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#i am so sorry i have been so absent / bad at replying this month
fxreflyes · 28 days
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thank you so much for the tags @belleandsaintsebastian @somerubberband and @crvida <3333
rules: answer & tag ppl u want to connect w and get to kno better
fav color: dark green! or dark red
last song: got the life - korn (90s / early 2000s rock save me ig)
last film: dune 2!!!
currently reading: need to start book 2 of the poppy war. just got it!
currently watching: attack on titan (thank u katya <3)
currently craving: sleep & coffee idk i am v tired
coffee or tea: both!!!!!
np tagging: @cosmmicdancer @polaroidcats @kaaaaaaarf @shipsnsails @ethercain @malchai @dieonysian @faggylittleleatherboy @hxlda-hxlda @itmeanssungod @sugarsnappeases @sunattacksthemoon @godsofwoes @stillagoodwitch @angelfruittree @fruityindividual @achillesankle @greengrug @magneto-manifesto @moongays @lilyflxwers @wanderingdonut @silkencanis and the world's most open tag :)
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footballfanficwriter · 2 months
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Absent Father
Summary:where the reader is about to give birth and Jude is not home
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"When are you going to be back?" I ask as I watch him pack his bag
"In a couple of months Love" he says
"Oh"
"But don't worry it'll be over before we know it"
"Can't you pull out of the squad and say you've got an injury or something"
"You know I can't do that, they'll examine my body to check my story out"
I sigh
"Hey, it's not that bad, we'll call eachother and face time, we're gonna be ok"
"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself"
"I'm trying to convince the both of us"
"Jude you know that I'm due any day now right"
"I know"
"And you won't be there by my side holding my hand or getting to witness the birth of your child" I say trying to hold back my tears
"I know baby, and I'm sorry"
"Sometimes I wish you were Just Jude Bellingham, not Jude Bellingham the Real Madrid and England Star
He stops packing and looks at me
"Sometimes I wish that as well darling, but that's not how it is"
"Yeah, I'm going to the kitchen to make a snack"
"Ok"
I leave the room and walk to the kitchen to make something to eat
As I'm busy I hear Jude come down the stairs with his bag
He places it down and walks up to me and towers over me, places a kiss on my forehead and bends down to kiss my belly
"I have to go" he says as he stands up
I come in for a hug and hug him very tightly as if by doing so I can just pause time and stop it from moving
He hugs me tightly as well indicating he doesn't wanna let go
As we're hugging the tears start coming out and I don't even try to fight them this time, i'm silently crying, and pretty sure my tears have now stained his shirt
He pulls away, looks me in the eyes and wipes the tears from my face
"I love you"
"I love you"
He kisses my forehead one more time walks to his bag and heads for the door where his driver waits for him
A week later:
I'm lying on the sofa watching a series that I'm not really paying attention to, all I'm thinking about is how scared I am and how I won't have anyone in the delivery room with me, and the person that I do want to be there is in another country
It's been difficult to talk and Face time with Jude, because he's either very busy or he's too tired to talk, if he's not training, he's doing press, if it's not press it's games, if it's not games he's out with his teammates, there's just always something happening and it makes me wonder if he's  trying to avoid me, because if he wasn't ignoring me then he would at least make the time to try and talk to me, it's always me reaching out and calling him but he never does the same
The only interactions we have nowadays is when he posts something and I like and comment under his post and he'll just reply to my comment
I honestly don't know what to do but I just keep telling myself that he's busy and can't talk
I stand up and walk upstairs to get my phone to check if I've gotten any call from Jude
The minute I grab my phone from my bed there's a warm liquid that I feel on my legs
I look down and see water on the floor
I start freaking out a bit but then compose myself and walk to my wardrobe to grab my bag
And walk downstairs and get into the car and start driving to the hospital
When I arrive at the hospital I ask the receptionist for my doctor, but she tells me that in order to see her I have to have an appointment
"Lady listen to me, I'm a Pregnant Woman that's about to give birth, are you really gonna tell me to wait to see my Doctor?"
"I'm sorry I was not aware, I'll go get her"
She walks down a passage and makes a left knocking on a door, 2 minutes later she returns with Doctor Ashley Johnson
"Mrs. Bellingham, what are you doing here?, Where's is your Husband?"
"On a business Trip" I say breathing heavily
"Can someone get this woman a wheelchair?"
A few minutes later I'm in a hospital gown and walking around my hospital room trying to Dilate myself enough to give birth to this baby and Doctor Johnson holding my hand
"So where is your husband?"
"He's away, on a Business trip"
"Your Mother?"
"We don't really get along, let's just say she's not happy with the decisions I made in my life"
"Like?"
"Marring my Husband"
"What's wrong with him?"
"Nothing, she just didn't want me to marry someone who is from a different country number one and from a different culture"
"Your mother in law?"
"She moved back to England to be with my Father in law and brother in law"
"Siblings?"
"They are all married and even if I were to call them they are too far away"
"So I guess it's just you and me then" she says
I nod my head realizing that no one from my family is actually coming
"Yep"
After 10 hours of walking around and trying to Dilate Doctor Johnson informs me that I'm ready to give birth
She calls the rest of her team to come and assist and after two hours
A baby Boy is born
My body is tired and I just feel absolutely exhausted
"Mrs. Bellingham, we're going to clean your baby boy, you just get some rest we'll bring him right back"
"Ok" I say falling asleep
The next day I wake up feeling much better than the previous day, I turn my head to see my baby sleeping peacefully and Doctor Johnson walks into the room
"Hi, how are we doing in here?"
"We're ok, he's asleep"
"Have you spoken to your family yet?"
"No, I haven't, I'll wait for him to wake up first, then I'll make calls"
"And a name, have you decided on a name yet?"
"No I wanna call my husband first then we'll discuss it"
"Ok"
Doctor Johnson stays with me for some time until the baby wakes up
"I'll leave you to it then"
"Thank you"
I grab my phone and the first people I call are my Four sisters
They all get excited and squeal as they see the baby for the first time
"What's his name?" One of them ask
"I don't know, I'm gonna call Jude and we'll talk about it"
"Aww, he's so cute"
"Thank you"
"Congratulations sis, we're so proud of you, we wish we could be there"
I shed some tears and tell them it's fine and that we'll all meet up eventually
The next person I call is Denise.
"Hello love"
"Hi Mom, you alright?"
"Yeah, how are you"
"Oh we're fine, but I have something to show you"
I slightly turn the phone to Show her the baby and she looks in shock
"Mark, Jobe come look"
After some time Mark and Jobe appear on the screen
"Oh God he's so adorable"
"Are you ok though love"
"Yeah, I will be" I say
"What's his name?"
"I still need to call Jude, then we'll discuss it, and then we'll let everyone know
"Ok love, take care of yourself ok"
"Ok"
"We love you"
"Love you too"
The next person I call is Jude, hoping he'll pick up but he doesn't instead he sends a text
Hubby: what's up?
Me: can you call, it's important
Hubby: what is it?
Me: Jude can you pls just answer your phone it's really important
Hubby: just text me, I'm busy rn
Me: with what?
Hubby: With Trent, Madders and Hendo
Me: so you can't just excuse yourself for some time, I'm telling you that this is important why are you being difficult?"
Hubby: no actually I can't excuse myself, we're playing UNO, and I'm losing like hell
Me: oh so you would rather play a game of UNO than to hear what I have to say?
Hubby: just text it to me, I'm sure it's not a big deal
Me: if you consider the fact that you have a son not important then Yeah, it's not important
Hubby: what 🤯 are you being serious, you game birth?
Me: yeah but don't let me stop you from your game, it's most definitely more important than the birth of your son
                           Hubby ❤
                            Calling...
I decline the call
Hubby: babe answer the phone
Me: The baby is asleep, I'll call you when he wakes up, if I answer it'll wake him up
Hubby: oh c'mon don't be like that
Me: I'll call you later, get back to your game
I place my phone next to me and admire my newly born baby boy who is fully awake
"Hey Babe, welcome to the world, I'm gonna love you so much more than anything in the world"
He only giggles and cuddles further into my arms and it makes me Coo
2 months later:
Today is the day Jude comes back and to say I'm excited is an understatement we never had the discussion of the Baby's name so I just decided it Myself
And I Decided on Jamie
Ever since Jamie's birth Jude has been calling a lot more often and calling to check on us every day, which is good because then he won't miss that many Moments
Jamie is growing so fast it feels like it was just yesterday when it was just the two of us cuddling in a hospital bed, now he can crawl
Jude should be landing in a few hours and Jamie and I are preparing something to have for dinner, hopefully Jude will be here in time for dinner
Jamie however is on top of the counter grabbing things and putting them in his mouth while I prepare dinner
After making dinner, I get Jamie cleaned up and into his pajamas
And I carry him downstairs where we'll sit and wait for Jude
I'm so excited because we're about to have our first dinner as a family also adding the fact that I haven't seen Jude in almost three months
20:00( 8pm)
Jamie and I are sitting in the dinning room waiting for Jude to come home
21:00( 9pm)
Jamie has fallen asleep on my chest
22:00 ( 10pm)
Jamie is now asleep in this crib and I'm waiting for Jude while doing the dishes and packing away all the table decor that I've put out
23:00 (11:00 pm)
Fast asleep in bed
00:00 ( 12:00pm)
01:00 am
The door to the house opens and I hear Jude walk up the stairs and towards our room, the door opens and I hear him sigh and take his clothes off leaving him in his trunks
He gets into bed and kisses my shoulder
"Hello my love" he says in a husky voice
"I know you're awake, you're a light sleeper, I know you heard me come in"
I shrug him off and try to make myself comfortable on the bed
"What's wrong, are you not going to greet back"
"Hi"
"Is that all I get?"
"Yeah"
"Why are you upset i haven't seen you in 2 months and the first time I come back you give me a cold shoulder?"
"Exactly we haven't seen eachother in 2 months, and you couldn't even get home on time for dinner like you promised"
"Oh, you know I thought I told you that I was gonna be late, because Trent wanted to party for a bit before we were all headed home because we wouldn't see eachother in a long time"
"Does Trent have a two month old  baby boy who he hasn't seen ever since his birth and a wife who gave birth on her own  waiting for him at home?"
"No"
"Do you?"
"Yes"
"So please explain to me because I must be losing my mind, you had two months, two months with these people "your sheriffs" to laugh and share moments, yet your two month old son has not even shared a single moment with you and you still put your teammates before him to make moments with them and you don't even have one with your son"
He is quiet
"So is it wrong for me to assume that from now on your international teammates and club teammates will forever be the first choice no matter what?"
"No babe, you and James are the most important thing in my life and will forever be my first"
"I can't even look at you right now"
"You were not there when he was born, when we were suppose to name him , i ended up naming him myself because I had to put something on the birth certificate, you weren't there when he started crawling and now you said the wrong name yet he's your son"
"Is his name not James?"
"If you had answered your phone on that day we would have named him together" I say getting out of bed and grabbing my gown
"And his name is Jamie" I say walking out of the room and walking to Jamie's room to sleep there
The next morning I'm woken up by Jamie's cries
I walk to him and pick him out of his crib and walk to the Kitchen to find Jude making Breakfast
"Morning babe"
"What are you doing?"
"Making breakfast, I'm making French toast, still your favorite right?"
"Yeah"
"Great, have a seat it'll be ready in just a few minutes"
Jamie lays his head on my shoulder as he looks at Jude almost as if he's asking who is the guy in our Kitchen making food
He's uncomfortable
"Hey it's ok, that's your dad" I whisper into his ear and kiss his head
I walk to the dinning table and put Jamie on my lap where he stares at me and shows his gums that are without teeth
I smile down at him and shower him with kisses and he giggles
In that moment Jude walks to us and almost  immediately Jamie's head goes on my chest and he stops giggling
"Here you are"
"Thanks" I say
He takes a seat across me and looks at Jamie and sends him a small wave, but it only makes Jamie force himself further into my chest
Jude gives me a sad look and I look back at him
He clears his throat and breaks the uncomfortable silence
"So how have you been?"
"Fine, yeah I've been fine, you?"
"Yep same just really tired"
"Yeah"
The awkward silence is among us again and we eat in silence
"Fuck" he says under his breath
"How much have I missed?" He asks
"A lot more than you can imagine" I reply
"Baby, I am so sorry, when you said that I missed so much I didn't know you meant it like that to the point where my own son doesn't recognize me"
"Yeah"
"How can I make up for it?"
"I wouldn't know either Jude, Jamie is a baby, he doesn't comprehend what's happening, it not like you can just throw the words I'm sorry to him and he'll forgive you just like that"
"You're not helping, I'm asking for solutions not for you to make me feel worse than I already do"
"Well you wouldn't be feeling like this if you had been there number 1, if you had answered your phone so we could name him together and if you had made more time to talk to us"
"I called you every day"
"Did you call me when I was a week from giving birth, huh, when our only interaction would be on Social media where I was liking pictures and commenting and you were liking or replying to my comments"
"I called you guys every day, to find out how you were doing"
"For five minutes, you can't really say anything in five minutes"
"I was tired"
"But you were never too tired to go out with your teammates, right?, all that time you spent with them, could have been used to get to know your son, given how difficult it was to be there for him when he was born"
"So what, you wanted me to stay in my hotel room and be left out while everyone was enjoying themselves?"
"If you couldn't do it for me then you could have at least done it for Jamie, you were an absent father, and it's not my fault that after I tried to get you involved in his life and you refused and now he doesn't even know you"
He's quiet and just continues eating his food
After having breakfast Jamie and i walk to the Kitchen and i get started on the dishes while He sits next me with his favorite chew toy that keeps him behaving
Jude walks in
"Let me take him" he says
He goes to pick Jamie up and Jamie starts crying
I immediately leave the dishes and walk to them
"Here take over the dishes, I'll take him
"No it's fine, he'll be fine"
"No Jude let go of him, I need to feed him he hasn't been fed yet"
He let's go of Jamie and I walk to his room to feed him
After 2 hours Jamie falls asleep for his afternoon nap
And I walk to the living room to watch some TV only to find Jude watching TV
I take a seat and Jude pauses his show
"Is he ok?"
"Yeah, he's asleep"
"That's good"
"Mhm"
"Y/n, I'm sorry, I know that the past 2 months have not been easy for you and that you were scared when you had to give birth to Jamie, because I wasn't there for you both"
"It's fine, you were working"
"Yeah but that's not an excuse, I feel horrible, I feel like I'll never get to have a relationship with my son if things go on like this"
"Don't say that Jude, Jamie will get use to you, eventually, maybe not tomorrow or next week, but eventually"
"You were right, if I made the time then we wouldn't be here right now having this conversation"
"True, but you made a mistake and you are rectifying it, now you know what to do and what not to next time"
He smiles at me and I return the smile
"Thank you"
"You're welcome"
He scoots closer to me and places his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his
"I've missed you so much"
"I've missed you as well"
"Can you believe it, we're actually Parents now"
"Right, times like these are gonna be fewer, where it's just the two of us bringe watching Movies and series"
"That's true, we're gonna be so occupied, it's crazy"
"Yep"
"I love you"
"I love you too"
He kisses my forehead and unpause the show he was watching.
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ssturniolo · 9 months
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Can’t (II)
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|| pt.1 || pt.2 ||
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - you realize breaking up was not the best option.
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - swearing, kissing, I hope that’s it, it’s late rn and I’m delirious.
It’s been two months since you broke up with Chris. Two long horrible months. You thought breaking up with him would improve your mental health, and while the hate has died down immensely, you feel like a piece of you is missing.
Even before you started dating Chris he was always there. He could always comfort you, make you laugh, and he had a way of making you feel like the only girl in the world. But now that he’s gone, you constantly feel empty and alone, even when surrounded by many people you love.
But what could you do? You were the one that broke up with him in the first place. You couldn’t just come crawling back.
Since the breakup, you’ve gotten pretty bad at keeping a consistent schedule. Eating at random times of the day or even forgetting to eat, skipping showers, and spending most of your time curled up on your bed.
With all of that, you haven’t gone to the grocery store in forever, and decided to stop at Starbucks for a quick coffee run, as you didn’t feel like going to the store to get more.
Pulling up to the nearest Starbucks, you groan, seeing the drive through closed.
“Great, just great” you mumble to yourself. You hadn’t planned on having to actually be seen today, considering you’re wearing sweatpants and a hoodie with your hair thrown up in a messy bun, and you haven’t showered in a couple days.
Sighing, you get out of your car, heading towards the Starbucks entrance.
Besides a dirty look from one of the workers, ordering went smoothly.
Waiting for your drink, you scroll through instagram absent mindedly, when a certain name pulls you right out of your thoughts.
Nicolas sturniolo
“Oh shit” you mutter under your breath, your head snapping up just to lock eyes with a brown haired boy. Chris.
Moving your gaze to the barista, you silently beg her to call your name so you can get out of there. But it’s too late. Your eyes widen slightly as you watch Nick walk towards you, a smile plastered to his face.
“Y/n!” He calls happily.
Giving him a weak smile your eyes dart past him, watching as Matt, Chris, and Madi approach behind him.
You’d been so caught up thinking about missing Chris these past two months, you hadn’t even thought about how you completely cut contact with the rest of your friends.
“Hey guys” you reply, giving Nick an awkward side hug. Now feeling self conscious in your messy fit under their gaze, you take a step back, basically shrinking into yourself.
“Oh shit this is awkward” Nick points out, glancing between you and Chris.
Not sure what to do, you simply stand and watch as Nick ushers Matt and Madi away. Turning back to Chris, you give him a tight lipped smile, heat creeping up your neck.
“So, how’ve you been? Did the hate die down?” He asks, rocking on his heels.
Y/n y/l/n
“Oh, um… yeah it did” you say, walking over to grab your drink.
“Im sorry Chris, I really can’t do this right now” you let out before he can continue the conversation.
And with that, you turned on your heels, swiftly speed-walking out the doors to your car. You rest your head on the steering wheel as regret flows through you.
“I fucked up.”
***time skip to that night***
Flopping down on your couch, exhausted, you sigh. You had just deep cleaned your entire house, before taking a very needed long, hot, shower.
Just as you get comfortable, your doorbell rings, startling you.
You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing down at your phone to see it’s already 1:00 am. Who would come at this time?
You peek you head out the door, to be met with a clearly nervous Chris. Opening the door further so he can come in, you watch as he tensely walks through, playing with his fingers.
“What’s wrong?” You questioned, confused as to why he’d come to you for something.
Deciding to cut straight to the point, Chris rests his hands on your shoulders lightly.
“Y/n, I’m still in love with you” he starts, surveying your face for a reaction.
With no response from you, he continues.
“From the moment you walked out of my room, I’ve felt incomplete” he continues, moving a hand up to brush a lock of hair out of your face.
“I understand if you don-” he starts before you cut him off, smashing your lips against his.
Immediately melting into you, he moves one hand down to your waist, the other resting on your cheek. Your lips moving in sync, molding perfectly together, he pulls you impossibly closer.
After what seems like an eternity, you pull away to catch your breath, both of you breathing heavily.
“I’m so sorry for breaking up with you over something so stupid” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped find a better solution instead of telling you to ignore it. Your mental health IS important to me and I want you to know that.” He expressed, drawing patterns on the small of your back.
Lifting your head off his shoulder, you smile shyly. “So we’re even?”
“Yeah, we’re even” he reply’s, a small laugh escaping his lips.
Wrapping you into a hug, he smiles against your hair. “I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us.”
“Same” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
Everything’s going to be ok.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
This took WAY too long to write 😭. I hope y’all enjoy and I hope this makes sense bc Istg I’m so tired I can’t see straight.
XOXO - Zoe
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vodika-vibes · 2 months
Note
Congratulations on 500 followers!
May I please request a Captain Rex x f!reader piece with ruby or ruby and diamond? I’m very partial to smut and spice, but I can live without it too, lol.
Time setting: during any season of the bad batch. Our boy is trying so hard to save his brothers, he needs to remember his partner too :)
Time For Us
Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader
Prompt: Ruby - Passionate Love
Summary: Several months after the fall of the Republic, little has changed for you, save for the addition of your boyfriend on your ship. But, you recognize that everything has changed for him, and you’re worried.
Word Count: 619
Warnings: Spicy-ish. (It doesn't feel that way to me, but I've been focused on it too long so there's no spice there for me anymore)
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: Thank you! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I'm trying, really hard, to keep these under 1000 words, and so far I'm managing it! I hope you like it! This takes place sometime during the first season of TBB.
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You’re lucky.
The fall of the Republic didn’t affect you, personally, in any massive way. Your job remains secure, and you’re not in any danger of losing your job in spite of the regime change. 
Luckily, the new Emperor has little care as to what a massive magazine does…so long as it continues to focus on wildlife and natural landscapes. And, as a wildlife photographer, you didn’t even need to get a minor talking to, unlike some of your co-workers who often interview people.
So you’re able to continue on as you are. On the private ship that you personally own, traveling the galaxy to take pictures of natural wonders and wildlife.
That said, the fall of the Republic was…awful.
The death of the Jedi is a tragedy that even you don’t have the ability to put into words. 
But your grief is nothing compared to the grief of your boyfriend.
You shift in bed, rolling over to cast your gaze over the hunched over form of Rex. He’s sitting at your desk, his gaze locked on the datapad in front of him, and you hope he’s not watching more news stories about the Purge.
Slowly you sit up, the thick blanket you prefer pooling around your waist as you watch him push his fingers through his hair. He’s let it grow out slightly, it’s now long enough that he can push his fingers through it.
“Rex?” You keep your voice light, “It’s late, why don’t you come to bed?”
“In a bit, cyare.” His voice is rough as he answers, and you frown at his back as you pull your knees up and rest your arms on them.
You should be patient with him. He lost so much…but you fear that he’s in danger of losing himself if he doesn’t take a break. Your gaze flickers to the side, as you try to come up with a way to help him.
Absently, you rub your fingers over the thick material of the shirt you’re wearing, one of his shirts, and then you pause. You look down at the material as half an idea starts to form. 
You kick the blanket off your legs, and swiftly peel the shirt off, leaving you totally naked, and then you stand and walk over to him, your arms sliding around his broad shoulders as you press a light kiss against his neck. 
He sighs, one of his scarred hands coming up to press against your bare arm, “Cyare-”
“You have been working, nonstop, for days.” Your voice is soft, “Am I to watch you work yourself to death, love?”
“...I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” You kiss his neck again, and then you feel his fingers trailing against your arms, and you lean over slightly to get a look at his face, he looks, adorably, puzzled.
“Weren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“I was.” You reply lightly, “I decided that the best way to get you to take some time for us was to lose it.”
He spins the chair and his dark eyes scan your body, even in the dim light there’s still enough for him to make out all of the detail. Rex tilts his head back, a look of hunger on his handsome face, “I suppose I have been ignoring you,” He murmurs as he pulls you down to straddle one thigh. 
“Only a little,” You reply lightly.
He lazily grinds you down against his thigh, before ghosting his fingers up your sides, “Are you going to give me a show, cyare?”
“Is that what you want?” You ask in turn.
Rex chuckles and pulls you into a deep, passionate, kiss. “Go on, angel. Show me what I’ve been missing.”
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daddy-dins-girl · 8 months
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Framed Around My Heart
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Masterlist
AO3 link
Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO Universe)
Pairing: (platonic) Joel & Ellie
Summary: “We could’ve saved the world!” She shouted at him, her emotions running on overdrive in a way she hadn’t felt since their actual first night in Jackson all those months ago when she’d accused him of not caring about her. “The whole world, Joel!”
He stood in front of her, voice low and steady with his simple yet definite reply, “I did” - a breath. “I saved my whole world”
OR,
The first time Joel tells Ellie he loves her.
Word Count: 9.3k
Warnings: Swearing (it's Ellie y'all). Angst. Hurt & Comfort. PTSD Ellie. Briefly mentioned past violence. Joel and Ellie both being bad at feelings. Soft!Dad Joel (consider your ovaries warned!).
Notes: Takes place right after Season 1 ends. Joel and Ellie are back in Jackson. Idk when Ellie's birthday is, so I made one up...
They had settled in Jackson for a week now. Gotten the lay of the land, chosen their own house just across the street from Maria and Tommy’s, and soon would be assigned their first work details. Ellie was more than disappointed to learn that she was apparently “not old enough” to go on patrol duty and after a huge outburst towards the council that ended with Joel all but dragging her out of the building as she yelled at them that they were “fascist fucks” who could all “go to hell”, she’d eventually managed to calm down, but that didn’t mean she had to agree with them. She’d hated the idea of Joel going out there without her, almost as much as she hated the idea of herself being stuck in here without him; no matter how safe it was behind the walls. They needed each other, she told herself. It’s how they’d survived as long as they had. Unfortunately for her, Joel was assigned exactly that - Patrol Duty. Ellie had been tasked with stable duty. Readying the horses for the riders to take out which meant typically getting up extra early in the mornings, but on the bright side she didn’t have to speak to anyone and she was pretty sure all the horses loved her hilarious jokes she told them, unlike a certain surly old man she cohabited with who clearly was absent the day they were handing out senses of humor.
At least, she thought absently, she didn’t have to go to school. Yet. It was near enough for summer break to start that Maria had felt there wasn’t much point in her enrolling for a couple of weeks just to have three months off immediately. ‘Thank fucking Christ, finally some good news’, Ellie had muttered in response, earning her a disapproving glare from Joel. ‘Right, my fucking manners, Jesus, sorry’, Ellie responded, which just resulted in Joel tossing his hands up in the air, exasperated and Maria folding her arms across her chest. ‘What? I said sorry! That’s like, the definition of manners, how am I the asshole?’
Yep, they were settling in just fine.
Ellie hated days Joel would go on patrols. They were too long and the house too quiet with him not in it. Being alone with just her own thoughts as company was never good, she had soon figured out. At first she tried to just sleep the day away when he would be gone but it seemed she wasn’t able to sleep without him anywhere more than a few metres away from her. When they’d first moved in they both tried to be normal fucking human beings and sleep in their own rooms and their own beds but not less than an hour after they’d said their goodnights on their first night in Jackson Ellie had roamed out of her room to seek out Joel ‘just need to make sure the old fucker didn’t croak in his sleep or something’ she had reasoned with herself, only to take one step outside of her room and nearly trip over Joels legs sprawled on the floor as he had apparently set himself up just outside her bedroom door, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the wall.
“We’re pathetic” Ellie sighed, sliding down the wall to sidle up next to him, head instinctively leaning onto his shoulder.
“Totally” Joel had sighed in agreement.
Shortly afterwards they had fallen asleep just like that, sitting on the floor, limbs spread across the hallway, and Joel’s back cursed him for it the following morning.
The next night, and for nearly two weeks afterwards, they had set up camp in the living room instead; mattresses on the floor just a few feet apart, Joel always closest to the front door, just in case but also out of habit. Finally, and maybe after Tommy had wandered in early one morning and teased them endlessly about having “sleepovers” and whether or not they braided each others hair too, they had agreed to try sleeping in their own rooms and most nights it went off without incident. Other nights however, Ellie would wake up covered in a sheen of sweat and flailing her arms wildly only to open her eyes suddenly and see Joel looming above her, grabbing onto her arms to try and still her and speaking calmly to her, hushing her. Whispered “babygirl’s” and “I got you’s” and “it’s me, it’s ok, you’re ok’s” whispered into the harsh darkness of her bedroom, reminding her of where she was until he’d brought her back down to earth and she’d settle again. She hated those nights. Hated feeling helpless like that, and like she was a little kid that needed coddling after her bad dreams, but dammit all if she didn’t immediately allow Joel to wrap her up in his willing embrace each time, seeking comfort in the warmth he provided. She could feel embarrassed about it in the morning, that could be Tomorrow Ellie’s problem because in the moment, Joel’s comfort was everything she needed and she’d take everything he offered.
The dreams tended to all be more or less the same. Winter. Snow. Fire. Smoke. Blood. David’s face; or what was left of it after she’d bludgeoned it unrecognizable with a very large knife. On nights where the dreams decided to be particularly cruel, she’d lose her battle against David. Those were always the most jarring to wake from and took her an extra long time to be able to fall back asleep afterward, if she could at all. Thankfully her dreams didn’t always cause her to scream or throw a fit in her sleep so she didn’t always wake Joel. Sometimes she seemed to just suffer through them quietly with a few muffled whimpers and tosses and turns in the bedsheets and Joel was none the wiser until she’d come down for breakfast and he’d notice the darkness under her eyes and could tell she had a fitful sleep. Despite not always waking up thrashing from them, she always remembered her dreams the next morning; whether she wanted to or not.
However the dream she had last night was somewhat new territory. She’d had it a few times in the past, but after nearly 2 months in Jackson now it seems to be happening more and more frequently, almost more so than her David nightmares. It differed slightly, night to night, probably because she didn’t have factual evidence to pull from, but it was always the hospital in Salt Lake City. Fireflies, Raiders, Marlene, Joel, and a hell of a lot of bloodshed. Each time she’d wake up from this dream in particular her head felt fuzzy, unsure. She hated not knowing what actually happened that day, maybe she’d be able to process it better if she had (not that she was exactly processing the whole David fiasco, she argued to herself). Joel had left out a lot of details. “Raiders attacked the hospital, I barely got us out of there” and that was it. And any time she’d asked him about it since he’d immediately shot her down and sternly told her not to bring it up again. Did he not realize that only stoked her inquisitiveness further? Has he met her?
She’d had the dream again last night only Joel had been one of the Raiders in her dream this time, slaughtering everyone in his path and she awoke only when he reached her, lying helplessly strapped to a medical bed with Raider Joel holding a gun tight against her temple.
Paging Dr. Freud, anyone?
She didn’t know what the hell any of it meant, she only knew she had to get to the bottom of whatever had happened in that hospital.
And so that was what was currently on Ellie’s mind today as she sat in the small window seat of her bedroom, knees pulled up to her chest as her gaze was locked to the outside, watching the small but bustling community of Jackson on this hot August afternoon. The sun was still high in the sky which meant it would be hours before Joel returned from patrol duty. Which meant hours Ellie would be here alone, with only her own thoughts as company.
Like she said, she hated days Joel was on patrol.
A knock on the front door a few minutes later pulled Ellie from her reverie and she quickly scooted off the window seat and headed down the stairs to answer it.
Swinging the door open, confusion crossed Ellie’s features as her eyes landed on a woman she had scarcely recognized. It was an older woman, Mrs. - something or other, Ellie couldn’t be bothered to remember. Parker? Patterson? Definitely a P name. Ellie recognized her as one of the town council members that she had had that delightful meeting with just shortly after her and Joel’s arrival. Given by the less than impressive look this woman was giving her right now, she remembered it as well and must’ve drawn the short straw today to come here to… well, what exactly was she her for?
“Is it Joel?” Ellie blurt out suddenly, panic evident in her tone. “Did something happen, is he OK?”
The woman looked confused for a second and then suddenly let out a small laugh and waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh heavens no, nothing like that Dear, I’m sure everything’s fine. I’m here on official town business. For you, actually, Miss Ellie”
“Oh…” Ellie’s face scrunched up at that. Ellie didn’t have any official fucking business with anyone. Other than being an official pain in Joel’s ass.
“I understand you will be enrolling in school this Fall” the woman began in way of explanation and Ellie nodded slightly. Don’t fucking remind her.
“Well I have here your registration form you’ll need to fill out and have your…” she paused, looking a little helpless, as most adults did when they tried to discern just who exactly Ellie and Joel were to each other.
“Have Mr. Miller,” she settled on instead, “sign it and then you bring it along with you on your first day so we can file it away in your record. I know we are a few weeks away yet but I like to get these out early”
“Oh, um, ok I guess…” Ellie shrugged, reaching out and grabbing the single piece of paper.
“Just a little formality” the woman waved her hand again. “You know, we need your basic information and things like that, just so we have it on hand, should anything come up and we need it”
Ellie wondered briefly then why Maria hadn’t dropped it off, or even had Tommy do it if she was too chicken shit.
“Just making my rounds to all the new students today” the woman explained, as if she’d been reading Ellie’s mind.
“Right” Ellie nodded. “Well uh… thanks, for the homework before school even fucking starts” she mumbled the last part under her breath but given by the tiny gasp and look of horror that flashed across the woman in front of her, Ellie’s certain she heard her.
“Alllllllrighty then. Take care then, bye bye now” Ellie quipped, slamming the door in the woman’s face. Something she’d seen recently in a movie that Joel had shown her that had her in a total fit of giggles for the entire night.
Ellie wandered back into the house and dropped the piece of paper to the coffee table before flopping herself down onto the sofa. She bent over the table to have a look at what information she’d need to be giving out before she decided whether she’d bother trying to find a pen to fill it out now or if she’d push it off to later.
Name. Ok, easy. Date of Birth. Well, she’d had a general idea. Would writing just the month and year suffice, she wondered absently. Known Allergies. The thought of writing “learning, via fascist institutions” crossed her mind and she laughed a little to herself but then remembered Joel had to sign off on it so she better not. Dude could be such a killjoy. Next? Parent(s) and/or Guardian. Pass? Joel, she’d guess was technically her Guardian? Whatever that meant. Why wasn’t there just a spot for “other human being reluctantly tasked, due to unfortunate fucking happenstance, with keeping you alive” Emergency Contact (other than above) + Relationship. Also pass. The only other person in this godforsaken town she even liked speaking to besides Joel was in fact not a person, but a horse named Shimmer. And she didn’t think quadrupeds counted for emergency contacts.The whole notion of Ellie being in an actual emergency and some townsperson running to the stables to tell Shimmer all about did give her a bit of a chuckle though. She made a mental note to jot that down in her notebook, maybe make it into her own little comic series.
Finally at the bottom, a signature line for “Parent and/or Guardian”. There it was again, taunting her, laughing at her.
In the end Ellie decided that no, today was not the day she would fill any of this out. She couldn’t answer half of it anyway, so what was the point. Stupid school. Even shitty FEDRA school knew not to ask orphans stupid fucking questions like this. Ellie folded up the paper into a small square and shoved it into the front zipper pocket of her backpack that was leaning next to the couch. Another problem for another day. Or hell she’d probably just throw it at Joel and tell him that the annoying old lady (who is somehow even more of a dinosaur than Joel and still alive) said it was his job to do it. Yeah, that might work.
With a heavy sigh Ellie laid back onto the couch cushions, arm coming to rest over her face as she tried to shut out the sunlight pouring in through the open windows. Maybe if she was bored enough she’d fall asleep and then Joel would be home.
Another two weeks had come and gone and Ellie’s Salt Lake City dream variation had now been haunting her almost nightly, completely replacing her usual David nightmares. Just two nights ago it had been traumatizing enough to rouse Joel from his sleep and he had come into her room as he always had when her screams woke him only this time, when she had become alert enough to notice his presence, she had shoved him off her damn near hard enough he almost fell off the bed.
“Ellie!” He had gasped at the surprise. “It’s me, it’s-”
“I know!” she scowled in response, shoving at his shoulder when he tried once again to reach out to comfort her.
“Ellie” he sighed, keeping his distance this time, but holding his hands out in front of him as if he was approaching some scared wild animal he was trying to coax into calmness.
“I’m not,” Ellie began and huffed, unsure what she wanted to say, she just knew she didn’t want his comfort. Not this time.
“I’m not a baby Joel! I don’t need you to come running in here every time I have a stupid bad dream. I’m 15 years old, not 6!”
Joel flinched, as if her words physically harmed him. She saw the look of hurt flash across his face before he swallowed hard, dropped his arms and gave her a short nod before pushing himself up from her bed and seeing himself out of her bedroom. Part of her wanted to chase him out of her room, tell him how sorry she was and fall into his arms and forget the exchange ever happened, but a larger part of her knew she couldn’t do that. Joel’s been lying to her. She isn’t stupid. She knows he isn’t telling her the whole truth (if he’s even telling her any truth at all) and it’s because of him that she’s having these nightmares in the first place. So no, he didn’t get to cause the nightmares and then run in and play hero for it. Not if she ever wanted to get to the bottom of what really happened.
Luckily the two days following that incident Joel had been on patrol so she hadn’t seen much of him. They’d have dinner together but it was mostly in silence. Joel would ask about her day and she would mumble a “fine” as she pushed her food around her plate and then she’d fake being tired and go to bed shortly afterwards, foregoing their usual movie or board games they’d do after dinner.
~~~
Joel remained seated at the dining room table long after Ellie had pretended to be tired and gone off to bed. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew her well enough to know when she was tired or when she was flat out avoiding him on purpose and this was certainly the latter. She’d been like this for days now and it was really starting to get to him. He didn’t know what had happened to cause it either. Sure she got moody with him sometimes, as all teenagers did around their parents or even authority figures, but she’d never been like this or for this long without at least a hint of what troubled her.
He thought back to just two nights ago when he’d woken up to her screaming and thrashing in her bed. That in and of itself was not unusual for her, but the way she reacted towards him was completely out of left field. She had shoved him off of her as if he were the bad guy, the one haunting her dreams, when all he wanted to do was hold her until her trembling subsided, the way he always had.
“I’m 15 years old, not 6!” The words she spat at him still plagued his mind. His heart nearly broke at that. Not at the fact that she didn’t always need him coddling her, he knew the day would come where she didn’t and he would be so glad for her (even if it did hurt his heart just a little to not be needed like that anymore as she got older) but the part that killed him is when she told him she was 15. 15! When had he missed that? When they’d met she had been 14, and if he wasn’t such an idiot he would’ve done the math and figured logically that hey, nearly a year has past since we met, shouldn’t you have had a birthday by now? But it didn’t cross his mind all the time they’d been together so he never thought to ask. But to hear her just gloss over the fact that she was an entire year older and he’d never acknowledged it or even knew about it, damn near broke him. Sure, FEDRA probably didn’t exactly throw you a party and invite all your classmates and bake you a damn cake but surely her birthday must have meant something to her, hadnt it? Enough that she would at least want Joel to acknowledge it. “Hey asshole it’s my birthday so you have to laugh at all my jokes today” or something similar at least.
One thing for sure, no matter what the hell was going on with Ellie right now, was that he owed her a damn birthday present.
...
The next day Joel had the day off from patrol, but Joel being Joel couldn’t just sit around his comfortable house all day and do next to nothing so he decided he’d be productive. Ellie had gone off to her morning shift at the stables anyway (and even if she hadn’t he had a good feeling she wouldn’t want to hang out with him regardless, if the last couple of days had been any indication) so he figured today was as good a time as any to get started on a project he’d been meaning to for the past month. So that’s how he found himself standing in the middle of his garage on this hot August morning.
He stood in the middle of the concrete floor scratching the back of his head, not entirely sure where to begin… The place had apparently, before he and Ellie moved into the main house, been a dumping ground for anything and everything that the residents of Jackson no longer had space for. There were broken appliances, boxes piled to the ceiling in some places, furniture, some lumber, and probably a hell of a lot more that Joel had yet to uncover. His first order of business had to be sorting through everything to see what would be kept and what could be tossed. See if he could make heads or tails of what was wrong with anything broken and if he could fix it, and for anything else it was a matter of whether anybody could make any use of it and if not, he’d get rid of it.
A while back he'd had the idea that maybe he could turn it into a decent hangout spot for Ellie, somewhere she could have her own space, have her friends over, that kind of thing. He remembered himself as a teenager taking over the family garage to practice with his band and he and his friends had spent every damn day for the better part of 3 summers in it, creating some of the best memories of his life. He wanted Ellie to have that too. Maybe, he thought inwardly, he could fix it up and surprise her with it. Try and have it ready to give her for her 16th birthday, whenever the hell that was.
He still had to get to the bottom of that, but first he had to get Ellie to even speak more than three words at a time to him; something which she hadn’t seemed to be able to do as of late. He had no idea what was going on in that girl's head these days, but he needed to figure it out. He would talk to her. Today, he told himself.
Joel kept busy for the next couple of hours. He’d started with sorting through the dozens of boxes, finding much more trash than treasure, just as he had figured he would. It was scorching outside and he was hot and covered in sweat but told himself he’d at least finish sorting through the boxes before he took a break so when he looked down to see the last box that required sorting he murmured a quiet ‘thank god’ as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and then bent down to pick up the final box. Pulling the box out of the corner Joel noticed a small dark blue duffle bag that looked out of place shoved in behind where he pulled the box from. It wasn’t covered in a thick layer of dust like everything else in the room had been, and moreover, he’d noticed it because it was a bag he had brought home from a patrol a month or so ago. Back then it was full of movies, art supplies and a few other things he had found out on the road that he thought Ellie might like so he’d brought it home for her and given it to her that night.
“What the hell?” Joel wondered aloud, placing the box back on the ground and reaching instead for the duffle. He had seen her using the things he had brought home in the bag before so he was certain she hadn’t just taken the bag from him and tossed it in the back of the garage. Whatever was in the bag it seemed like she had been hiding it, and he’d silently hoped that whatever he found inside might give him some insight into just what the hell was going on with her these days.
~~~
It was late afternoon when Ellie finally decided to call it a day. Her shift at the stable was normally only 3 hours but today she knew Joel was at home and she was nothing if not a professional avoider these days so she decided to stay late and do an extra thorough cleaning of the stables and the horses. She stayed out there until the sun, high in the sky, became too sweltering for her to stand. Her clothes clung to her body from all the sweat and she was in desperate need of a shower. If she could draw that out long enough when she got home it wouldn’t be much longer until dinner and maybe she’d convince Joel to go to the mess hall tonight rather than dinner at home so they could at least have other people to look at while they both pretended she wasn’t completely ignoring him.
Yes, a perfect plan.
Her perfect plan however fizzled abruptly when she walked into their home only to find Joel standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms folded across his chest with an empty blue duffel bag hanging over a dining chair; its contents spilled all over their eating table.
Shit.
“I need to shower” Ellie said, hoping to ignore him and turning towards the stairs.
“Ellie Williams you get back here this instant” Joel demanded, his tone leaving zero room for argument and Ellie groaned, turning back towards the kitchen. She stopped a few feet in front of him, let out a heavy sigh and let her arms drop to her sides.
“What?” she huffed in annoyance.
“You know damn well what. Sit your ass down, we’re having a conversation” Joel snapped, pointing towards one of the dining room chairs and Ellie rolled her eyes but obeyed him, shuffling past to plop down on the furthest chair and folding her arms defensively.
“Now you wanna explain to me just what in the hell all this is?” Joel asked, arm sweeping above the table top that was littered with canned foods, her knife that Maria had confiscated months ago (“not until you’re 16 Ellie” - bullshit), a handgun (this one she had managed to steal from Tommy, she was actually quite proud of when she pulled that one off), a box of ammo (Joel’s) and a road atlas of the United States.
“Well if I gotta explain fucking canned beans to you maybe you should be starting school next week instead of me” she huffed.
Judging by the vein in Joel’s neck that looked like it was about to explode through his skin, maybe not her wisest move.
“Don’t get smart with me Ellie” Joel threatened, pointing a finger at her. “Just what in the hell you were doing with a damn ‘go bag’, huh? You plan on runnin’ away or somthin’?”
“No” she offered weakly, looking away, anywhere but at Joel. She knew he’d never physically harm her, but he had never been this pissed with her before either and she did not like it.
Joel heaved a heavy sigh. He knew he had to reign in his anger but damnit if she didn’t make it difficult on him.
“Well then what the hell were you doing kiddo” Joel said softly, a sigh escaping his lips as his hands fell to his sides. Yes he was angry but he wanted a real conversation. He squatted down next to her so they were at eye level.
“I need to know what’s going on up here” he said, lightly tapping his index finger against her head before she batted it away.
“Will you talk to me please?” he asked gently. He wasn’t above begging at this point.
“You promised” she mumbled under her breath, head still facing away from him and staring at the blank wall instead.
“What?”
She turned towards him then, rolling her eyes. “You promised. I asked you if everything you said about the Fireflies was true and you promised it was. Tell me you didn’t fucking lie to me Joel” she seethed through gritted teeth and Joel closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a breath.
“This again, with the Fireflies? Ellie I -” he began but she was quick to cut him off.
“Last chance Joel. Last chance to tell me the fucking truth because if you lie to me again, I’m done. We’re done” Her words came out sharply and she saw Joel’s face flinch at her threat. She meant it too, she couldn’t live with someone who was lying to her about the single most important thing in her life. She wouldn’t live like that.
“I’ll fucking leave Joel, I will. I’ll do it when you’re out on patrol or fucking sleeping and you won’t be able to stop me. I’ll go to Salt Lake City myself and I will find out what happened, one way or another. And if I find out on my own that you lied to me, you’ll never see me again”
“Is that what the bag is for? Fucking road trip to Salt Lake City by yourself? Tryna' get yourself killed? Jesus, Ellie” Joel hung his head. He knew she’d do it too, and that thought absolutely terrified him. It scared him far more than whatever her reaction may be if he were to tell her the truth right now. Her running off like that, alone, and never seeing her again? Nope, no way. She could hate him for the rest of her life before he’d ever let that happen.
“Okay” he sighed with defeat, putting his hands up in surrender. Time to bite the bullet.
Joel stood up from his crouched position, his joints protesting when he did, and took a seat in the chair next to hers, folding his arms on the table.
“From the beginning” Ellie demanded.
“When I… came to, you know, in the hospital, Marlene was there” he began into the story he’d been dreading to tell her for months, unable to look her in the eyes, though he could feel her gaze boring into him from across the table. He wasn't sure how exactly he was supposed to tell her this. It would crush her, he knows. And how could he possibly make her understand? How does he tell her he'd burn the entire world down for her if it meant keeping her safe and have her not hate him for it? He'd failed Sarah. He'd failed Tess. He couldn't fail her, too. He wouldn't survive it, not again. Could she even grasp how he felt about her? Sure he wasn't exactly Mr. 'lets talk about our feelings' and neither was she, but he needed her to understand the simple fact that well, she was everything to him.
“God Damnit Ellie they were going to kill you!” he shouted, finally turning his head to look at her. “That’s the bottom line of it all, ok? They were gonna poke around in your fucking brain like a god damn game of Operation so they could remove the cordyceps and you’d be fucking dead”
Ok, maybe not exactly giving her the warm and fuzzies right now. He'd never been great with his words.
“No,” Ellie shook her head as tears began to well in her eyes. “That’s - that’s not true, you’re - you’re fucking lying!” she shoved hard at his shoulder but he barely moved.
“Ellie” he said her name softly now and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry baby, but it’s the truth. Marlene told me everything. She said that -” he sniffled quietly and wiped at his own wet eyes quickly with the back of his hand. “She said that they didn’t tell you so you wouldn’t be scared that you wouldn’t feel any pain and… they wouldn’t take me to you. Wouldn’t let me see you”. Fresh tears were streaming down Ellie’s face now that she frantically tried to wipe away with her shirt sleeve as she listened to Joel tell his side of the story.
He told her everything, even told her about his standoff with Marlene in the underground parking lot and how that ended and Ellie just listened silently, taking it all in.
“So you just... Killed everyone” Ellie summarized for him and Joel hung his head.
“Ellie” another sigh. “They had no evidence that their hare-brained scheme was going to work. They had no conclusive tests done and they wanted to murder their only test subject! Now I thought I was bringing you there to draw some blood or something, not cut your goddamn brain out of your head. Who knows if this hack Doctor even knew what he was doing!” Joel was getting revved up again but he couldn’t help himself, the anger he’d felt that day still bubbling at the surface all these months later.
“Could’ve been a goddamn Chiropractor for all we know, out there tryna play brain surgeon with my kids fucking head? Mnmm mmm” he shook his head and Ellie tried to ignore the fact that he’d just referred to her as his kid. “Not on my broken fucking watch, kiddo” he tapped his watch for emphasis as he stared directly into her eyes.
Her heart didn't allow her to ignore a comment like that and she'd felt it tighten in her chest, like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room and she could barely breathe. Ellie wasn’t sure if she wanted to crumble to the floor in tears or hit him as hard as she could.
She opted for neither and pushed herself back abruptly from the table and stood up and Joel followed suit, ready to grab for her if she had chosen this moment to make a run for it. They both stood still in a standoff, Joel could tell by the way her shoulders trembled that she was upset. He’d let her say what she had to say.
“We could’ve saved the world!” She shouted at him, her emotions running on overdrive in a way she hadn’t felt since their actual first night in Jackson all those months ago when she’d accused him of not caring about her. “The whole world, Joel!”
He stood in front of her, voice low and steady with his simple yet definite reply, “I did” - a breath. “I saved my whole world”
The words hung in the air between them, the silence growing heavily around them until finally Joel spoke again.
“I love you, Ellie” he admitted softly, looking straight at her as she lowered her head and twiddled her fingers nervously. He wondered absently if that was the first time she’d ever heard those words and his heart felt heavy in his chest at the thought.
“And truth be told, I don't care if that Doctor was the best brain surgeon on the damn planet and a cure was all but guaranteed, it wouldn't have changed my mind because I didn't have a choice. And I know you don't understand that right now and I don't expect you to. But I am sorry that I lied to you, ok? I am not, however, sorry for what I did and I will never be sorry for that.” he explained and she stayed still and silent in front of him so he continued. “Even if it means you hate me for the rest of my life, well… at least it means you’ll live to see it and I can never be sorry about that, not ever”
“I know you think this cure was your purpose Ellie but what if…” He stopped to shake his head before placing his hands on his hips and taking a breath. “What if you were my purpose?” He asked, unshed tears in his eyes as Ellie finally lifted her head to meet his gaze.
She let out a breath, trying to collect her thoughts before she responded but didn’t get a chance before the distinct crackling static of a walkie talkie coming to life grabbed both their attention.
“Joel, Ellie!” It was Tommy’s voice on the other end and he sounded frantic. Both Joel and Ellie were staring at the small black 2-way radio that was sitting on the kitchen counter. Joel made a move to grab for it before Tommy’s voice filled their small space again. “It’s Maria she -” his voice cut out as they heard Maria scream Tommy’s name from a distance away. “Oh shoot, I gotta go, we’re at the clinic!”
“Tommy!” Joel was yelling for his brother into the radio but getting no response. “Tommy! Tom- Damnit!” Joel huffed, slamming the radio back down on the counter. Leave it to his brother to call him with an apparent emergency, not tell him what the emergency was, and then go literal radio-silence on him.
“Let’s go” was all Joel said to Ellie and they were both running for the door.
The pair headed out into the street and made the short jog across town to where the clinic was housed. It was a two-storied brick building, one of the larger ones in town and one that thankfully by some miracle, Joel or Ellie had never had to visit before.
“Tommy?” Joel called out the moment they crossed the threshold inside, looking around but not seeing his brother - or anyone for that matter - in sight.
Suddenly they heard a bloodcurdling scream from Maria and both Ellie and Joel shared a quick glance before they both took off running up the stairs where the noise had come from.
They’d made it nearly all the way up the staircase when a second noise rang out through the house and this one stopped Joel dead in his tracks. He gripped the railing so he didn’t fall down the damn stairs as the distinct and familiar first cries of a newborn infant flooded the space.
“Holy shit!” Ellie whispered excitedly, also having come to a dead halt on the stairs when she’d heard the cry.
Joel took a minute to collect himself, holding the staircase railing in a death grip as he tried to get his breathing under control. That sound took him right back to the best day of his life, nearly 35 years ago when his little Sarah had taken her first breaths in this world and had changed his entire life in an instant. Hearing Tommy’s little one’s lungs working at full capacity would likely be the second best sound he’s ever heard in his life, Joel thinks.
“C’mon, lets go see!” Ellie said to him as she practically bounced up the rest of the stairs, eager to meet the latest Miller clan member.
“Ellie” Joel snapped out of his momentary daze to call out to her and she stopped just outside the closed door at the top of the stairs.
“Just, wait now” he told her as he climbed the rest of the stairs. Ellie obeyed, bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He didn’t want to barge in on whatever state Maria might be in right now; childbirth wasn’t exactly something you wanted a big audience for, so they waited outside the door for a couple minutes until everything started to quiet and finally the door opened as a woman that Joel recognized as the town doctor came out.
“Oh, looks like we have visitors!” The doctor said to Joel and Ellie but loud enough that Tommy and Maria could hear her. She pushed the door open wider so that Tommy and Maria could see who it was and Tommy waved them inside.
“S’ok Doc, they're family” Tommy smiled widely.
Ellie froze for a quick moment, glancing between Maria and Tommy and back to Joel but Joel just put a hand on her back and led her inside, apparently she was the only one overthinking the whole “family” comment. She stared at the scene before her, Maria lying in a bed under some blankets with a small bundle in her arms wrapped in a crisp white towel and Tommy hovering over her with possibly the biggest smile Ellie’s ever seen from anyone before, one hand brushing the top of Maria’s hair while the other laid protectively against one of her arms that held the baby.
“It’s a girl” Tommy announced to no one in particular, not able to tear his gaze away from his newborn daughter. “Name’s Rose,” he continued. “Rose Sarah Miller”
Ellie chanced a quick glance at Joel for that. Tommy seemed up in the clouds somewhere and just tossed Sarah’s name out there as if it might not swallow Joel up whole but Ellie, with two feet firmly on the floor and not in the sky, needed to make sure he was ok. To her surprise, a smile that nearly matched Tommy’s crossed Joel’s features and fresh tears came to his eyes.
Ellie let out a breath of relief.
“She’s beautiful, Tommy” Joel said sincerely and Ellie had never seen him look so happy before. It made her feel warm.
“Congratulations to you both” Joel said and both parents finally tore their gaze away from Rose long enough to acknowledge them.
“Ellie,” Maria piped up a moment later. “Would you like to hold her?”
Ellie stared wide-eyed for a few long seconds before she finally looked over to Joel, silently asking for permission.
“Well, go on” Joel nodded towards the bed and nudged her shoulder with his.
Ellie smiled brightly and quickly crossed the room to where a large armchair sat next to Maria, the opposite side that Tommy was occupying.
“Do I just sit?” Ellie asked, she wasn’t sure what the protocol was, literally never having held a newborn before.
“Yeah, sit there, hold your arms out and I’ll pass her to you. Just always one hand under her head ok?” She instructed and Ellie nodded her head before sliding her backpack off her shoulders and dropping it to the ground.
“Rose, this is your cousin, Ellie” Maria spoke softly as she passed the small warm bundle of life over. Ellie quickly glanced up to Joel, eyes widened with pure joy at Maria’s words. She’d never been a cousin to anyone before. Hell, she’d never been anything to anyone before. Not really. And suddenly here she was, apparently now part of a family of 5.
Ellie was sure to have one hand under Rose’s head and the other arm cradled her against her chest as she held the tiny gurgling baby in her arms, mesmerized by her instantly. She now understood how Tommy couldn't’ tear his gaze away from her either.
“So fucking cool” Ellie whispered, playing with the tiny pink fingers that were reaching for her hand.
“Sorry” Ellie immediately admitted sheepishly. Maria didn’t like her cursing under normal circumstances, let alone when a newborn baby was in her arms.
Maria shot her a look but her mouth curled up into a small smile. “I’ll let it slide since you’re excited, but let me tell you if my baby’s first word is a curse, you are losing your babysitting privileges Missy”
“I’ll watch my mouth around her, I swear” Ellie assured her frantically before focusing back on Rose.
“Hard to believe you were ever once that small huh Ellie?” Tommy said with a laugh as Ellie stared down at baby Rose in complete wonder.
“Or that quiet” Joel added without missing a beat and Ellie rolled her eyes at him playfully.
“Don’t listen to him little Rose” Ellie cooed to the infant. “You and me are gonna be best buddies and we’ll gang up on your mean old Uncle Joel”
“Oh great so there’ll be two pains in my butt, can’t wait for that” Joel deadpanned before he crossed the room over to Ellie and held his hands out.
“Let me see that niece of mine anyway, you’re hoggin’ all the new baby smell”
Ellie grinned widely at how playful Joel was being and decided it looked really good on him. It reminded her of the first time she made him laugh, like really made him laugh. The night right before they met Henry and Sam when she had told him a stupid joke that left them both in tears from laughing so hard.
Joel completely relaxed when Rose got into his arms and he rocked and bounced her gently in his embrace. He looked completely in his element even though Ellie figured it has probably been decades since he last held a baby. He was smiling down at her and letting her small chubby hands grasp his finger and Ellie just watched in amazement. Babies had some sort of magical power or spell it seemed, she thought absently. These hardened fighters, killers, even, now all sat in this room as four big piles of melted goo for this tiny little human wrapped up in a bath towel.
They stayed for another hour or so, Ellie manipulating Joel into letting her have Rose again until the Doctor came back into the room, gently reminding Joel and Ellie that Maria needed her rest. Ellie groaned in disappointment but understood and passed the baby to Tommy after planting the gentlest kiss to the tip of her tiny nose.
“Now you let us know if you need anything” Joel said, his hands landing on Maria’s shoulders and she smiled up at him.
“We will, don’t worry”
“Come on kiddo, we better get home” Joel sighed, placing a hand to the back of Ellie’s neck and steering her towards the door. “These two are gonna need their rest, trust me”
They all said their goodnights and Joel and Ellie headed back down the stairs and out the front door.
“How fucking cool was that!” Ellie yelled up to the now darkened sky the moment they were outside. “A fucking baby?!”
“Hey what happened to watching your mouth?” Joel asked, but his tone was playful.
“I said around the baby, she can’t hear me now” Ellie said with a flippant wave of her hand towards the clinic.
Joel just hummed in agreement. He should’ve known better anyway.
They were nearly all the way home when Ellie stopped and slapped a hand to her forehead.
“Oh shit”
“What?” Joel asked, turning towards her.
“I forgot my backpack, I put it down when I was holding Rose”
Joel looked between Ellie and the clinic. They were more than halfway home already, not that it was very far, but it was late and Maria was supposed to be getting some rest.
“I’ll be quick, and quiet, I swear, in and out!” Ellie said briskly, likely already knowing what he was going to say and Joel sighed but nodded his head.
“Hurry up then” he gestured toward the clinic. “I’ll meet you at home”
Ellie ran off towards the clinic, not waiting for Joel to change his mind. When she got inside she slowly walked up the stairs, not wanting to make too much noise in case anyone was actually asleep. When she reached the top of the stairs and the door to Maria’s room it was partially open, she poked her head inside first to look.
Maria looked fast asleep but Tommy was slowly pacing the room with a slightly fussing baby Rose held in his arms as he looked down at her and talked softly, rocking her gently as he spoke.
“It’s okay babygirl, Daddy’s got you” he whispered into the stillness of the room. “I got you and I ain’t gonna let anybody ever hurt you, you hear me babygirl? I’ll keep you safe, always, I promise”
Tears welled up in Ellie’s eyes as she watched the two of them. She thought about Joel and Sarah. She had thought about them a lot tonight, and she wondered if Joel did too. Then she thought about how Joel had wrapped her in his arms after David and had all but said the same things that Tommy was telling his daughter now. She could hear the love in the way Tommy spoke to Rose and it hit her like a ton of bricks that it was no different than how Joel had spoken to her too.
Not wanting to dwell on that too much longer; or stand in the doorway prying on a private moment between father and daughter either, Ellie quickly swept away the tears at her eyes and gently rapped her knuckle against the wood door and peeked her head all the way inside once she had Tommy’s attention.
“Sorry I um, forgot my bag” she said sheepishly, nodding her head towards her backpack that lay on the ground resting up against the armchair.
“Oh, go ahead” Tommy whispered so as to not wake Maria. Ellie quickly crossed the room and grabbed her bag before quickly making her exit. Offering a quick wave over her shoulder as she left the room. She probably could’ve left it for tomorrow, but there was something important inside of it she decided she needed tonight.
Closing the door quietly behind her when she entered her home she was unsurprised to find Joel still awake and waiting for her. He was in the kitchen, gathering up all the items from the table and stuffing them back into the duffel bag. Ellie watched from the threshold, fidgeting with her fingers.
“We still needin’ this?” Joel asked directly, looking right at Ellie. The magical baby spell apparently over and reality settling back in around them.
“No” Ellie answered quietly, just looking at the floor.
“Good, put it away then” Joel replied, holding the bag out towards her. She nodded once and took the bag, grabbing the cans out one by one and putting them away in the cupboard. Her knife she’d slid into the side pocket of her backpack and she saw Joel’s eyes follow it but he said nothing; she figured he probably actually preferred her being armed anyway, for her own safety. She handed Joel the box of ammunition and left the gun in the bag, placing it down on the kitchen chair and shrugging at Joel.
“Tommy’s. I’ll… give it back to him tomorrow”
“Ok” was all Joel responded with and a silence fell over the room for several minutes.
“Look, Ellie” Joel began eventually, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. He looked tired. “I think I… Well, I said pretty much everything I needed to say, you know, earlier”
“I know” Ellie nodded, her voice quiet. She had a lot to digest, emotionally, after everything tonight.
“Are you… ok?” are we ok, she knows is what he means but doesn’t ask.
“Yeah” she says, and it’s the truth. She still hates that Joel lied to her, repeatedly, but after tonight, well, she can admit she understands why he did what he did.
“You keep going for family” Joel’s words from nearly a year ago ring in her head. She didn’t get it then, but she does now. She just met Rose an hour ago and she knows already she’d take a bullet for her if it came to it. Do anything to keep her safe, her little baby cousin, her family. Seeing Tommy with Rose made her think of how gutted Joel must have been when he’d lost Sarah and how of course he would do anything to prevent ever having to live through that again.
“My whole world.” She closes her eyes, remembering the pain on his face at the confession.
“Well, it’s late” Joel says matter of factly and it snaps her out of her reverie.
“Yeah, right” Ellie nods, hands still clasped in front of her and gaze still permanently fixed to the floor. She turns then and heads up the stairs towards her bedroom.
“Hey, Ellie” his voice stops her in her tracks and she turns, finally looking him in the eyes as he stands at the bottom of the stairs.
“When’s your birthday?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest and she puffs out a laugh. She wasn’t expecting that.
“Um… like April? Sometime… I don’t know what day exactly. When’s yours?”
“September 26th”
“Oh cool, so like exactly one month difference from Rose” she smiles, genuinely thinking it's pretty awesome that they were both born on the 26th day of the month. “Well, one month and like a thousand years or whatever” she finishes her thought, not able to help herself and Joel rolls his eyes.
“Ha ha” Joel deadpans. “‘Be nice to me now, or I’m not gonna get ya a belated birthday present”
“You’re gonna get me a present?” Ellie’s eyes lit up at that.
“I’ll think a’somthin’” Joel nodded. “In the meantime you think on it and pick a day in April so we can celebrate properly next year”
“Turning soft on me old man?”
“Guilty as charged I guess” Joel just shrugged and Ellie smirked.
“Goodnight Joel” she said and he nodded.
“G’night Ellie”
Before she could talk herself out of it Ellie quickly padded down the stairs and threw her arms around Joel’s waist in a hug, nearly knocking him over in surprise she thinks by the way he partially stumbled backwards before wrapping his arms around her too. He kisses the top of her head and then she lets go, turning around and scurrying up the stairs to go to bed.
She sleeps through the night that night, for the first time in months.
~~~
Joel slowly makes his way down the stairs the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he heads towards the kitchen to make some coffee. It’s early but he had heard Ellie go out the door for her shift at the stables and it woke him up. Not that he minded, he liked to be up early, even on his days off from patrol. Besides, he had a garage to fix up, he owed Ellie that birthday present, after all.
Wandering into the kitchen Joel prepared his coffee and went to bring the steaming mug to his lips but stopped when he noticed something on the table when he’d turned around. There was a piece of paper lying there with a smaller piece of paper placed on top of it. He picked up the smaller piece and read the note that was scribbled in Ellie’s familiar uppercase handwriting.
OLD MAN -
That dinosaur of a lady on the council with the stick up her butt said I had to fill out this form and that you need to sign it. Fascism wins again. Heheheheh just kidding, kind of. See you tonight. Chef Boyardee?
Love, Ellie.
Joel stared at the note, particularly the last two words and a smile reached his eyes. He folded it neatly and put it in his pocket to put it in a safe place later so he could hang on to it. If he’d had a picture frame he’d probably damn well frame it. Jesus, he had gone soft.
Next he picked up the form underneath and glanced over the information Ellie had given.
Name. Ellie Williams-Miller. Joel’s heart caught in his throat but he swallowed it down and kept reading. Date of Birth. April 26th, 2009. He smiled. She’d chosen the same day that his and Rose’s birthdays had fallen on. Cute kid. Known Allergies. None. Joel commended her for not writing in a joke about being allergic to learning or something equally ridiculous. Parent(s) and/or Guardian. Joel Miller. She had circled over 'parent'. There went his heart flip flopping in his chest again. Pull it together old man. Emergency Contact (other than above) + Relationship. Tommy Miller (Uncle). He’d bet Tommy couldn’t wait to be addressed as an Uncle again. He briefly wondered if Ellie would ever call him Uncle Tommy. Maybe he’d let her know that Tommy might like that and let her decide if she wants to.
The last line was for parent/guardian signature and Joel quickly scribbled his name down and then stared at the form again until his coffee had surely gone cold.
Ok, Maybe he needed two picture frames.
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Mr Evershed x Student!reader - supposed to be
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And if ur able to I had another idea about a student!reader who has a chronic illness, and just some comfort from him - Anon 💜
A/N: I know you request another one with this but I’m having issues trying to figure out how to write it so I won’t be able to write it right now am afraid, sorry!!
Mr Evershed was curious when he first started teaching at the school and he saw your name on the register, but almost every class for nearly a month you were marked as an authorised absence.
As he walked into the room today he saw a face in the corner of the room he hadn’t seen before, and since your name was the only name he couldn’t place to a face, he assumed it was.
When he was calling the register he looked up as he called your name, and you raised your hand slightly before lowering it.
“It’s been ages, where have you been?” Sam whispered.
“At home…” you replied.
She nodded her head and gave you a small smile, resting her arms on the table as she looked at you.
“Is it bad?” She asked.
You shrugged lightly.
“I guess… I.. I don’t know…”
She frowned and nodded her head.
You guys carried on having your hushed conversation while Mr Evershed wasn’t paying attention and when he was you quickly stopped.
As class drew to a close, he let everyone start packing away and walked over to you, crouched next to your desk.
“Do you mind staying after class?” He asked quietly.
“Can Sam stay?” You replied.
“If she wants.” He smiled.
You looked to your friend and she nodded, so while everyone else was leaving you both stayed sat there while he said bye to them all.
Once the last student was gone he closed the door and walked back over, taking a seat opposite the pair of you.
“I’d just like to introduce myself, it’s nothing serious don’t worry. I’m Mr Evershed, you’ve been absent for a while, so i just want to make sure you’re okay catching up on everything.” He explained.
You nodded.
“It’s nice to meet you sir, I’m okay with catching up, Sam brings me her notes every day.”
“Well that’s nice of her, thank you Sam. If you’re struggling or you need anything my door is always open, okay?” He asked.
“Yes sir, thanks!”
He smiled and gestured to the door.
“You can get going, enjoy your lunch.” He smiled.
You guys left and went to the library to enjoy the peace.
Every so often he would hold you back and just check up on you, making sure you were doing okay and that you were able to handle your workload.
One day, sitting in the library listening to some music as you did some homework, you saw someone in the edges of your vision sit in front of you.
Looking up, you smiled at the now acting headteacher.
“Hey Mr Evershed.”
You slid your headphones down and closed your book.
“Hey, everything okay? Shouldn’t you be in a class right now?”
You laughed a little.
“I think Mrs Carter forget to mention some things to you sir. I am supposed to have class, PE, but I’m unable to attend because of health issues, so I sit here. It’s in my file if you want to check.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“No, no, I believe you don’t worry. I suppose with the chaos that’s been going on some things have been forgotten.”
“Well, if you don’t mind explaining them that would be great.” He smiled.
You sighed, frowning a little as you shook your head.
“No… I don’t really want to explain if that’s okay? If you really want to know you can call my parents or Mrs Carter, or ask Sam, they’re the only ones that know.”
“I won’t force you to tell me, I trust you have a good reason but… if you want to talk about it you know I’m here, okay?” He said softly.
You nodded your head and gave him a small smile while thanking him.
Mr Evershed started to pick up on things he wouldn’t have noticed before, how you barely went outside, where possible you were sitting or leaning on something.
Even when the fire bell was ringing, you were stood in line leaning against Sam as she spoke to someone else.
You seemed half asleep most of the time, and you didn’t eat much either. Whether it was due to whatever was wrong, or because you spent most of your time in the library he wasn’t sure.
Then he noticed a dip in your attendance, the increase in calls in sick and he couldn’t sit around anymore.
He was worried about you and he needed answers.
Walking to a classroom, he peaked his head in and pointed at Sam, gesturing for her to come out.
She grabbed her stuff and walked down while students whispered and talked.
“Sorry, it was just the best time to catch you.” Mr Evershed said.
“Alright I guess.” She shrugged.
They walked to his office and sat down.
“I was wondering if you’ve heard from (Y/N)?”
Sam frowned a little.
“Not since yesterday, but I think they’re sleeping.”
Mr Evershed rose a brow.
“So they’re not coming into school so they can sleep?” He asked.
“No! No, it’s not like that sir I swear it’s…” she trailed off.
Sam sighed, running a hand through her hair as she shook her head.
“Look it’s not my place to say, but they’re coming back tomorrow.”
Mr Evershed nodded and let Sam leave.
The following day he kept an eye out for you, and when he saw you walking up the path late to class he got up from the chair he was sitting in and stood at the door.
“A word please?” He asked.
You nodded your head and trailed behind him as he led you to his office.
You sat down and buried your nose into the fabric of your hoodie.
“I’m really worried about you, can you please tell me what’s going on?” He asked.
You looked away and sighed, knowing you couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer.
“I… I have cancer…” you mumbled, “I’m sick…”
Mr Evershed stared at you in shock.
“I’ve been sick for a while my mum and dad they keep saying I’m going to get better…”
“You don’t think you will?” He asked softly.
You shook your head and looked up at him. He could see the defeat in your eyes.
“No… it’s metastasised… all my treatment is doing is just slowing it down…”
Mr Evershed got up and walked over, he crouched down, resting his arms on his knees as he looked up at you.
“That’s still something.” He smiled.
“How? How is it still something?” You snapped softly
He smiled at you.
“Because it means you’ve got more time to be here. To do what you want to do.”
“I can’t do what I want to do because I can’t play sports… I can’t run around or play games or anything…”
Mr Evershed hummed and stood up.
“What do you want to do?”
“I wanna play football… I wanna skip class and have fun.. I wanna just live my life to the fullest.”
Mr Everhsed looked at the clock and walked over, holding his hands out to you.
“Come on then.”
“What?” You looked at him shocked.
“You’re going to skip class, and me and you are going to play some football, come on.”
You grinned and let him pull you up, happily following him outside as he grabbed a ball.
He set it on the ground and hung his jacket and blazer over the goal.
He was going easy on you, you knew that, he was letting you win but you didn’t care because you were having fun.
You didn’t have to worry about getting hurt or not being able to keep up because it was you against him.
Every time you scored he cheered with you.
It didn’t last long because you grew tired pretty quickly and he grabbed his jacket, setting it on the ground next to the goal.
Mr Evershed helped you sit down and dropped his blazer over your shoulder, crouching in front of you as he smiled softly.
“Are you okay?”
You were gasping for air slightly but still smiling as you nodded your head.
“Yeah…”
He smiled.
He wouldn’t normally condone this behaviour, but you wanted to live like a normal kid and he was going to do everything in his power to make that happen, even if it meant you ditching classes to play football with him
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Perfect Storm - Dean Winchester x Reader
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A/N: Hi friends! I know I’ve been rather absent with posting stuff but life has been HECTIC! I work two jobs, seven days a week right now so it’s a lot and I’m exhausted. Anywho, this imagine is part of @supraveng ‘s follower challenge! I’ve been working on this since like August of 2022 or so and was supposed to be done by the first of September but she allowed me an extension. Thanks for that babe, and congrats on 500 follows! 
Masterlist of all Masterlists| Supernatural Masterlist
Warnings: FLUFF! Breakdown, crying, comfort. Someone has a HUGE breakdown so if that’s a trigger for you, I am sorry!
Word Count: 5,887
Thanks for being patient with me friends! Love to you all!
It’s been six weeks since we’ve been on the road, trying to figure out where Chuck could be hiding. That asshat has been messing with Sammy and I for way too long, trying to take over the world. Sure, he’s God but that doesn’t mean he has to control every little thing and try killing us in the process! And since we have no leads, we’ve been trying to find other cases to work and more people to save. I was currently sitting behind the wheel of my beloved Baby, Sam beside me, scrolling through his phone, while AC/DC played from the car stereo and a pretty impressive drum solo came up.
“Dean, for once can we listen to anything but AC/DC?” Sam asks, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as I continue my solo. 
“Sammy, what have I always said?  Driver picks the music,” 
“Shotgun shuts his cake hole, I know,” he finished my sentence. “But what if I drove?”
“Oh risky question, little brother” I reply.
“I’ll drive when you sleep.” 
“Yeah and how often do I actually sleep, Sam?” 
Last time I slept without a nightmare was…well I don’t really know. The nightmares have been getting increasingly worse the last few months. Not that I’ve slept well before that but since Jack accidently killed our Mom, that’s been a struggle. I’ve watched her die twice now, something no child should ever have to see, especially at four years old. But even the second time, it's pretty bad. I still hate the kid for what he did but I’ve forgiven him…for now. Sam had a somber look on his face and knew I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 
“So get this, there have been an unusual amount of homicides in a small town in Northern Texas, more than they normally deal with in the year, in just six months.”
“Huh, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing. People are just nuts today, Sammy,”
“True, but there is something that seems like we would do. Each time someone goes to recover the body, there is nothing left.” Sam says.
“Okay that might be something we could work on but, I’m not convinced it’s a monster yet,” I say.  
“Maybe not, but I think it’ll be worth checking out.”
Redirecting our path, I drove Baby in a U-turn and headed off to the nearest small town in Northern Texas, where these cases stemmed from. Several hours passed and we ended up in Wichita Falls and rolled into a small motel on the east side of town. Once we were settled, Sam pulled out his laptop and began typing away at the keys while I searched for a place to get a good burger by looking through flyers in the room. Sam tuned into a police scanner and soon enough there was a call in regards to suspicious activity near our motel.
‘”Dean, I think we got something,” Sam says, turning the volume up.
“All units, we have gunshots out by the WayfarerMotel. RP (reporting party) advised at least six shots were heard, no sound of vehicles but advised there were people arguing on the south side of the property near the freeway,” A female voice called over the radio and responses of “10-4” were soon followed.
Sam and I grabbed our guns, checking to make sure they were loaded and ready to go. We didn’t interfere with the police but did offer them assistance when it came to the investigation aspect. Looking out the windows, we watched as several vehicles had been on scene and officers were searching for the suspect. Soon after, more shots were fired, shouts of “he’s trying to run” and soon enough, someone was handcuffed. 
“Wait, where is the body?!” Someone yells and a swarm of officers and other investigators gathered around to see if there was a victim. Sam and I took that as our queue to come on scene.
“Gentlemen, this is a closed scene” a voice said, turning to shoot us questioning looks.
“It’s okay, we’re from the FBI, I’m Agent Stan, this is my colleague Agent Lee,” I say flashing my fake badge, Sam following the lead.
“We didn’t call in the FBI,” another officer said.
“I’ll be honest, we were off duty and heard of the incident, wanted to see if we could help out.” I said, trying to ease the confusion.
“I’ll allow it,” one of the Sergeants on scene said, seeming to not care about the fight.
“So what’s happened? We’ve heard there’s been a string of homicides with no victims found?” Sam asked, pulling a notepad out of his pocket.
“Not a single one and this is abnormal for the city to have this many homicides in one year.” An officer, later introduced as Officer Hughes, explained the incident.
“Any leads on what is happening? Is any suspicious person found or any other activity that all the cases have had in common?” 
“Well we did find something in each case that relates them together in some bizarre way. Each case has the same call for service. Caller calls in, advises of gunshots, hears people arguing, we get on scene and only one person is found. Aside from the callers, just one person is found. We handcuff them just for safety precautions but the majority of the time, we end up letting them go. In all my years I’ve worked in law enforcement, I’ve never seen anything like this. No definite suspect, no found victims. So we can’t fully rule them as homicides either because there is nobody.” Officer Hughes said.
“Well we might be here for a little while then so we can help out,” Sam said, trying to add a helping hand.
“That won’t be necessary gentlemen, we have enough people on this,” Officer Hughes said, dismissing us as he got back to his vehicle. 
“Well that went well,” I said, sighing in exasperation.
“Come on, I bet if we head back to the police station, someone might be able to give us some information.” Sam said, settling into the passenger seat.
I grabbed a few supplies before I sat behind the wheel of my precious Baby and found the station was not too far from our motel. Pulling up, I find a parking space across the street from the building and Sam and I walk up the steps to the front doors of the station. It was the eerily morning hours, not too many people on the streets, the perfect time for people to commit crimes. Opening the large door, a young woman sat behind the desk, looking up at us when the door slammed behind us.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” She asks, eyes flitting between the two of us. 
“Uh yeah, I’m Agent Stan, this is Agent Lee, we’re with the FBI,” I say and we both flash our badges.  
“We were just on scene of the shooting by the Wayferer Motel and we weren’t able to get a lot of information. Do you think there’s anyone we can talk to about this?” Sam says, giving a small grim to the woman.
“Well given the fact that it's three in the morning, most people aren’t here and won’t be here until eight or so. Y’all might want to come back,” she says, looking back to her computer in front of her.
“Maybe you can help us. Do you know anything about the string of potential homicides that have been happening here lately?” I say, trying to turn on my charm as best as I could.
“No and even if I did, I’m not at liberty to discuss cases with anyone, even other law enforcement,” she says.
“Alright well, here’s my card, whenever someone is available, have them give me a call. You have a good rest of your morning,” I say, shooting the woman a wink.
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The next morning, we headed back to the station to see if there was anyone we could talk to. “Good morning gentlemen, how can we help you?” Another lady at the front desk said as we walked to the window. 
“Yeah we were here last night trying to see if we could talk to anyone about the shooting at the Wayfarer Motel.”
“Do you have any information about it?” The lady asked.
“No but we were on scene and we’re with the FBI,” Sam and I flashed our badges as soon as I said FBI.
“Let me call over to the detectives and see if we can’t find someone to come talk to y’all.” 
“Thank you,” Sam says and we both start looking at the displays hung around the lobby.
“Agents.” A male in a black polo shirt and khaki pants with a badge around his neck walks to us and shakes our hands.
“I’m Detective Parker, follow me,” he says, leading us through a door and taking him into a room with a table and some chairs.
“So y’all were on the scene last night?” Detective Parker asked us.
“Yes we were staying at the hotel and we’ve heard about some of the incidents where someone is shot but there’s no body’s left,” Sam explains.
Detective Parker sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It made no sense as to what happens to the bodies after they’re shot. We have no answers and our citizens are getting frustrated as to why their family members’ bodies are not there to bury or cremate them.”
“And that’s why we’re here. Tell us everything you do know,” I say. 
A few hours go by as we dive deep into the last weeks of the calls and cases from the City. I get up to go grab some coffee and stumble to an office where a bunch of ladies are sitting behind computers and answering phones. 
“Well hello ladies,” I smirk to the room of beautiful women.
“Who are you?” One of them pipes up and asks. 
“I’m Agent Stan of the FBI. I’m here helping with some of the shootings y’all have had here. Y’all know anything about those?” I ask.
“We heard about them but we don’t know anything. The guys don’t tell us anything, just what happened.” Another clerk said and she immediately caught my attention. She had long (y/h/c), bright (y/e/c) eyes, and she didn't bother looking at me much longer after that first comment. It seemed like she wasn’t impressed with me and that made me more intrigued by her.
“I see, is there anything you can tell me sweetheart?” I ask, trying to turn on my charm but again, she seemed unimpressed.
“That’s it now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to get back to,” she says, her tone harsh but I found it interesting. 
“Pardon me ma’am,” I say using my best Southern voice but the look of annoyance on her face proved she couldn’t care less.
Most of the time,  I can get away with some flirting with women, this one? She’ll be more of a challenge.”
“Agent Stan?” A voice called to me. I stand and follow him back to another room off set by the clerks area. 
“So, what kind of leads do you have, if any?” He asked, Sammy was  already in the room. 
“Well, we kind of have a few ideas but you wouldn’t believe us,” I said, shooting a pointed look to my younger brother. 
“Try me, I’ve been in this for a long time. I’ve heard just about everything,” the lead investigator on this and other shootings said. 
“We think it might be a series of soul eaters” I say.
“What now?” 
“Soul eaters, they are exactly what you think they are. Since all the bodies that have been killed here are basically hallowed out shells, we think there may be several around the area. Unfortunately, they are not easy to kill but we do know someone who can and can set the souls back to the bodies they were taken from,” I explained as rationally as I could but I knew it seemed crazy to those who were not used to hunting. 
“Well that is definitely something I didn't expect to hear but it also isn’t the most out there answer I’ve heard either.”
“Alright, well let us call our guy and see what he says about it.” I say, giving a pointed look to the detective, wondering what other crazy things he’s seen but deciding not to ask. 
I grab my phone out of my pocket and scroll down my contact until it stops on the name. I hate asking this guy for help but he’s our only source for this case so I push back my personal feelings and press the call button. 
“Hello Dean,” his accented voice, full of entitlement, rang through my ear.”
“Ketch, we need your help,” I say.
“Well hello to you too,” he says and I can just hear the dumb grin on  his face.
“Yeah hi, listen we’re out here in North Texas and we’re helping the local police on a case we think you may have experience in,” I say, getting straight to the point.
“Oh, where in Texas are you? My daughter happens to be out there and she works at a police department,” he says.
“Since when did you have a kid?” I ask.
“Oh, never mind that. Where am I going?”
“Wichita Falls.”
“That’s where my daughter lives!” 
Oh crap, so Ketch’s offspring works at the police department here? Awesome.                                                                                                                  
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A few hours later and we’re back at the scene of the crime. Ketch wanted the low down on what we’ve discovered up to this point so we decided to meet at the scene and go over what we know.
“So the bodies are never found?” Ketch asks.
“Nope they’re completely gone. Nothing is left behind but there’s always signs of some form of homicide,” Sam explains.
“And you lads are thinking its,” he trails off until I pipe in with our research.
“Soul eaters, except they’ve evolved so much over the years, they’re not just taking souls anymore.”
“Interesting, well you called the right person then,” Ketch says, standing up and heading to his car.
“So?  What does that mean?” I say, Sammy and I quickly follow him. 
“It means that I’ve seen it once before,” he said, Sam and I catching up with him. 
“You have?” Sam asked.
“A long time ago, yes. It was a rather tragic event for the families but we were able to get the bodies back.”
“How?” I ask.
“Well it won't be easy but we have to…make a sacrifice of sorts,” he says, making his way back to his car. “Follow me back to the station and I’ll go over the details with detectives.” 
We jump inside Baby and speed down the highway, much like Ketch had left. When we finally pulled back to the station, it was nearing five o’clock and a lot of the employees had been leaving for the day.
“Dad!” A female voice says, bounding over to Ketch and wrapping her arms around him.” 
“(Y/N)!” he says, turning to the girl I noticed in the criminal investigation section earlier; no.
“Gents, I’d like for you to meet my daughter, (Y//N), (Y/N) this is Sam and Dean. They are friends of mine.”
“Oh the Winchesters? I thought you didn't like them?” She says and I chuckle; I like this girl.
“Well not at first, no, but we’ve all come to an agreement of sorts.”
“So, you’re Ketch’s daughter,” I say, looking at the woman.
“Not by blood. He adopted me when I was a kid. My bio parents died in a hunting accident when I was six and Ketch happened to be there, so he took me in,” she says.
“Well, we’re glad you’re here, (Y/N),” Sam says, reaching to shake her hand; I just nod at her.
I couldn’t believe it, even for a minute, I thought a girl related to Ketch was beautiful. 
As our investigation went on, so did the opportunities for (Y/N) to show up unannounced, or so it seemed. Like, I thought she had a job at the department, but somehow she always ended up there, along with her Dad, to help assist us in our investigation. Not that I really minded her company but it was a little…odd.
“Don't you have something better to do?” I ask her as she’s going through some paperwork from the shooting.
She stopped flipping through the pages halfway between the pile and looked up to meet my gaze. “I’m helping on this case, y’all need some help sometimes, right?” 
“Well yes but I thought you had another job to do?” I ask. 
“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me around Winchester,” she says, now more frustrated with me.
“I don’t care what you do,” I say, trying to play off how I was feeling underneath the surface. To be honest, I did care what she did. I barely know the girl but she’s getting under my skin and inside my head. What the hell is happening here I have no idea but all I know is I like being around her.
“Well clearly you do otherwise you wouldn’t be asking,” she says, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way.
Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought to myself so I did the best thing I knew to do; I walked away. I don’t know what my problem was but this had to stop. I couldn’t like Ketch’s daughter, her father is literally the biggest douche I’ve ever met so no way could I get involved with her. But the way she moved when she walked, swaying in the slightest way, her head held high like she owned the place. She didn’t  look a thing like her Dad but there was more to her than that. She had that long (y/h/c) that flowed past her shoulders and down her back. It was just a little wavy and seemed to have more than one color in it but it suited her well. And those big beautiful (y/e/c) and a perfect smile to match. In just the few short days we were working this case, she has taken over every thought of mine so naturally, I didn’t like her. 
“Dean, are you ready to go?!” Sam yells to me from the other room.
“Yeah,” I called back and grabbed my gear before meeting up with Sam, Ketch and (y/n). “What is she doing here?” 
“She is here to help. Believe it or not gents, she does know about this life and has helped me out more than a time or two,” Ketch explained. 
“As long as she stays out of the way,” I say, throwing a duffle bag into the trunk before making my way to the front. I could hear her huff in annoyance but I could care less. 
We drove around town for a while, trying to find the supplies we were going to need for our “sacrifice” before we headed back to the motel where the last body was supposed to be. Gathering everything together, we followed Ketch’s instructions and then it was time for the dreaded part. 
“So what exactly do we need to sacrifice?” Sam asks. 
“Well, that’s where it can be rather difficult. We don’t need an entire person or thing to sacrifice, but we need the blood of the pure of heart,” Ketch explains.
“Who would that be?” I ask before following his eyes over to his daughter. Her face turned a bit pale, knowing her blood was going to be nearly drained from her body but she didn't hesitate. 
“Tell me what I have to do,” she says.
“I know this won't be easy for you darling, but I will be right here the entire time,” Ketch says, attempting to comfort his child. 
“Dad, I’m not a child, I can do this,” she says.
“I know but you are my child, my only child for that matter and I worry about you,” he says.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve put myself in a little bit of a difficult place for helping you out and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” (Y/N) says. 
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredible for doing this and doing it more than just one time. I’m not saying I care about (y/n) or anything but this is going to be a risky task. She’s going to need to give a generous amount of blood for this sacrifice and to see she’s okay with going in without a second thought; it's admirable. It was almost as if we were in a hospital; we had a needle hooked up into her arm and tube after tube of blood was being drawn from her. I could tell it was making Ketch uncomfortable because it was his child, whether biologically or not, so I escorted him out of the room. 
“Here, let’s go get a beer or something,” I say, clapping my hand on his shoulder and walking out. 
“I’m sorry Dean, I just couldn't stand to see that much blood coming from my daughter,” Ketch says, sighing in defeat as we sat across one another at the map table in the Bunker. 
“Hey, there’s no need to apologize. I’m worried about her, too,” I say. 
A moment of silence passed between us before Ketch spoke again. “You care for her don’t you?” 
“What? No, I don’t care for her!” I say, suddenly becoming defensive.  
“You do; I can see it on your face. I’ve had the same look before and it does not go away so easily,” he says, frowning and dropping his eyes to the floor. 
“Okay so what if I do? Is that so bad?” I ask. 
“No it's not, but since this is my daughter we’re talking about, it does make a bit of difference.”
“Look Ketch, I would never hurt her,” I say, trying to explain what I hope I can do for his child. 
“I know you wouldn’t, Dean. In fact, I’m not worried about her dating you, if that is what she wants. I am worried about this life; hunting. She has had some exposure to it but I try to shelter from it most of the time. If she’s around you, I’m afraid someone or something will get to her and there would be no point for my life to continue at that point.” Ketch was being really vulnerable and I was surprised to say the least, but I respected it. Sure, we had our issues trusting him in the past but this is his kid and right now, she is all that matters.
“Dad?” A groggy voice calls to the room. 
“Hey kiddo, your  Dad went to get you some supplies for when you woke up. We all became worried when you went whiter than a sheet but we managed to get you back. You’ve been sleeping for the last few hours cause you did lose a lot of blood but we’ve monitored you,” I saw, looking down at the young girl on the bed in front of me. 
“So did you get enough blood for the spell?” She asks. 
“That is nothing you need to worry about. We need you to get back on your feet,” I tell her. 
“But you don't need anymore blood?”  I chuckle at her, not being able to believe she’s been so concerned with this, but it makes sense. 
“No, we don’t need any more blood.” She takes a giant sigh of relief and slumps back into her bed. I smile as I watch her for a moment before I get called. 
“Hey Dean, we need your help out here,” Sam calls to me and just as I was about to tell (y/n) I notice she had fallen asleep. 
“Okay,” I call back and look down at the young Men of Letters’ daughter and lean down to press my lips on her forehead.
“What do we got?” I say, walking into the main room where the map table sat.
“We have the ingredients for the spell,” Sam says, adding everything together in what looked like a witches cauldron and an ominous purplish hue shown from it. We head out to the coroner's office and find one of the bodies that had their souls taken out and we tip the head back and pour the liquid down the throat. From the esophagus, we could see the hue shining from under the skin and soon, another blinding light encapsulated the room. 
“How do you know if it worked?” I say, looking down to the body that seemed no different than a few moments before.  
Cass places his hand on the body’s forehead and his eyes closed. He seemed a bit bothered by something but then his expression softened and he opened his eyes again. 
“The soul is in there; I’m positive.” He says. 
 For the rest of the bodies that turned up recently without a soul, we were able to restore each one and bring some closure to the families of the victims. We contacted the families and had them come and see the newness of the bodies of their loved ones. Most people would be against this but because these bodies had been violated, family members wanted to make sure they’re loved ones were being honored as best they could. 
“Thank you for restoring my Russell,” a lady said, leaning over to kiss her deceased husband. No one could say a word but a curt nod was all that could be mustered from any of us. This is part of cases we don't get to see. We meet family but we rarely get to see much happiness after the person is gone. Who knew a soul returning to a body could do such a thing?
Back at the Bunker, I go back to check in on Y/N. She was sleeping and I couldn’t help but watch the sore and almost voided women below me. She seemed less pale then when we first got her out of the process of taking her blood for the spell but she still seemed..hollowed in some places. Like her eyes, they were pushed back into her face and her arms and legs seemed as though they didn't have any muscle. How much of her blood did we take? 
“Hey you,” she whispers, her eyes slowly moving to look up at me. I couldn’t speak and wanted so badly to kiss her but the way her eyes suddenly changed, I knew something was off. 
“You get the hell away from her,” I say, leaning away from who I thought was (y/n) but I know better. 
“Aw Dean, why can't we be friends or more since you seem to be in love with (y/n)?” I knew the voice well and just as I thought, (y/n)’s face morphed into him.
“You’re a real bag of dicks, you know that?” I say.
“Yes Dean, I’m aware of how you feel about me and I can’t believe you let this kid distract you from dealing with Daddy dearest,” 
I hold back from killing The Trickster here and now and give him an opportunity to explain himself, against my better judgment. 
“Well good ol’ Dad decided to send me to try and get you back on track. To bring something close to you to just take it away again. 
“What the hell did you do to her?” I say, growing more and more irate. 
“Oh relax, she’s fine, she’s just…tied up at the moment.” he says. 
“I swear to God I will kill you if you hurt her,” 
“Really? I think I can rearrange that since he’s my Father and all,” he says and freezes when I beg for her life again. 
“Please, don’t hurt her. She’s all Ketch has anymore.”
“Yes but you don't like him either so why does it matter what happens to (y/n)?”
“Because we all need her on our team; she’s vital to helping solve cases.”
“Are you sure it isn't more than that?” A third voice says, coming into view. 
“What the hell are you doing here?”
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 “Dean?” A small voice rang out into the silence that had surrounded me in the room. I don’t know how I ended up here but I do know, it wasn’t easy. 
“Hey kiddo, you’re okay, it’s all over,” I say, looking over to her. She was much better now, away from the pain of blood being drained from her body, no longer in fear of who may be lurking around the corner. 
“What do you mean?” She asks. 
“Chuck, he's gone. Dead actually.” I say, still not fully believing it myself. 
“You killed God?” She asks, a look of disbelief playing across her delicate features
“Well, not exactly. We killed the vessel Chuck but God himself, he swore he would leave the Earth and not bother Sam or I or anyone we love ever again.
“Oh, so, he can still come back though?”
“No, he can’t. Because I….” My words fade from my vocal cords and I cannot process any thought rushing through my mind at a million miles a second. This was it, this was why I did what I did. Her. She is the reason why Chuck is dead and God is permanently leaving us alone. 
“I love you. I know it hasn’t been too long since you’ve been around us or me but I can’t help it. I love you and I want you to know that you are the reason God will leave us alone. If it wasn’t for you, we probably would still be fighting him and there wouldn’t be any peace….we’re free. Sam and I are free after all this time. We finally get to relax and be free to fight for people without having to look over our shoulders everywhere we go because I love you and he will leave us alone now because you are someone I love and….I’m free.” And for the first time in I don’t know how many years, I cried. Not just a small cry, a complete breakdown level of a cry. I guess I had years of pent up agony of having to fight and defend those whom I’ve loved finally come to a boiling point. (Y/N) did the one thing I needed in that moment, something I’ve lacked for many years; affection. She wrapped her arms around me, as tightly as she could, and held me close to her as sobs racked through my entire body. I began to shake violently and all she did was bring me in closer, run her fingers through my hair, and continuously try and shush me in that sweet, comforting way Mom’s do. I’m not sure how long we sat like that but we did until I was silent again. I slowly look up at her, through the tears still sitting in my eyes, and she runs her thumb right under my eye. 
“You okay?” She asks, looking at me in a concerning fashion. 
“I think so,” my voice was no higher than a whisper because I couldn’t trust myself. I surprised myself with the fact I cried as much as I did but I felt better. 
“I love you too,” she says suddenly. 
“You do?” I say, disbelief prominent on my face. 
“I know it isn't long either, but I do have some pull to you and I cannot deny it. You are the only reason I’m here. I love my Dad, I really do but you are the one who I get up for day and day again. You are the one who protects me like no other. You are the one I want to keep giving blood away for whatever spells or anything else you need. I love your smile, your eyes, your laugh, the way you grumble about anything and everything because you’re getting older but it just melts my heart and I’ve never felt this for anyone.”
It may have seemed like a rather chick flick movie thing for me to do, and believe me, I kicked myself for it, but I couldn’t help it; I had to kiss her. Because for once, someone loved me and there was no way I was going to lose her. Well, aside from the traditional ways of losing someone but there wouldn’t be a douche who tries to take her away, which is way better anyways. Her lips felt so soft and natural when she kissed me and all I wanted to do was kiss her from now on. Who am I turning into? Maybe I’m finally able to learn what its like to care about someone and have someone care for me when in the past, we would have never gotten together or even thought about it but things with Ketch have been different and he hasn’t been after us too much since Chuck started. Now, I somehow ended up falling for his daughter. 
“Oh, shit, damn it,” I say, pulling back from our kiss.
“What’s wrong?” She says. “I’m sure you’ve done this before,” she jokes. 
“No, I mean yes of course but, you.” I say. 
“Me?” 
“You’re Ketch’s daughter.”
“We’ll he’s my adopted Dad,” she comments. 
“Yeah but he still raised you. What is he going to think of this, of us?” I say, motioning between us. 
“He won’t care.”
“Are you sure? I mean we've been fighting with him for years and we just got him on our side.” 
“Dean, you’re overreacting. He just wants my happiness. He’s just going to have to deal with it being with you,” she says.
“Fine, then I say we need to tell him and everyone else about us before anything else happens between us.”
She suddenly gets up from where we were sitting in the common room and I jump up to follow her.  
“Where are we going?” I say when I catch up with her. 
“To tell my Dad.”
“Really?” I ask, not believing she wants to do this now but she stops and grabs my face and kisses me, for a long time. 
“Really,” She says after she lets me breathe again.
I follow her into the other room where we see Sam and Ketch at the map table, Sam with a book in his hands and Ketch scrolling through his phone.
“Dad?” (Y/N) says when we are in hearing distance.
“Yeah sweetheart?” Ketch responds, looking up from his phone.
“I’m in love with Dean,” she says with such ease, it brings a smile to my face.
“Oh I know,” he says and goes back to his phone.
“Wait, you know? How?” I ask.
“Because, I see the way you look at her, Dean. And (y/n), I heard you talking to Sam about it.”
“Wait, Sammy, you knew how she felt about me?”
“Yes,”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“She asked me not to,” he says.
“So you’re okay with this?” (Y/N) asks Ketch. 
“If he makes you happy, then I’m okay with it.” 
“But you hurt her Dean and I swear,” Ketch threatens me. 
“Don’t worry man, I couldn’t hurt her. She’s the best thing that ever came out of a perfect storm.” 
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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year
Text
Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)
A/N: I tried to make it emotional and I feel like I failed am I incapable of being nice to my characters now?? -Danny
Words: 2,019
Phase Five Masterlist
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
Listen to: ‘We Might As Well Be Strangers’ -by Keane
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xxxiv: The Scarlet Witch
Cat had been walking for an hour when the mist dispersed: a stone castle rose into existence.
It looked old, and it fitted the scenery perfectly. That alone was enough confirmation to know Wanda was alive, Kate had never mentioned a castle being there.
"Wanda!" She called.
The massive front door opened and Cat walked in, even if this was frightening, it wasn't as scary as the things she'd left behind. She looked around, the chamber had a high roof and there was a lit chandelier in the middle, but no one was there.
"Oh God, I'm in a horror movie..."
"Good news is you can be the monster or the final girl," said a voice ahead.
Wanda was standing at the end of the hall across the room, tense, but she didn't sound passive-aggressive, so the mutant didn't know how to react. "I think I'd rather be girl number three at the coffee shop."
Before Cat could apologize for everything she'd done, Wanda rushed up to her and enveloped her in a hug. She would've warmed her about the inhibitor, but there was a strange air all over the redhead that she couldn't quite place, and it distracted her.
"Hi," she said clumsily.
"I've been wondering when you'd show up," Wanda cupped her face, she was all serious.
"You— what?"
The collar went off and Cat cried out, falling out of Wanda's grip... and through Wanda. Confused and in pain, she rolled over and stared at the projection.
"Am I dead?" She gasped.
Wanda looked down at her with a guilty smile. "Sorry. I'm astral projecting, that's why I didn't get electrocuted. Why are you wearing that?"
"It's not a fashion statement," Cat sat up with difficulty. "I'm in trouble."
The girl looked at her with interest. "Come with me, I'm in the library."
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The real Wanda was floating in the middle of the room, Cat stared at her in awe.
"You've been practicing!"
"Oh, you have no idea," Wanda said, then floated down and opened her eyes, landing back on the ground gently. "I made mistakes in the process— I'm not proud of it."
"I get it," Cat smiled at her awkwardly. "My list is as big as your castle— the latest was killing Spider-man."
"Oh, you guys broke up on bad terms?"
Cat's eyes lit up. "What do you remember about me and Spidey?"
"I remember Pietro telling me you were dating," Wanda frowned. "He was the only thing you'd talk about back when we lived at the compound."
"Yeah... well, I've had a rough couple of years. Wanna catch up?"
"How much time do you have?" Wanda looked down at the collar.
"About a day and a half."
"I'll make us drinks."
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"I don't understand why I froze. I might've been faster than Kraven but... I couldn't do it. I thought 'not again' but I don't even know what I meant by that! I need to get my memory restored so Edith works, it's the only thing that'll help."
"Okay," Wanda replied, finishing her drink.
Cat looked up at her. "You'll do it?"
"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about our past, and then some more to grieve what happened after..."
"Really?"
"I see one difference between you and me, C. The moment you prioritized your happiness, you sealed your fate. You've felt alone, but you've never been, you realize that now?"
"My killing list wouldn't be this long otherwise, right?"
"Then there's me," Wanda was absently making her glass twirl in the air. "Prioritizing my powers..."
"You can't compare yourself to me, we've been walking this road parallelly for ages. In any case, no hero's ever lived an unproblematic life, so it's not like we could've skipped over our bad moments."
Wanda looked at her smiling. "How old are you, Copy?"
"Twenty-five... I think. My birthday was at some point last month, but I was busy trying not to die, so I'm not sure when it happened."
"I still can't believe you're older than me now," she chuckled. "But you sure sound like it."
Cat sighed. "Nothing good came from growing up. I longed for a life in the real world... and this is what I got."
"No use to carry all that bitterness to your death..." Wanda finally forgot about her glass and looked at her. "Are you sure you want to carry on with your plan?"
Cat supported her chin in one hand and gazed a the witch. "It's the only way my friends will have fewer worries. I've had enough life, anyway."
"But what if you die and nothing changes?"
She shrugged. "I won't be here to see it."
Wanda got up and she did the same, the redhead guided her to the next room, a wide sitting area with wide windows looking out at the snowy scenery.
"You might see bad things... things that were better off in oblivion."
"I already remember plenty of ugly things. I can handle it."
Wanda pointed at the larger couch. "Lay down." The girl sat in front of her. "Close your eyes and think of when Strange erased your memory—"
"According to Webs, it was right at the end of December— no, November. But it was snowing already..." Cat continued to speak but heard less and less, and instead saw what she was describing.
The statue of liberty, the broken scaffolding... time started going backward. Spider-man said they'd met before... she looked at all the familiar faces until one person stood out: A boy, nose buried in a chemistry book, she could barely see his mop of brown curls and the upper brim of his thick glasses.
There was a time-skip, and Cat was standing in front of a boy much taller and bigger than her, and behind them, there was a boy, so small and scrawny, he had his back turned... his books were scattered all over the pavement... Cat approached him, she knelt in from of him...
"What's your name?" She was reaching out to help him stand.
"Peter..." The image glitched, but Cat held onto his hand tighter until it stopped."Parker."
Cat started to see him with new eyes, he was taller, she found him sweet-looking... Peter was everywhere. He was more than just a friend, she'd built her life around him.
Then another face showed up, but it was still him... Parker. She remember their weekend together, and the beeper she'd given him...
Cat's eyes snapped open, five minutes had passed, but she'd witnessed a whole decade through her mind's eyes, and she felt like she'd just gone back from months of being away. Wanda carefully sat beside her, pushing a few locks of hair away from her face.
"That was easy."
Cat blinked rapidly. "My god... am I crying?" She cleaned her face in disgust. "That's embarrassing."
Wanda laughed. "Same old C.C."
Cat hugged her, but it was brief, she was once again aware of her collar. "I owe you so much... if this works—"
"You'll die," Wanda concluded. "You shouldn't thank me. Your friends will hate me for this."
"You're saving more lives than you think... they'll understand."
"Not really... but I'm glad to see you're still you."
"You think so?" Cat looked at her hands. "I've lost so much heart along the way..."
"It got lost, yes," Wanda held one of her hands. "But I saw your mind, your goodness carried you forward, and you can get your heart back if you make things right."
"Just like May said," Cat smiled, beyond happy when she felt her memories coming to her with ease.
"Now..." Wanda grazed the inhibitor with her fingertips. "I could get rid of this if you want."
"Can you do it without turning off the GPS?"
"I'm not sure."
"I'll stick to my original plan, then. Save Kurt, and then... whatever happens after that, I don't care."
"Which reminds me!" Wanda stepped away. "You need a head, right?"
Cat's eyes brightened. "You can make me one?"
"Better yet!" Wanda did a couple of graceful hand movements and a head materialized before Cat. One moment it was rotten, the other it looked fresh and just like Kate.
"Holy shit!"
"Not pretty, but these hikers are everywhere, they were already dead when I got here, by the way, don't worry."
"This is amazing— thank you so much!" Cat grabbed her satchel and stuffed the head inside. She remembered what she'd brought with her and stopped.
Wanda looked at her with amusement, even if she was two years younger than the mutant she still felt like Cat was the kid sometimes. "I feel like I should go with you..."
"No. They could try to hurt you or catch you. Sergei is a good tracker, I fear."
"He's never tried to catch the Scarlet witch."
"Maybe not... but I still think it's better if you stay."
Wanda sighed. "If you survive please do visit me from time to time, I'm not as popular as you are, and most people prefer to stay away from me."
"If I survive you'll have me here every weekend," Cat then remembered Kate had asked her to move out with her and stopped smiling. "Hey, before I leave... I brought this for you... it's worn out and old, but I thought you might like to have it..."
Cat pulled Pietro's old jacket from the satchel and offered it to Wanda.
"I always felt like he was watching over me whenever I wore it, so that's why I didn't throw it out... you should have it. I'm sorry it's nothing useful, I don't have money to spare, and I didn't have time to grab some pictures before leaving."
Wanda held the jacket tenderly, she was looking at her brother through the piece of clothing, and in the blink of an eye, she restored it. Good as new. She put it on. "Thank you, Copy. I think we're even."
Cat got to her feet. "I should go, Kate and..." she stopped, feeling weird now that she remembered Spider-man's name. "Kate and Webs are waiting for me, they're probably freezing to death."
"More hikers for me," Wanda joked, then she got up and looked at Cat in a motherly manner. "Think this through... I know you feel like this is the only solution... but there are many paths sprouting out with every step you take, and they're all as likely as the next."
"I've taken them all except death," Cat said with a smile. "I'm starting to get real curious about it."
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This time she was able to teleport back to her friends. Kate and Peter (wearing the mask) rushed toward her, and she moved out of their way before they could hug her.
"Kate, can you wait inside the car for a moment?" Cat requested politely.
The girl looked at her with curiosity. "Wanda did it?"
"I'm about to find out," she looked at Spider-man. "But you definitely got taller."
Peter tried to stop himself from sounding too happy. "Yeah well, I'm no longer a teenager."
Kate left them alone, she also put the scarf over her eyes for good measure. Peter drew out from his pocket the little plastic square he'd brought along, the one he claimed had "their life" and that she now remembered clear as day. It was the present he'd given her on their first Valentine's day.
She saw their moments together: the first birthday and the last, the one where she'd gotten her face smeared with icing from a cupcake Ned, MJ and Peter had bought for her. There were also pictures from Pietro's graduation party, and from their visits to Stark Expo, the first time Peter drove them to school...
"My God... you were right— we were so happy," she said tearfully. "I can't believe I forgot... my happiest time..."
"I'm so sorry, C..." he was looking at her.
"You had to do it, to save everyone," she beamed at him. "Can I look at you now?"
His hand moved up to the edge of his mask: First, she saw his mouth, then the nose, then they locked eyes. He was exactly as she remembered him, and yet something entirely different.
A twenty-year-old Peter Parker smiled at her, eyes teary, shaking lightly thanks to the cold, but so happy she felt her own smile growing at the sight.
"You listened to me," she approached and cupped his face. "Told you you'd grow into your looks, Pete."
The young man laughed, he was crying. "It's so good to see you, C.C."
Their foreheads touched, and without caring about the collar, Cat wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as tightly as she could.
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Next Chapter—>
Taglist.
@mikaelsonwhxrebae​​ @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​ @greengarsstuff​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​ @espressopatronum454​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch
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apocalypseornaw · 2 years
Text
Come Home
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Follow up to Memory
Weeks after Dean calls you assume he decided to move on. That is until he walks into the bar you decided to go to after a hunt.
Warnings: NSFW stuff happens
"Can I buy you a drink?" You glanced up at the man that the voice belonged to. He was good looking enough and seemed friendly but even if you had been in the mood for company he wasn't who you wanted.  "This is my first and only. Just needed a little something after a long day. Sorry" he nodded with a slight smile "No need to apologize ma'am. I hope your night gets better"
He ordered a drink and sat down leaving one stool between the two of you. "You from around here?" You asked and he cut his eyes at you "Can't say I am. Was passing through and considering there's three motels within walking distance of here seemed like as good of a place to crash as any" you nodded approvingly "Passing through?" He cracked a half smile "Headed back home. I was helping my little sister move to a new place" 
"She's lucky to have someone to help" you replied absent-mindedly, swirling the ice in your cup. You noticed him glance your way twice before he motioned to the dark bruise already forming across your left cheek "Bar fight?" You almost laughed at the assumption before answering "Not quite. Work related hazard" that made him raise an eyebrow "What do you do if you don't mind me asking?"
You laughed lightly "I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you" the smile that spread across his face was almost enough to make you reconsider that drink. "Well I mean dying at your hand doesn't seem so bad an option" damn he was flirting like hell. You rolled your eyes but let an easy smile slip onto your face before you could reply though you heard a voice say "Hey buddy. I need to talk to my girl"
You could feel your heart threatening to stop at the familiar voice that hadn't graced your ears since the night he called drunk weeks before and even more so when you looked up to meet those candy apple green eyes that for months had simply been a ghost in your memories "Excuse me?" You asked Dean, ignoring the guy you'd been talking to. He held your gaze even as he said "Keep moving man. She's taken" 
"Like hell I am" you scoffed and you had to give it to the guy considering you knew what Dean was capable of in a fight he looked between you and Dean as he asked "Is he bothering you? I mean you don't really seem too happy to see him" Dean cut his eyes at you and God help your traitor of a heart it flipped seeing the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips so you sighed in defeat "He's an old friend that's just a bit on the brash side"
You didn't take your eyes off Dean as you laid a ten down for your drink then told the guy goodnight. You turned to walk out the bar not having to look back to know Dean was right behind you.
—-------
The moment you stepped into the cool night air you spun around to face Dean "What the fuck was that?" He shrugged one shoulder "He wasn't your type sweetheart" 
You laughed humorlessly stepping closer to him "Then tell me Dean what is my type? Because last time I checked you broke up with me, not the other way around. Then you called me in the middle of the night to drunkenly say that you loved me and missed me then never called again.Matter of fact, how the hell out of every back road bar did you end up walking into the very one I'm sitting in?" He tilted his head slightly and that was when it hit you "You bastard! You had Sam track my phone!"
He took a step towards you which made you step backwards cursing under your breath when your back hit one of the pillars outside the bar effectively blocking yourself in. He stepped close enough his chest brushed against yours "I made a mistake walking away from us even if my intentions were to protect you. When I called you I was a mess to put it short. I couldn't try to get you back like that.I love you just as much now as I ever have but if you can look me in the eye right here, right now and tell me you don't want me anymore I'll walk back over to the motel, get in baby and go home"
You swallowed hard trying to look anywhere but directly at him. "Dean you apparently don't want me" you bit back in an attempt to hold onto the anger of a broken heart. He nodded raising one hand to tentatively touch your face fingertips barely grazing your bruise when you didn't move away "Give me tonight Y/N and if you think I don't love you with everything I have come morning I'll walk away and never bother you again" you gave yourself a moment to lean into his touch "I know you love me Dean. That's never been the problem"
He leaned down closer to you leaving just a breath between your lips "Please come home. I've been a fucking idiot" instead of saying anything you gave into what your heart desperately screamed for. When you closed the space between you crashing your lips against his he seemed a bit surprised at first but that quickly wore off. One hand went to your hip the other holding your face in place as he deepened the kiss running his tongue against your bottom lip asking for access and when your lips parted he slipped it into your mouth rolling it against yours in a way that made your knees weaken.
When he pulled away to let you catch your breath he turned his attention to your neck kissing the skin there before gently biting down on your pulse point pulling a low moan from your lips "Dean" You tried weakly having to swallow twice before managing again "Dean. Stop" he froze the moment the words left your mouth pulling back to look at your face, his eyes wide in worry "What's wrong? Am I moving too fast after this long?"
You shook your head "No no no. It's just i've got a room about thirty feet away"  he smiled resting his forehead against yours "That mean you're coming home with me?" You shrugged one shoulder playfully teasing "Guess we'll see come morning"
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You walked into your room feeling Dean's hands slide around your waist the moment the door shut behind him. He pulled you back against his chest letting his lips lazily drag along your neck "I've missed you" he whispered against your skin.
You looked over your shoulder at him with a small smile "I've missed you too" you turned to face him pulling him down into a kiss "Show me how much you've missed me?" You asked against his lips and he smiled "Thought you'd never ask"
You both slipped your jackets off before you grabbed his hand pulling him along with you to bed kicking your boots off along the way "I honestly thought you simply regretted calling me that night" you admitted turning to push him down on the side of the bed. The look in his eyes when he looked up at you made your heart flip "I wanted to be worth coming home to"
You slowly climbed onto the bed straddling his lap as you did so "You were always worth coming home to Dean" he leaned forward placing a trail of kisses across your collarbone "I was afraid you'd moved on…seeing you talking to that guy.." 
You reached for the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. Once you tossed it to the floor you looked back at him letting your lips trail over his throat "I've been yours Dean. No one could come close to you" he groaned, gripping your hips tight enough you could feel his body reacting "Can we talk more later?" He asked and you nodded "Please just touch me Dean"
He flipped the both of you over so he was now hovering over you supporting his weight on his arms "Don't have to ask me twice" he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him.
He met your lips with a lingering kiss that made every inch of your body feel as if it was on fire. He kissed across your jaw then down your neck kissing and gently biting the skin there knowing everything you loved. 
When he got to your chest he rolled the nipple of your left breast between his teeth while cupping the other with one large hand. A low moan of his name fell from your lips "Fuck Dean" he smiled against you turning his lips to the other breast giving it the same attention. 
He pulled back to look up at you through thick eyelashes "Darling you don't know what it does to me hearing you say my name like that" he continued down your body leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and even nipping at places he knew was sensitive.
Your hips bucked up off the bed when he got to the hem of your jeans "I'm gonna take care of you sweetheart just lay back and let me love on you" he kept his eyes on yours as he unbuttoned your jeans. You lifted your hips to help him shimmy them down your legs.
Once you were completely bare he licked his lips letting his eyes trail up your body. He started at your left ankle kissing his way up until he was just shy of where you needed him "You've always been hell with the teasing" you whined pulling a laugh from him as he turned to your right leg "You've always enjoyed my teasing too"
"I need you Dean" You weren't above begging and the dark look that passed through his eyes was almost enough to make you come undone "You've got me baby" he murmured spreading you open with two fingers before plunging his tongue into you. "Fuck" you moaned tangling your fingers into his hair.
He chuckled against you the vibrations rumbling straight through your core as he sucked your clit into his mouth working his tongue over the sensitive bud expertly.  When he added one finger then another keeping them in pace with his tongue you felt that building pressure inside of you threaten to burst. You barely got out "Fuck I'm close" before he shifted his mouth just enough that pleasure burst through you softening your vision at the edges.
You closed your eyes tight as he worked you through the orgasm. When you became too sensitive you weakly pushed at his head "Too much baby..too much" 
He smirked up at you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand "Still taste fucking amazing Y/N" You laughed lightly curling a finger at him "Come here" he climbed his way up your body capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss that allowed you to taste yourself on his lips.
—---
You could feel him hard against your thigh even through the jeans he still wore "How about taking these jeans off Winchester?" You asked, pulling back from his lips. He grinned "I think I can manage that"
He stood off the bed long enough to push his jeans down his legs. You felt your mouth water at the sight of him "Can i please return the favor" he stroked his hardened cock slowly before shaking his head slightly "Any other time I'd love to feel your mouth on me but I may die here and now if I don't get inside of you soon"
"Wouldn't want that" you teased as he climbed back onto the bed positioning himself between your legs. You could feel yourself clench in anticipation. He leant down to capture your lips in a kiss that wasn't as urgent but full of so much emotion as if he was putting the months apart into that kiss "I love you" he spoke against your lips as he slowly pushed inside of you pulling a moan from you both. 
You were overwhelmed for a moment from the size of him. It had been so long that the stretch was borderline painful. It didn't take long for that pain to dissolve into pleasure. "I love you too" you finally managed, pushing on his shoulders as a sign for him to move.
He rolled his hips against yours hitting that sensitive spot deep inside of you forcing your eyes to roll back slightly. A string of curses mixed in with his name fell from your lips as your nails bit into his back carving out your pleasure. He shifted his hips just enough you felt another orgasm begin to build "Dean I'm so close" you whimpered and he nodded head falling forward against your chest "Come on Y/N. Let me feel you come around me darling"
He started to move harder hips rolling forward to push even deeper inside of you. "Feel that pretty little pussy squeezing me. You're so fucking perfect, so perfect" he praised and that was enough to push you over the edge. 
He fucked you through your orgasm continuing to praise how beautiful you were and how amazing you felt. Once you came down from that high you started to lift your hips to meet his "Please come for me Dean. Fuck I've missed you so much baby. Come inside of me. Let me feel you"
His hips began to falter slightly and you knew he was close. When he shifted his weight to pin you further into the mattress you cried out in pleasure feeling yet another orgasm build "Come for me Dean" You begged and his thrusts got sloppy and you felt his hips shudder right as he came the warm burst of him deep inside of you pushing you over the edge for the third time. 
He thrusted a few more times sloppily before pulling out and collapsing onto the mattress next to you.  Once you both had your breathing back to normal he stood to walk to the bathroom coming back with a warm rag to clean you up. You whimpered when he swiped across the sensitive area which just pulled a smirk onto his lips.
—---
He tossed the rag into the trash citing no one would want it anyways before climbing back into the bed and pulled you against his chest. 
You snuggled against him, fingers reaching out to trace his tattoo as his fingers did the same to your tattoo that adorned your shoulder.  "You're coming home right?" He asked and sounded so unsure in that moment it made your heart hurt..you turned just enough to be able to look him in the eye "As long as you promise to talk to me from here on out. Have faith in us and remember I can protect myself, not only that we're both better off and more focused at each other sides" 
He nodded "I know that sweetheart. I got scared before but I've had to live without you and honestly? I can't fucking do it anymore so are you coming home with me Y/N? Are you giving me another chance?" you smiled slightly leaning up to brush a gentle kiss to his lips "Yes I'm coming home Dean. I've always known we're better at each other's sides. There's nowhere else I'd rather be" "Good because there's no one else I'd ever want at my side" 
"I love you Dean" You whispered with a yawn. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before saying "I love you too Y/N"
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hwangsies · 2 years
Text
whats wrong?“ minho whispers, one hand on your waist before moving it up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
His warm breath gently fans across your face and you look at him lying right infront of you, both of you on your sides, facing each other.
„nothing“ you press your lips together in a tight smile when his hand settles back on your waist, almost instinctively you suck in your stomach but you aren’t quick enough, he notices and furrows his brows as he looks down to where his hand rests on your exposed waist, your tshirt having ridden up.
„is that your answer for everything?“ he cocks up a brow teasingly, he noticed you acting weird around him since you‘d confessed to each other.
You would recoil when he touched you a little too intimately or start rambling about some completely unrelated topic out of anxiety.
Minho held off on taking it personally because he‘s been your best friend for almost three years and knows you‘ve never been in a serious relationship, but recently he just couldn’t help but think that maybe it was him who was the problem.
„no“ you scoff gently and minho sighs, bringing his hand from your waist to your cheek again, gently cupping it.
„whats wrong baby?“
„wha-„
„y/n, its just me“ he adds carefully „you‘ve been acting different around me…“
You look at him and feel a jab of guilt in your gut, you didn’t mean to act differently, but things just are different now.
„well you’re my boyfriend now“ you say slowly.
„but im still your friend“ he smiles gently „I’m both at once“
„I don’t know, it feels different“ you shale your head slightly, embarrassed of your anxious thoughts.
„bad-different?“ he inquires, calm although scared of your answer.
„no, I just- I feel like there is this expectation on me now to-„ you stop.
„to what?“ he pauses „to have sex with me?“
„I don’t know“ you blush furiously „yea, maybe“
Minho opens his mouth to disagree but you beat him to it.
„we‘ve been friends for so long and i‘ve witnessed you with multiple girls and I know you’re experienced and stuff so“ you sigh „I just don’t want you to be disappointed“ you don’t want to but you look up into his eyes anyway.
Minhos face is one of amused shock, he starts giggling and you attempt to turn away from him frustratedly, your eyes involuntarily filling with tears.
„no- no baby, i’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed“ he holds you, stopping you from moving away from him.
„you’re feelings are valid, I just… don’t agree with them“ he says carefully.
„nice, thanks“ you roll your eyes sarcastically.
„you’re not going to disappoint me y/n“ he cups your face „in no way shape or form, I promise“
„how can you promise that“ you pout, way more affected by this than you‘re admitting; probably due to the fact that you‘ve been carrying these feelings inside of you for a good month and didn’t tell anyone.
„I can promise it because I am very damned convinced of it“ he smiles.
When you don’t reply and just pick at his shirt absently, he leans down to press a long kiss to your lips.
„you trust me right?“ he whispers.
„of course“ you mumble back, running your fingers through his hair when he pulls you closer.
„I trust you“
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Text
Twin!AU Part 3:
Hunith and Uther alike have to face the consequences of their actions, Merlin (and everyone, really) decides that family doesn’t end in blood.
Part 1   Part 2
TW: Suicidal ideation (mostly past, but it sort of... flairs up a little here I guess)
Hunith’s face falls and she physically recoils at Merlin’s harsh declaration.
His hard gaze doesn’t leave her, even as she glances at Arthur, a little behind Merlin and to his side. The blonde has his gaze fixed on Hunith, but he looks away the moment they make eye contact, unable to stand the confused pain in her expression:
“Merlin? What happened?”
Lancelot and Percival approach slowly after handing the horses off to a couple of stablehands, and Gwaine puts his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, not that The Warlock notices; he clenches his jaw tightly before speaking, but continues resisting the urge to look away:
“You lied to me. About everything.”
Hunith’s eyes go wide and she gulps, opening her mouth and shutting it again as she struggles to think of a response. It’s then that Merlin finally looks away, gazing over the top of her head at the empty courtyard. Arthur quietly intervenes, his authoritative voice full of warring emotions despite it’s low volume:
“We should take this somewhere more private.”
Merlin doesn’t even nod, just turns around and walks back towards the castle, hands clenched tightly at his side before he pushes the doors open and stalks in without looking back. Gwaine and Arthur share a concerned look before the older knight rushes after him. Arthur gestures for Hunith to go first, but not without stopping her with a hand on her shoulder, and a muttered, almost teary:
“You had no right.”
Her face falls even further, but The Regent steps back and looks away before she can reply, and she timidly hurries through the door after Merlin and Gwaine. Arthur gives Lancelot and Percival a pointed look:
“I imagine we’ll be in my chambers, make sure we are undisturbed. I don’t want anyone interrupting unless the world is about to end. Let Leon and Morgana know that they can take charge of any meetings today.”
They both nod, but Lancelot jogs up the steps to stop Arthur before he can leave:
“I... know what she did was wrong, but don’t let Merlin be too harsh. He’s always been close to his mother, he’ll regret it later if he pushes her away completely.”
Arthur almost snaps out something about how Hunith isn’t Merlin’s mother, but he keeps it to himself, sighing and nodding:
“Yeah, I know, but she... she needs to know what this has done to him, how much he’s suffered needlessly because of this. There isn’t... I know she probably just did what she thought was right but... she needs to know. Merlin deserves an apology, and he certainly deserves the truth.”
Lancelot nods hesitatingly, but doesn’t say anything else, stepping aside to allow The Regent through. He catches up to the others just as Merlin slams the door open to his chambers, continuing to not look back as he heads over to the large dining table, leaning his hand against the back of one of the chairs and staring towards the window.
Gwaine and Arthur approach slowly, standing either side of him but not touching him as they wait in suspense for someone to start the conversation. Hunith already has tears in her eyes as she stands on the other side of the table, trying and failing to get Merlin to look at her. The harsh glare he laid on her before was horrific, but this... him being unable to look at her at all, that is worse:
“Merlin, please, I only did what-”
She’s cut off by Merlin’s harsh instruction:
“Sit.”
She glances to Arthur once more, but he just nods wordlessly at the chair in front of her; the only sounds in the room are the scraping of the chair on the stone floor and Merlin’s laboured breathing. He was evidently trying very hard to hold his anger in, and when he says nothing more once she’s sat down, Gwaine puts his hand back on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, finally turning to face Hunith but remaining unable to look in her eyes:
“Why?”
A tears slips loose from her eye and she sniffles, taking a deep, shaky breath and fiddling with her hands on the table. Arthur absent-mindedly wonders if Merlin would still do that too if he’d been raised with his actual family, if it was natural, or if he’d picked it up from her:
“Please, Merlin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”
Merlin takes in a sharp breath, tightening his gip on the chair in a way that looks painful, shaking his head:
“No. No apologies, no excuses. I want to know exactly why you lied to me, why you took this from me.”
His voice is deadly in a quiet kind of way, like he could snap clean in two and set the world alight at any moment. Gwaine looks worriedly between the other two men, clearly thinking on the same lines as Lancelot, but neither of them notice, Merlin’s gaze stuck to the table and Arthur’s stuck on Hunith:
“I would have told you one day, Merlin, you-”
Merlin finally looks up at her, the blazing fury in his eyes contrasting in a rather horrific manner with the steady stream of tears on his cheeks:
“One day when? Arthur’s known about my magic for ages. I’ve been in Camelot for years, you have had every opportunity.”
Hunith lets out a low sob, but doesn’t look away:
“I didn’t think you were ready, Mer-”
Merlin bites his lip and turns away, running his hands through his hair harshly before turning around again, quick as lightening, and pointing an accusing finger at her:
“No, you weren’t ready! You weren’t ready to face the fact that you lied to me about who I am, because you knew you had no right, because you knew I would be angry!”
Hunith stands, but doesn’t make any moves to approach Merlin at Arthur’s harsh glare and Gwaine’s worried gesture. He doesn’t think Merlin or Arthur would hurt her, he’d never even consider the idea, but he knows that his partner needs space to be angry:
“I didn’t want you to be upset,-”
Merlin scoffs and lets out a sob of his own, wiping his face harshly before responding loudly:
“Gods, I wonder why I would be upset! Maybe because you lied to me about everything?!-”
Hunith shakes her head desperately, but Merlin carries on without pause:
“-You had no right to keep this from me! I grew up alone, with no one but you to rely on because you made me think I was some kind of beast! Keeping me from Camelot, I understand, keeping it from me as I child even, I understand. But you’ve had years of opportunity, you are selfish, a hypocrite and a coward.-”
Hunith looks horrified at his admission, mainly the sudden reveal at how her treatment of Merlin had effected him independently of the lie:
“-I hated myself, I was terrified, I didn’t want to exist, because of you! You made me think I was some kind of unnatural monster and then you sent me to Gaius under the guise of teaching me control, so he could carry on the lie for you! He promised me I wasn’t a monster, that I wasn’t born evil, over and over, but he’s lied to me from the moment I met him, how am I supposed to trust anything he says?! How am I supposed to trust anything you say when I was just some unwanted, throwaway thing that you never asked for, and got rid of at the earliest opportunity?!-”
Gwaine and Arthur stare at Merlin with matching heartbreak in their expressions; it seems that Merlin is upset at more than just the base lie. The New Prince doesn’t even try to stop the tears, his breathing quick and ragged, and after a few moments of thick silence, he takes a deep breath and quietly continues:
“-I didn’t have to be so alone, that was all you, and Gaius, and Kilgharrah, and everyone else who lied to me. When I had nothing, I had you, and you lied to me.-”
Merlin’s voice cracks, his breathing shaky and his face pale as his entire world seemingly crumbles down around him:
“-You took my brother from me and you had no right. You’re not my mother, you’re just as bad as Uther.”
With those last words, he storms from the room, Gwaine hot on his heels. Arthur stays however, feeling the need to comfort the crying woman, but also feeling, maybe slightly cruelly, that she deserves this. He sighs, pushing the though from his mind and moving around to put a hand on her shoulder as she buries her face in her hands, sobbing:
“I... you did your best, I think he knows that, but that doesn’t change what you took from him, from both of us. He needs time.”
She just about manages a nod, and Arthur sighs again, standing awkwardly for a few minutes before he realises she isn’t going to stop any time soon. He gently pushes her to sit back in the chair before heading to the door, following Gwaine and Merlin.
They’re not in the corridor when he shuts the door behind him, but he’s not surprised at that. Merlin has always been private about his true emotions, always kept them close to his chest, he wouldn’t want anyone to see him having a breakdown in the middle of the hall. Months ago, Arthur would have thought it was left over fear of his magic being discovered, but now he bitterly thinks that it probably has more to do with the way he was raised.
He runs a hand through his hair, sparing a glance to the—previously unnoticed—worried looking guards. Thankfully, they were two of the men that had been trusted with the truth (Arthur reminds himself to thank Leon later for paying attention to who was stationed where), so Arthur isn’t too worried at the fact that they had likely overheard the one-sided yelling match. He fixes them with a commanding stare and clears his throat:
“Escort the Lady Hunith to the physician’s chambers when she emerges, leave her with Gaius, but don’t rush her.-”
They bow briefly in acknowledgement of his orders, and his question comes out quietly:
“-Do you know where they went?”
They needn’t ask who, and one of the guards answers lowly, matching Arthur’s volume:
“I think they headed to Sir Gwaine’s chambers, Sire.” 
He nods and mutters a quiet thank you, slowly heading in that direction, knowing he had to go see them but also wanting to give them few extra minutes of privacy. They still had a lot to take care of, they’d missed several council meetings over the last few days, and whilst Arthur trusts Leon and Morgana to keep things rolling, he really should be making regular appearances. That, and they still haven’t dealt with Uther; to be perfectly honest, Arthur is surprised that rumours haven’t started spreading about The King’s disappearance and Arthur’s sudden growth of responsibilities, but he’s grateful. Don’t look a gift Griffin in the mouth or... something.
He finally stops outside the knight’s room—nodding at Lance who wordlessly stands guard in the corridor—before flinching at the quiet crying he can hear from inside. He knocks a few times softly before entering, shutting the door behind him and approaching the bed. Gwaine sits leant against the headboard, tears in his eyes as he holds a shaking Merlin in his arms. The Warlock lays besides Gwaine, in the middle of the bed, his face buried in the knight’s chest and his hands twisted into the fabric of his tunic.
Arthur lets out a deep, mournful breath at the sight of his brother so distraught, and he moves around to the other side of the bed, raising his eyebrow in question at Gwaine and settling next to Merlin at his singular nod. Merlin doesn’t seem to notice his presence, not until Arthur settles a hand on his back and whispers his name. He instantly calms a little, and Gwaine mentally scolds himself for the slight flair of jealousy; Merlin had discovered he has a brother, that his best friend is his brother, it’s no surprise that he calms easier in his presence, especially considering the reveal unburied so much hidden trauma.
After a few more minutes, Merlin turns to be laying on his back, though he makes sure to stay in Gwaine’s embrace. The knight leans down to press a kiss to the top of his head, and though he can’t see it, he can almost feel the slight smile on The Warlock’s face. Arthur moves his hand back to his lap, looking at the two of them out of the corner of his eye; he sees nothing but worry and utter adoration on Gwaine’s face, and he wonders just how he hadn’t approved of their relationship. Gwaine’s whispered words just solidify Arthur’s newfound belief in the man:
“I love you, Merls, no matter what.”
Merlin lets out a quiet, choked laugh, and Gwaine considers that a win, even more so when Merlin responds in kind:
“I love you.”
Despite their relationship not being a particularly new thing, Arthur hadn’t even considered the possibility that they’d reached that far, that their partnership was that solid; perhaps that had something to do with their general lack of PDA, which he had always wondered how Gwaine had put up with. He grimaces with a quiet realisation, but it catches Merlin’s gaze and he raises a questioning eyebrow, his tears thankfully dried. Arthur glances up at Gwaine, who smirks at him knowingly, before looking back down to his brother:
“Making you Crown Prince is something I’m actually quite looking forward to, but I’m going to have to crown Gwaine as well.”
Gwaine snorts in amusement but Merlin turns pink and coughs slightly:
“Well.. we haven’t really discussed marriage, Arthur.”
Arthur looks to him with an apologetic expression:
“Merlin, royals have different courting rules. Royal partnerships tend to be incredibly short before a marriage has to happen. Back when me and Gwen were courting, we hid not only because Uther wouldn’t have approved, but also because we didn’t want to rush things. I’m especially glad we did now, otherwise we would have had to be married by now. The whole kingdom know that you two have been together for at least a year, the moment you’re crowned...”
His voice trails off as he comes to a second, horrifying realisation. He stands from the bed and stares at Gwaine with wide eyes and a pale face:
“Oh my God. Oh my God. If neither me, you, or Morgana have children... once you two have been married... Gwaine will officially be third in line for the throne. Oh... fuck.”
Merlin and Gwaine freeze for just a moment before they burst into loud laughter, and Arthur shakes his head, pacing slightly and not paying attention to the knocking at the door. Lancelot walks in slowly, an amused smile of his face despite his confusion:
“Do I even want to ask?”
Arthur fixes him with an almost distraught gaze before glaring half-heartedly at Merlin:
“Why? Why couldn’t it have been Leon, or Lancelot?? Elyan or Percival?? Hell, I would have been happier with fucking George.”
Gwaine’s laughter gets even louder but Merlin calmly wipes the tears (of laughter, thankfully) from his face and looks to Lancelot with bitten lips and held in hysterics:
“Arthur just realised that once all the crowning ceremonies happen, Gwaine will be third in line for the throne, if I’m the last one to die and there aren’t any children.”
Lance’s eyes go wide and he clamps a hand over his moth in a poor attempt to hold in his laughter. He fails miserably, bursting just like Gwaine and Merlin had moments earlier. Arthur fixes an annoyed glare on him and waves a desperate hand:
“This is not funny.”
Gwaine just shakes his head as he finally manages to calm himself, wiping his face clean and sitting up straight, one hand still on Merlin’s shoulder:
“It’s hilarious, Princess. God imagine Geoffrey’s face. Imagine the council.”
Arthur just takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling again:
“Fuck. Ok, alright, whatever. That is a problem for another time.-”
He looks back down to Merlin with an apologetic smile, after shooting one last withering glare at a still-smirking Gwaine:
“-You feeling up to council? I’ve missed a fair few, and I think it might be a good idea for you two to start making appearances as well. That and... as much as we’ve told them you have magic, it might be worth showing it off a little.-”
At Merlin’s wide, fearful eyes, Arthur holds his hands out placatingly and hurries to continue:
“-You don’t have to, but they're working on the ban repeal. Obviously not anything huge, but passing jugs or paper or whatever with magic might help desensitise them to the idea. Plus, now that you’re semi-officially royalty, and you have Gwaine or Leon trailing you almost everywhere, no one would dare attack you. And if they do, you have every right to defend yourself in whatever capacity you deem necessary.”
At Merlin’s still nervous face, Lancelot quickly tacks on:
“And they all know that Arthur would go ape-shit if anything were to happen to you.”
Arthur gestures at the knight and nods in agreement, nodding further at Gwaine’s quiet “He’s not the only one.” . Merlin takes a deep breath and shuffles off the bed, standing and straightening his clothes out with unsteady hands:
“Let’s go. You’re right, I’m going to have to get used to stupid council meetings at some point if you’re insisting on crowning me, might as well be now.”
Arthur and Lancelot smile proudly and Gwaine moves to stand at his side, straightening his own clothes before running his hands through Merlin’s hair, flattening and neatening it. Merlin stands still and lets himself be assessed and fixed with a soft smile on his face, and Arthur feels almost as if he were intruding on something personal and domestic, even more so than when they were professing their love for each other; he looks away awkwardly and Lancelot raises an amused eyebrow at him.
The four of them finally exit the room, Arthur and Merlin falling into step besides each other, Gwaine slightly behind them, and Lancelot trailing the three of them with his face pulled into a blank mask and his hand on his sword.
This time, there is no hesitation before they enter the council room, and no raised eyebrows when Merlin takes his rightful place alongside Arthur at the head of the table. Flanked by Morgana, Leon, Lancelot, and Gwaine, Arthur effortlessly takes control of the meeting, hurrying things along with a proud confidence and an easy authority that was slowly but surely being taken on by his brother, at his side.
~
The council session lasts for the remainder of the day, and though at least half of the councilmen yelp, Gaius obviously not included, when Merlin first starts floating things about or magically highlighting words or moving the room’s lighting around with a flick of his wrist, most of them are used to it by the time the sun touches the horizon.
Arthur finally calls an end to the meeting when it gets dark. Though he was in a slightly manic mood and desperate to get as much work done as possible now that he was actually free to attend meetings, he could see that the others, Merlin especially, were flagging. He knew it would happen eventually, he can’t imagine The Warlock has been sleeping much, and he definitely came to some sort of private, horrifying conclusion around half a candle-mark ago. The hitch in Merlin’s breath, the widening of his eyes, and the slight, tiny flair of every candle in the room thankfully went unnoticed by everyone bar Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot.
When the room empties of councilmen, Merlin stands and paces away from the table, hands fiddling roughly with his sleeves. Arthur waves Morgana and Leon away, thanking them briefly before nodding pointedly at the door. Lancelot follows shortly, and Arthur has half a mind to send Gwaine away as well, but he knows that would be somewhat selfish as the other man approaches his partner’s turned back:
“Merlin? Something wrong? I thought that went remarkably well.”
Merlin’s head turns quickly, his furrowed brows confused:
“What? What went well?”
Gwaine raises an eyebrow, glancing briefly at the neatly stacked paperwork on the table:
“The meeting? About planning your coronation and the legalisation of magic? That we’ve been in all afternoon?”
Merlin untenses slightly, turning around properly and using one hand to rub at his eyes tiredly:
“Oh, yeah right. It did go well. They didn’t freak out too much at my evil sorcery, did they?”
He tries to go for a joking smirk, but it falls flat, and Arthur walks towards him to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder:
“What’s on your mind?”
Merlin sags even more and Arthur quickly steps forward, gathering the suddenly distraught man in a tight hug. Merlin easily accepts, burying his face in Arthur’s neck and clutching the back of his tunic with shaking hands:
“I compared my mother to Uther. I told her it was her fault that I didn’t want to be alive. She’s never going to forgive me.”
Arthur shuts his eyes, stroking a hand through Merlin’s hair and muttering a quiet:
“Oh, Merlin, she loves you more than anything in this world, there’s nothing to forgive.”
Merlin doesn’t look up, but shakes his head roughly; before he can argue, Gwaine steps around the two of them, pressing a kiss to the nape of Merlin’s neck before stepping back and stroking a soft hand over his back:
“What she did was wrong, Merls, you’re allowed to be angry. And now you’re not so angry anymore you can go sit down with her and talk it out, ok? There was no way that first conversation was going to be anything other than difficult and heartbreaking, but you got through it, and now you can sort it out properly.”
Merlin relaxes just a touch, and Arthur gets the disturbing feeling swelling in his gut that Gwaine knew of Merlin’s (hopefully, former) despairs before the whole... twin thing. When The Warlock finally pulls away, he thankfully looks a little more confident, despite the drying tears on his cheeks; Arthur gives him a soft smile and nods towards the door:
“Tonight, or tomorrow?”
Merlin takes a deep, fortifying breath, and walks towards the door purposefully, wiping his face clean before taking Gwaine’s offered hand in his own:
“Tonight, now. I should... I need to talk to Gaius as well. I’ve been unfairly punishing him for long enough, I think.”
Gwaine smiles understandingly, though Arthur, who rushes to catch up and walk on Merlin’s other side, shakes his head with a frown:
“Not unfairly, Merlin. It would be well within your rights to cut them out of your life for the foreseeable future for this. But I also understand wanting to forgive them so you have more... support. They may not be blood, Merlin, but... they are family, and that’s ok.”
Gwaine gives him an annoyed look at his first words, over Merlin’s shoulder, but doesn’t say anything. Merlin stops in the middle of the hallway, suddenly and without warning, and Gwaine grunts slightly when his arm is pulled back. The Warlock spares him an apologetic smile before turning his gaze to Arthur. Arthur raises an eyebrow, but Merlin tilts his head and frowns:
“Arthur you do know that... I consider you family above all others, right? you’re right, family doesn’t have to be blood,-”
He squeezes Gwaine’s hand, almost subconsciously, and receives a gentle squeeze back:
“-but after what we’ve found out, after all of this, all that we’re doing to... fix it, to fix what was done to us... you’re everything, you’re my brother. Me forgiving Hu... my mother, and Gaius, doesn’t change that I trust you above them, I consider you before them. They’re family, but you’re family first.”
Arthur’s eyes widen slightly at Merlin’s stern assertion, but he wills the tears in his eyes to disappear as he nods once, his jaw clenched with emotion. Merlin smirks slightly and rolls his eyes, muttering something about an “emotionally repressed idiot” before pulling him into an eagerly returned hug. Gwaine just snorts at both of them, happily leaning against the wall with crossed arms as he waits. They pull away fairly quickly, hyper aware of the fact that they were in the middle of the corridor, and whilst basically the whole citadel had picked up on the fact that something had changed, is changing, they didn’t want to let on too much until official public announcements were made.
They hurry in their journey to the Physician’s chambers, it was getting late and they wanted to sort this out as soon as possible; Gods know Merlin isn’t going to sleep a wink until he's spoken to his mother again.
They pause momentarily outside the door, taking deep breaths as they attempt to block out the hushed conversations coming from inside, not wanting to eavesdrop. Merlin turns to Gwaine with a nervous frown:
“Would you mind... waiting out here? Just for a minute?”
Gwaine gives him a soft smile and nods, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering “Call for me when you want me to come in, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” before giving Arthur an encouraging clap on the shoulder and stepping back to lean against the opposite wall.
Arthur sends a grateful smile the knight’s way, receiving a respectful nod in return, before he turns to the door. After a nod from Merlin, he raises a hand that shakes only slightly, and knocks. The murmured conversations stop immediately, and Gaius’ voice calls out:
“Enter.”
With one last look to each other, the brothers open the door and walk in together, shutting it gently behind them and turning to face the shocked pair. Hunith stares at Merlin with tears in her hopeful eyes, but Gaius quickly clears his throat and stands straight:
“How can I help, My Lords?”
Arthur sighs and Merlin shakes his head at the Physician’s formal address of them, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes before taking a small step forward :
“Don’t... I’m not... just Merlin, please.-”
His voice is quiet and tired, and the pleading tone it takes on deepens Arthur’s frown. He lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip before looking up to Hunith and continuing:
“-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. And I didn’t have any right to say those things; you’re... you’re nothing like Uther, and you did your best in a terrifying situation. You didn’t know any better, I shouldn’t blame you for how I turned out.”
Hunith’s tears overflow once again, and she takes in a shuddering breath as she steps hesitatingly towards the Warlock:
“Oh, my boy, you were right. I wasn’t ready to lose you, and I let that fear overcloud my judgement of what I knew to be right. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I should have told you who you were a long time ago, and it wasn’t fair of me to expect Gaius to carry on the lie, especially when you met Arthur, and especially when he found out about your magic.”
With that, Merlin pulls her into a tight hug, height difference be damned as he buries his face in her neck and shakes. Arthur gulps as he looks upon the scene, sharing a small, mournful smile with Gaius, the Physician understanding The Regent’s forgiveness in the small nod of his head. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as Arthur was expecting, though he supposes that forgiveness is more than just saying it aloud, and Merlin still has a great deal of self-worth related issues to get over, thanks to Hunith’s overly cautious raising of the boy. The Warlock clears his throat, his hands still on his mother’s shoulders as he gives her a weak smile:
“Igraine says thank you, by the way, for raising me with so much love.”
Hunith lets out a small chuckle, wiping away Merlin’s tears with soft hands:
“It was my honour,  I’m glad that your... mother, is pleased.”
Merlin’s frown is brief, and he responds quickly:
“You’re my mother.”
Hunith’s smile grows, as does Merlin’s and she nods shakily, almost whispering:
“Ok... I... ok.”
Merlin lets go hesitatingly, but turns to Gaius after a moment or two. The Physician quickly interrupts anything the younger man could have said with a shake of his head and a soft smile, pulling him into a hug as he softly speaks:
“It’s alright, my boy. You were well within your rights to be angry, we had no right to lie to you in such a way.”
With Gaius and Merlin’s soft conversation happening to the side of the room, Hunith turns to Arthur with a hopeful smile on her face. He returns it faintly, and she pulls him into his own hug. He stiffens in her hold, wide eyes darting around the room as he clenches his hands at his side. It only takes her stroking a hand through his knotted hair for him to relax and hug her back:
“I’m honoured to have been able to raise your brother, Arthur, and I am sorry for keeping him from you for so long, it was selfish of me. I didn’t consider what you were losing, in not knowing that you weren’t alone, only what I would lose should I tell the truth.”
Arthur gulps and nods, but tightens his hold on her as the tears come to his eyes:
“It’s... ok. I understand, I think. The danger you put yourself in to raise and protect him was immense, I just wished I’d known sooner, so I could have done all of this sooner.”
They pull back, but Hunith keeps a tight hold on Arthur’s shoulders, an assessing frown on her face as she raises a hand to cup his cheek. Arthur leans into it, blushing slightly under her motherly gaze:
“I know. But you’re doing wonderfully, Arthur. You and Merlin will be the saviours of this Kingdom, I’m sure of it. Your mother would be so proud of you.”
A tear slips loose from Arthur’s eye as he harshly bites his lip. His voice comes out small and unsure, and Hunith has to resist the urge to pull him into another hug:
“You think?”
She just smiles and nods instead:
“I’m sure.”
Merlin and Gaius look upon the scene fondly, and Arthur’s blush deepens when he catches them staring. He steps back from Hunith who smirks at him knowingly as he frowns at Merlin:
“Shut up, Merlin.”
He just laughs and shakes his head:
“I always knew you had a soft spot for my mum.”
The Regent shakes his head and rolls his eyes, ignoring Merlin’s continued laughter:
“Either of you eaten? I’m starved.”
Gaius and Hunith’s smiles come a lot easier at that, and they shake their heads. Arthur leads the way out of the chambers, smiling and nodding at Gwaine’s raised eyebrow. The knight returns the smile, quickly sidling up to Merlin and re-taking his hand as Arthur speaks:
“I’ll let the kitchens know to have five meals sent up to my chambers, I’ll see you there in a moment.”
They part ways in the corridor, all of them with easy smiles and lighter hearts, especially when Gwaine eagerly regales his interpretation of Arthur’s reaction to having to crown him.
~
The next morning was once again tense. Arthur’s assertion late last night that he intended to finally deal with Uther weighs heavy in everyone’s minds.
Hunith and Gaius are once again tucked safely into the Physician’s chambers, and all of the King’s most trusted knights are called to stand guard in the corridor. Merlin and Arthur wear their smart clothes (a suggestion by Morgana that Gwaine thought was funny enough that he begged and begged until Merlin gave in), and they take in with them Leon and Morgana. 
Uther looks manic, his hair unkept, his face unshaven. His clothes are clean at least, but they’re rumpled, likely due to the near constant pacing of the former King. The room is dark, the curtains obviously haven’t been opened in several days, but the dim candles highlight the mess throughout the room. Uther may still be being passed meals by the guards, but out of concern for the staff’s safety, no servants were granted access to tidy or otherwise serve. 
His head whips around when the door opens, his enraged face turning red at the four people stood smartly by his door. He storms towards them, but Morgana, no longer scared of the consequences, holds a hand out and mutters a few golden words, halting him in his tracks. He apparently hasn’t lost his voice though, as he turns to Merlin:
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER?! YOU-”
Merlin rolls his eyes and clicks his fingers, his eyes also turning golden as Uther’s mouth shuts with a clack. Leon manages to hold his smirk in, just stands still as the perfect guard, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but Morgana doesn’t even try, smiling openly. Merlin holds Uther’s furious gaze for a few more moments before looking to Arthur at his side, tilting his head in question. The Regent nods at him before stepping forward, his back straight and his face and voice Kingly:
“You will listen, and you will listen well, because I will not repeat myself. You are the only abomination in this room, and you will live with that for the rest of your days. How long that is, is up to you. I am Regent, soon enough I will be King, Myrddin will be Crown Prince, and Morgana will be Princess; when that happens, magic will finally be fully legalised, and the public will be made aware of your crimes. I will not hide things from my people, not like you have. No matter what you deserve, I struggle to bring myself to sentence you to execution, and you’ll be humiliated to learn, I imagine, that Merlin argued in favour of letting you keep your head when I brought it up.-”
Uther glances angrily at Merlin, but looks back to Arthur when he realises that he’s still incapable of speaking:
“-Therefor your options are as follows: You may go to the summer home on the coast, where you will be under constant guard, but will otherwise have a semi-free life. You will stay in Camelot, but live out the remainder of your days in this room only. Or me and Merlin will take a week long trip away to, say, Nemeth, whilst Princess Morgana and Sir Leon announce, organise, and undergo your execution. You have today to decide, we’ll be back this evening.”
Arthur doesn’t bother waiting for a reaction, turning his back on Uther and gesturing the others to lead the way through the door. He pauses momentarily, one hand on the door frame as he turns back, a mournful frown on his face as he quietly speaks:
“If you had just told the truth, if you had just owned up to making a mistake, you, me, Myrddin, Morgana, we... we could have been a family. You’re the one that ruined that, you’re the one that tore us apart, and I swear to you now, that whatever option you pick, I will never forgive you.”
That only seems to enrage Uther more, but Arthur isn’t quite sure why he bothered to hope for another reaction. He shuts the door behind him, waving at Merlin to reset the magical locks as he sighs and rubs tired hands over his face:
“Well at least that’s over and done with.”
Leon pats him on the shoulder consolingly, and Elyan raises an eyebrow, glancing around at the others and sighing when he realises no one else is going to ask:
“He didn’t take it well then, I’m guessing?”
Arthur takes a deep breath and stands straight, shaking his head. Morgana is the one to answer however, and Arthur appreciates the way she makes a genuine attempt to keep the humour out of her voice:
“No, he wasn’t best pleased, but I think he’s accepted that he has well and truly lost this battle. Something he’s not entirely used to, I suppose.”
The knights nod in understanding, and Merlin lets out a deep breath, tilting his head slightly:
“Weird to think that he’s my... dad... ugh.”
They all chuckle at that, even Arthur, though they all stop with concerned frowns when Merlin suddenly straightens up with wide eyes and an open mouth:
“Oh... my God... how did I...- What?!”
Arthur puts a hand on his shoulder, his frown deepening:
“Merls?”
The Warlock just ignores him, turning to Morgana with still wide eyes:
“You’re my sister! I’ve been focusing so much on how Arthur’s my brother that I didn’t even consider the fact that you’re my sister!”
Morgana takes in a sudden breath, and all bar Leon (who just raises an eyebrow and then rolls his eyes when he realises that he’s the only one unsurprised by this) stare at the two of them in shock. Morgana slowly pulls Merlin into a hug, and the two of them clutch each other tightly as a grin grows on Arthur’s face. Leon gives him another clap on the back, this one more congratulatory (if a little confused. Honestly, how did they miss that?), and the others cheer just as Gwen turns the corner into the corridor. She smiles confusedly at Merlin and Morgana, still hugging, as she sidles up to Leon, whispering:
“What’s the occasion? They find Uther dead?”
Leon laughs but shakes his head, leaning down to mutter his response:
“They only just now figured out that they’re siblings.”
She looks up to him quickly with a disbelieving raise of the eyebrows:
“Wait, just now as in, just now?-”
Leon smirks and nods firmly, and Gwen shakes her head as she laughs:
“-It’s been almost a week.”
Leon laughs as well leaning against the wall as the others chatter excitedly among themselves:
“Yeah, apparently you and I are the only ones who had considered the idea. These are all the smartest people I’ve ever come across...”
He trails off, but Gwen looks up at him with a teasing smirk:
“And yet sometimes...?”
They both laugh quietly, shaking their heads when Percival catches their eyes and tilts his head in question.
The group walks away soon enough, heading to one of the smaller dining rooms for an early lunch and a chance to discuss their intentions for this afternoon’s council meeting. Morgana, Merlin, and Arthur walk together, and conversation flows between all bar Gwaine, who stares at the back of his now betrothed’s head with the quiet adoration and lowly simmering excitement of someone that knew the man he loves is finally getting all that he deserves.
~
END of Part 3!!!
Part 4 will be VERY short. Will be just about post coronation and public announcement, will probably contain Merwaine’s wedding, some casual magic, some more family bonding.
I hope y’all enjoyed this!!! I wrote it surprisingly quickly once I set my mind to it
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maeve-writes · 3 years
Text
Heroes
Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers
Rating: 18+, Minors DNI 
Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.
Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes. 
a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?
You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.
It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers. 
Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.
Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.
“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.
You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.
Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.
“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”
That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.
His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.
You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm. 
While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.
The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.
Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.
When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.
“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.
“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory. 
Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone. 
The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.” 
Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”
It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”
Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue. 
The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside. 
Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed. 
Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged. 
Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild. 
“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves. 
You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests. 
Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.
You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.
Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”
“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement. 
“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.
“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously. 
“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”
“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.
You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.
“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.
He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him. 
The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress. 
���One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.
To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.
Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights. 
Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention. 
His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go. 
But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold. 
During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.
Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.
Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.
“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”
“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”
“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.
a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!
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yuujisun · 3 years
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the moon is no longer beautiful.
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pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader
genre: angst
word count: ~1k
authors note: first writing post on this acc is angst :) no i am not sorry, because i cried while writing it [weep]. i hope u all enjoy!!
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sakusa was in love with you.
head over heels, he was deeply, madly, truly in love with you; he was in love with the way you look in the morning, just as the sun landed on your face through the curtains. he loved the way you’re so.. neat. you never left something messier than it was when you got there. he loved everything about you.
but these days, it seemed like he loved it all.. a little less. he didn't feel the butterflies whenever you kissed him, he didn't blush when you called him ‘your prince’, he didn't react when you said you loved him, but how could he tell you that... he didn't love you anymore.
kiyoomi never knew it was possible to fall out of love with the person who has been with you through thick and thin, through better or worse, through sickness and health. it’s been six years since you two started dating, and everyday, up until a few months ago, kiyoomi felt more and more in love with you.
and he doesn't know if it’s because you’re too good to him, or maybe you’re a little less neat than you were, but he can’t see himself falling in love with you again.
he was at practice, the day he decided to tell you, while you were at home preparing dinner. you made his favourite dish, as you wanted to tell him about the promotion you got at work. you had noticed him being a little distant, but you brushed it off, knowing that he’ll tell you when he needs too.
and you didn't expect him to not come home that day, or the next day, or the day after. he hasn't been back home in more than a week, and you were getting worried.
for the whole week you’ve been absent from work, laying in your queen-sized bed and desperately waiting for him to come back home. you sent out multiple messages to him, asking him to come back, asking him to talk to you and work this out.
a call, at three in the morning, interrupted your quiet sobbing. you didn’t expect it to be sakusa, but even if he hurt you, you didn't hesitate to click the green button and accept the call.
“hey,” he said, his voice low and monotone, showing barely emotion, while yours was trembling and cracking. “hey..” you replied, trying to hold back the huge lump in your throat. it was good to hear his voice, even though there was almost no chance of him coming back. “are you okay?”
“i’m safe,” he replied, although he didn’t specify if he’s okay or not. “listen, i know it’s three in the morning, but i don’t have any clean clothes, so i’ll come over and get my stuff.” he stated, still showing no feeling of guilt, or empathy to you, in his voice.
kiyoomi was good at hiding his feelings. he hid how uncomfortable he was when you kissed him, he hid how… lost he was in his feelings for you. he didn’t know what he felt anymore, therefore he didn’t show any emotions anymore. he simply shrugged or gave you a small smile.
sakusa was in love with you. but he’s not anymore.
when he came to pick up his stuff, he didn’t look at you, he didn’t make any effort to actually talk to you. “kiyoomi,” you mumbled. "why’re you doing this?”
“i have to,” he shrugged, neatly folding his already folded clothes into his bag. “i can’t keep doing this anymore.”
“can’t keep doing what? we were fine until you decided to leave for a whole week!” you shouted, hot tears staining your puffy cheeks. “why do you always run away from your problems instead of figuring it out!”
“i was figuring it out! without you!” sakusa raised his voice. for the first time in six years, you heard him shouting. he felt bad for hurting you like this, but he can’t live like this, not anymore. “i wasn’t running away from my problems… i was taking time to think about us.”
“what.. what do you mean?” you wiped your tears, getting out of bed for the first time in over a week. your legs were weak, barely keeping you standing. “are.. we breaking up?”
the room was dark, but the moon perfectly illuminated his facial features: the two moles on his forehead, that you used to kiss every night before sleeping. his nose, that you hoped your kids would have, because it’s perfect. his lips, that you kissed so passionately, trying to show love to every inch of his body. and his eyes… the eyes that looked at you with much love and admiration, ones that wanted to soak up all the happiness you projected, ones that turned into crescent moons whenever he smiled.
and sadly enough, when you looked at him, there was no longer stars in his eyes, instead you were met with nothing but guilt and regret. you wanted to stop the time, rewind, try to come up with what the reason for this break-up is. you did everything right, yet you managed to screw everything up?
an uncomfortable silence had filled the room, making both you and sakusa feel awkward with the situation you two are in. kiyoomi was split in two: one part of him wanted to sit next to you and comfort you, like he would if he still felt the same. while the other urged him to leave the place as soon as possible.
“are you sure..” you mumbled, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt. “... that there’s nothing i can do to make you stay?” your throat constricted, making your voice seem small. every time you sobbed, it felt like you were trying to swallow a still-beating heart yet choking on it.
“i apologize, y/n.” he sighed and sent you one last glance. sakusa's heart clenched in agony as your tears mirrored the moon's glow. he didn't want to do it, but he knew it was the only solution to that problem. "the moon hasn't always been beautiful."
and you were standing alone once again, with nothing but the memories he has left behind. the moon was no longer beautiful; nothing about its shimmer made you feel anything; instead, it made you hurt.
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i hope u all get the reference...
all work written by yuujisun in tumblr is not to be uploaded on any other writing publishing site without permission.
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todoscript · 3 years
Text
lilies & lilacs pt. i
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SUMMARY: A dilemma with his grand charity gala brings Todoroki Shouto, CEO of Todoroki Enterprises, at your humble flower shop’s doorstep.
pairing: ceo!todoroki shouto x florist!reader
genre: eventual smut. fluff. slow burn. no quirks au.
word count: 5.6k+
warnings: none in this part, but expect sexual content in the future.
author’s note: this has been rotting in my wips for a couple of months now, but i finally decided to post it with the decision of progressing the story into parts. thank you to the lovely rosie aka @shoutogepi for initially betareading this and keeping the hype up for the fic in our chats together (love you <333)! feedback is welcomed and before you ask, im opening a taglist for the next 2 parts so just ask if you wish to be included
lilies & lilacs is copyright 2020 todoscript, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else.
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The uneasy padding of her boss’ dress shoes across the floor of his office made the secretary restless. She knew the bad news she delivered would cause some displeasure to stir within him, but never would she expect his tough bearings to falter, his troubles conveyed in hasty steps and frayed skin skewing those handsome features.
During the past two years she’s worked for him, she always thought his expression was nearly unreadable. When it came to his high position, her boss was forward and direct at conducting business—calm, stoic, and a perfect representation of efficiency and strong work ethic in his field. So while she witnessed the man’s uncharacteristic distress before her eyes, she wasn’t sure how this could end well for her.
Sweat began beading her forehead at the tension creeping between each tap of his feet against the hardwood below, coming to an unnerving halt behind his desk. When her eyes found his, all she could gather in those gray and turquoise clouds was annoyance toward their current predicament.
“What do you mean we don’t have a florist booked yet?” he repeated the dilemma she relayed to him merely moments ago. Hearing the agitation in his voice caused a nervous gulp to drop in her throat. She clutched her clipboard firmly in her arms to keep herself anchored in the wake of her boss’ growing frustration. However, she was still unsure how to continue as the words remained sealed in her mouth.
“Well?” Noticing his secretary’s lack of response, he pushed forward, hands leaning against the edge of his mahogany desk. The woman urged herself to endure the obstacles by first breathing through her nose before swallowing the lump in her throat, responding quickly.
“Um, Mr. Todoroki, sir, it seems all the florists on our list have all been booked for other events for the rest of the month,” she said, but mentally scolded herself when she heard herself sputter in such an unprofessional manner. Despite that, she prayed the explanation was enough to sate even a fraction of her boss’ inner turmoil.
Shouto approached her answer with silence before that foreseeable sigh left his lips, spilling with exasperation. He turned, his back facing the secretary, gaze lined to the windows gracing him with sunlight behind his desk. Stuck in contemplation, he pinched the bridge of his nose, mouth pursed in a firm line.
Where am I going to find a florist in time for this damn charity gala? He internally griped, closing his eyes as if that would help him uncover the solution to this untimely mess.
His esteemed company, Todoroki Enterprises, had arranged a plan to hold a widely anticipated charity gala by the end of this month. The event was conducted to raise funds for all manners of different charities that would vary in the level of grandeur on display. And given that the organizing for the event would be under his very name, Shouto had the critical responsibility of ensuring nothing but peak quality to those that would attend.
His staff had long procured the venue and were managing the layout of the gala. They sought out some suitable entertainment, booked catering, and scheduled for the charity auctions and raffles to take place throughout the night. What was still needed were the decorations, and right now that was where they hit their deadend with no florist currently reserved.
And here’s the real kicker: the gala was two weeks away.
Two. Weeks.
How he allowed for such errors to occur was beyond him at this point. All that really mattered was that he found a way to correct those mistakes and fast.
As much as Shouto figured he could skip past the flowers and substitute them with some other kind of flashy decorations, he already had a clear idea of how he wanted the gala to look. The floral arrangements would compliment the theme of the event exceedingly well. Turning back on the plan would be an insult to everyone’s prepared attire for the evening, with the dress code already sent out to all the distinguished guests invited to this grandiose ball. No doubt in his mind, he needed that florist, and needed them stat.
Sure on his resolution, he finally shifted to face his secretary. The anxious expression plastered on her face greeted him, and at that, Shouto bit his lip. His guilt surfaced for allowing his emotions to affect his workspace. He knew better than to take out his frivolous thoughts on his staff, who very well had no control over the situation. So he eased the atmosphere, attempting to lift the tension surrounding his office in the dreary gray of his temper.
“Nishiyama, I’m sorry for my behavior just now,” he apologized. The secretary, in turn, was taken aback, eyes widened. Her anxiety slowly whittled away as she scampered to return his kind gesture.
“Oh no, sir, it’s fine! I’m sure you were just feeling stressed hearing the news. I surely would be if I were in your shoes.”
“No, it’s not. I was acting childish despite how much you and everyone have done so far for the event,” Shouto said, “I should be thankful for your time, considering you also have a family to take care of at home.”
While the woman stared at him, abashed by his sincerity, Shouto swiveled his chair around to take a seat. A much-needed seat to be entirely honest. His secretary was not kidding about how the bad news seemed to harrow some stress in his body. But, being accustomed to having this weight pushed on his shoulders from the very moment he was announced the head of the company many years ago, he more than anticipated the stress to come with the job.
Shouto spared his secretary one last glance before his eyes darted down between the important papers sprawled on his desk. “If that’s all the news we needed to address today then you’re dismissed, Nishiyama. Carry on with the rest of the organizing as planned,” he ordered. Nishiyama lowered her clipboard to her hip.
“R-Right. Thank you, sir.” She parted his presence with a curt bow. Shouto picked up on her heels clicking toward his office door until they suddenly stopped altogether, looking back at the man midway. “What about the florist, sir?” she asked, concerned at the unresolved predicament lingering in the air. Her question wasn’t met with an immediate reply, but Shouto eventually gave her an answer he deemed adequate of a response. His words were coated with as much reassurance as he could muster in this situation.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it myself.”
.
.
The task was easier said than done.
Usually, when it came to booking a florist for special occasions like this, you’d want to contact them months ahead of the scheduled date to ensure maximum efficiency and work out any problems that should arise. But there were only two weeks left until the awaited charity gala.
Shouto was certainly pushing his luck at this point and to a dangerous degree. If he didn’t find someone to arrange the flowers for the ball soon, the venue might be absent of all life and mood, essentially flopping from missing such a key element. Shouto could not allow for that to happen.
Given his word, he took it in his hands to rectify this mistake. For the entirety of the day, he sifted through the aforementioned list of florists his secretary had provided him—extended thanks to his team’s desperate search for more options.
All he had to do was narrow down the lineup. Unfortunately, those efforts may as well have been all for naught.
“Hello, is this Himawari’s Garden? I’d like to speak with the head florist there about arranging the flowers for a gala my company has been planning—”
“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but we’re currently busy preparing for a big wedding coming up next week. If you’d like, I can try and book our services for you toward the next month or so when we’ll be available?”
Shouto’s brows tightened during the exchange—a gesture he’d been repeating as of late while he dwindled the line of florists. If he kept it up, those wrinkles might be embedded into his skin permanently. He was at least grateful he managed to thwart the heavy breath of air that threatened to leave his lips and reveal his frustration to the woman on the phone.
“No, that’s fine. Thank you for your time.” With that, he hung up.
Shouto leaned back in his seat in exasperation, his weight pressed into the cushions as his eyes situated themselves toward the ceiling. The consistent taps of his fingers on his mahogany desk were all he heard amidst his deep contemplation. His eyes lidded shut in an attempt to seek a moment of refuge from the stress, but his conscience began eating at him.
Of course, what was he thinking? The beginnings of spring to late autumns were the mark of wedding season—the time where florists and other businesses specializing in decorative arrangements thrived and busied themselves with eager clients. Not only that, but it was also the month of June. The sixth month of the year was undoubtedly the most popular month among couples to hold their weddings, and he had witnessed this fact firsthand through his myriad of fruitless phone calls.
Shouto had thoroughly wrung through his rope and teetered on the edge of complete defeat. He sealed down his most recent loss at the hand of another busy floral business by striking a line across Himawari’s Garden on his list. At that, the total tallied to thirty whole flower shops. Thirty unsuccessful attempts.
That sigh he contained during the phone call found its way out of his throat in dramatic waves of displeasure
“You alright, sir?”
His administrative assistant, Midoriya Izuku, heard his huffs when he entered the threshold of Shouto’s office. He noted his boss’ hunched posture and the rare crease crinkled between his nose bridge, pressed against his hands that were clenched together above his desk.
“I’m guessing the new list of florists was also a no-go?”
Shouto didn’t offer any words, instead sliding said list—now fully crossed out—toward his assistant as his reply. Craning his head for a better look, Midoriya feigned a smile, not wanting to let the man’s defeat consume the mood entirely.
“Well... I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised… Wedding season is upon us after all.”
Oh yes, Midoriya. Shouto knew that very well. So much so that he sunk further into his desk at the reminder, head practically drooped with a gloomy rain cloud hovering atop him. The green-haired assistant fervently shook his head back-and-forth upon realizing his remark had thrown salt into his wound. “Oh, I-I mean... Don’t worry, sir! I’m sure we’ll still be able to sort out this problem in time before the gala!” he sputtered to help alleviate the despair that crept in, but it came to no avail according to his boss’ silent sulky demeanor. That was when Midoriya remembered the two cups of hot coffee held in each of his hands.
“Ah, right, I made you some coffee! I figured you could use one considering you’ve been cooped up in your office all day.” Setting one in front of him, Shouto perked up at the nutty aroma that slowly slipped into his senses. He eyed the fresh cup of coffee tentatively, the steam flitting above it in wisps.
Lifting the cup, the rich smell wafted further into his nostrils, imbuing him with that familiar peace he usually reveled in. On any ordinary day, he’d be accompanied by his classic roasted blend perched on his desk, with no problems threatening to disturb his peaceful routine. Not anything like today. Not anything like this dilemma of a desperate time crunch for a florist.
Perhaps that was what he needed. A filter of caffeine to wash away the ordeal like it was a bad morning plaguing him with baggy under-eyes and fatigue from a previous day of hard work. Though he’s sure not even caffeine could erase the headaches he developed throughout his day so far. If anything, indulgence would just make those headaches worse.
Nonetheless, he welcomed the smooth blend of flavors that ebbed down his throat through modest sips, rejuvenation quickly oozing in his veins. Headaches or not, the stimulation from the caffeine was essential if he wanted to combat the rest of the day with some drive.
“Thanks, Midoriya. I needed that,” Shouto acknowledged. He nodded at his assistant, who rubbed the back of his head modestly, saying how it was no problem at all, but the way his boss suddenly got up from his seat interrupted his words.
Shouto already felt the strong coffee going to work as his steps picked up in long strides around his desk that had the assistant’s brows knitting together, confused. “Where are you going, sir?” Midoriya asked, his voice sounding more distant to Shouto, who continued his way past him and toward the door.
“A quick drive,” was the blatant answer he gave. He downed the last of the cup before tossing it in the trash bin near the exit of his office. “Something to clear my head a bit. I’ll be back soon, but until then, keep reaching out to any businesses that could potentially be available to help us.”
“Yes, of course, sir! You can count on me!” Midoriya was prompt in replying. As expected, being Shouto’s right-hand man at the company.
With that, Shouto took to the parking lot below his building, twirling his keys over his index finger before hopping into his Mercedes and driving off.
The withering sunlight cast its glare over his car during his ride through the city. By now, the skies splayed vibrant red as the sun gandered above the horizon. He drove down the narrow and busy streets that kept the place bustling at these hours. It was likely the time when people finished up their workday and were eager to arrive home for much-needed rest.
During a particularly long wait at a red traffic light, he pondered over his predicament again. His thumb rapped against the steering wheel while he bit his bottom lip, that ugly feeling of regret seeping into his thoughts.
Maybe he placed too much faith in these flowers after all. Sure, he mentioned the vital role they played in aligning with the theme and complimenting the guests’ attires. But was it worth all the trouble he put his team through, searching through a throng of businesses already busy with their own events to organize? In a way, this could’ve been sorted out had he recognized the current times and planned accordingly to avoid the mess. But now they were trapped in this bind, crunching for anyone that could help them within only fourteen short days.
Just as he weighed the idea of calling Midoriya over the bluetooth in his car to drop the floral arrangements altogether, something caught his eye at the last second.
Shouto peered through his window, squinting at the corner, where he spotted a cart of flowers in front of a shop of some sort. His grip tightened around the leather of his steering wheel as he leaned in for a better look. Some kind of spark in him roused his anticipation the more he shifted forward in his seat, like the hope that was slowly fading inside was igniting once again.
Another inch further and he attained a better look of the shop. Its sign came into view just below the small boundary of his window—letters brushed in calligraphy on a long board of canvas with lilies painted on the edges that seamed together into a bouquet.
N… Neigh… Neighborhood Lily.
He deciphered the words, but didn’t give them much thought. All that enveloped his mind afterward was the fact the name wasn’t any of the list of thirty shops he phoned today. So the very moment the light overhead flickered to green, Shouto’s hold on the wheel tightened. His foot gradually stepped on the pedal with much more purpose.
He decided to take a brief detour from this casual little drive of his.
.
.
It was about six o’clock when you waved off your latest customer, who was leaving the shop with a basket of vibrant tulips swinging on their arm. The smile on their face was an adamant indication they were more than happy with their time here, something you always delighted in, being very passionate about your job as a florist.
“Thank you, and please come again!” The bell overhead gave a gracious chime at the customer’s departure.
With them gone, you drew your attention back to the flowers laid out on the small wooden table in the corner of the shop. Before the customer came in, you were at work arranging and crafting the blossoms you purchased from the flower market that morning into bouquets.
You’d be closing in about an hour and thirty minutes or so, but for now, you basked in the silence and the calming aroma of the flowers that surrounded you while you continued your work. A modest hum naturally sang past your lips and soothed its way into the shop that was devoid of all souls except yourself.
“Hm, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” You made some small talk with the rose in your hand. It was a habit of yours to spill a few words out within your own little world, imagining the flowers were keeping you company whenever you were alone.
“And there, now you all look even prettier.” An adoring smile embellished your lips as you finished off another bouquet by tying it with a silk ribbon. Looking over the bundle one more time, you thoroughly admired the shades of pinks and reds that complimented each other in the ensemble.
Then two more bouquets down, and you already made a good amount of progress. You figured that if you kept up the pace, you’d likely finish the rest of the batch and have them ready for display tomorrow. But just as you clasped three more flowers in your hand, the bell atop the door chimed, alerting you to a new patron.
You nicked off a thorn from one of the stems before turning around and giving your attention to the visitor. When your eyes found their way to the shop’s entrance, you were surprised to meet a man of slicked white and red hair. The few strands that found their way out of the gel must have been tussled from a long day of work considering the fatigue plain on his handsome face.
Despite the few wrinkles here and there, his attire was still surprisingly pristine. He wore a simple yet compelling suit, the fit seeming tailored to the contours of his body that rendered you a tad speechless at how good he looked just standing there. The sight almost made you feel underdressed.
You hadn’t realized you were staring for longer than you deemed appropriate. You couldn’t help it, being that the stranger was a stark contrast to the regular customers you were used to. The fanciest you’ve encountered since you opened your shop were the young boys that rushed in with nicely fitted tops and jeans, frantically inquiring about what kinds of flowers were right to give to a girl for a date they had later that day. Not anything like attractive businessmen in immaculate suits and shining silver wristwatches that surely cost more than all the flowers you tended here.
Noticing you were gawking, you blinked thrice to knock yourself out of your trance and properly greet the man.
“H-Hello, welcome to Neighborhood Lily,” you said, mustering the politest tone you could give to make up for the awkward moment of wordless eye contact. You must have kept your eyes on him for what felt like a good five minutes at least. The man, in turn, acknowledged you with a small grin, much to your relief.
“How may I help you this evening?”
“I’m…” he hesitated, seeming wary of how he wanted to go about his next choice of words, “just looking for now,” he decided.
Not paying much mind to his hesitation, you nodded. “Oh, well, if you have any questions or need any help on anything, please let me know. I’ll just be around the corner!”
Allowing him to go about his business, you returned to your table of flowers and oversaw the blossoms again. However, it was difficult for you to busy yourself with the task at hand. The mere thought of the other presence in the shop was enough to hammer you out of your concentration.
He was already a compelling figure on his own, what with his good-looks accompanied by his classy ensemble that felt more than out of place here. But what you were especially curious about was what business he had at a humble flower shop like yours during this hour.
That curiosity led your eyes straying to the side, where you peeped the man walking through the small aisle of flowers. He examined the bouquets and vases on display, even showing interest in the more decorative pieces hung in pots from the ceiling.
You tried to determine what his motives were. He was showing some considerable intrigue at your arrangements, though perhaps it was pure admiration for your work, and you were letting your self-consciousness get to you.
Well, spying would just get you nowhere, you thought. One way or another, he’d answer your curiosity by either coming to you directly or leave the shop altogether. You had to admit you hoped more for the former.
Until then, you tore your gaze away and resumed gathering flowers in your hands. You assessed their compatibility with one another while you fiddled around with their placement in the bouquet. The white lilies and the blue lilacs went very well, along with another set of light violet lilacs you couldn’t help but string into the bundle. As a result, the beautiful balance of cool tones made for an exceptional well-made bouquet. You finished the piece with a matching white satin ribbon and then let the arranged flowers thrive inside a glass vase.
“Those are very pretty.”
Startled at the voice, you whipped your head around, hands braced behind you against the edge of the wooden table. Your untimely lack of words were a result from realizing the owner of the voice was closer than you anticipated.
The businessman went from lingering around the aisle of flowers in the middle of the shop, to appearing in your proximity.
“E-Excuse me?” you asked, wondering if you heard correctly to which he pointed at the bouquets laid finished on the table. “In fact, all the flowers here are exceptionally beautiful.” He gestured to the entirety of the shop. His eyes quickly roamed across all the decorative flourishes before they came back to you.
“You do excellent work here in your shop.”
Words coming from a man like him made you bashful. You subconsciously played with the hem of your apron, eyes drifting to anywhere but his face at the compliment. However, the sliver of heat fluttering to your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Oh, um, thank you. It’s nothing really, I’ve been arranging flowers for quite some time while at the last floristry I worked for so I have a fair amount of experience.”
After another second of fiddling with the fabric, your hands ended up falling to your sides. You sauntered toward one of the flower vases that were already set on display, dawdling around the conversation. His eyes followed you, watching you nurture the blossoms. “I opened this flower shop of mine just recently actually. Been getting a decent amount of business here and there, but I’m just glad that the people who’ve visited so far like my work,” you told him, twirling a strand of your hair. The pads of your other hand brushed against the soft, abundant petals of a yellow chrysanthemum.
The man observed your actions, analyzing your face. He distinguished the devotion hidden in your eyes as you looked upon the flower with a luster. Despite your humble character, it was more than clear to him you were very passionate about what you did, relishing in the ambiance and admiring the modest appearance of this little shop of yours, covered in the wonderful aroma of flowers.
You didn’t detect that deep breath of air he earnestly drew in as he stepped closer. So close that his proximity broke your stupor to meet his rigid expression.
“How would you feel about an… opportunity to let more of your work be known?”
“An opportunity?” you echoed. “Wait… do you maybe have a wed—”
“No,” he interjected, so abruptly that you couldn’t help but quirk a brow. Catching himself, he took a moment to clear his throat, mindful of his behavior. “I mean, it’s not a wedding. Rather, a charity gala that my company has been planning for some time.”
“A gala?” Your mouth worked faster than your mind, accidentally blurting out your thoughts. The astonishment was evident in your tone; it made the man question your reaction by leaning in.
“Yes, a gala,” he said again like you didn’t just hear his words from a foot away, without even realizing the lengths behind his baffling offer. “Is there something wrong about that?”
“N-No. It just wasn’t the kind of opportunity I expected it to be is all… A gala…” Your voice hushed around the utter of “gala”.
What the man presented so blatantly was unexpected to your ears. Galas meant a pompous party full of people decked in lavish attires, drinking quality champagne from tulip glasses. Sizing up the man again, you could only imagine this gala would only include the most important and wealthiest people in attendance.
You had to ask something, “Um, about this gala... How many people will be there?”
“Maybe about... five hundred or so? I’ll have to check in with my assistant to confirm the full count again.” He shrugged nonchalantly and yet on your end, hearing the number almost reduced your head to a dizzy mess.
Five hundred guests? It was a number you couldn’t fathom. You hadn’t even been booked for an occasion as ordinary as a baby shower, but this man wanted you to arrange flowers for his big charity gala?
As oddly enticing of a job it was to you, there had to be anyone else more experienced and capable for this.
“Sir, I’m not su—”
“The pay, of course, will be more than generous, and I’ll even provide you funding for any necessary materials for this project,” he chimed in before you could voice your protest. It was then that you began to distinguish something laced in his voice and exhibited on his face.
Desperation.
This man seemed desperate for some reason.
“May I ask when the event will take place?” Your arms crossed against your chest. A gulp formed in his throat at the question, unsure if he wanted to unveil the news or risk scaring you off. Either way, if you were working for him, you’d learn eventually. A sigh came out.
“Two weeks,” he answered.
Oh yeah, that explained it. It also answered any questions you had over the tension rigid in his shoulders. At this point, you were bound to join him in his stress because, goddamn, organizing a whole assembly of flowers for a grand ball within fourteen days? The idea was beyond daunting.
While you reflected on the intimidating pieces of information, he was gauging your reaction. Would you say yes? No? Laugh at the idea that he thought he could find a florist to work for him at such late notice? There were a slew of uncertainties twisting in his head—an act unbecoming of him, but you were his last hope. Whatever you responded with next would either be the nail in his coffin or the wings that made him soar.
You would be treading on uncharted waters at a chance like this, having never sailed anywhere beyond your little island of floristry where people came and went with your humble little arrangements. But you also thought of this as a daring opportunity to find new land. See what the world had in store for you outside of selling the general bouquets and vases you had on display. Plus, when would a chance like this ever come up again?
Though it meant encountering difficulties along the way, taking on such a big challenge right off the bat, you figured you’d be able to keep your boat afloat. You were also sure the journey toward bigger regions would be worth the struggle in the end.
“So do you have your answer?” he pressed forward when your silence became unbearable to his nerves. He thanked the fact that his voice managed to sound steady enough not to give himself away. Your arms remained crossed in front of you, your hand coming beneath your chin the only sign that you were taking his offer to heart. It kept the flickering flames of hope blazing inside him.
“I just want to ask you something,” you replied. He nodded, allowing you to continue.
“I know you’re under pressure with this gala coming up in only two weeks,” you began. Your arms unraveled, and your fingers ran to your apron again. You formed the next bit of words with uncertainty, “but are you sure I’m the right person for this job? I mean, I don’t have much to offer you in terms of skill other than what I have here.” You nudged at the range of your shop, plain as can be though with a generous amount of flourishes on display. Yet nothing you thought special enough to be graced by him and his grand proposal that evening.
“I just don’t want you to regret your decision.”
There was a pause of silence after that. The man seemed to give your words some thought—a quick reflection on the situation. You couldn’t decipher much in his face, but you happened to take some time to admire how pretty his eyes were. The individual blue and gray shades were mesmerizing to you, resembling glaciers glittering beneath the moon high in the north. Another detail you jotted in his long list of attractive features. Before you could marvel at them any further, he whisked your thoughts back to earth with his response.
“It’s true that I’m coming to you because I’m in need,” he admitted, hands slowly closing into fists like he was reluctant to confess this, “but from what I can see, I genuinely think you’re more than capable for this job. So yes, I’m very sure I won’t regret this decision.”
It was clear to you that he was sure on his stance. But to reinforce his statement, he bent his head low into a bow, weight added to his next words.
“Please be the florist for our gala.”
The gesture briefly overwhelmed you, not something you were expecting, but you managed to acknowledge it by returning the bow.
“I’ll be in your care then.”
With all things said, you were soon tidying up the exchange and trading business cards. Yours was a standard card with your number, name, and business attached with a picture of a lily printed across the paper. His, a premium slip of stainless steel engraved with his information and then some, the fancy card reflecting off the lights hanging from the ceiling. You read the name etched in ebony black over the gray material.
Todoroki Shouto — CEO
“You’ll likely receive a call from either one of my assistants or me within the next day or so about when to meet up to plan for the arrangements.” Shouto’s voice brought your head up from the card, where you watched him glide toward the door.
“R-Right, I’ll leave my cell on,” you stuttered. The fact that this whole exchange had just transpired was still kicking in for you.
Shouto nodded, extending a wave out that you mirrored while he opened the door to the shop, the bell chiming above him.
“I’ll see you then.”
After that, the resonating tinkles of the bell were the last you heard.
You stared at the entrance aimlessly, mouth gradually gaping open at the mere prospect that you were really about to arrange your flowers for a grand charity gala in two weeks!
A mixture of elation and jitters erupted in your body all at once, uncontained as you whipped your head around and strode across your shop in giddy steps. Your eyes lit up at the steel card gripped between your fingers, clenched so tightly like you were worried the card would turn to dust when you woke up from this dream. But at the wide smile that bloomed on your lips, you knew that this was reality. This man, Todoroki Shouto, was giving you the opportunity to have your true potential shown at this big gala.
Meanwhile, on his way back to his Mercedes, Shouto was clicking open his phone. The screen beamed at him in the low light of the evening turning to night while he punched a number from his contacts list. It took only the cusp of the second ring for the person on the other line to pick up his call.
“Midoriya, call off the search,” Shouto commanded into his phone. He rested his back on the door of his car, leaning against it with his phone still attached to his ear. His gaze found its way back to the flower shop he had just departed, eyeing the light emitting from the windows to the sign hanging above them. Grinning, he took in the sight of the flowers dancing in the wind around the shop’s vicinity before finding your silhouette standing in the benevolent light inside.
“We have our florist.”
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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years
Text
Home (Modern!Ivar x reader)
A/N: This is my entry for @maggiescarborough​‘s 400 Followers Challenge. Congrats again, love 🌺
This is another silly, fluffy thing. It’s probably boring, sorry 😔
Since Ivar is undoubtedly a Scorpio, this story takes place in November 😉
The prompt: surprising the character on their birthday.
@geekandbooknerd​, thanks for beta reading this for me ♥️ And @inforapound​, thanks for helping me out ♥️
Thanks to google translate too 😉 jeg er allerede begyndt at lære dansk: I've already started to learn Danish.
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
Divider by @firefly-graphics​
Summary: On his birthday, Ivar is in a very bad mood. The only present he wants is you, but there is an ocean between you two.
Warnings: Ivar’s bad temper (is that ever a warning??); soft, soft Ivar; fluff+++.
Words: 3209
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When his phone rings, Ivar's first thought is to throw it across the room. Looking down, he then sees the name on the screen and closes his eyes. Snippets of his days run through his mind: how he had snapped at Ubbe – I don't give a shit about what you're saying, brother; how his outburst had brought to tears his new personal assistant – if you don't even know how to make a fucking coffee, I should probably fire you; how Harald, his longtime business partner, had hung up on him, angering him even more – you may be smart, Ivar, but when you're such in a bad mood, you're worthless. I'll call you tomorrow.
 Ivar knows he needs to calm down. He's so pissed off – at everything – that his right quadriceps is constantly spasming, his thigh as hard as rock. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he sighs loudly, pinches the bridge of his nose and eventually grabs his phone.
 "Mor?" He's sure his mother won't fail to notice the hint of sharpness in his voice. She won't acknowledge it, though, used to his temper.
 "Hello Darling." There's a tremendous amount of love packed in those two little words, yet it doesn't bring a smile on his stern face. "I just wanted to let you know that Sven is on his way. He left Kattegat forty minutes ago. He is going to take you home."
 Clenching his jaw, Ivar stops himself from telling his mother that Kattegat, for him, is no longer home. Not anymore. The truth is, he doesn't know where home is. Home isn't his luxurious loft in in the very center of Copenhagen either. Home should be where you are. But you're so far away…
Ivar clears his throat. "I still don't get it, Mor. Why should I go with your chauffeur? You do know I can drive, don't you?"
 "Oh, honey, of course I do. But we've been over this, remember? You had to work the whole day, on your birthday, and I just want you to relax. Traffic can be brutal this time of day. Just let Sven bring you home. Maybe take a nap in the backseat, or just allow your thoughts to wander. I want you to be rested tonight, sweetheart." His mother pauses for a few seconds, and when she speaks again, her words are careful, her tone almost hesitant – so unlike her, his heart softens a little. "You did pack a bag, didn't you?"
 Ivar can't help but roll his eyes and then settles his gaze on a brown leather duffel bag right next to his mahogany desk. He knows that whatever his mother might expect, he won't stay the night. And if she doesn't allow Sven
to drive him back to Copenhagen, he will just call a cab. He won't argue about it right now, though – everything in its own time.
 Letting out a small sigh, Ivar nods uselessly, a hand running through his hair. "Yes Mor, I did."
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  Sven knows better than to talk to him and, in the backseat, as the car speeds down the highway, Ivar closes his eyes and tries to relax. Anger still coursing through his veins, it turns out it's a nearly impossible task. It seems as if everything has gone wrong since he woke up and he's therefore mad at the whole world. He's mad at all those stupid, infuriating people he had to interact with. He's mad at Sven for taking him to Kattegat. He's mad at his mother for inviting him for his birthday. He's mad at himself for accepting. He's even mad at you, for not being here; for not making the impossible possible. For leaving him alone. And no matter if deep down he knows how unfair it is to you; because of course, you'd be here if you could. But he can't help it. He's mad at you because he misses you, every day a little more, to the point where the ache in his heart is far worse than the pain in his legs.
 And today, he misses you like crazy. To the point where sadness floods his mind. To the point where anger takes control. Because today may be his birthday, but it's also the anniversary of your first kiss, first and foremost. And he wants you here, right next to him, for now and forever.
  Fourteen months ago, after yet another surgery, and because even if he knew all too well that he couldn't stay by himself while recovering, the mere thought of his mother's overprotective presence made him nauseous, he had flown – fled – to Canada, to Floki's. The old fool had welcomed him with open arms, turning one of the many guest rooms of his house into a high-tech physiotherapy space. That's where he met you. At first, you had been just his physical therapist, then his date, his girlfriend, and now you are his lover. And if he's back in Denmark for nine months now, you're still in Canada. He had thought he could handle a long-distance relationship. He couldn't have been more wrong. Your absence just kills him.
 As a boat whistle can be heard, Ivar slowly opens his eye and then looks around. Frowning, he scratches his head, confused and annoyed. Since the Lothbrok mansion is located on a hill overlooking Kattegat, there's never any reason to go by the seaside to get there. Never ever. "We're on the wrong road, Sven. Why are you going to the shore?" Ivar speaks in a demanding tone of voice that doesn't impress Sven one bit.
 The obedient chauffeur barely shrugs. "I'm just following orders, Sir. Your mother's orders."
 Now riled up, irked, Ivar snorts, his nostrils flaring. "My mother asked you to drive me here?" Without waiting for an answer, he takes his phone out of his back pocket, gasping as Sven comes to a halt in front of The Nimb Hotel, the hotel palace of Kattegat.
 When his mother doesn't pick up the phone, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, he tries to get ahold of Hvitserk, Ubbe, and even Sigurd, but to no avail. Fuming, his hands curling into fists, Ivar clenches his teeth. Did his mother organize a fucking birthday party even though she knows he hates that? She wouldn't dare. No, she wouldn't.
 Oh, fuck. Sure, she would. She totally would. And it'd explain why she had been so adamant about having Sven drive him. She wanted him here, in this fucking hotel, and not at the mansion. It explains why his brothers don’t answer the phone. Because they know that if they did, he would yell at them to fuck off. He can’t believe it!! What’s got into his mother?? What the fucking hell??!!!!
 For a split second, he hovers a trembling pointer finger over the screen of his phone. Calling an Uber and going back to Copenhagen would be so easy. But as tempting as it may be to just run away, he knows he won't do it. He can't. Because it'd hurt his beloved mother, and the thought is unbearable, even though he's angry with her right now. That's why, whatever she may have planned, he'll deal with it, putting on a brave face for her sake.
 And that's why he doesn't object when Sven opens his door, "This way, Sir," his hand gesturing toward the hotel entrance, flanked by two ostentatious marble columns. Ivar uses his hands to place his right leg out of the car and he then slowly stands up, one hand on his crutch and the other on the car door, before following the gray-haired chauffeur, a permanent scowl on his face.
As they walk through the lobby, he is surprised when Sven leads him onto an elevator, pressing the twelfth-floor button. He would have thought that his mother would have privatized the hotel restaurant. But the restaurant is on the main floor. What's on the upper floors other than rooms? A roof terrace, probably. His mother would never throw an outdoor party in the middle of November though. Nothing makes sense.
 Confused, Ivar tilts his head while the lift is going up. "Where are we going?" Sven doesn't react to his harsh tone, just repeating his reply from earlier. "I'm following orders, Sir. I am walking you to where your mother ordered me to walk you." He doesn't utter another word, getting out of the elevator as soon as the door opens.
 Ivar tightens his grip on his crutch and follows him to what seems to be a hotel room. Or more specifically, and as it's written on the door, the executive suite. More and more bewildered, he watches Sven swiftly knocking on the door before using a card key to unlock it. Holding it open, the chauffeur steps aside, "I've been asked to tell you that the sunroom is over there," waving his hand slightly to the left, Sven then gives a slight nod to an astounded Ivar, "I now take my leave, Sir. I wish you a delightful evening."
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  As Ivar slowly crosses the living room, the slight thud of his crutch on the hardwood floor alerts you of his presence. Shivering with excitement and your heart pounding in your chest, you struggle but don't move, don't say a word; not yet.
 Taking a tentative step into the sunroom, which, he's sure of it, offers during daytime a breathtaking view on the bay of Kattegat, a dumbfounded Ivar notices the candles first – there are candles everywhere, their soft glow creating an intimate ambience – and then the table for two elegantly set in the middle of the room.
 "What the fuck is going on?" Ivar grumbles, irritation obvious in his voice, and you know it's time for you to show up, or he may leave. Stepping toward him and into the light, you absently rub your sweaty palms up and down your black dress, your heart now beating so hard and so fast you wonder if he can hear it. This is it. The moment you were waiting for, for weeks now. You couldn't be happier, and yet you can't help but be nervous. Could he reject you? You don't think so but with Ivar, you never know… Swallowing the lump in your throat, and even if you can barely breathe, you manage to crack a smile at the exact moment he sets his eyes on you. "Happy birthday, my love, and happy anniversary too."
 Ivar's jaw drops, his eyes widen, and a soft gasp escapes his plump lips. He wobbles for an instant and you quickly close the gap between you and him, steadying him by placing both your hands on his hips. Your touch shaking him out of his stupor, he blinks a few times, his piercing blue eyes never leaving your face. "Y/N, is it… is it really you?" With a trembling voice and tears in his eyes, he stutters, dazed and surprised. "By the gods, what… what are you doing here?" His arm finding your waist, Ivar pulls you closer. There's a whirlwind of emotions on his face, but there's mostly love. You're sure he won't reject you.
 "Did you really think I was going to miss your birthday?" Standing on tiptoes, you give him a long kiss before whispering in his ear, "And I missed you so much, my love."
 Rough fingers caress your face as Ivar looks down at you incredulously. "But… I… I don't understand… I… I thought you were busy with work. But you're here… How?"
 "By plane, obviously," you quip playfully, and your lover rolls his eyes and shakes his head, before suddenly frowning. "That's really a wonderful surprise, Y/N, and I'd love to stay here with you but we… we should go… My mother… I think she's waiting for me, for us… You know, since it's my birthday, she wanted to throw…" Ivar stops talking when it dawns on him that he has been – to his delight – tricked, and you just smile. "Mother never planned a party, did she?"
 It's your turn to shake your head. "No, she never did, you're right. She knew I was coming and since I needed a little help, she agreed to play along. Tonight, it's just you and me, my love." Ivar's eyes sparkling with joy, your smile grows wider. "She's expecting us for lunch tomorrow, though."
 Nodding, Ivar flashes you a beaming smile that falters almost immediately as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. As he stifles a hiss of pain, you wrap his right arm around your shoulder and your left around his waist. Without a word, you lead him to a corner of the sunroom, help him to sit down on a huge nest chair and finally breathe a sigh of satisfaction as you snuggle into his side.
 His hand running up your arm, Ivar cups your face and looks at you fondly. "You being here with me is the best birthday gift ever." He then kisses you passionately, his hands roaming your back and your fingers threading through his long hair. When he breaks the kiss, he still holds you close and you lean into his warmth, your head resting on his chest.
 "When are you flying back?" Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, Ivar clenches his jaw as you pull away just enough to look at him. You know he hates the idea of you leaving him once again. You don't have time to answer him as he keeps going. "Guess you'll stay through the weekend, but when is your flight? On Monday morning?"
 A mischievous smile playing on your lips, you wrap your fingers around his hand. "There's no flight, Ivar, not anymore. I'm not going anywhere. I'm afraid you're stuck with me, my love."
 Swallowing, Ivar just stares at you for long seconds, a frown on his confused face. "What… What are you talking about? If this is a joke, it's a very bad one." He eventually manages to say, his bottom lip trembling.
 "I swear it's not a joke." You reassure him as you readjust your position, straddling him carefully. Your thumb stroking his cheek, you give him a quick peck before explaining yourself. " I hate our current situation, and I know you do too. I don't want to live like this anymore, between two flights, between two countries. I don't want to miss you anymore. My life is with you, my love. And since you can't exactly relocate the Lothbrok Company, it's up to me to move, which I'm happy to do."  
 Dumbstruck, Ivar remains speechless for a long time, but you can tell by the smile on his lips that he's thrilled by the news. Tilting his head, he finds his voice again. "You are serious? Wow! You do realize you'll have to find a new job, learn another language? That's not nothing."
 "Actually," you place your hands flat on his chest, "I've already found a job. Floki still has strong connections here, did you know that? On the same day I made up my mind, he was already making calls. He has been amazing, truly! I start working in a rehab clinic within a fortnight. As for the language…", you stop and inhale deeply before saying hesitantly, "jeg er allerede begyndt at lære dansk." Ivar's wry smile tells you that your pronunciation could have been better, but you don't mind. It's a first step. "Anyway," you exclaim, beaming, "You know me, I love a challenge!"
 "I just can't fucking believe it!" Ivar shines with happiness and it melts your heart. His next question, though, makes you wince internally. Because on that particular point, you're suddenly afraid you've put the cart before the horse.
 "Where are you going to live?"
 Lowering your gaze, you begin to fidget nervously. "I…", you clear your throat, closing your eyes, "I was thinking… well… Maybe I could… I don't know if…" As soon as you realize you're getting nowhere, you stop; you know you have to muster up the courage to be straightforward. Releasing a short sigh, you tilt your head up. "I was hoping we could live together. I mean if you want to. It's fine if you don't, I'll rent an apartment."
 Literally thunderstruck, his eyes fixed on you, Ivar swallows loudly. "You… You…" He stammers, an incredulous expression on his face. "You want to live with… with me?"
 As you nod while muttering under your breath "Only if you want to," a broad smile spreads over his lips and he blinks a few times. "Of course, I do. But you do know that", his sheepish look is unmistakable, "I'm not exactly easy to live with, right?"
 Relief floods through you and you burst out laughing as you remember what he put you through when you were his physical therapist. "I do know you, my stubborn, grumpy, short-tempered and moody lover! And guess what, my love? I wouldn't want you any other way. Plus, as I said, I love a good challenge!"
 Without even trying to hide his elation, Ivar throws his arms around your waist, giggling, "It's a deal, then," before peppering light kisses all over your face. His mouth barely an inch from yours, he's about to kiss you as your stomach rumbles. Embarrassed, you want to hide your face but Ivar, all smiles and laughing eyes, grasps your hands, squeezing them. "Guess we should feed you."
 Checking your watch, you stand up reluctantly. "Actually," you point at the table behind you, "we should be served a meal in less than five minutes." Reaching out, you grab Ivar's left hand as he hauls himself to his feet, handing him his crutch once you're sure he found his balance.
 Now towering over you, Ivar gives you a thank-you smile. "So, tell me Y/N, what's the plan for tonight? Besides dinner, I mean." The naughty grin adorning his features tells you the answer he's hoping for.
 "Well," you can't resist teasing him, "I was thinking maybe we could take an after-dinner walk on the shore afterwards, and later, there's this wonderful documentary about penguins I wouldn't want to miss, so yeah, that's the plan."
 "Ooooh, look at you!" You can't help but laugh your head off as Ivar's smile falters, a crease forming between his eyebrows and pouty lips shouting his displeasure. "I'm just kidding, my love," you soothe him, your thumb grazing his mouth, "there's this whirlpool-bath I'm dying to try in the bathroom if you're up for it. And after that, I'm going to make love to you, my birthday boy." Ivar's breath hitches as your hands squeeze his butt cheeks playfully. "And then we'll sleep. And tomorrow we'll go and have lunch with your mother. And when we're done there, you'll…" Overwhelmed with emotion, you stop, your eyes filling with tears.
 "I'll…?" Ivar asks as a crooked smile tugs at his lips.
 You swallow away the lump in your throat, intertwining your fingers with his. "You'll take me home, won't you?"
 There are tears in his eyes as well, but when Ivar nods, the smile that flashes over his face is a wide, shining one. "Yes, my love, I'll take you home."
 🛡⚔️🛡
@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @inforapound​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @peachyboneless​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @ethereallysimple​ @destynelseclipsa​ @coco2315​ @mlchael-guerin​ @pieces-by-me​ @xceafh​
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Text
Star Trek - Leonard "Bones" McCoy x reader - Southern Charm - Words: 3,556
A/N: While I did write this with TOS in mind, I do believe it is fairly AOS compliant as well. Enjoy!
"Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/N, Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Serenity."
"Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Doctor L/N. I'm Captain James T. Kirk. This is my first officer, Commander Spock and our CMO, Doctor McCoy. We're looking forward to having you as the first trainee in the Starship Exchange Training program."
"Pleasure to meet you all. And I'm looking forward to it as well," You replied, stepping off the transporter pad. You gave the Captain a handshake, the First Officer a Vulcan salute and then turned to the grumpy looking CMO.
"How old are you?" He demanded to know.
"Old enough," You assured him, crossing your arms. "Why do you ask?"
"Just don't see many youngsters like you with that rank," He trailed off, leaving the statement open ended.
"Well, I happen to be an outlier. Or haven't you heard of that, Doctor? Besides, I'm not that young," You replied, curtly. You didn't often become confrontational this quickly but questions on your age and suspicions on how you got your rank were a sore spot for you.
"Just because I have to train you doesn't mean I have to like it," McCoy grumbled.
"I never asked you to." You quickly grabbed your bag that was transported with you and walked to the doors. Just before you stepped out to the hallway, you turned back around. "Captain, Commander, have a good evening. I am looking forward to working with you two over the next few weeks. Don't worry, I know where my quarters are. Doctor, I will see you at 6."
As you unpacked your bag, you thought over what happened in the transporter room. You had really been looking forward to this training and you had heard many great things about the Doctor. Of course, you had also heard he was a bit of a grump, but you hadn't thought it was this bad! You decided to stay in your room for the rest of that evening, as it was already late when you arrived, and try for a fresh start in the morning.
"Are you out of your mind? I'm a doctor, not an assassin!"
"I was simply saying, Doctor McCoy, that Starfleet medical personnel are completely untrained in self defense techniques! We are trained to save lives, not take them. That I completely agree with. But we must also be trained how to defend and disable. Defend ourselves, disable our opponents. Otherwise we may become a hindrance to any away missions we get assigned on!"
"Look, even if you're right, and you're not, when would we have the time to train?" He yelled. "Have you ever been to medical school? Do you know how stressful that is?"
"Of course I went to med school! I happened to graduate top of my class! And I remember very clearly how stressful it is! But they need to make it work! Even another month would be enough for most!"
"Another month?" He screeched. He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed his forehead. "Look, I have plenty of training to defend myself in the field. Let's just agree to disagree and get this over with."
"Alright, Doctor," You sighed. The first 2 weeks of training slowly passed with the only change in attitude being on your side. You'd gotten to disliking the Doctor as much as he disliked you. Every day you trained was near constant arguing and insulting.
Unbeknownst to you, Kirk had started taking bets from the senior crew members on when in the final week you two would get together. Whoever won would get 3 days vacation. The current bets on Kirk's paper were:
Uhura: As she steps on the transporter to leave Thursday
Scotty: Monday
Chekov: End of shift Tuesday
Sulu: Beginning of shift Wednesday
Spock: At precisely 07:35 in the evening Friday
Kirk looked oddly at Spock when he submitted his estimate. "Spock, you do realize she is scheduled to leave Thursday afternoon."
"Yes, Jim."
"So why-"
"I have my reasons."
"Logical, I'm sure."
"Quite. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm needed in engineering."
"Ok, Spock. But don't get your hopes high about any vacation!"
Monday: Scotty's Day
You got up early and headed down to the rec room to get breakfast. Usually you had breakfast in your room but this morning, oddly enough, Scotty had invited you to join him for breakfast. Once you entered the rec room you mentally groaned. Of course McCoy would be there!
"Good morning, Scotty," You greeted, walking up to his table which was unfortunately right next to Kirk, Spock, and McCoy's table.
"Aye! And an even lovelier morning with you here, lassie!" You blushed slightly, surprised at the engineer's comment.
"Oh please!" You scoffed. You were about to walk away to the replicators to get your food when Spock cleared his throat.
"I believe Mister Scott is correct, Doctor. Your hair and makeup accentuate your natural beauty quite well."
"Spock!" You, Kirk and McCoy gasped at the same time.
"Look here," You finally said, gathering your composure. "I appreciate a compliment here and there but really! I'm going to go get my breakfast and I don't want to hear one more peep out of any of you when I return! Understand?" They all nodded and stuck to their word, not another compliment for the rest of the day.
Tuesday - Chekov's Day
Your shift had gone fairly well. Training with Doctor McCoy was finally becoming almost bearable and there hadn't been any major disasters. "Doctor, was there anything else you needed me for today?" You asked, stepping into the open doorway of his office.
"No, you can go if you'd like," He sighed, not lifting his eyes from his PADD.
"Is something troubling you, Doctor?"
"Just a lot of paperwork, darlin'," He said absently. You blushed brightly and he quickly tried to correct himself. "I mean, Doctor. Sorry." He finally looked at you, face as red as yours. You nodded and attempted to make a hasty exit but you ran into a gold blur.
"Oh! Ezcuze me!" Chekov quickly said, helping you up. "I'm wery sorry! Are you hurt?"
"Only my pride, Pavel," You replied, dusting yourself off.
"What in blazes happened out here?" McCoy yelled, stomping out.
"Oh nothing, Doctor," You assured him.
"Well watch where you're going next time!" He ordered. With that he marched back to his office and closed the doors. You sighed and wished Chekov goodnight before leaving.
"No vacation," Chekov mumbled softly before leaving Medbay too.
Wednesday - Sulu's Day
You walked into Medbay to start your shift only to find Sulu already there. "What are you doing here so early?" You asked. "Your check-up isn't for another 45 minutes."
"I wanted to make sure I got here on time. You know how it is on the bridge sometimes," He chuckled. You nodded and chuckled lightly. You checked the schedule on the PADD and noticed the Ensign before him had cancelled.
"Well, Sulu, you just managed to get an early appointment. Step on up!" You had him sit on the nearest biobed and grabbed your Tricorder. As you started running over the usual check-up points, Dr. McCoy walked in.
"You're here early," He commented. Sulu nodded and you explained what happened. "Alright. Y/N, I'm going to leave you to it. I have a headache this morning and I think I'll just sit in my office for a bit with the lights down." You looked at him a little better, noticing how exhausted he looked. His hair was a mess and there were dark bags under his eyes. He may be a pain but he was still human and you felt for him.
"Did you need me to get you anything, Doctor?" You asked. He shook his head but groaned at the movement. "Just comm me if you need anything." He made a noise of agreement and you went on with Sulu's checkup.
Thursday - Uhura's Day
"Good morning, Y/N," Uhura greeted you in the turbolift on your way to Medbay.
"Good morning, Uhura," You replied abit sadly.
"You alright, sweetheart?"
"I'm going to miss you all. I love my ship and my crew, don't get me wrong, but," You trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself.
"You don't feel like family there?" She filled in. You nodded slightly. "Oh honey, I understand. Don't feel bad, alright? Who knows! Maybe you'll get a transfer one day even!"
"That would be nice I guess," You admitted. The doors swooshed open and as you stepped out, Dr. McCoy walked by.
"Doctor L/N," He said, sounding somewhat frustrated. "I need you to gather all the anti-toxin hypos we have."
"Of course. Is everything alright?"
"Spock just told me we're going on a mission tomorrow. He should have told me at least 2 days ago. The new colony on Oliza 6 sent out a distress call about 1 week ago saying that something was wrong. They said some of the younger people were having strange reactions to some of the foods."
"That's odd. Isn't the food on a planet usually tested first?"
"Yes but apparently they forgot to test on the younger adults. Blasted regulations. Test one adult you've tested them all." At this point you had nodded a silent goodbye to Uhura and started walking with Doctor McCoy down the hall. "Let's see if we can't find out what's on that planet and run some tests of our own. Might save some time."
"Doctor?" You said, somewhat hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"I do have to go back to my ship this afternoon. I," you paused. McCoy had finally started to be nice with you and now you had to go. You didn't want to upset him again on your last day. "I'll help as much as I can on the tests of course, Doctor, but I-"
"No, no," He said with a sigh. "I didn't realize it was Thursday." He smiled slightly and put his hand on your shoulder. "If you tell anyone what I'm about to say, I'll have to kill you," He joked. "Your work has been excellent. Your skill set is beyond your years and please don't take that wrong. You've impressed me." You blushed at his praise. "Of course, I still don't agree with the extra combat training," He added. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. "But I guess you're not so bad."
"Well thank you, Doctor. I, uh, I guess I'll get the hypos for you now."
"Oh, um, yes, thank you," he replied somewhat awkwardly. The rest of your shift went about the same. You and the Doctor awkwardly dancing around each other. Eventually, though, the time came for you to finish packing, and leave the Enterprise.
As you headed to the transporter room, Uhura came running up to you with a small package in her hands. "What's this?" You asked.
"Oh, just a little going away present that a few of us put together for you."
"That's really sweet of you. Thanks so-"
"Bridge to Lt. Uhura," The Captain's voice rang through her comm.
"Duty calls!" She exclaimed. "Keep in touch!"
"Will do!" You replied, heading off to the transporters. Once you got there though, you saw Scotty talking to the Captain through the comm. He seemed upset about something.
"But Captain! I-"
"Scotty, we need to help that colony. There's no time."
"Aye, Captain. Scott out," He sighed. "I cannae believe 'at."
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, lassie. I'm so sorry! The Captain just got an emergency message from Oliza 6. We're heading there straight away."
"So I'll be staying another night?"
"At least." Your brows furrowed in thought. While you did want to get back to your ship to start your transfer application, a few more days here was not all that bad.
"Ok," You replied. Scotty seemed surprised. "I'll just take this back to my room and then head to Medbay. They'll probably need me handy."
"Aye. I'll let the Captain and Doctor know." You nodded in reply and headed off. When you returned to Medbay, you could have sworn you saw a look of relief on McCoy's face.
"Doctor L/N," McCoy said. "I'm putting you in charge of Medbay for the time being." Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jim's put me on the landing party and you technically are the next ranking medical officer on this ship."
"Well, thank you, I guess," You said. "Have you made any progress on the tests?"
"I believe so," He pulled up some test results on his PADD and showed them to you. "The hobgoblin ended up helping me but he was actually of some use." He looked around furtively. "Don't tell him I said so though."
"I promise," you said seriously. You stared at each other for a moment before you both broke out into a fit of laughter.
"Really though, the fruits on Oliza 6 seem to be causing a buildup of adrenaline in their systems causing aggression, anxiety and heart problems."
"Hm, interesting."
"That's what the hobgoblin said," McCoy grunted. You chuckled and he finished explaining their plan to administer hypos to everyone. The comm suddenly whistled.
"Bridge to Dr. McCoy," Uhura said.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" He replied.
"The Captain is preparing to beam down now and would like you to meet him in the transporter room."
"Alright, I'm on my way." You followed the Doctor as he gathered a few last minute items from his office. When he grabbed his phaser from his desk you couldn't help yourself.
"Doctor, that phaser is last year's model. Didn't you get your new one?"
"Oh, must not've. I'll ask Scotty for one." He grabbed his communicator and flipped it open. "McCoy to Scott."
"Scott here. Whaddya need, Doctor?"
"L/N said my phaser is old. Got a new one for me?"
"Sure do, Doc. I'll have her all polished up for ya when ya get to the transporters. Just remember, this one's a wee bit more powerful than the last. She's got a bit of a kick!"
"Don't worry, Scotty, I'm sure I can handle it. McCoy out." You looked worriedly at him because, knowing his views on defense training and based on what he said, this new phaser would throw him for a loop.
"Doctor, perhaps you should just stay with your old pha-"
"Doctor L/N," He said stiffly. "I do not want to hear anything more about training. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. Please do not worry yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mission to attend to. Do you think you'll be able to handle Medbay while I'm gone?"
"Of course, Doctor McCoy," You snapped. You heard the Medbay doors swoosh closed and sighed, leaning on he's desk in his office. You closed the office doors and locked them, needing a moment to gather yourself. "Gah! That man is so annoying!" You yelled to yourself. "If he doesn't get himself killed on this mission-" you left your threat unfinished. "Oh! I could just kiss him," You seethed. "I mean, kick." You paused, mid-pace, and shook your head vigorously. Your brain had apparently taken a left turn without telling you. "Did I seriously just-and now I'm talking to myself. Ok, Y/N, get yourself together. You'll figure it out later." You finished your little pep talk and headed back out.
The first few hours were fine. One or two clumsy engineers with a few cuts and bruises. A sniffle here and a headache there. It was actually somewhat relaxing. You decided to be a little helpful and got some paperwork done for Dr. McCoy. As you sat in his office tapping away on your PADD, you found yourself lost in thought. You hoped he wouldn't be upset that you did some extra work for him. "That's not what I asked you to do, Doctor!" You mocked under your breath. Chuckling slightly you continued your quiet monologue, "Oh wouldn't he be upset if I ran a report on him. He definitely is overworked. He'd come in here, yelling and screaming in that adorable southern accent of his, and he would proba-" You interrupted yourself again. Staring off for a second, realizing what you just said. "Adorable? Good grief. I'm either unconscious or demented."
The rest of the shift went fairly well and you heard that the landing party was making good progress too. Finally you turned everything over to the night shift doctor and went to your quarters to get some rest before your shift began again in the morning. Your sleep that night was restless, though, and when your alarm went off you didn't think you had slept a wink.
Friday - Spock's Day
"Good morning, Doctor L/N," one of the nurses greeted you as you walked into Medbay.
"Good morning," You replied tiredly. "Anything on the schedule?" You asked as you got a cup of coffee from the replicator.
"No. Just a couple of vaccines that the nurses can take care of."
"Good. I'll be in the office if you need me then."
"Are you alright, Doctor?"
"Fine. Just couldn't sleep last night."
"Oh, I understand. I'm worried about Dr. McCoy too. As I understand, the reaction the youths are having is fairly viol-"
"I am not worried about the good doctor!" You yelled, angrily. "Just in case you didn't notice, he's not exactly my type. And even if he was, that is no concern of yours, nurse!"
"Permission to speak freely, Doctor?" She asked with a slight smirk.
"Of course," You replied, rubbing your forehead. "I'm not the dang Captain." She giggled lightly before replying.
"That's exactly what McCoy would say. No go get some rest. We'll hold down the fort, Doctor." With that she walked off to get a few things prepped for the day. As you walked into the office and sat down, you thought about her observation.
"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit."
A few hours later, after a short nap and another cup of coffee, you were reorganizing the supply room when Scotty called through on the comm. "Doctor L/N! We're gonna need a team down here immediately! The captain and Dr. McCoy were injured and we're beaming them aboard right now!"
"Ok, Scotty, we'll be right there, how serious is it?" You replied. Chills had run up your spine when he said Dr. McCoy had been injured but you kept yourself focused.
"The Captain's not too bad. I think he said a broken arm. Doctor McCoy though. He's in pretty rough shape."
"Alright. L/N out," You signed off. You started to grab emergency supplies and sent the emergency team down to the transporter room. Just like Scotty said, McCoy was in critical condition by the time you saw him. He was completely unconscious, had multiple broken ribs, a broken right arm, a fractured left leg, and a concussion. After about 3 hours in surgery, he was finally patched up. You looked at the chronometer and saw it was about 3 in the afternoon. Deciding that you needed to talk to him as soon as he woke, you opted to sit guard on a chair next to his bed.
"Doctor L/N?" A nurse called out. You opened your eyes with a start. Looking at the chronometer again you realized another 4 hours had passed.
"Has he woken up?" The nurse nodded. "Well why didn't you wake me?" You whisper yelled, not wanting to wake him now.
"For the same reason you're whispering now. He didn't want to wake you." You shook your head and looked back at him sleeping on the biobed. "His vitals are good and he will likely make a full recovery in about a week."
"Oh no! This doctor is getting a prescription for some real R&R for at least a month. He's been far too overworked." You immediately grabbed the PADD with his chart information and put him on medical leave for a month. The nurse smiled at you and shook her head.
"You know, you're technically off duty now. You can head back to your quarters."
"I think I'll stay here a bit longer," You said slowly, a blush rising to your cheeks.
"I thought so," She nodded. You settled back down in the chair and got a bit more paperwork done on your PADD. Looking at the chronometer again you saw it just turned to 7:33pm. You heard a groan from the bed and saw the Doctor waking up.
"Well hello there, darlin'," He smirked.
"Hello, Dr. McCoy," You smiled.
"Oh for Pete's sake, would you please just call me Leonard!"
"I'll consider it," You grinned. You stared at him for a moment, realizing again just how scared you had been.
"You alright, Y/N?"
"I was just so scared, Leonard," You admitted. "I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to tell you-" you stopped mid-sentence, nervous to continue.
"Tell me what?" You decided to chance it so you bent over and gave him a quick kiss. Standing up quickly, you looked away embarrassed. "Well, I'm not sure I understood. Can I hear that again?" He smirked. You smiled and leaned forward again for another kiss. You vaguely heard the doors open but neither you nor Leonard paid attention.
"So, any plans for your 3 days vacation, Spock?"
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