretching before you on the wooden floor as you scanned the whole of the abandoned room. The bar, where you were sure there was once an attendant, was left unmanned and covered in shattered cups, sticky with sweetened alcohol.

The door behind you swung shut, making you whip around. Fortunately it was only Ahk letting go of the door, leaving it to join you nearer to the center of the room, where you could try and peer over the counter.

"Um..." you said.

"Good evening," said a voice, accompanied soon by a man popping out from behind the bar. "How may I help you?"

"Uhhh.. what... what, uh, happened here?" Ahk asked, his expression contorted as he glanced around the room.

"Nasty Egyptian soldiers. They've wrecked up the place, and every time I fix it they come back in and ruin it, so I stopped fixing it. The party's upstairs, if that's what you're after," he said with a too-bright grin on his face.

"Really? And they don't notice that you're up there?"

"Well, they are bird brains," the man said as he leant in, though spoke in a much quieter voice.

"Wait, are they the soldiers with the bird heads on them?" Ahk asked as a revelation came to him.

"Yes, sir. Where've you been?"

"Travelling for the last couple days. How long have they been here?"

"About a week or so now," said the man, looking away as he recalled. "Heard they're crawling all over the other cities, too. So you folks want a room?"

"... sure," you said in a quiet, low voice when Ahk failed to answer.

He handed you a wooden coin with a symbol engraved with fire, informing you that the door with the same symbol was yours. There were no locks and he made sure to tell you that, as well. After offering to carry your bags and earning a 'no,' from you, he pointed you up the stairs, and returned to his spot hidden beneath the bar.

"Odd man," Ahk whispered to you as you climbed the steps.

"Ahk!" You scolded, hitting his shoulder. "We're still in earshot."

How the Horus soldiers hadn't managed to find this place was beyond either of you, as the moment you entered the upper floor you were bombarded with the tunes of dancing music, twirling and playing with the veins of each listener. The thick scent of searing meat filled the whole of the room, rivalled only by the scent of sloshed beer. Most of the food and drink came from a single corner, where a large cask of beer had been set up alongside a furnace, where the one manning the food also managed the distribution of drink.

All around you, people sat and stood, dancing in the middle or resting on the sidelines. Every crate and usable chair was taken up, most people taking seats on the floor instead in great groups of public conversation. You instinctively grew closer to Ahk, trying to keep as far away from others as you could, even as he began to wade through the crowd.

"Hey, don't you think it's a little loud in here? Won't the soldiers find us?" Ahk asked a random stranger, who had happened to stand as the two of you passed her by.

"Egyptian soldiers are hardly valued for their intelligence, young man," she said with a knowing chuckle, before continuing on to the bar.

"Told you," you murmured in his ear as you watched her disappear in the crowd.

"Oh, shut up."

After setting away your bags and manually jamming the door, you rejoined the party on the second floor, partaking in what food and drink you could afford. Piye had given you a good deal of money, but you had no way of knowing how many days or months you would have to stretch that amount across. It was better to keep a good eye on your finances, something Ahk didn't know much about, and left in your capable hands. Though, that hardly stopped him from complaining.

"We got more food when we were staying with Mahud," he whined, his cheek squished against your shoulder.

"That's because it didn't cost any money," you said.

"You are a cruel lover."

"I am, but this has nothing to do with that since we are not lovers."

"We're not?"

"No," you stated, leaning your head back against the wall with closed eyes. "We are, at best, accomplices."

There was no ignoring the sudden change in his energy. He grew quiet, as he so rarely did, and hardly moved to breathe.

As he sulked, you took care to remind yourself of what he was capable of––the strange things he'd said to you, even if they weren't entirely harmful, that had set you in a month-long mood of unease.

"You will stay here. Any attempt on your behalf to leave and I will have to punish you. Understand?"

"Then I am a prisoner," you said, your voice hoarse and broken.

"You are what you make yourself," he said in a much more stern tone, looking down at you with knowing, wary eyes. "If it is a prisoner, then so be it. But you will be, throughout all actions and situations, mine."

"I..."

"You belong to me."

He had not relented in his usage of that claim. In times of peace, in political unrest, he had kept you with him. In times of great bounty, of danger and uncertainty, you had not left him once, and you wondered how sick you would've gotten if you were to go back in time and tell your freshly-met self that you would spend the longer half of a year with him.

You supposed that, in the end, you had joined his collection. The only catch was that it cost him everything else in his ownership, including his kingdom. And yet he seemed perfectly content to lean on your side, even if harsh words came before the silence, and to wait till you returned his affections.

As he touched your shoulder, his muscles went lax, letting him fall limp against you. The moment he intook your scent he was gone, hypnotized by his own adoration for you.

Though your mind fell into a quiet stupor, dancers still circled the room in beat with music. For a moment you wondered how they'd react if they found out the Pharaoh was in their midst.

Aswan was a very Egyptian-type city considering it was still within the borders of Nubia. That meant less worker camps, less fear of Egyptian soldiers, and less knowledge on the impact the Pharaoh stressed upon higher up Nubian cities. Keeping that in mind, you assumed they would try to cozy up to him––spend some of his riches, flirt a little––however it was also possible they worshipped Amun and had already heard of Ahk's treason.

Music began to fade from your mind as the faint sound of footsteps sounded from below you, seeping through the cracks in the mud and wood. They appeared more succinctly the closer you listened, and soon you could identify the number, all marching in unison.

"Ahk," you shook him awake, eyes trained intensely on the floor, "we need to get out of here."

"What?" His sleepy face gave way for concern. "What? What's happening?"

"There's soldiers coming," you said, your grip on his arm tightening.

"Well – the man at the front said they come by every now and then. They haven't found the upstairs yet, they probably won't now," he said.

Muffled voices muttered from below the floor. Ahk opened his mouth to speak again, but you quickly silenced him with your hand, carefully tuning back into the conversation beneath you. A loud crash was followed by silence, and that combination had you jumping to your feet.

"What is it?" Ahk asked, much more panicked now that he noticed your own fear.

"They're coming upstairs," you said as you backed up through the crowd, disturbing those you bumped into.

"They're – oh fuck." Ahk's expression dropped. "The soldiers are coming!"

Ahk yelled his warning over the music, certainly loud enough to assure the soldiers that there were, in fact, people up here. Lutes and harps stuttered to a halt, the pounding of footsteps now clear through the walls.

Panic seized the partygoers. People trampled over one another reaching for their belongings casted aside, hurriedly adjusting them back onto their bodies and making for the windows. Like rats they climbed out, writhing over each other into a mass of fabric and limbs, followed eagerly by you and Ahk. Massive backpacks made it so you were the last out and the only two to see the soldiers yourselves.

The pounding door had you stuck in a trance, only able to back up towards the window. As it slammed open, you finally caught sight of the falcon-headed soldiers, their sharpened spears and sharper eyes, staring empty-minded at you as Ahk pulled you out the window.

"This way!" Came a voice from above you.

You and Ahk quickly looked up, finding a young woman offering you a hand from the rooftop. Ahk took no hesitation in grabbing it, allowing her to hoist him upwards. When he reached down to find your hand, he felt nothing, and panic struck his heart like a searing knife. He ducked his head down, watching the room upside down.

Muscled arms wrapped around your chest and face, blocking your mouth from making practically any sounds at all. The only sound you could make was from kicking your legs frantically.

He jumped back to his feet on the roof, spinning round to the woman who had helped him.

"I need a sword," he said in a rush, desperate eyes already begging.

"Um – ask Imar, I believe he has one," she said, pointing to the man who worked at the bar downstairs. Ahk thanked her in a rush and left.

"Imar!" He called as he jumped from one building's roof to another, approaching where most of the party-goers had gathered. "I need a sword, or a weapon of any sort. Crossbow even."

"I've got a sword, but I need it. There's a stock of axes over there. Don't know who they belong to, though, so take at your own discretion," he said. Ahk once more gave his thanks before running off.

The kink in your neck had only gotten worse the more you struggled, spiking pain down your spine and into your skull each time the soldier's golden bands pressed into the side of your neck. Your already travel-worn shoes were now nearly in shreds, pulling and pushing on the rough gravel roads, occasionally cutting the soles of your feet open. Thus far you had not been allowed to speak, one massive arm nearly cutting off your oxygen supply.

Although you couldn't tell for sure where they were dragging you, you assumed it was towards a temple, as the buildings around you slowly grew more complex and well-kept. A temple seemed a proper place where you could be thrown into whatever underworld Amun lived in.

Being a commodity fought over should've scared you more. There was a panic seizing your nerves, but you were numb to the surprise, instead saving your energy till you could outsmart the soldiers.

Squawking interrupted your harsh breathing, crying out from behind the falcon soldier. You opened your eyes to the dark of night, spying through the shadow-filled alleyway a running figure, followed by the heads of soldiers falling from the city's silhouette. It was then you recalled a very important fact––Amun and his soldiers might've been strong, but Ahk held within him a hunger unlike that of the starved. The hunger of the rich––of pigs and cannibals. A hunger that terrified you to your core.

The first soldier in your sight that emerged from the shadow of buildings soon stopped in its' tracks, tumbling down past its' own knees as the falcon head slipped off human shoulders. Your shocked eyes watched intently, darting upwards to see Ahk with a broad axe.

His blade came down on the last remaining soldier walking behind your captor, blood splurting from the veins and splattering on his face. Much of it landed on your foot, leaving a trail of red as you were dragged, legs still shakily kicking.

He held a finger up to his lips, hushing any muffled screams that might've come from you. Whatever he had planned, you let him do what he deemed necessary, and kept quiet to avoid the suspicion of the soldier restraining you. He raised his axe high above his head, as though he were to strike you down. Terror filled your eyes when the blade came screaming down, splitting the soldier's head in two before it could ever reach you, leaving no mark on you but the pouring blood of the falcon head. The grip on you loosened, and as you pushed yourself away the corpse fell to the ground.

Blood and nerves squelched as Ahk tore the weapon out of the skull, a horrible crack resonating in the empty street when the base of the skull finally split. He panted, droplets of blood falling into his open mouth as he turned to you, eyes frozen and wide.

"You alright?" He asked softly, in a tone so out of character from his current state.

"... yeah," you breathed out.

The axe clattered onto the ground, followed shortly by Ahk falling to his knees. From there he crawled the short distance to you, gently wrapping his arms around your middle, and pulling you into his lap. He buried himself in your neck, hid away in your warmth. The blood covering his midsection soaked through your shirt.

"Ahk, we need to leave, you know there's more of them," you said, though you did not cease in stroking his hair.

"I know," he mumbled, pressing himself tighter to you for a moment before releasing. "They didn't hurt you?"

"Nothing but bruises," you huffed. "Let's go."

You kept near the entrance to the tavern as Ahk wandered back inside, checking behind the counters and in the attic for any trace of the fleeing people. From the roof you could hear muttering, though you couldn't see anyone, and you could vaguely make out the words they were saying.

"Are you the one they're looking for?" A woman asked.

"I did anger an Egyptian god, yes," Ahk said with a curt nod.

"Imar!"

The man from the downstairs bar appeared from over the horizon of another tall rooftop. He was drenched in sweat, practically glowing in the dim moonlight.

"Yes?"

"These are the ones they want," she said, gesturing to Ahk.

"Really?" He said as he dusted his hands off. "The hell did you do?"

"I, um, attacked a God in order to save my.. um... Amoke," he answered rather sheepishly.

"You cannot stay here," Imar said firmly.

"I'm sorry, but we have many other people looking for protection. We will not risk them for two people who have private business with whatever kind of God you worship," the woman said.

"I understand. Keep safe. Do you have any ideas on where we could go for the night?"

"Try the old graves up on the hill. They hate desecrating the dead," she said before sending Ahk back off down the stairs.

Footsteps drummed for a moment before the door swung open, revealing the Pharaoh still covered in blood. By now it had dried, leaving much of it to flake off his clothes and skin, now a muddy brown instead of the vibrant red of before.

"Have you ever slept in a grave before?"

"What?"

You had expected him to ask, considering what you heard of the conversation, but you weren't wholly convinced he would actually allow himself to sleep in a tomb.

"A long while ago, I died for a little while. Well, I guess not that long ago. Two or three years. My brother killed me," he began as he started off down the steps, taking you with him as he directed you through the streets, "and I was buried. Piye returned from their banishment shortly after and dug me out of my grave... used their gift to give me life once more."

"... you're really expecting me to believe that?" You asked, almost ready to burst out laughing.

"You saw Amun come to life. There are flowers growing out of your arms. What part of my story is unbelievable to you?"

"Right," you mumbled. "Good point. So... did you sleep in that grave or something?"

"It's complicated, but I was conscious for some time, locked underground. Not Piye's magic. Khonsu's, I believe. Either way, it's not horrid if you have someone with you," he said, patting you on the back with a smile.

"Did you have someone with you?"

His expression fell, the hand on your shoulder going with it.

"I did," he said softly, offering no more than a bittersweet twitch of his smile.

Ahk caught it before you did––the trampling of numbered footsteps, growing steadily louder the closer you came to the upcoming street. You remained within your own thoughts, plagued by questions, and mostly ignorant to the slowing of his pace. Eventually he had to grab your hand, forcing you to hide behind the shadow of a tall building. You opened your mouth to say something, but he set his hand over your mouth, staring at you with an intensity that had terrified you only a little while earlier.

"They're coming," he mouthed in your ear, breath barely passing his lips as he spoke.

Steps grew louder and he pressed himself against you, squishing you to the wall with his chin on your shoulder. Pressure tightened around your chest, constricted your breathing, hastened the beat of your heart as you relied solely on your hearing.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

The clattering of armor, weapons, and shields rang through the marching steps, sending the imagery of shining, sharpened stone and arrows glinting in the moonlight.

"We need to go," he said beneath his breath.

Before you could ask what he meant, his hand encircled your wrist once more, pulling and forcing you down the other side of the alley. Chirps and squawks came from behind, making your pulse rush and swell beneath your skin. They would find you––bird brains though they were, they were still soldiers of a God, with eyes adapted for darkness. They would pull you into their hell and murder your... your Ahk.

Your Ahk.

You arrived back in your body when Ahk turned into an open, empty street, running uphill as he trained his sights on the tomb-filled mountains.

"We're not actually going to stay in a grave, are we?!" You asked as you ran, trying desperately to keep up with the long strides of the former Pharaoh.

"It is our safest bet," he said, tightening his grip on you. You still attempted to squirm out, however fruitless your struggle, and the proceeding panic had you soaked entirely in fear.

He kept you running till your legs burned, till he was fumbling over his own steps, too full of adrenaline to fully control his feet. Pebbles, rocks, and dust filled your sandals, scratching at your skin as it clung to your sweat. Your throat was still too tight to take in enough breath, leaving you part-way wheezing. Soon your own legs began to give way, scraping your knees and palms across rough dirt.

"Come, up," Ahk muttered as he helped you back to your feet, casting wary glances towards the city still ringing with the cries of falcons.

A few more minutes of scrambling up unused paths and you came to the foot of the hill, where the first graves had been set up. The long tunnels led into darkness, to a place you had never been before, where death would paint every wall. Few things in life truly terrified you––death was not among them, but the cruel afterlife of the Egyptians did. The tales you'd heard of the spells necessary to memorize, the weapons, the escorts, the protective magic one needed to have to brave what they called Duat had done that to you.

He didn't take to the first grave you saw, whose door was sealed shut from the outside with rope and wood. In fact he took you past halfway up the hills till he finally found a hole in which to hide, shoving you into the overwhelming darkness, and shutting the door partway.

All that you could hear was the trembling of your own breath, echoing in the empty, dank chamber. Despite the chilling cold the ground beneath you seemed wet, as though it had rained within the earth.

Clicking came from somewhere in front of you. Instinctively you pressed yourself against the wall, surprised to find not a cave wall but a carved granite wall. A flame burst before you as you realized this, revealing the whole of the cave, each wall covered in paintings of life and magic. Hieroglyphs lined every scene, rivalled only by the collection of yellow and white stars painted onto the lapis ceiling.

Your eyes scanned the walls around you and the ceiling, wandering down the pillars and towards the dirt floor. Across from you, Ahk leant his back against the wall, a flicker of light dancing on cloth ripped from his skirt. Now the material covered only the upper half of his thighs, leaving little to your imagination as he drew nearer to you.

"I'm afraid Nubian graves don't quite compare to the luxury of Egyptian graves," he said, setting his hand on your knee and running it up your thigh.

"When will we leave?"

"When our hunger becomes too great."

Ahk might've had good impulse control and lots of self control, but you did not.

"That'll be in days!"

"You're not very patient, are you?"

"Not when I'm stuck in a fucking tomb!"

"Screaming won't do you any favors, Amoke," he reminded you with a quirk of his brow.

Though you hardly had the consciousness of mind to recognize what he was doing, his hands had set to separating your legs, wedging himself inbetween them instead.

"I don't think the volume of my voice has anything to do with our predicament," you said scathingly, crossing your arms and turning away.

"Well, no, but you will hurt your voice. And my ears. This is a small room."

He had a point, but you were adamant in your decision to avoid his gaze. So instead you looked to the floor, your arms still crossed, and a small pout on your lip. Your eyes widened as you felt warmth on your neck, soft and somewhat wet. Ahk was kissing at your neck, one hand dangerously high on the inside of your thigh and the other squeezing your waist, in the middle of a tomb.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, beginning to worm in his grasp. The curt movements soon turned to struggle, your heart racing as he simply held you tighter, biting harsher at your neck.

"I could've lost you so easily today," he said softly between the ministrations of his lips.

"Amun almost kidnapped me, too, and you didn't act l –" he bit down and you gasped, "like this."

He simply chuckled and continued.

"I wanted to," he admitted after a moment. "He had no right to do anything to you. I've already lay claim."

"What?"

"You're mine. I found you first." Motions began to grow rougher, hands tightening on you as kisses became hurried and desperate. "My beautiful little toy... I won't let you go, never."

"Ahk, we're in a grave," you said, attempting to pull his hands off you.

In one swoop his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head. The weight of his body still rested between your legs, keeping them apart, and allowing him access to push and grinded himself against you. His strained breathing kept your shuffling feet company, a distraction from the heat welling in your stomach.

"Ahk..."

"You are a most beautiful sight," he murmured against your flushed skin. "Truly fit to be a god yourself."

The fear rushing through your blood was one unfortunately familiar––that same fear when you first met him. When he tied you to his bed for hours. When he stood above you with angered eyes, scanning the whole of your over-exposed body.

"This isn –"

"You told me you didn't love me... do you remember that?"

"... yes," you said, still unable to meet his eyes even as he pulled away to look you in the face.

"Then I suppose I have nothing to lose," he murmured, leaning into gift the softest of kisses, barely gracing the bow of your lip, "as all I want in this realm is your love."

"And what of your kingdom?"

"My kingdom is my duty. I do not enjoy ruling, but it is something I must do for the safety of families who now rely on a government to protect them. You, however..." he trailed off for a moment, biting into his bottom lip with a grin, "... you I enjoy very much."

A quick kiss to your lips and he resumed what he started, letting your entwined hands fall in favor of feeling you. His touch slipped up your shirt, feeling the heat of your skin until it grew too much to bear, and he began untying the knots of your clothes. Once he pulled the fabric off your shoulders, he leant back to pull his own coat off. The space gave you ample time to wriggle out of his weakened grasp, though you barely raised to your feet before he grabbed your ankle, pulling you back down and scuffing you in the process.

You turned onto your back, watching with heavy, quickened breaths as he pulled you to him till your hips met, hands and piercing eyes pinning you into place. For a split second an image flashed before your eyes––rope in his hand, silk beneath you, and a servant watching it happen. You shook your head to clear it away, opening your eyes in time to see him lay you flat on the earth.

"I love you," he murmured with a reverence so deep you could swear there were tears welling in his eyes. The hands on your hips slowly ran up your waist and over your chest, squeezing and teasing your senses. "Beautiful..."

He dipped down, like a hand of God descending from heaven to grasp the unholy that sits beneath. Kisses landed on your sternum, trailing up towards your neck, where his nipping teeth had already left dark marks. Unsure what to do with yourself, you let your hands sit above your head and allowed him to do as he pleased.

"I have waited forever to indulge in you," he said, the heat of his words beneath your jaw.

Your eyes flew open.

Haji warned you about this––or maybe it was Naguib, but he didn't seem to like you all that much. Either way, you recalled a spare bit of information given to you concerning the Pharaoh; he might've originally locked you in the castle to have his heirs. Was this what he was doing? Giving into what he'd first taken you for?

"Will you give me this?" He asked, inches away from your face, your leg kinked up upon his hip.

"What?"

"The easiest form of love," he said through a crack in his voice. From here you could clearly see what you'd spied earlier––tears. "I cannot seem to win your personal love. But I will take anything you give me, and I want this."

"... what?"

He ground his hips into yours, till you could clearly and distinctly feel something hard pressing against you. A soft groan fell from him. Part of you already knew what he meant, but another part was still stunned into stupidity, your wide eyes nothing but empty.

"I need you," he murmured.

Even with all the thoughts in your head, you couldn't manage a single word. Your mouth hung open, gasping when stimulated, but mostly silent with your own confusion. There was an appeal to Ahkmenrah––his beauty, his intelligence, his humor. Quite the array of good traits even without the fact that he held massive amounts of power, or did at one point. Yet you still couldn't let go of what you'd seen him do. It loomed over you like an eclipse, blocking your thoughts and stilling your mind in its' presence.

He didn't have the strength within him to stop himself. He would need your ardent refusal, even though he knew silence was a quiet no, to regain his control. It was a funny thing, seeing him so desperate––a man as composed as him, as aware of himself as him would be remiss to be such a shameful sight.

And it was you.

You driving a Pharaoh to his knees. You taking a man whose very essence was his control over his identity and tearing his image apart. Making him a devil in his people's eyes. You weren't even asking him to ruin himself, to take himself apart just to appeal to you even in the slightest––he was doing that himself. Willingly.

Your chest felt concave upon itself as he continued, numb to the realizations in your head. He pulled off your skirt, the ties in your clothes, till both of you were nude, him still locking your body to the ground. From this angle he could thrust against you, almost fucking your thighs as your wetness grew. Gasps and moans built in your mouth despite your efforts to keep an even expression. He delighted in your own embarrassment, laughing when you squirmed with your eyes shut tight and a hot blush on your face.

"Gods, you are... perfect," he said, devolving into a long, soft moan as the head of his cock began to prod at your entrance.

A rush of excitement––or perhaps just the simpler anticipation––ran through you, and you couldn't stop the sounds that left you as he pushed in. He stretched you, filled you perfectly, and for a moment you wondered if you had been denying yourself a taste of bliss.

As he kissed you, bitter iron filled your mouth and painted your tongue. At first you wondered if he had bitten too hard (or if you had), but in a short time you realized it was the dried blood, still caked onto his face and body.

Blood passing between your lips. Mingling with your breaths and moans. It became hard to distract yourself with the forceful thrusts of the Pharaoh above you, your mind instead set fierce upon your sense of taste, and the watchful, hooded eyes Ahk looked down on you with.

He soon noticed your sudden daze, and his thrusts slowed down, going deep instead of fast.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, though he didn't stop his movements entirely.

Your wetness squelched slightly, making you shut your eyes tight with embarrassment, your arms coming to hide your face from sight. Of course, Ahk was having none of that––he took your arms, carefully pinning them to either side of your head.

"A little shy, are you?"

"... this is my first time," you finally mumbled, turning away so you wouldn't have to see his reaction.

"Oh."

He stopped grinding into you. But you couldn't help yourself––you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him back into you and moaning when he was fully sheathed.

"Fuck," he groaned, eyes rolling up into his head. "Perfect little pet."

He pinned you to the floor as he finished, keeping you from scrambling away. There he kept you, warm on his cock, filling you with his seed as you whined helplessly.

Although he made an effort to take care of you, gently stroking your skin and kissing away what marks he made, the whole of the day left you both exhausted, and the bout of 'exercise' certainly hadn't helped. In the end you asked him to stop worrying and simply sleep at your side; he acquiesced, using his arm as a pillow as he faced you.

"Still hate me?" He asked, and though they would've been teasing words out of anyone else's mouth, you found sincerity in his expectant eyes.

"No."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #rami40

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toysoldiers-rwby · 3 years

Text

[CS] 13. And Look Good Doing It.

Cutting Strings

Characters: Penny Polendinda, Aurora Glade, Ciel Soliel, Ashley Xanthic Word Count: 4.8k

Goodbyes and beginnings.

Read on Ao3

Approval Rate: Unnecessary. Error: Enemy Unknown. Archive Encrypted. Memory Defragmentation 100% Complete.

“Day 377,” Penny said as the last words faded from her vision and her systems HUD disappeared. Her eyes telescoped, adjusting to her room rather than empty space.

The software maintenance ran a little longer than the estimated two hours. Though considering she was backing it up directly to a flash drive and encrypting it at the same time, it was within the acceptable margin of error. She detached herself from the maintenance station and set it on her folded cloths on her desk, waiting for instillation into Billy.

Sorrow and fear almost overwhelmed her for a moment. The last few days have been… sweet and sad. Aro kept PAWM’s spirits up, Focus almost fooling everyone about the time Ironwood had stolen from them.

Penny decided to focus on the memories that celebrated her 20th day of birth, according to the documents Xanthic had forged. Ciel looked rather annoyed that she was the youngest amongst the team was the most responsible. Aro and Xan corrected her statement as morally responsible which only annoyed the officer further.

With a giggle returned to the maintenance station. Usually Penny would enter sleep mode during her monthly tune up. With the cord plugged directly into her core, it had direct permissions and access to any necessary systems it needed. But this time Penny caught her bare reflection in the metal walls.

Aro’s favored nickname for May twisted Penny’s power unit. Doll. That was exactly what Penny looked like, artificial skin bare of organic imperfections and far too smooth over her metal chassis. She didn’t have muscles gave and flex like Aro’s back or shoulders. Her body didn’t tell a history with scars like Winter, or held secrets like May and Aurora. It was worse than a doll… even they had a belly button. Explicit dolls for adults could even be a substitute for intimate companionship-

Penny closed her eyes and immediately shut down that line of inquiries. During their remaining time together… even with an uncertain future, neither May or Winter was consciously pushing for sexual intercourse. In private and… faux private spaces; Aurora’s physical affection could easily overwhelm their judgment, May’s sweet behavior melted into something heated, or Winter would just tease and prod one of them until Aurora or Penny’s unpracticed restraint broke, but it never gotten far enough to be inappropriate. It was clear they all wanted to continue but the limited time they had left always soured the mood.

Her girlfriends had also reassured her that sex was an added benefit of a romantic relationship. She didn’t need to directly participate, they would be happy if she was in the same room watching, talking, or even left altogether. They only request she’d join in the ‘post orgasm cuddles’ as Aro put it.

Considering Penny’s fascination with their reactions… Observing is within her capabilities, at the very least.

Penny opened her eyes and watched the mechanical arm spin around her, slicing the artificial skin open with precision to only allow access to the panels of her chassis. As long as her core was intact, her body could be upgraded. Though… asking her father for such upgrades was… Perhaps Xanthic was a better alternative? If only she knew how much of her body was metal.

For a moment Penny analyzed the benefits of directly defying the General’s orders. Considering what the consequences had done to Aro and Xan, Penny immediately didn’t get far in her list of benefits.

The upgrades were done almost too soon for Penny’s liking. Another hour closer till departure. Penny went through the checks as if it would slow time.

Somehow her father had developed a small bio-fuel converter, allowing her to ‘ingest’ small meals. Penny tried it with one of Aro’s sweets, a hard candy that would hold off her oral fixation during class and made her kisses taste sweet according to May and Winter. Penny still saw no need for any gustatory sensors, but she the act of rolling her jaw, clenching and moving her tongue was rather soothing and satisfying stim. She crunched it and swallowed the pieces. There was no feeling of anything entering her systems, but no alarm that anything went wrong either.

Her coolant system was drained, radiator equipped with some ice Dust infused metal, and coolant system refilled with a mixture of more ice Dust. Apparently it was organic friendly and Aura reacting, as it was the same coolant flowing through her teammates.

Her joints were equipped to withstand more impact that better suited Penny and Aro’s fighting style. The only thing Penny could not test was her new gyroscope. Her partner’s Dust manipulation far exceeded any military equipment Atlas or any kingdom had. She could only hope it could withstand her partner’s constant fluctuating field. Though… if it failed she would need emergency work from Aro and Xan which would lead to them discovering her synthetic nature… and Ironwood would tighten his control over the pair. Penny desperately hoped her upgraded gyroscope worked as intended.

The last, but perhaps most important change was the belly button on her feature. Her fingers brushed over it, programing reading the indent as damage so she quickly rewrote the code to ignore her new belly button.

“Penny?” Dr. Pietro called through the door. A knock followed shortly after. “It’s… time.” He said softly.

“Be right there!” Penny called out. She slipped into her first layers for human modesty and then her stockings followed lastly by her dress and shoes. She tucked the flash drive into a pocket and opened the door.

Dr. Pietro gave her a bright smile and hug. Xanthic’s robots gave a deep and polite bow before walking in and taking her luggage. Dr. Pietro’s chair walked around Penny doing a mock inspection that settled his curiosity than anything.

“Upgrades working?”

“Yes, sir!” Penny chirped, rolling to the balls on her feet. “Everything is in optimal levels,” She saluted playfully.

Dr. Pietro laughed and lead her out of her room and into elevator to the exit… The walls where she spent her first seven months were nearly foreign to her. Has it always been so silent and… stagnate? The only warmth and comfort of this place was from her father. So Penny smiled and kept her attention on him, and the three little box on his lap.

“What’s that?”

“It’s uh…” Dr. Pietro laughed a little nervously, “For Ms. Soleil and Ms. Xanthic. An upgraded model of her eyes, some modifications to Ms. Soleil’s chakrams, and…Extra disk and memory storages for you. You’ve grown faster than I anticipated due to being exposed to a… wide array of characters so suddenly.”

Penny giggled behind a hand. The immediate image her simulators created was Xanthic arguing with everyone. The level of hostility is heavily depended on her level of boredom. She prevents herself from truly habituating to her environment, always causing trouble though lately she’d been too focus on passing her… responsibilities to the Happy Huntresses.

Her father smiled brightly at her reaction, “So Team APCX is doing well? I was rather worried at first…”

“Oh, please do not worry! It’s been absolutely wonderful!” Penny smiled. She felt her Aura stir in the chest from the near lie she told. Eventually Penny blurted out, “It was… hard. At first. But not anymore!”

Dr. Pietro smiled. “That’s a relief. It’s a shame APCX is leaving just as Ms. Marigold and Ms. Xanthic started to get along again.”

“… Again?” Penny asked.

“Oh yes! Before Ms. Xanthic changed her name and-” A loud crash just beyond the front doors interrupted her father.

"Her what horns?!"

“I’m running on 3 hours of sleep, I’m sorry it just slipped!”

“Hide behind me again and I will Slow you,” Ciel threatened.

The doors opened to reveal a small group of people. Her team, the Specialist supposedly advising them, and finally the Happy Huntresses. Of course the commotion would be caused by May and Xanthic. The hacker was surprisingly nimble, weaving through the small crowd when May looked like she was ready to strangle her. Or shoot her, Penny corrected as May knelt down, one half of her crossbowstaff aimed at Xanthic.

The hacker had run from the crowd and blindly towards the Polendinas. In a burst of gravity Dust she floated up before colliding with them. Aro waved at her former mentor and his daughter.

“Salutations Aurora!” Penny smiled launching herself into her partners arms. Her gyroscope kept track of the ground and the lazy twirls weren’t as disorientating. She found herself seated in Aro’s crossed legs, floating in the air for a moment while their foreheads was pressed together. Penny savored watching the slow way her eyes dimmed as Focus slept.

“Salutations, Penn.” Aro whispered with a happy purr.

“He… Hello, Dr. Pietro.” May muttered rising to her feet. She quickly trying to hide her weapon behind her back. Even fully retracted it still peeked from her shoulders. She walked to Xanthic and stiffly set her on the ground, awkwardly smoothing out the hacker’s clothing she may or may not have ruffled.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon,” Dr. Pietro said with a sigh. He gave the two disappointed looks. The two hotheaded bluenettes both flinched, the fight suddenly gone. May retreated behind Winter who laughed softly. Her father quickly approached Xanthic and Ciel before the hacker could flee too and presented her gift, “I know you said you didn’t want to change your eyes but… here is a version of the model you have. Same look, some new features.”

“… Thanks, Dr. Pietro.”

Aurora finally settled down and their feet finally returned to solid ground. Penny looked at Winter, ready to approach her but the Happy Huntresses intercepted. Fiona hugged her first but Joanna swept her up in a hug.

“We’re gonna miss you Penny!” Fiona said, voice a little flat from the pressure Joanna was applying.

“You’re such a rare flower in this cold*, cold kingdom*,” Joanna yelled glaring at Winter and May. Judging by their tentative glances at Xanthic it was because they were still at odds with her.

“Yeah, Swords. You really have a habit of livening the place up,” Robyn said. As always the leader was much calmer than her team and settled for patting her head and straightening her bow. “Take care of Aro?”

"Don’t you mean, Aro take care of her?" Aurora asked with a small pout.

“Your civilian ass needs all the help you can get,” Fiona teased. Aro rolled her eyes and let herself be pulled into a hug. When Joanna let go Fiona had somehow switched her hug from Penny to Aro. “Be good okay! Remember to eat all three meals, and to sleep. Don’t set buildings on fire! Unless…”

“They are SDC assholes.” Aro finished with a laugh. After another affectionate nuzzle Fiona jumped off and started to prounce towards Xanthic and Ciel. The officer quickly intercepted Fiona’s grabby hands. Aro gestured towards May and Winter, “Go on, I’ve… said my byes.”

“Did… did you ever answer May’s question?”

“I’m not leaving her,” Aurora answered quickly but calmly. Her sea-green eyes shined with tears that didn’t want to fall. “Never her. Atlas on the other hand…” She held the statement in her mouth with a distasteful growl.

“A lot can happen in four months,” Joanna said patting her shoulder. “Platinum for example,” She said with a large grin. Aurora blushed, glancing away. Penny could feel her Aura stir up some heat within her.

“Maybe we can turn it into a place you’ll actually come back too?” Robyn offered. The leader gave Penny a charismatic smile, “Go on, Swords. May is patient when she wants to be but make her wait any longer and she might cry.” Penny nodded waving the women bye as she approached Winter and May.

“Sorry but… can you go over Sector 17 again?” Joanna asked a little timidly.

“17 is mostly Xan’s responsibility though it heavily overlaps with 18 due to their high Faunus population.” Aro explained calmly. “A lot of family from the mines, a lot of heating leaks, not enough lien…”

Penny tuned out their conversation when May rushed forward, pulling her into a hug. Penny was a little surprised at how she lifted her off the ground and carried her onto the airship. Out of sight from her father, May gave her a proper kiss. Her kisses were always the most chaste, sweet and smiling. This time Penny could feel a heated desperation like the one she witness between her and Aro two weeks ago. Penny tried to quell it, holding her face and meeting the kiss just as hard.

When May had to breath Penny pulled back and was returned to the ground. A soft chilled hand drifted to Penny’s cheek, guiding her eyes up. Away from the cameras and in the privacy of the airship, Winter’s military façade fell away to a sad and resigned lover.

While Winter didn’t literally sweep Penny off her feet like Aro could the way that Winter would cradle her cheek and tilt her chin up would had the same effect. Penny rolled onto her toes and she’d forget to breath. Winter’s lips may be the coldest of the three but that only made Penny chase her more. Eventually Winter pulled back to breath and the two huntresses held Penny tight for a moment.

“Aurora said you two had a gift for us?” Winter said.

“Oh yes!” Penny smiled. She dipped into the cockpit for a second, looking under the seats. With her sharp eyes she barely made out the slumbering mechanical pet. She picked it up and set it down at May and Winter’s feet. To them it appeared as a roughly shaped metal rectangle with some fur on top. Their suspicions eased when Penny opened a hidden panel on the back of his neck and inserted the flash drive into it. Slowly the goat horns extended out from his head, “Billy 2.0!” She said with a large smile.

He was no longer a pocket sized mechanical pet but stood near the same height of a medium dog. Aurora modeled his appearance after the Kiko goat native to island areas, such as Menagerie. The top was covered with fur that tapered to make it look like it had a metal underbelly and sides. Billy’s new chassis was retractable, malleable or layered. He stretched, the fur moving and metal shifting in a way that mimicked organic flesh to a jealous degree.

Upon seeing Penny the no-longer-tiny-goat happily prounced, his speakers bleating. Then he looked up to Winter and May, head tilting side to side as hard-light question marks popped up next to his head.

Whenever Aro or Xan wasn’t preparing the Happy Huntresses to take over the responsibilities and… less reputable activities, they helped Penny upgrade Billy. Xanthic altered an unused AI core with intelligence far greater than even the most intelligent bred dogs.

Ciel had offer to test it at her place in Mantle to keep the others from finding it. During testing Billy was able to correctly clean the floor, return an assortment of clothing and footwear to their proper places and work the dishwasher. Aro did the physical upgrades and because of their preference for Dust, equipped Billy with a cuddle warming function and the hard-light emotes.

May gasped, eyes wide. “That’s so… cute!”

Hearts appeared next and Billy did a little happy dance. He nuzzled her legs affectionately. Billy made shook his head at her and clomped his feet when May didn’t respond. A hard-light instructional picture of ‘How to pet animals’ popped up and Billy wiggled his head and ears expectantly. “Wow… what a brat,” May said. She finally pet him and he danced happily again.

He wandered back to Winter blinking expectantly. Penny giggled at her face. The Specialist looked down at it a little confused, conflicted, and surprisingly overwhelmed. Tentatively she knelt down and held out a hand to which Billy immediately nuzzled against.

“… His fur is soft.” Winter murmured in surprised. “I’ve always wanted a pet as a kid. I was thinking about getting one after graduation but never had time.”

“Don’t worry, as a completely inorganic entity his needs are minimal.” Penny said.

“But he still has needs?” Winter asked a little amused. She was a little shocked when Billy nodded his heads. A few images appeared by his head. It consisted of sleeping, more petting, and walking.

At the sound of someone approaching, Winter immediately slipped back into her military persona. It was disheartening, but adorably so when Billy threw a small fit at the lack of attention and headbutted Winter’s leg softly. Her composure broke a little, looking down at her new pet.

Aro laughed at the entrance, “He’s also too smart for his own good,” She said. Winter’s façade melted into a sad smile. She readily accepted Aurora embrace as she wrapped her arms around Winter’s neck. The two shared a content smile before Aro leaned up for a quick kiss… but considering how Aurora likes to expose as much as that tattoo as possible Winter followed and pushed until her back was against the wall.

Penny saw a flash of teeth as it sunk into Aro’s bottom lip. The Faunus tried to stifle a groan, ears fluttering a bout. It was only when Winter’s hands grasp the clothing tight under Aro’s breast did May and Penny intervene.

“Ahem,” May cleared her throat. Winter pulled back and looked down at the disheveled former businesswomen. There was an unmistakable blush outlining her cheeks and blossoming on her chest, creating a lovely contrast with her tattoos. Her lips were a little swollen with the kiss. With a satisfied hum Winter stepped back leaving Aro dazed enough to slide down the wall a few inches.

“Come, Billy.” Winter said guiding him off the ship. She did give Penny one more kiss, a tinder one to the inside of her wrist before finally leaving the airship. Penny heard Fiona and let out a gasp and tiny squeals and she knew Billy was dancing and bleating at her. May laughed at Aro, pressing their foreheads together as she helping the Faunus to the pilot seat and straightening out her clothes.

Similarly May stole one more kiss with Penny, lingering as much as possible before she heard Xanthic and Ciel walk up the ramp. The two Spymasters frowned at each other. Xanthic smirked, “Please keep Fiona from burning sector three to the ground. They have the most racist clubs.”

“I… make no promises,” May mumbled. The huntress gave Ciel a much more civil farewell and left, giving Penny and Aurora a longing glance.

“First stop, Argus,” Aro said. “Next stop Beacon.” The airship lifted off but hesitated. From the windows they saw May quickly wiping her tears, a broken smile on her face as she waved them off with one hand, the other hand tightly holding Winter’s. Winter was much calmer, a somber smile and a small playful salute bye.

Penny wrapped her arms around Aro, careful not to jostle her control over the ship. The pair blew their girlfriends a kiss before finally rising in altitude, seeing a real smile break over May and Winter’s face even if the pair was a little embarrassed. With a sad sigh Penny took her rightful place in the co-pilot seat. Aurora put on some soft house music.

At first the flight was tense and sad. When it droned on to long Xanthic made an displeased noise and stood to hover at the cockpit. “You know I hate tension unless I’m the cause of it. So fucking quit it.”

“Sorry if I’m sad that I needed to leave the women I’ve been in love with for years!” Aro snapped back, eyes flashing. Penny and Ciel was a little taken back by the vicious anger. Penny had a hard time recalling a similar outburst, but the one with Turk filtered in.

Xanthic had known her… and dating her- and wasn’t fazed. She merely posed against the metal frame and raised a brow. The hacker let the radio roll on for a bit while Aro slowly simmered down. Penny watched with a small smile as Aro’s words finally registered and a blush appeared on her cheeks. “… You did tell her, right? That you loved her?”

There was a whine as Aro sunk into her seat a little. “No…” Xanthic looked at Penny for confirmation. Penny wrinkled her nose, trying to remember a direct declaration of love. There were many acts and words that shown it but nothing explicit. Penny shook her head.

“Too be fair action speaks louder than words,” Ciel said. Penny glanced behind and Xanthic moved a little so she could see the officer. Ciel was laid back flicking through the TV for something to watch. She stopped at a station committed to celebrities and gossip. They flicked through several pictures of Aro draped on May, their arms linked together, or trying to taunt the women into a kiss. A few of them involved hand holding with Penny, arms wrapped around her shoulder or a calm and affectionate smile… it seemed to be in a much more platonic perspective when compared with May.

“You obviously love all of them.” Ciel said. She finally clicked past the gossip stations. There was nothing about Winter’s romantic life. Penny looked at Xanthic who met her eyes with an unspoken challenge.

Xanthic broke it first, looking back at Aro, “You should have just gotten her name tattooed on your ass cuz she clearly owns it.”

“How crass, there’s two other people,” Ciel’s eyes lazily shifted to Penny, acting as if it was an afterthought she just remembered. “A collar is much more versatile.”

Aro made odd whines and the two chuckled at their leader’s expense. Satisfied with the change in mood Xanthic laid down on the sofa, feet up in Ciel’s lap. The officer glared but didn’t entertain the hacker with a fight or argument and continued flicking through something to watch.

Penny finally decided to have a fluid stance on the hacker’s attitude and behavior. There were a few times Penny was grateful for her need to be the center of attention and urge to keep things from habituating. Penny gladly added this occasion to the list.

The flight to Argus was faster than projected, but they were in a nonstandard airship built by one of the greatest minds in Atlas. As the bay doors open and light filled the airship Penny had a sudden realization.

“I’m on a different continent…” She whispered softly.

“First time out of Solitas?” Aro asked. Penny grinned up at her and bounced in place. The Faunus smiled and took her hand. Before APCX stepped out Focus woke up and shined through her pupils. “I promise to make up for Cordovin.”

Penny frowned. It took a moment for Penny’s systems to access her preinstalled data and scroll down the list of Specialist to find Caroline Cordovin. A long list of… notes, were hidden under high level credentials.

“Ms. Aurora Glade!” The women greeted just as APCX stepped off the ramp. Penny smiled politely down at the women, but she didn’t have the magical concentration Focus gave Aurora. Ciel and Xanthic openly scowled at the next words that bellowed from the tiny women, “The shining jewel of what Atlas could bring to the world!”

Glancing at her partner, Penny saw Focus flash, reattuning for a subservient role in this conversation. Aurora laughed gently, scratching the back of her head in faux embarrassment. There was no blush and no flittering ears. Instead she was trying to fluff out her hair to appear softer. Despite the buzz on the sides of her head, Aro’s hair was still thick enough to accomplish that.

"Oh and company," Cordovin added, gaze lingering with distant at where Aro and Penny’s hands intertwined.

“Team APCX,” Xanthic quickly correct. Cordovin just waved the hacker off leaving her to scowl in open surprise. Ciel and Penny tried not to snicker or giggle at her face.

“Thank you, Specialist Cordovin.” Aro said, business voice smooth and low. “I will ensure your compliments reach my former mentor on my next return to Atlas.”

Cordovin smiled brightly and seemed to preen. “Of course you will! A civilized Faunus like you knows proper etiquette.” Penny moved racism to the top of Cordovin’s… notes.

“Ms. Glade!” A civilian with tangled mess of clearance badges and other tags ran up to her, followed closely by two of guards. “A moment of your time… or hour,” CCT Technician Terra Cotta asked, pushing up her glasses.

“Sorry ma’am. You lack the proper clearance levels for this area-”

Aurora interrupted the guard with a gentle laugh, but the hand in front of her face seemed to hid baring fangs. “Military still giving you issues?”

“Ms. Glade had far more pressing matters she needs to is scheduled to be attending,” Cordovin snapped. With a wave of her hands the guards cornered the technician.

“I’m sure Iron, G-General Ironwood,” Aro quickly correct, Focus briefly flashing at full potential before shrinking down to her pupils again. “Would greatly approve of any measure taken to avoid a communication failure between Kingdoms.” She said demurely. Penny must have been making a face because Xanthic and Ciel tried to hide their snickering.

“Hmm…” Cordovin rubbed her chin in thought. “Very well. Just remember you’re true purpose here, Ms. Glade.”

“To help protect Atlas and her people outside the kingdom.” Aro gave a graceful bow. Penny looked to the sharp tips of the horns that glistened in the sunlight. "How could I ever forget about the Kingdom that has done so much to me."

Of course Cordovin wasn’t tactile enough to notice the words. Penny smiled with some satisfaction as the women seemed content and turned to leave. After all military personal followed their leader away, Aro straightened. APCX and the technician laughed softly, Focus vanished and soft snarling expression on curling Aro’s lips.

Terra snorted, “Come on, let’s get you and your friends out of here.” She said leading them to the gates away from the Atlesian military base.

“We aren’t friends,” Xanthic quickly protested crossing her arms.

Terra gave a teasing smile, looking at the halo and horns “Girlfrie…” Her words drifted off as she finally noticed Penny and Aro’s intertwined hands. Possibly because Penny purposely pulled Aurora closer and her face may have been in an angry pout. “R-Right… teammates!” Terra quickly turned around trying to hide the panic look across her face. “Sorry. Aro always had a thing for blue hair and… you kind of remind me of Silvio Watts…”

Penny hummed angrily, glaring up at the halo. Aro laughed softly, giving her an affectionate and reassuring nuzzle. Followed by a kiss when Penny pressed their lips together.

“Actually Terra… Xanthic is more than capable of helping you with the CCT issues,” Aro said. Terra raised a skeptical brow at Xanthic. The technician seemed unnerved by the way her prosthetic eyes stared back. “She’s kind of… an unofficial protégée of Author Watts.”

“How did you manage that?” Terra asked Xanthic. “Dr. Watts only took on his nephew and just barely. He was so hard on that poor boy.”

Xanthic blinked slowly at her. “Good thing the dead can’t stop people from rifling through their research,” She responded coldly. Terra gave Aro an alarmed and concerned look and she gave a shrug of her muscular shoulders.

Ciel gave Penny an amused smile. “Never a dull moment with the anarchist.”

“What? A new school and kingdom not entertaining enough for you,” Xanthic said with an offended drawl. “At this point you should pay me for being your personal entertainment.”

“I’m not paying for a shitty escort.”

“Bitch, did you just…”

Penny smiled, rolling her eyes at the pair and looked around to take in the sites. Once away from the military base, she could clearly see the mixture of cultures. The buildings looked to be Minstral with Atlas functionality added in. Penny rested her head against Aro’s shoulder and enjoyed the kiss to her head.

Day 1 away from Atlas. Day 1 free from General Ironwood.

With a grin and a nervous laugh Penny pulled Aurora forward, to explore the new city.

#Penny Polendina #fic #cutting strings #pre-fall of beacon #aurora glade #apcx #ciel soleil #ashley xanthic #pfenning #qued

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

Seven Inches - Starker Tailor!AU

Find it here on AO3

Wrote this piece for the lovely bean Lien for a very unplanned fic exchanged that somehow blew itself into existence! <3 She needed a tailor!au in her life. Well, here ya go sweetie!

Summary: Peter's hands are a little shaky as he wraps the tape measure around Tony’s chest and huffs a frustrated breath when the tips of his fingers slip past his ribcage. “Kid, it’s okay. You can touch me,” Tony smirks, clearly amused at Peter’s awkward attempts to avoid touching him.

Aside from being in college and keeping his neighborhood safe in the evening hours, Peter Parker works in May's Tailoring shop as a Tailor In Learning. One day, Tony Stark, Peter's all-time-favorite idol, sets foot in the shop. It doesn't take long for Peter to figure out Tony wants more than a suit.

---

Seven Inches

Peter hums along with the soft beat of Señorita as he hits the ‘send’ button for yet another order. The man that had been here earlier had wanted a special jacquard wedding suit. Peter loves tailoring wedding suits. Loves it when his customers have specific requests. In the end, they opted for a black tropical print as that matches the man’s dark slicked-back hair perfectly. The print is going to look perfect on the jacquard fabric and he can’t wait to see the end result of this particular piece. He hopes the man will love it but he feels pretty sure about this one. He glances at the clock behind him and smiles. Two more hours to kill before he gets to go home and finally play that new video game with Ned. His best friend had been bragging about for weeks in a row now. It’s hard balancing working in May’s shop, attending lectures, and studying to pass his exams and on top of that also being Spider-Man at night. Ned understands that Peter doesn’t have a lot of time to spend with him, but whenever they do it’s definitely some high-end quality time.

Peter looks up startled at the jingling noise indicating that another customer has walked into the shop. Peter looks up from his clipboard and a smile immediately finds its way onto his face. After years of working in May’s shop, it has become an automatic reaction. A Pavlov reaction to the bell. Peter grins at the thought. “Good afternoon, Sir, welcome to-” Peter’s voice catches in his throat when he sees that the man is no one other than Mr. Tony Stark. He gulps and mentally kicks himself for his reaction. “-welcome to May’s Tailoring, how may I help you?” Mr. Stark sends him his characteristically charming smirk and doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he eyes at Peter, causing the boy’s cheeks to flush. “You’re not May Parker, are you?” Peter is dumbfounded for a moment until he spots the man’s playful demeanor and laughter bubbles up in his throat. He shakes his head sheepishly and relaxes. “No, Sir. Peter. Peter Parker. I work here every now and then.” “How convenient. You’re her son?” “Nephew.” “Fair, fair-” Tony teases and walks up to the counter, still eyeing him. “We must’ve missed each other the other times I’ve been here, I-”

“You’ve been here?” Peter blurts only then realizing his mistake. “I-I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to pry, I just-” Peter cuts himself off before he makes this situation even worse. He always told himself he’d act cool if he would ever meet his idol. Well, so far for keeping it casual. Mr. Stark must get this all the time and Peter wishes he’d been able to contain himself instead of exposing his inner fangirl from the very first second. Tony waves it off nonchalantly. “Don’t stress it, kid. I’m flattered.” He clears his throat to break the slight tension. “I need a new suit, obviously. Do you take measurements too or are you only in here for sales?” “No, no I do. Aren’t your measurements in our system already, Mr. S-” “No.” Peter cocks an eyebrow at the man and the billionaire rolls his eyes. “Well, they are. However, I’m not exactly consistent in my health habits so,” he gestures at his own body. “-I want to make sure it actually fits.” “Of course. What are you looking for?” Peter opens the right tab in the computer’s system to fill our the information and have a quick check at the old numbers anyways. Any reference would only make his job easier. He can’t believe May never told him about this. She knows just how obsessed he is with the CEO of Stark Industries, or Iron Man. Both. The dark-haired man in front of him is both genius and hot. Peter looks up to him, only hoping to ever be that smart or handsome. He sighs quietly and a faint smile plays on his lips. This, this is exactly why his aunt kept it in the dark.

“Well, I have this stupid gala coming up and I’m looking for a royal blue lounge suit. Preferably with three buttons, single-breasted. The linen May used last time was perfect, is it still available?” Peter quickly scribbles down the man’s requests on the little notepad he keeps at the counter and then glances up at the screen to figure out what exact fabric the man’s talking about. “Oh, I’m afraid that one only comes in either burgundy, black, or a cloudy gray. We do have a very similar fabric that might come in blue, let me check, and-” “Burgundy.” “What?” “I’ll go with burgundy. I love that fabric and I don’t think I own any piece of clothing in that color yet.” “Are you sure, Mr. Stark? It really is no big deal to find something blue,” Peter tries, not wanting to make the man feel as if there are no options to choose from. Heck. The options are endless for a man so wealthy. Tony shakes his head adamantly. “I want this one.”

Peter shrugs as he decides not to question nor judge the man’s impulsive choice and he picks up his pen to cross ‘royal blue’ and add ‘burgundy’ instead. He opens the top right drawer to take the tape measure - which of course isn’t there. Tony snorts at Peter’s displeased face. “You’re exactly like your aunt.” “She’s the only reason things are never where they’re supposed to be.” Peter sighs, his tone playful though. He loves his aunt, and there should be enough tape measures around the shop to make up for the one he can’t find right now. They’re scattered everywhere. “I should be able to find one… Here!” Peter grins triumphantly as he grabs one from the bottom shelf in the closet behind him. “Let’s get to the back, Mr. Stark.” “Tony, call me Tony.”

Peter has to force himself to not stare at Mr. Stark’s gorgeous body in front of him. All the man is wearing now are the tight black boxers and it has Peter half-hard in his jeans. He can’t stop glancing sideways as he expertly takes the necessary measurements for the sleeves and shoulders of the lounge suit. Blushing every time his finger’s brush past Tony’s warm skin. He tries. He really tries to keep his hands from touching but completely dodging it is simply impossible with this job. He scribbles down the numbers on his little notepad and bites down his lips as he realizes the next step is the man’s chest. His waist. His hips and then, oh god, his thighs. Peter gulps as he steps towards Tony’s right side. He’s a professional. He’s done this countless times. Fuck, May trusts him to run the shop by himself, and here he is, thinking the most inappropriate thoughts about the richest man of the States. He has to get a grip on himself, but it sure doesn’t help that the man stars basically all of his dirty little fantasies. His hands are a little shaky as he wraps the tape around Tony’s chest and huffs a frustrated breath when the tips of his fingers slip past his ribcage. “Kid, it’s okay. You can touch me,” Tony smirks, clearly amused at Peter’s awkward attempts to avoid touching him. “Mr. Sta- Tony. I’m so sorry. I don’t usually get like, well, this-” his cheeks flush even more and he groans. He couldn’t even keep his mouth shut if his life would depend on it. “Mmh-” Tony hums playfully. “-get on with it then.” Peter looks up at Tony’s face and the blatant flirtatious grin knocks the air out his lungs. Oh, God. This isn’t happening. He feels the little surge of arousal in his groin and licks his lips, casting his eyes down at hands. At the number that indicates the perimeter of Tony’s chest. Right. He’s taking measurements. The sooner he finishes this, the sooner he can forget about his embarrassing behavior.

“I’m just gonna…” his voice trails off and he bites down on his lip as he sinks down onto one knee at Tony’s side. Peter wraps the tape around Tony’s thigh shakily and he’s ashamed to admit he loves the strong, lean muscles underneath his touch. Tony shifts his weight, causing the muscles to tense, and Peter nearly gasps. “Boy, you alright down there?” “Yes, yes Sir. I-” “Tell me, kid. How old are you?” Peter’s head shoots up at that, searching the man’s face. He isn’t exactly certain why the man is asking him that. He has an idea, though, and the mere thought has his breath hitch in his throat. “I’m nineteen, Sir.” “Good to know. Now, finish up.” “Of course,” Peter rushes out and scribbles down the number. The stern order finally clearing his mind a little and his hands find back their usual rhythm. It doesn’t take long for him to finish. His eyes scan past the page quickly to see if there’s anything he’s missed, but nope, he’s all good like that, so he gets up from the floor, taking a step back.

“Alright, Tony, you can uh, dress again. I’ll see you at the counter to discuss the details.” “Sure thing, Peter.” The man doesn’t move though and Peter wonders what would happen if he’d drop to his knees again. Would Tony take the offer? He wants to ask. He’s so close to actually going for it. He can’t, though. He wouldn’t be able to stand the rejection. This is Tony fucking Stark, and he’s just some kid working in his aunt’s shop. Surely Tony must’ve had better offers. Without another word, he turns his back to Mr. Stark and makes his way to the counter to fill out the digital form to complete the order.

He almost asked the man to fuck him, and he’s not sure whether he’s relieved or disappointed that he didn’t.

“May?” Peter squeaks and he groans at the way his voice betrays him. He hopes May will simply see it as his usual nervous babbling and won’t blink an eye. “Can I work this Thursday?” May looks up from her iPad and smirks, rolling her eyes at him. Peter blushes. She knows what he’s up to. “This is why I didn’t tell you, Pete.” “I know, I know!” He exclaims and sinks into the couch. “But now that I found out, surely you can’t deny me that little bit of pleasure?” May grins at him, shaking her head. “Fine, fine, I’ll take a day off. God, he’s sexy isn’t he?” His aunt wiggles her eyebrows at him. “May!” She laughs and Peter blushes. She found out just how deep his obsession with the billionaire ran one day a couple years ago when she walked in on him jerking off to one of his many posters. It’s hands down one of the most embarrassing moments of his entire life. She didn’t judge him for it, though, Peter is still very grateful about that. It also had been his coming-out to her, the first time he ever told anyone he’s gay. She simply gave him time to get dressed and then they talked about it for a bit. No matter how mortifying the start of the conversation had been, the moment definitely made him grow a stronger bond with her. She’s so much more than his aunt now. She’s his big sister. His friend. Maybe even his parent - something he still finds hard to wrap his head around but it’s the truth.

“Well, isn’t he? I don’t believe you didn’t watch at his abs.” “Hnnngh, I did actually.” “See?” “Fuck, he’s hot, May.” Peter groans, hugging a pillow into his chest. “Should I even help him again? Isn’t that like, against tailor-ethics?” “Oh you, don’t worry so much about it. Just don’t do anything stupid.” She pauses for a moment and Peter figures he shouldn’t tell her how he almost offered the man to fuck him right there and then. “No matter how cocky the man presents himself, he’s not like that at all.” “What do you mean?” “I can’t say I know him, but… I’d say deep down he’s genuinely a sweet man.”

Those are the words that echo in his mind when Tony walks into the shop that Thursday. Peter musters a smile onto his face and can’t help the tingly feeling from spreading through his chest when he sees Tony’s eyes light up as he spots Peter behind the counter. “Morning, kid!” “Good morning, Sir.” Peter beams, knowing he doesn’t have to address Tony like that. He wants to, though. It has a nice ring to it. “You’re too polite for your own good, kid,” Tony grunts, walking up to him. “-good to see you again though. I was hoping you would be here.” “You were?” “Yeah.” Tony sniffs and leans forward on the counter. Peter’s breath catches in his throat. The man’s face mere inches away. His eyes so daring and playful that Peter is almost dreading the next string of words. “You’re cute.”

Peter’s cheeks burn up and he swallows, a sudden bold feeling overcoming him when he too leans on the counter and grins. “What exactly are you implying here, Mr. Stark?” The man grins at the question. “I like boys like you, Peter. Young. Handsome. Cute.” Tony licks his lips and stands up straight again. “I’m no predator, though. I’ve laid out my cards, and I’m leaving the choice up to you.” Peter can’t believe what he’s hearing. Can’t believe how straightforward Tony is. Oh God, Mr. Stark thinks he’s handsome and cute. Fuckable. “I-I-” he stutters, fingers digging into the counter, only to let go quickly. He doesn’t want to accidentally break the wood with his super strength. Tony doesn’t give him time to answer. “So, how’s my suit?”

Peter inhales sharply, trying to recompose himself. He’s at work. He should do his damned job. May wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t. “You can try it on in the back. There’s a large mirror directly on the right. Call me if you need me.” Peter picks the right suit from the rack behind him and hands it to Tony. Smiling innocently. Two can play a game. He knows the man has worn so many suits in his life that he would never actually need Peter’s help. He hopes Tony will pretend, though, pretend not to know how it works. Calling for Peter to rescue him. He sighs out loud, glancing at the doors. Peter isn’t usually very confident with things like these, but Tony is so clearly hitting on him that he wants their little game to continue. Please, please call out for me.

“Peter? I think I need some help.”

Ever since that day, Peter checks May’s work schedule obsessively. She notices but doesn’t really comment on it. She’s sweet like that. Peter knows Tony could drop in without an appointment as well, like last time. He tries to work as many shifts as he can with his college schedule. Just in case. Just in case the man will step in to demand yet another suit. Peter’s not gonna lie, he’s been watching the new interview with Mr. Stark where he actually wears the burgundy suit they had with him right before the gala. The color just fits so well with the man’s tanned skin and his dark hair. Watching him wear it makes Peter’s mind flash back to the teasing that occurred in the shop and he can’t help think of it as his suit. Peter’s.

Peter is actually splayed out on his bed now. He’s got half an hour to kill before he leaves to the shop again so he scrolls through Tony’s Instagram account, gawking over the beautiful pictures from the same night. He remembers his fingers brushing past the man’s skin. Remembers kneeling, feeling his strong thighs flexing underneath his touch. Most of all, he remembers the soft “Pretty boy,” the man had whispered, fingers dragging through his curls while Peter had checked how well the suit fits him. It’s been three weeks. Three long weeks in which Peter has jerked off every single night just thinking about those words. Imagining how it’d feel to have the man pushed balls deep inside of him. His fingers swipe up on the phone screen and tap on his contact list, scrolling down until he sees Tony’s name appear on the screen. He knows it’s not exactly fair but he saved it in his phone from the information Tony gave them for the shop’s clientele system. Tony’s only one call away. However, Peter can’t bring himself to follow through. He hates it. He hates how he doubts everything. He isn’t sure whether he just wants to fuck the man or go on a date with him. Perhaps both. Maybe nothing at all. He’s worried he only likes the man because he’s been idolizing him for years now. Because when he thinks about it, even in the store, they haven’t actually talked much. Some jokes here and there, some basic information he needed for the suit and the sexual innuendo from last time. That’s it. But then, people fuck actual strangers. Peter at least knows who this is. That’s already a plus, right? Gosh, sleeping around has never been this difficult. Not that he’s done it often but it’d definitely been different.

He sighs, dragging his ass out of bed to leave for the shop. The longer he waits here the more he’ll start to doubt himself. At least work will distract him for a bit. With Valentine’s Day coming up there are more requests than usual and Peter loves keeping busy. He fastens the shoelaces tightly and smiles at himself in the mirror, readjusting the collar of his white button-up shirt. “May, I’m off!” “Wait- Pete hold up!” May’s voice comes from the kitchen and he cocks an eyebrow as he waits for her to catch up with him. “I just got a phone call. Guess who?” Peter’s eyes widen. Either it’s Mrs. Cortes from the apartment beneath them or Mr. Stark. Seeing the shimmer in May’s eyes, it’s the latter. “No way!” “Yes, Peter. He asked for you, specifically. He’s coming in at two for a new suit.” Peter’s mind is spinning. He’s seeing his crush again. Tony Stark asked for him. “Peter, is there something going on that I should know about?” “No? I mean? I don’t know?” May raises her eyebrows at him and Peter groans. “I think he wants to fuck me?” “What?! Peter!” “I know! I don’t know!” He exclaims and adjusts the backpack sliding off his shoulder. “He’s been hinting at it?” “And you want him to, that’s why you’ve been working at the shop so much lately.” May groans and shakes her head. “Peter, I don’t even know what to say. Did something happen?” Peter shakes his head frantically, blushing. “Just… Flirting.” “Flirting. You’ve been flirting with our most important customer.” “He started it!” May huffs at his words and Peter knows he fucked up big time. “Look, May, I’m sorry-” “Peter. I don’t… I’m not angry with you. It’s just...” May sighs and Peter presses his lips together. “Mr. Stark is handsome. Sexy. I know that he’s your superhero and all that. He’s charming and sweet, but I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

What?

“You’re not going to fire me?” “No. I guess I’m not. I probably should, but, you’re old enough to decide who and who not to fuck. And I can’t blame you for wanting to ride his di-” “May!” Peter’s cheeks are glowing hot with embarrassment now. “What? I’ve been young too. You think I never did anything like that?” Peter squeezes his eyes shut to banish the intrusive images from his thoughts. He did not want to know that. “Just be careful. He’s more than twice your age. I want you to really think about this.” May sighs, shaking her head. “And please lock the door, I don’t need to lose customers to this.” Peter can’t believe what she’s saying. Is she really telling him to go for it? “May, I don’t-” May simply grins at him and presses a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “Have a good day at work, honey!”

It’s safe to say Peter anxiously waits for 2 pm to come around. He’s a wreck. Now that May knows about this it’s so real. So very real that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s an easy day, only one appointment at 10 am for a simple black tux. The man bought one by himself but the sleeves were two inches too long. He promised the man it would be ready tomorrow and Peter was thanked for the quick service. Peter mindlessly worked on both sleeves and stored the jacket away carefully when he was done. May still needs to teach him a lot, but the sleeve work is something he can do himself. He stares at the clock. Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes until Mr. Stark will walk in here again. God. Peter is horny. And scared. What if it’d been nothing more than a silly game? But then, the man had told him he’d wait for Peter to make a move. That seemed to be a pretty serious offer.

Right?

The door jingles and Peter jumps up startled, his head whipping around only to find the devil himself standing in the doorway. Peter gulps. He’s wearing the burgundy suit. Tony Stark is wearing his suit. “H-Hello, Mr. Stark,” he stammers. “You’re early.” “I arrived precisely when I meant to,” Tony joked, referring Lord Of The Rings, and Peter can’t help chuckling at that. “Didn’t take you for such a nerd.” Peter snorts and visibly relaxes now that Tony is actually here. The man fake-gasps. “Did you just call me out on my fantastic taste in movies?” “I may have.” “Well, then you’re a nerd too. Knew that from day one though.” Tony jests. Peter raises an eyebrow at him and shakes his head slightly. “What gave it away?” “Are you aware that you wear batman vans to work?” Peter blushes and glances down at his feet. Dammit. He wears the pair so mindlessly that he hadn’t given it a second thought. Ever. Okay, he is a nerd.

“So, how can I help you, Gandalf?” Tony snickers and shakes his head. “Need a new suit.” “Something wrong with this one?” Peter waves at the burgundy one he’s wearing now. “No, I love it. I’ve got a little press conference coming up though, and well, I need to spend my money on something now don’t I? I was thinking a deep blue tweed suit. Do you two work with that?” “A tweed suit? I- Yes, we do.” Peter scribbles it down again and then searches for all the possible options in the system. “Alright for deep blue we have two options.” Peter turns the screen around so Tony can see. “The first one is woven using the herringbone structure. The color is slightly darker than… This one, woven using a twill structure. It might feel more sturdy but the color is lighter.” “Which one do you recommend?” “Depends. Herringbone is classier, twill more casual. Most people won’t see the difference...” “But you do.” “I do.”

It’s silent for a moment. Somehow, those words were spoken like a confession and they both feel it. Peter looks up at Tony and sends him a little smile before reaching for the tape measure that’s dangling from his neck this time. “Peter,” Tony breathes, his nostrils flaring. “-is this you making your choice?” “Well, Mr. Stark…” Peter grins and walks to the entrance. The loud click when he turns the key is his answer. He turns the sign, stating that the shop is now closed. When he turns around again, he tilts his head slightly. “Follow me.” Peter walks past Tony, not waiting for the man’s response. This is his chance. He knows the man wants him.

“Alright. If you would please undress yourself, Sir? I can take your measurements.” Tony raises his eyebrows at him. “You already have my-” “Wouldn’t want to risk your suit not fitting due to your fluctuating health habits now would we.” Peter teases, repeating the words Tony had spoken to him the first time. Tony licks his lips and moves his hands up to unbutton the burgundy jacket. Peter watches how Tony undresses himself slowly. He’s not even trying to be sexy about it. Quiet. Practical. Almost authoritative and Peter’s already hard again. When the man pushes the pants down, Peter’s pleased to see the man is hard too. And fuck, he’s… Well, big. “Get to it, boy.” “Yes, Sir.” Peter rushes and he takes the tape between both his hands to work through the little measuring ritual. Just as he did the first time. As he always does. Starting with the wrists, lower arm length, upper arm length. This time he doesn’t try to minimize the contact with Tony’s skin. The opposite. He takes every chance he gets to trails his fingertips past the man’s body. He deliberately steps in front of the man when he measures his chest. It’s unprofessional to stand in front of a customer instead of at the side, and yet that’s why it feels so exhilarating. He takes a step closer as he wraps the tape around the man’s hips, his hands lingering just above the hem of Tony’s underwear. He doesn’t cave in yet. Instead, he looks up at Tony who’s staring back at him, eyes full of lust. “I just need to measure your legs, Sir.” “Get on your knees, then.” Peter moans and obeys, slowly sinking down until his knees hit the floor. His face is just inches away from Tony’s crotch but he doesn’t break eye contact with the man towering over him. “That’s it,” Tony coos, his hand reaching out for Peter’s curls. The boy gasps when Tony grabs a handful and tugs slightly. “Such a pretty boy.”

The sparks that rush down Peter’s spine have him gasp. For the first time he realizes how this man will be a complete different fuck than than the handful he’s had. This man is older. Has a shit ton of experience. He’s impatiently patient. He’s going to make Peter work for it and the thought alone sets off another surge of desire coursing through his veins. His hands are sweaty and trembling as he brings them up to circle the tape around Tony’s strong thigh. “You’re so strong, Mr. Stark.” “You like that?” “Mh-mh, I do.” “If you’re good for me and finish the measurements, I may just allow you to kiss them.” Peter whines at the blatant promise and his hands move down, mindlessly finishing up his measuring series. He can’t really concentrate on it. All he notices is how the grip in his hair changes, tugging more, making him tip his head to expose his neck. Pushing him down, making him bow. He’s a puppet, Tony controls his every single move. He’s never submitted to someone so easily and he’s never loved it as much as he does now. “Peter, look at me.” Tony forces Peter’s head to tip back and he gasps, staring up with his big brown eyes. With his free hand, Tony pushes his boxers down and Peter nearly chokes at the sight of just how big he actually is. It’s a beautiful cock. Hard, fierce, massive. Peter wants to taste it. Wants to lap his tongue at the hot skin to taste the salty precum. “Measure it.” “Wh-” “I’m not repeating myself.” Tony smirks and Peter shuffles closer. Bringing his hands up carefully. He whimpers when his fingers touch the cock as he presses the tape against both the base and the tip. “Tell me how big it is, Peter.” Peter moans as he looks at the number. Oh god, that’s bigger than average for sure. “S-Seven inches, Sir.” “Have you ever had anyone that big?” “No, I haven’t.” “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, sugar.” Tony growls. He opens his free hand and curls his fingers in a demanding motion. “Give me the tape measure.” Peter easily complies and gives it to Tony. The man grins and wraps it around Peter’s neck to pull him in closer. Peter wants to lean in, wants to take that pretty cock into his mouth so badly, but the grip in his hair holds him back. “You sure you want this, Peter? Do I have your full consent?” Peter nods furiously. Yes, he wants this. Wants everything. “Yes, Mr. Stark. I do.” “Good. Suck.” Tony yanks the boy forward using both the tape around Peter’s neck and the grip in his curls. Peter gasps, scrambling forward and parting his lips to catch the man’s cock in his mouth. He moans, lips closing around the soft flesh and drags his tongue across the tip, eliciting a moan from Tony. Oh god. He just made Tony Stark moan. For him. The thought spurs him on and he sinks deeper onto it, loving how it fills his mouth. He’s got the worst gag reflex, already knows he won’t be able to take it fully, but he sure as fuck knows how to work his tongue to make the man’s knees buckle.

“Oh, oh damn, boy, you’re so fucking good at this. Been wanting this the second I laid my eyes on your pretty face.” Peter whines around the cock and shuffles closer. He doesn’t use his hands, somehow he knows Tony wouldn’t allow him to if he tried. He’s bobbing his head up and down, the musky smell pleasing him to his very core as he manages to suck deeper and deeper with each thrust the man makes. “I want you to touch yourself, dear. Take that cock out and stroke it for me. Don’t go slow. I want you to wreck yourself, understood?” Peter nods as much as he physically can in this position and moves both his hands down. Quickly unbuckling the belt and shoving the fabric down just enough for his hard-on to jump free. His right hand wraps around it and he strokes. Hard. And fast. And rough. Making himself see stars the way Tony told him to. His eyes flutter shut. It’s overwhelming. The rumbling grunts rolling of Mr. Stark’s tongue while the grip in Peter’s hair tightens. The burning pit in his stomach that only burns up more and more and more the faster he strokes himself. He wants to swallow every last bit Tony will give him. He swirls his tongue around the head, sucking and hollowing his cheeks. Gasping, moaning, taking and taking and taking what the man gives him.

“Are you close, boy?” Peter nods desperately. He doesn’t stop, though, doesn’t stop from flicking his thumb around the head, squeezing his own shaft with every little pump. Hips bucking wildly into his touch. His moans muffled by Tony’s hips thrusting forward in a fast, unforgiving pace. “I want you to come like this, baby. Desperate and needy and without shame.” Peter mumbles a short please around Tony’s cock. He’s not sure if the man got it, but, his eagerness as he keeps going down on the man clear enough. “Fuck, sugar, ‘m gonna cum inside of you. You’re gonna take it all, uh? Isn’t this what you’ve been dreaming of? Being used by me? I can hear the fucking awe in your voice when you speak my name. You were ready for me before I even met you.” Yes, yes, yes! Peter gasps, abs clenching tight as he collapses forward. His hands moving up and down in a killer pace until-

“F-fc!” His broken curse around Mr. Stark’s cock when he spills his cum on the tile floor. Another spurt leaves him. And another. His thighs are trembling and his mind is spinning. The explosion in his stomach is so wonderfully sweet and he feels so filthy and good and used in the exact way he loves it so much. Tony growls at the sight. “Good boy, Pete. Fuck, good boy. ” Peter doesn’t exactly follow what happens next, but suddenly Tony is no longer holding the tape around his neck. Both his hands tangled into his hair tightly to fuck his mouth, pounding into him relentlessly. Peter just submits to the complete and utter control the man has over him. Moving his face where he wants him. Setting the pace. “Yes, oh, you’re going to swallow for me, pretty little thing. Feel so good, so hot around me. Prettiest mouth I’ve ever had. You’re perfect, Peter. Fucking p-perfect, I’m go-” Tony’s voice breaks off into a loud growl, hips stuttering and rolling forward desperately. “Take it, take it! I- Aaah!” Peter’s eyes widen when he feels the hot load spill into his mouth. The familiar taste exploding on his taste buds. He whimpers, swallowing. His mind hazy and floaty and he just wants to devour every single drop of it. Make the man proud. Please him.

Peter moans quietly when he feels the man’s cock softening up in his mouth. He’s not sure why he’s still on his knees. Still gently suckling on the hot, sticky skin. All he knows is that he feels good. That he doesn’t want this feeling to end. He’s never had such good sex and jokes on him, it’d been nothing more than a quick blowjob. It’s only when Tony gently tugs on his hair that he opens his eyes again, staring up at the man when the cock slips out. A soft breath leaving his slightly parted lips. His jaws ache and he loves it. Loves the enamored look the man sends his way. “Peter, sweetheart…” Tony whispers. “Are you alright down there?” Peter nods, a smile playing on his lips as he closes them. He nuzzles his face into the man’s leg. Only vaguely aware that he might be displaying a tad too much affection for someone he barely knows. He simply feels so happy. “I feel good, Mr. Stark.” “God, you’re precious.” Tony kneels down as well, cradling Peter into his arms. Stroking his back, whispering the sweetest praise into his ears until slowly the veil lifts from his mind and he becomes aware of his surroundings again. The tape measure dangling from his neck once more, the cum staining on the tiles. The fact that he just fucked Tony Stark in his aunt’s tailoring shop. Oh my- “W-We should probably get dressed before anyone wonders why we’re closed,” Peter mumbles and he slowly leans back from the embrace, smiling at Tony apologetically. He slides his cock back into his jeans and buckles his belt tightly. Tony nods. “Of course. I… Should probably get dressed too.”

They don’t speak when Tony dresses, when Peter grabs a towel and soap to clean up the little mess he made. Not when they walk back to the counter and Peter finishes Tony’s order for the tweed suit. He’s not so sure what to say. Doesn’t know why he’s so silent all of a sudden. What could he say? Thank you, Mr. Stark, that was the best fuck of my pathetic little life. See you never? It’s Tony who breaks the silence. “Are you alright, kid?” “Y-Yes. I’m just finishing up this section of the form and then I can send-” “Peter, look at me.” Peter looks up reluctantly. The man is so fucking gorgeous in the burgundy suit. Peter doesn’t know how he’ll ever find someone to live this up with. “I… Here, this is my business card. It uh, has my phone number on there in case you- well.” Tony sniffs. “I guess I’m telling you to call me if you ever want to come by my penthouse.” Peter’s eyes open wide. “You’d want to do this again?” Tony nods. “I like you. You’re pretty, funny, nerdy enough for my liking. You’re smart, I can tell. And that mouth of yours…” Tony grins. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that, Sir.” “I like it when you call me that.” “I like calling you that.”

They’re silent again for a moment. Now that the sexual tension is out of their system - already building again a bit - Peter feels so many things and he can see the same emotions cross Tony’s eyes. He wonders what it means. Wonders how badly he wants to find out. “Please, Peter. Give me a call.” “I will,” Peter whispers, but he looks up at Tony and smiles widely. More resolutely, he repeats himself. “I will.”

“So,” Peter chuckles as he hands Tony the receipt for the tweed suit. He doesn’t tell Tony he completely forgot to write down any of the measurements he did, but he’s fairly sure that the man’s body didn’t change that much in just three weeks time so he used the once he took before. “-what are you doing tonight?” “Oh, it’s nothing. Some shit for the Avengers.” Peter’s cheeks flush. Oh, how he wishes he could ever be a part of it. He never thought he’d get the chance, but now that he knows Tony Stark personally. Who knows if he ever has the guts to ask. “Avengers? Is there a threat?” “No, no, nothing to worry about. There’s someone I want to recruit. You may have heard of him, some dude calling himself Spider-Man? He’s…” Peter freezes. He doesn’t quite follow what Tony says next. So casually. So- unwavering. He should come clean. He has to, he has to, he has to!” “I-I’m Spider-Man!” He squeaks. The look on Tony’s face is priceless. “Fuck, well kid, welcome to the team.”

---

Part Two: Inch By Inch

Are you curious about the Stripper/Prostitute!AU Lien wrote for the fic exchange? Find it here! Seriously, it’s amazing.

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unsaidholland · 3 years

Text

best years | s. holland

the third fic from the calm series!!! i hope you guys like this one as much as i did :)

this is lowkey also one of my favourite songs off the album

warnings: mentions of drinking and intoxication

sam knew that you would be at the wedding. paige had warned him in advance that you were going, and that if he wanted them to change anything about their wedding so things wouldn’t be awkward, they would. but sam decided that it would be okay, he decided that he would force himself to be okay seeing you happy. it had been a little over a year since the two of you broke up, but he was still hurt over the multiple relationships that you had during that time. he wasn’t completely sure how he felt about you, but he knew he still loved you. to what extent? he was unsure.

you knew that sam would probably be at paige and bryce’s wedding, they were the ones who set you two up almost five years ago, and the breakup didn’t stop either of you from being friends with them. it had been more than a year since you both had called it quits so you thought you would be okay seeing him. no one said the two of you had to talk.

it was during the reception where everything changed. you found out that you and sam were sitting at the same table, but luckily all of your shared friends were there. mid-dinner, they pulled paige to the dance floor for the bouquet toss. all the single women gathered in a group, the ones most excited at the front. you were somewhere off to the side, not really wanting to catch it, but paige was one of your best friends, so you played along just for her. she had her back facing the group of girls, and as she threw it back, you ended up catching it. ‘how ironic’, you thought. the one thing you didn’t want happening, happened. you didn’t believe that you were going to get married next just because you had caught the bouquet, but part of you hoped you would find someone, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

sam watched you catch the bouquet, how could he not? everyone was staring, but it gave him the chance to get a look at you. he thought that you would’ve brought someone along with you, and was surprised when he saw you participating. you looked the same as you did when you broke up, just a little more tired. he could tell. he spent four years of his life learning how to read you, and he never lost any of his skills. he could tell that as you caught the bouquet, something he knew you never intended to do, you secretly were excited. there was something else about you that he couldn’t pick up on. he watched as you stood there in shock, holding the bouquet of mixed flowers, your pale pink dress hung still around your body. there was something there, something he couldn’t pick up on.

the dinner continued, music playing as everyone conversed at their tables. the wedding reception wasn’t quite large, but it wasn’t a small reception either. everyone seemed to know of each other, but they didn’t necessarily know each other the way that friends did. you and sam sat at the same table, a table that consisted of all of your shared friends. it made sense why you two sat together, despite everyone knowing that this was the first time the two of you had even seen each other in more than a year.

“wait, y/n, what happened to nick?” alex asked. he was one of your first friends out of the whole group, then introducing you to bryce, and the rest of the friend group. things got awkward after you and sam broke up, but alex still tried to keep everything the same. he watched as you put your wine glass down, then tapping your fingers against the stem of the glass.

“we ended it a few weeks ago, it wasn’t working out,” you said. you didn’t want to talk about an ex while sam was right there. yes, life went on and you were allowed to have other relationships after him, but it was out of respect. it didn’t seem right to talk about your most recent relationship right in front of your last long-term boyfriend. “anyways, enough about him, what about your boyfriend alex?” alex blushed, and continued to talk about his boyfriend, ollie. everyone at the table smiled seeing alex go on and on about ollie. you all thought that they would get married, but you all also thought that you and sam would get married. maybe not all of your predictions were correct.

you smiled as alex continued to gush, but all you could think about was nick. why did you end things with him? things weren’t working out was what you had said, but there had to be more to it. your eyebrows furrowed a little, something sam had caught out of the corner of his eye. even though it had been more than a year since he’d seen you, he couldn’t help but note every little detail about your body language. he couldn’t help but realized he was still madly in love with you, and seeing you only made it worse.

dinner finished shortly after, and everyone proceeded to dance. you were at the bar, getting another glass of wine, while sam was in front of you getting a beer. you had spent all night avoiding each other, but as the two of you were alone at the bar together, you couldn’t help but strike up a conversation.

“sam, hey,” you said as he was about to walk away after getting his bottle of stella artois. “i just wanted to make sure we’re okay. i know our break up sucked for both of us and i wanted to say sorry.” it was the very least you wanted to do. you wanted to make up with him, you wanted to be on good terms with him. he was your best friend before you two started dating, and losing him hurt more than any breakup you’ve ever been through.

“uh, yeah. honestly, we’re good,” sam said. he smiled and nodded, then worked his way back into the crowd of people, leaving you alone. you knew it was going to be awkward, you knew it was next to impossible to get him back as your best friend. but what you didn’t know was that as he walked away, everything started to make sense. why you couldn’t stay in relationships for too long, why none of the guys you dated ever made you feel the way you wanted to feel - you wasted so much time looking for sam in all of those guys.

paige noticed you standing at the bar alone, and she could tell your emotions and thoughts were washing over you like a tsunami. she walked over to you, saying nothing as she engulfed you into a hug. you melted in her arms, feeling understood by her despite not saying anything. she somehow just knew that something was happening with you and sam, but she couldn’t place her finger on what.

“tell me everything.” was all paige said, and it was all she needed to say for you to voice all your thoughts. everything from your first relationship after sam, to how you never felt like you fully clicked with the guys you dated. you talked about how even though you never realized it, you looked for sam in all of those guys. you tried to fill his shoes but were never able to. you would never be able to replace sam, and seeing him walk away from you the way he did less than half an hour ago was enough to make you realize this.

“oh honey,” paige said, then ordering more drinks for the two of you. “he hasn’t been doing too well either.” you looked up at her in surprise, and she just gave you a sympathetic look. “he’s been trying to get over you, but sam just can’t.” you furrowed your eyebrows at your bride friend standing right in front of you. her words confused you. he seemed happy, he seemed like he was doing alright, but you remembered that looks can be deceiving.

“pai, what should i do?” you downed the rest of the wine that was sitting in your glass. the slightly tart liquid flowing down your throat, the alcohol that was there prior helping you relax.

“i think you know what you should do,” was all paige said in response. with that, she left you alone with the bartender. you ordered another drink, needing more liquid courage. you had to go talk to sam. what you were going to say was still unknown to you, but you sat there until you figured it out.

when sam walked away, he walked over to bryce and alex. they immediately knew what he was thinking. the two boys had watched him briefly talk to you and walk away. they had watched as he had an internal battle with himself and his thoughts, wanting to talk to you but also feeling that you didn’t need him anymore. but unbeknownst to him, you needed him more than you needed air in your lungs, or blood flowing through your veins. you needed him like the ocean needs the pull from the moon to create waves. he was your other half, and if soulmates were real, you were certain that he was yours.

“you know you have to talk to her, right?” alex said. alex may not have known that you secretly were still hung up over sam, but you didn’t realize it until that night either, but he knew that there was still something there.

“mate she’s had so many other boyfriends after we broke up, she doesn’t care about me.” sam sighed as he voiced his thoughts. sam genuinely believed that he was easy to replace. he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the few pieces that fell around his eyes towards the back of his head.

“don’t close any doors before you’re fully sure.” bryce said. the other two boys standing in that group smiled at him.

“so you’ve only been married for an hour and a half and suddenly you’re really wise. okay bryce,” alex said, causing everyone to laugh.

paige walked over to stand beside bryce, him instinctively putting his arm around her waist. they shared a look, one that the other two were unable to read. they had been speaking through their expressions, speaking a language that only the two of them were able to understand. bryce smiled, and excused the two of them, asking alex to join them, which he did. sam and alex knew something was up, but they didn’t know what. as sam was left alone, you looked over at him standing there.

“it’s now or never,” you said quietly to yourself. you got up and walked over to him. “can we talk? please?” was all you said. not knowing what to do, sam just nodded and followed as you lead him to a quiet part of the venue. a little seating area outside, away from everyone in the reception hall. the two of you sat together, on either sides of the bench. an awkward silence fell over the two of you. suddenly you were frozen, not really remembering what you wanted to say.

“i won’t lie, i am a little bit drunk right now. but i just wanted to say i’m sorry for everything that happened with us. you were my best friend and our breakup hurt more than anything i’ve ever experienced.” you avoided making any eye contact with him, looking down at your hands while you were talking. it made it hard for sam to read you, but with every bone in his body, he knew you were being sincere.

“it’s okay i guess. people just grow apart, it’s just life,” he said. he internally kicked himself for saying that. he wasn’t okay, he missed you more than he misses harry when he’s away.

“no, it’s not okay. i spent the past year wasting so much time on people that reminded me of you, and i only realized that now. our breakup was the worst thing that happened to me. i subconsciously tried to replace you, but i was never happy sam. i needed you, and i still need you.” you looked up at him for the first time in more than a year. you studied his face. you looked at his freckles, some were fading since he hasn’t been in the sun for a while, but they were still all mostly there. you looked up at his hair, still cut the way you liked it. his hair fell over his forehead, split in the middle, some of the curls falling just over his eyebrow. you then briefly looked at his lips, looking away to study the rest of his features. his chocolate brown eyes were the last thing you went over, looking at how they reflected the moonlight. you could tell that he was still processing what you said, so you two sat in silence.

sam felt like the world was spinning around him just from your words. yes, he knew you were drunk, but drunk words were sober thoughts, right? it wasn’t as if your words could be that far from the truth, you were best friends before you started dating, and despite him being your boyfriend, he was also your closest friend at the time. the breakup ended an almost four year long friendship, and losing a friend as close as you two were hurt more than any other relationship.

“do you really mean that?” sam mustered out after what, to you, felt like hours. you nodded.

“i meant everything i said.” your confirmation was enough for sam to let down whatever guard he had put up. he had made eye contact with you, keeping it. he always knew your eyes were beautiful, but actually studying them in the moonlight for the first time in less than two years made him remember how in love with you he was and still is. “sam, i know you may not feel the same way, but i still am in love with you. i hate that it took me this long to realize it, but our breakup was a mistake.”

sam’s heart stopped. he had been waiting for you to say those words. those words changed everything.

“i still love you too y/n.” your face lit up, a sight that sam had missed seeing. his words brought you immense hope, hope that you could get back together. sam watched as you suddenly tried to put everything together. he knew you were wondering why he still loved you if he watched you go on and date other people. “i know you’re thinking i shouldn’t still love you, but i really do.” it was as if he could read your mind.

he gently grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together, in an attempt to help you relax. his touch felt like sparks had spread across your skin. the feeling of finally holding his hand satiated a fire inside of you, one that you had tried to put out with other people but was never able to.

“what you did when we were broken up doesn’t concern me, you’re allowed to live your life y/n/n. i just care about you still loving me.” sam’s voice was soft. although you could still hear the music playing from the reception hall, all you heard and focused on was sam.

“i’m sorry it took me dating other people for me to realize that you’re all i want.” he pulled you closer to him, your thighs and knees touching. he cupped your cheek with his hand, making you look up at him and only him. sam gave you a small smile, a smile that said, ‘it’s okay,’ a smile that reminded you that everything was going to be okay. your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, wanting nothing more than to feel them on yours once again.

“kiss me,” you breathed out. he leaned down to kiss you. his lips met yours softly as if he was scared that the relationship would crumble more with how delicate it already was. you wanted nothing more than to pick up the broken pieces and build something else with them, you wanted to fix everything.

you pulled away first, a smile forming on your face. you moved your hands up to play with the curls at the nape of his neck as he brushed some of your hair out of your face and behind your ear. he pulled you closer, finally wrapping his arm around you, and you melted into his touch, laying your forehead on his shoulder. you closed your eyes, finally feeling at peace. it was that moment, sitting alone with sam, when you realized the best years of your life were always spent with him. the bouquet turned out to be right, he was going to give you the best years.

anything and everything taglist: @hollanderfangirl @hxrryhxlland @ohmy-moonlightx @musicalkeys @notsosmexy @writertoo18 @icyhollands

#sam holland #sam holland x reader #sam holland x y/n #sam holland fluff #sam holland imagine #sam holland fic #sam holland x you #sam holland x reader fluff #sam holland x reader imagine #sam holland imagines

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fallingappleshurt · 4 years

Text

Okay sooo, first fic in the fandom

Am very nervous about posting this but yeah!! Place holder type of thing while I work on my AU!! I’ve gone over this thing at least 7 times if there are errors I am just going to cry

Also this is all Platonic and Fanily dynamics!! Get outta here with your romance!!!

TW: Needles, descriptions of violence and injury (not too graphic), swearing

Phantoms and Bandaids

The group slowly stumbled down the street, moonlight gently washing over them. There was a soft breeze that cut through the humid air.

They hadn’t intended to get in a fight, it just kind of happened, they had lost track of time and before they knew it, it was dark and monsters were coming out. If you think about it, it was also the guards fault, who was slacking and missed the multiple mobs wandering around? That couldn’t have been just their fault.

They approached the little blue house on the end of the street, a pink haired boy looked it up and down, searching for signs of life, he sighed in relief when he spotted none.

“Good, Phil isn’t back yet,” He said, shoulders noticeably relaxing. One of the others adjusted his gray beanie, nodding in agreement.

“And just so everyone is clear, we were here, all night. Got it?” Wilbur looked between his brothers. Techno nodded, pink hair slipping in front of his eyes, Tommy just kept staring at the house, zoned.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asked sharply, snapping his fingers in front of the younger's face, ignoring the pain in his knuckles.

Tommy jumped, blinking a few times, “Oh, uh, yeah, sure!”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Of course!”

“So what did I just say?”

Tommy’s face faltered for a moment, “Something about, sleeping?”

Wilbur sighed loudly, he heard Techno facepalm behind him.

“We have been here the whole night, right Tommy?”

“Yes! Absolutely! The whole night!”

Techno drug his hands down his face, “Can we go in already? Phil could get here any minute and I am too tired for a lecture.” He wrapped his hand around his shoulder, Wilbur couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw blood against the pink hoodie.

Deciding it was just an illusion from his tired brain, Wilbur nodded and reached into his pocket for the house key as they walked up to the door. He slowly turned the lock and pushed the door open, trying not to make any extra noise.

Together, they crept inside, locking the door again,trying not to fumble in the dark. They slipped off their shoes and stepped into the living room, eyes started to adjust to the darkness only for the lights to flick on all at once.

“And where have you three been?” Phil stood in the hallway that led to their rooms, arms crossed, looking annoyed.

Wilbur groaned loudly, slumping forwards while Techno glared at Tommy, “I thought you said he was working late!”

“I thought he was!” Tommy hissed back incredulously, “It’s not my fault!” Techno responded by slapping him upside the head.

“Hey!” Phil snapped, “Where were you three? It’s been four hours! It is passed curfew! You could have been arrested! Or worse!”

“We didn’t sneak out or anything, we were just hanging out in the woods and lost track of time and-”

“Tommy are you bleeding?” Phil interrupted Wilbur mid sentence but that wasn’t the biggest of his concerns at the moment.

“Wait what?” He whipped around to get a better look at Tommy who conveniently had his hand over his jaw.

“It’s-It’s nothing, just a little cut!” Tommy waved his hand dismissively, chuckling nervously.

Phil rolled his eyes and walked into their small kitchen, rummaging around for the first aid, upon finding it he pointed to a chair in the dining room.

“Sit.” His voice left no room for argument but that never stopped Tommy.

“Seriously Phil, It’s not that bad! It only stings a little, I’ll just sleep on it-Hey!” He yelped as Techno shoved him forwards.

“Stop trying to resist medical attention from the only person here who knows about it,”

Tommy grumbled something as he walked over and slumped in the chair, Phil sat next to him, already scrubbing the side of Tommy’s face with a wet washcloth.

Wilbur walked over to the sink to wash his hands, watching caked on blood seep down the drain, most of it wasn’t even his, most of it. His knuckles were the main issue, they were bruised and a few had split open and were bleeding sluggishly. He dried his hands and stepped towards the table where Phil and Tommy were.

Wilbur leaned on the counter, sighing, they had been so close. They should have come in through one of the bedroom windows.

His thoughts were interrupted by Tommy’s indignant squawking as Phil rubbed antibiotics on his cuts. He was putting a patch on the cut along Tommy’s jaw line when he pointed behind himself and snapped his fingers.

“Don’t even think about it, I’m checking all of you.” Wilbur looked back to see Techno step away from His and Tommy's bedroom door, looking weary, like he was trying to be annoyed but too tired at this point. The bags under his eyes were even more visible in the light, it made Wilbur’s stomach drop.

Techno had been the most prepared for the fight, even if the monsters had gotten the jump on them, he carried a dagger in a sheath on his leg. It wasn’t very big but it did more than Wilbur’s fists and Tommy’s pocket knife, Techno had also taken the brunt of the fight since most of Wilbur and Tommy’s ‘crime’ consisted more of thieving and petty threats, Techno was the fighting powerhouse of all the brothers, where he learned to do this was anybody’s guess.

“Okay, you should be good.” Phil said, leaning back in his chair as Tommy poked at the bandages. “Thanks Phil.”

Phil nodded then looked at Wilbur, “Wil, what’s going on with your hands?”

Wilbur shrugged, “It’s nothing much, just a few split knuckles,” he held out one hand for Phil to inspect, Phil turned his wrist over in his hand.

“It’s good you washed this, it’ll help prevent infection.” He pulled Wilbur over to where Tommy was sitting before, shifting through the kit he pulled out junior and extra long stripe bandaids and set them on the table before grabbing another cotton ball and covering it with antibiotics. He dabbed at the cuts on Wilbur’s hand,

“So, why were you all out so late?”

“We weren’t doing anything wrong!” Tommy interjected, “We were-” He was interrupted by Techno slapping his hand over his mouth.

“It is too late for you to be this loud, shut up.” Techno said calmly, other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose then slowly lowering his hand from Tommy’s mouth, “Let Wilbur explain it.”

“Hang on,” Phil said, looking more frustrated, “Let me be grateful you are all still alive.” He closed his eyes and paused for a moment, then opened them.

“Okay continue.”

“He’s right,” Wilbur started only for Tommy to interject again.

“Ha! Told you Tec-”

“Tommy. Shut up.”

“We were just taking a walk in the woods and lost track of time. We might have got a little too close the wall, but to be fair some dumbass guard was not doing their job, and we got attacked by a bunch of monsters.” Wilbur explained.

Phil looked up from bandaging Wilbur’s hand and raised an eyebrow, “What kind of monsters?”

“Some zombies, a couple of skeletons, and like 5 phantoms, nothing too big. Only reason we got so scratched up is because we weren’t prepared.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Phil asked, taking Wilbur’s other hand, starting the process over again.

“Sort of, I mean,” Wilbur trailed off, not sure what point he was trying to make.

“We wouldn’t have gotten as hurt if we had been more prepared, we know how to take care of ourselves in those situations we were just caught off guard. It’s good and bad.” Techno stated calmly, “It just depends on if you look at the good, the bad, or both.” He shrugged weirdly, one shoulder moving more than the other, Wilbur couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination or not but a hushed hiss from Tommy told him something was off.

Phil was still focused bandaging parts of Wilbur’s hand, missing the quiet argument between Tommy and Techno, he could only hear bits and pieces.

“It’s not that bad-”

“That is huge! It needs to be treated, Techno! That could make you sick if it-“

“Keep your voice down! Phil doesn’t need to worry about this, it’s not that big of a deal, I’ve had worse.”

“When?!”

“What the fuck is that?” Wilbur jumped, it had been a long time since he had heard Phil curse, then he saw the reason.

There were three tears on Techno’s hoodie, exposing his shoulder that had three matching gashes all seeping blood, staining the pink sleeve.

Both Techno and Tommy looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“It’s nothing, just a scratch,” Techno tried to throw up his normal facade of ‘I am in more control of the situation than you have been or ever will be’ but it was slipping, his eyes were drooping, hands and voice shaking ever so slightly.

“Just a scratch?!” Phil snapped incredulously, “People have come into the nurses station for less than that! This needs to be treated right now!” Phil grabbed Techno’s wrist and pulled him to the chair, Wilbur switched places with him.

“Take off your hoodie and roll up your sleeve,” Phil instructed as he wrung out the wash cloth and pulled more cotton balls from the kit.

Techno groaned but did as he was told with slow, calculated, movements as to not jar his wound. He gingerly rolled up his T-shirt sleeve. Phil moved quickly, his usual calm and precise fingers shaking as he shoved his supplies around the table.

This was the first time Wilbur saw the scratches in the light, and it was horrible.

The cuts were narrow but long and deep, covering half of his shoulder, still trickling blood.The skin around the cuts was red and swolllen. Phil looked at the wound, grimacing, before he could speak Tommy shouted;

“Oh my God! It’s even worse! Techno you idiot! You’re yelling at me, at me, to get checked by Phil when you have this!” He gestured frantically at Techno’s arm.

“When- When did this even happen?” Wilbur asked, hand in his hair, “We were all watching each other’s backs!”

“Towards the beginning of the fight, right after the zombies got the jump on us,” Techno explained, wincing as Phil scrubbed at the cuts.

“How did I not notice this?” Wilbur asked, chest tightening.

“I’m stealthier than you, not as loud as Tommy, and it’s dark so it was hard to notice, don’t blame yourself.”

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever when Phil swore under his breath.

“Some of these are going to need stitches.”

Wilbur paused, he knew Techno hated needles, he never knew the reason, just that he hated needles.

That got Techno’s attention, he jerked his arm away, eyes widening slightly. “What? No, no way. It’s not that bad.” He started to stand up.

“Not that bad? Tech, those are gonna get infected!” Wilbur said, subconsciously moving to block him, making sure Techno couldn’t bolt like he would when they were younger.

“Wilbur is right, I need to treat those right now.” Phil rested his hand on Techno’s wrist. Techno shook his head, “No.”

“Techno you stubborn son of a bitch! Just get the stitches!” Tommy said, throwing his hands out.

“Shut up Tommy!”

“Oh do you wanna go, pink man? Cause-”

“Both of you calm down!” Wilbur snapped, putting a hand on Tommy’s chest, pushing him back. “This isn’t helping anybody! Both of you sit down! Tech, I know you don’t like needles but this needs to be done, it’ll only hurt for a minute then you’ll be-”

“Don’t patronize me,” Techno huffed, sitting back down, letting Phil inspect his arm.

Wilbur just shook his head in response, glad he didn’t have to make up more shit on the fly.

“Good news is, only one of them needs stitches, bad news, it’s the biggest scratch,”

Techno groaned, putting his head in his free hand, “Of course, let's just get this over.”

Wilbur watched as Phil sterilized and threaded the needle, shifting in his seat to get a better look at Techno’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any meds to numb your arm, bud.”

“Please don’t talk about it, just do the stabbing or whatever.” He responded, still not looking up. Phil rolled his eyes fondly.

Wilbur could only watch them for so long, Techno still had his hand over half of his face, only showing his mouth. Which was pinched in a tight line, his other hand was balled in a fist, knuckles white, shaking faintly.

He had to turn away when Phil got higher up on the cut where the skin was more tender, causing Techno to gasp and bite his lip. He was shaking.

Wilbur turned and went to sit over on the couch next to Tommy, who was watching some stupid show on their rinky-dink TV.

“Though you were gonna go to sleep,” Wilbur commented, flopping down next to him, he blinked sluggishly and shrugged.

“Just waiting to make sure Techno is okay, besides he’d have to come into our room at some point. He’d probably wake me up with his big feet tripping over everything, so it’s just easier to wait for him.”

Wilbur chuckled softly, he knew the main reason was he wanted to make sure Techno was okay, it was the same reason Wilbur himself was still awake.

About ten minutes into the crappy TV program Wilbur got up to use the bathroom. He took a moment to breathe and think about what the hell even happened, maybe more than a minute. He splashed some water on his face before heading back to the living room. When he got there he saw Techno had taken his place next to Tommy, who was resting his head on Techno’s shoulder and Techno rested his head on Tommy’s. Wilbur could see bandages peeking through the rips in Tech’s sleeves.

Phil sat next to Techno, an arm wrapped around him, his hand reached over,brushing the back of Tommy’s neck. Phil didn’t seem as angry now, just at peace, like someone had taken the fight out of him.Wilbur rolled his eyes and sat next to Phil, who automatically put an arm around him, he leaned on him and closed his eyes, mumbling;

“Thanks Phil, I promise we’ll be more careful next time,”

Phil chuckled lightly, “There won’t be a next time a long while. You are all grounded.”

Wilbur grumbled, shifting slightly, “Are you serious? We weren’t trying to be late or worry you-”

“We’ll talk about it more in the morning, go to sleep.”

He sighed, pulling his beanie over his eyes, slowly drifting off in the embrace of his brothers.

(There it is! I am very nervous about posting it but whatever! And this ISNT part of my AU, at least I don’t plan on it being. If there are any spelling or grammar errors that’s on me, I’m a fool and most likely dyslexic)

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amarantine-amirite · 3 years

Text

Out of Words, Out of Songs, Out of Ideas

I got a real surprise today when I got the recording studio at my school.

No lie, when I first saw it, I actually said, "What the fuck?!" I was just lucky that there weren't any teachers around, otherwise I would've heard, "Language, Camille" and have to drop 25 cents in the swear jar.

I shouldn't have worried about a teacher overhearing me. I should've been worried about Zoe overhearing me.

I never got along with Zoe. Zoe is one of those people who refuses to take responsibility, gives pathetic excuses, and either ignores consequences or downplays them. Worse, she talks down to you like you're stupid. "Noticed the piano, huh?" she said.

I nodded quickly. "Why the hell are all the keys the same color?"

Zoe did the thing where she talked down to me like I was stupid. "The school district was worried that people would think the regular piano keys are racist, so they painted them to match the wood casing."

I couldn't believe what she said. In the name of racial harmony, they painted all the keys of the piano the same color. If it didn't actually happen, I would have thought it was a joke.

I should never put it past the school to do something like this. I remember we had twins in my fourth-grade class named Benjamin and Daniel. They went by Ben and Dan. We also had a Chinese kid in our class (James) that had a learning disability. Alphabetically, he came right before Ben and Dan.

I didn't play with Ben, Dan, or James that often. I only really remember their names because of this one thing that happened.

One day, when the teacher was taking attendance, he called James's name, but James didn't hear him. Frustratedly, he moved on to the next two people, Ben and Dan. He said, "Ben, Dan"

"Ben, Dan" sounds like the Chinese phrase for "idiot". When James heard the teacher say this, he ran out of the classroom in tears.

They had to put Ben and Dan in separate classes over this. I don't know what happened to them after that. All I do know is that people are far more willing to bend over backward to avoid stepping on toes than you think. "Do they not have a little voice in their head that says this might be a bad idea?" I squealed.

Zoe shook her head. "I understand that you're upset. I get that. Things are a little messy right now. But sometimes, things have to look a little worse before they look amazing," she said in her trademark condescending tone.

I need my visual signposts. Making all the keys on the piano the same color just takes them away. And I'm far from the only person that thinks that. The reason pianos have different colored keys so the person playing them can tell the difference between the natural and semitone pitches. "Zoe, this isn't a little messy;" I said way louder than I should have, "this piano is now unusable."

Dorothy walked in. "What's all the hubbub?" she asked.

I pointed to the piano. "The school thinks it can combat racism by painting the keys on the piano the same color." All they've managed to combat is the musician's ability to consistently play the right notes.

Dororthy looked at the piano. She looked at me. She looked at the piano again, and then she looked back at me. "You know, Camille" she said, "You can't come down from a high you were never on."

I nodded, even though I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Sometimes, people say something insightful. Other times, it sounds insightful, but it falls apart the minute you try and parse it. "You can't come down from a high you were never on" falls into the latter.

I guess it could mean that you could never come back to reality if you never left reality in the first place, but I'm not fully sure. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it's one of those phrases that sounds deep and meaningful, but when you really look at it, it's just painfully confusing. "I get that, Dorothy, but can you explain to me what that's supposed to mean?"

I think she tried to say, "for everything, there is a season. There is a time for everything, and now is not the time for that." Basically, she tried to respond to a thought terminating cliché with another thought terminating cliché. But try as she might, she just could not get the words out. She wound up saying, "For everything, there is a season, a season is time of growth"

That sentence made so little sense that I burst out laughing. "Excuse me, what? Care to explain what this is supposed to mean, because I think I just had an aneurysm trying to decipher this."

Dorothy repeated what she said. "Everything has seasoning, but if you special the time, it is a growth."

"You're not making any sense"

By now, she started to get frustrated. "I said, for every season, a season is time of growth."

"That made even less sense than before," I said. I wanted to say "I've listened to drunk people who were far more coherent than that," but kept it shut. And for good reason. When she tried to speak again, nothing came out. No sound. Radio silence.

All of a sudden, it hit me. She wasn't dodging the question or being evasive or anything like that. She was actually having a stroke!

It spooked me. One minute, somebody's brain works fine. The next, it just comes to a grinding halt.

It could have been much worse. Even though she couldn't talk, at least her face wasn't drooping. Now was still a good time to call an ambulance, as time wasted is brain wasted.

I called 911, and they put me on hold. The hold music was "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees. In the time I was on hold, Dorothy downed an entire bottle of water and began frantically signing to anyone who was watching. This might sound weird, but I felt a huge wave of relief watching her sign. She signed with both arms, the ASL equivalent to speaking with both sides of your mouth. Zoe looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Helen Keller." Dorothy got all pissed off, gave Zoe the finger, and stormed off to that corner of the room with the bead curtains.

Once I finally got off hold, 911 put me through to this guy whose last job was probably working as a bellhop in a second-rate Torquay hotel. "Hello? Hello, 911. How are you today?"

"Uh," I responded, "my friend Dorothy is having a stroke, how do you think I am?"

He blinked in confusion hard enough that I could feel it on the other end of the phone. "¿Que?" he said.

Growing ever more frustrated, I repeated, "Dorothy is having a stroke!"

I thought he'd understand the second time. But no, he did not. "¿Que?" he said again after a long pause.

I grew frustrated. It was almost like he couldn't remember what his job was, let alone the nature of my emergency. "Dorothy. Stroke." I reiterated in an annoyed fashion.

"OK, I see," he replied. He seemed to finally understand what I had said. "You friend Dorothy having a stroke."

"Yes!" I said. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

Or so I thought. I couldn't believe the next words out of the guy's mouth. "We no have time for you wild goose chase"

"What?!" I said, completely taken aback.

"We no have time. We no believe you. Very, very sorry. Goodbye!"

I went behind the bead curtains and sat down across from Dorothy. "Well, that was a bust." I said.

"Why didn't you bring your guitar?" Dorothy signed.

"My amp still isn't working" I answered.

The amp broke in the first place because some moron plugged it into a car battery. If you plug a guitar amp into a car battery, it will explode. I took it to the repair shop to get it fixed. They said it was ready for pickup, but it was exactly the same as it was when I went to pick it up as it was when I brought it in.

"I thought you had it fixed."

"So did I." I showed Dorothy a picture of the amp before I took it in and after. She looked at it and laughed.

"So Dorothy," I asked, "what did you mean when you said you can't come down from a high you were never on?"

Dorothy nodded. Those were the last words she said before she had a stroke, and it seemed she couldn't hear them without crying. She steeled herself and signed, "It means that if you don't know what you're expecting, it doesn't make sense to get upset when your expectations aren't met."

Good, I thought, we're getting somewhere. That said, she still can't talk. "I might call 911 again" I said.

Dorothy nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

The good news was, I didn't wind up on hold. The bad news was, I wound up dealing with Manuel The 911 Operator again. "Hello, 911, how are you, is nice day"

"OK, no" I said, "Not nice day. Dorothy can't talk."

"¿Que?"

"Dorothy have stroke. Now, Dorothy no talk."

Not only did he recognize me from before, he still didn't believe me. "Oh, it's you," he said in a very annoyed tone, "We no believe you. How many times? Where are you ears, you great, big, halfwit?? We no have time, listen?"

For a brief moment, the line went dead. The operator picked up again. "Now you understand! So bye bye, please, bye bye." Nice. Then they hung up on me again.

I came here to record a song. Not only did that not get done, I had to fend off political correctness gone mad, deal with a 911 operator who knows nothing, and witness a close acquaintance lose her voice because part of her brain stopped working.

I can't believe I snuck out of geography class for this.

@leopard-prompts

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short story #creative writing #FindTheWriters

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sebbytrash · 4 years

Text

Through His Eyes - Part Sixteen

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Unrealistic expectations of best friends

A/N - I’m sorry. Trust me.

Through His Eyes Masterlist

“Ow. Shit.” Bucky’s voice pierces that blissful sleep bubble you were in with a pop. “What the fuck?”

“It’s too early for you to be this loud.” You open one and eye and half peer at him, find his face a lot closer than you expect.

“Why is there a gun under your pillow?” He asks, holding it up for you to see like maybe you didn’t know it was there, a stowaway in the night.

“Put Bob back, he’s been in my bed a lot longer than you have.” You grumble and roll over, pull the covers up over your ears in the hopes you will find sleep again.

“You sleep with a gun under your pillow? Here?” He asks again, incredulous and he has a point, you know this.

“I have issues, sue me.” You answer carelessly, sleep already beckoning and it’s only when he goes silent beside you that you think about what you just said and turn back to face him, “I had these issues before you came along, believe me.”

You take the gun from him and place it on your nightstand, slip your fingers around his wrist and tug him back down beside you, distract him from those dark thoughts with your lips and mouth.

When he leaves, you find the paper bag sitting exactly where he left it. Was it meant for you? Curiosity gets the better of you and so you open it, find your heart beating strangely in your chest when you see your favorite cookie waiting at the bottom. You try and fail to remember when you might have told him, wonder if he plucked the thought directly from your head along with the beats from your chest.

It goes like that, weeks pass in a blur as you ignore all common sense and take solace in these moments with Bucky. Usually a nightmare or a mission has you at his door, no longer knocking and simply slipping inside like you dared to belong, never longer than a few days in between.

The days are filled with sidelong glances and lingering touches. If anyone notices, they say nothing, not even Sam who knows exactly what those touches mean. You think of the Soldier even less now, nightmares consisting of everything and nothing, missions and faces but nothing of that time spent behind the green door. You are filled more everyday with cautious hope, the other shoe still waiting to drop but it gets closer to the ground with every minute, the impact of the fall lessening with each full nights sleep.

You are making yourself breakfast one morning, humming along to the song stuck on repeat in your head as you do when Sam takes a seat.

“Well, good morning, sunshine.” He says, smiles enough to show all his teeth, “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“Hmm...am I?” You tease, toss him a piece of bacon from the stack, “Or am I always this delightful?”

“Do I have to answer that?” He ducks back out of reach with a laugh when you try to shove him. You turn back to the eggs in the pan, sprinkling in some cajun spices and Sam watches quietly, a small smile on his face as he takes in the relaxed droop of your shoulders and shining eyes. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you eat a real breakfast, you know. That sorry excuse for coffee not included.”

“Some of us like to taste the caffeine, alright?” You smirk at him, show him your teeth again like it’s normal to feel so happy about eggs and bacon. Maybe it is, you think, as you pop another piece into your mouth and hum.

“I assume you never ended things with Bucky?” He asks like he already knows, watches your face like he's watching for the answer instead of listening.

You sign, make a small noise of admission, “It’s not like that, though.”

“What’s it like, then?”

“I don’t know, a distraction?”

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, simply sits and watches you avoid his gaze and stir your eggs into a paste in the pan, his face mild like spring sunshine.

“You know, I wouldn’t have chosen him for you. Not because he’s a bad guy or anything, he’s not, but I wouldn’t have chosen this complicated path for you, not after everything you’ve endured.” You look at him then, find him watching without reproach and instead something else, “But, I like this look for you.”

“What look?” You ask, curious but also a little afraid.

“Happy.”

Sam words haunt you for the rest of the day, leave you distracted during training with Steve, so much so that you take a particularly nasty hit to the face, one you should have easily avoided. You have to remind him of that several times over as he apologises for the fifth time.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be, it’s on me. I wasn’t paying attention.” You say, gingerly touching your cheekbone to assess the damage. It didn’t feel broken, at least, which was good considering it was a super soldier on the other end of it.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, his eyes so full of concern.

“I’m fine, Steve, don’t worry. I’ve taken worse hits.” You smile and then wince at the sharp pain that follows it.

“No, not that. Are you okay? I haven’t seen you distracted like that for a while?” You hate that look in his eyes, the one that he created just for you.

“Hey.” You say softly, step up close and lay a hand on his arm, “I’m ok. I promise.”

“It’s just that lately you’ve been…” He trails off like he isn’t sure how to finish that sentence, “uh, you again.”

“I feel like me again.” You admit, smiling softly, letting the truth of the statement chase away some of that marrow deep doubt.

Later, in your room, you think about both conversations again. You think about the last few months, and then closer still, the last few weeks. Are you happy? Has it been that long since you truly were, that you can no longer recognise it? Maybe you aren’t there yet, but you consider, for the first time, that perhaps you were on your way. There’s a few more miles to go along the road, but yes, happiness might be for you after all.

When you find yourself slipping quietly inside Bucky’s room that night, there’s no nightmare to blame or mission to burn off. There’s just you and the miles you’ve already walked, a newness to your steps and your smile. Bucky turns when you enter, even though you know you never made a sound, is pulled towards you by those invisible strings you both seem to carry.

He doesn’t notice the smile or match it with his own, his face is instead several things at once and yet, furious the most.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, fingering cupping your face in that gentle way of his and tipping your head back to get a better look, his actions so entirely at odds with his expression. You are struck by how different the furious face is, how so unafraid of it you are.

“Oh shit, I forgot. Does it look bad?” You say suddenly, remembering the earlier hit you took and smiling a little at why you forgot. He doesn’t answer and so you add, “It was an accident, during training, my own fault. I’m OK.”

“Your own fault?” He repeats more than he asks, still unable to take his eyes from your face long enough to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, I was distracted.” You explain, and then smile again, catch his eyes with this one and watch him relax in response.

“You seem awfully happy about it.” He smiles back at you now, hand still cupping your face and you turn enough to drag your lips over the inside of his wrist, watch his eyes roll around in the tenderness of it.

“Lets call it cathartic.” He laughs, light enough to float in the air around you, bubbled moments like drifting gold.

Everything is different and yet nothing is different, he’s still looking at you that way he so often does, his ocean eyes reflecting all the stars within their depths and you feel it, that inexplicable pull, the riptide carrying you away. When you drift off to sleep, it’s not the usual sation and sweaty sheets, no, this time it's softly, held within Bucky’s arms, the TV still on with some forgotten movie playing.

It’s exactly what you didn’t know you wanted.

It was fragile, this feeling.

Breakable.

The screams wake you.

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#through his eyes #kale writes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfiction

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