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moneymasnn · 2 years

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Our Chaotic little family| Charles Leclerc

Notes: This is around 4.5k words and ive not proof read it so im sorry in advance for that aha, also I dont speak French so im sorry if either anything is incorrect or the fact he his French and this is an English fic. But I hope you guys enjoy some protective dad!Charles xoxoxo

Blurb: One where you daughter gets a boyfriend, and Charles is not happy about it at all.

Warnings: Swearing, some small angst with angry Charles.

You and Charles had known each other since before you could remember, he had always been the boy next door that you had a huge crush on. After he set off on his formula 1 career you didn't see that much of him, thinking the ship had sailed, but somehow fate made it happen. You had been lucky enough to get to love each other when you were only young, Charles was 20, you were 19.

You both experienced the bittersweetness of young love, until eventually he was the man you wanted to spend every waking moment with, you were never sure if you wanted to ever get married or even have children for that matter, but with him it was different.

And here you were, you were married and had three children, and you couldn't ever think you could be more happy.

Your oldest, Leo, was now seventeen, his dad takes him out at least three times a week teaching him to drive. You hadn't had the confidence to let Leo drive you around yet, but you knew with Charles he would learn quickly, you knew because Charles was the first person to teach you to drive a car too.

Your third and youngest was little baby arthur, who earned his name after giving you the most chaotic pregnancy of them all. He was only seven years old, he had gotten a lot more better behaved with age but was still your little menace. Charles used to say that he would be a footballer when he was older considering how much he liked to kick your stomach. He was born three weeks early at the Monaco Grand prix. A story for another day, but even before Arthur was born he was a handful pregnancy so that's how it was an easy decision to name him after Charles' youngest brother, who was also a chaotic handful.

Your only little girl, Juliana or jules was fifteen turning twenty one. she was starting to experience the world of womanhood. She wasn't as much her daddys little girl as she got older, something Charles had grown to hate.

Jules was your best friend, you wanted her to have the comfort of knowing her mum was there for her throughout her whole life, something you never had growing up. She had recently told you about a boy she had grown to like, you knew she had been hiding something from you, so did charles. You knew she would tell you about this boy soon, Charles however was praying that her happy mood had nothing to do with the male species.

You were standing in the kitchen, baking some cookies for a birthday party for one pierres children and Arthur junior was helping you, and by helping he was just eating all the chocolate chips. It was a late sunny friday afternoon, the type of restful afternoon where Charles wasnt off racing that weekend, the kind of fridays you liked to hold on too.

Charles was talking Leo out for an afternoon drive and Jules was sitting on the sofa giggling at her phone like the giddy little love struck child she was.

Leo was scrambling around the house to find his lucky driving shoes and Charles came up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping his hands around your waist and leaning forward to kiss your temples. He looked up to see what you were looking at, but his brows furrowed when he was his little girl twirling her hair and giggling at her phone.

“What on earth could she be laughing at her phone like that for?” He said.

You rolled your eyes at your husband's words, spinning around and placing your hands on his chest. His eyes still glued on his daughter.

“Her friends probably sent her a funny video.” You tried to shrug it off, but Charles wasn't dropping it.

“Mon amour, I know that look.” He looked at you, shooting you a knowing look.

A smirk crawled on ur lips as you turned back around to watch your daughter who was now sprawled out on the sofa on her stomach, twirling her hair, biting her lip with her feet swinging in the air.

“What look?”

“You're her carbon copy, y/n. I know that look a little to well.” He glances at you with a knowing expression.

“Dad! I'm ready!” Leo's voice echoed around the kitchen causing Charles to kiss your lips quickly and whisper a goodbye.

“Papa! Gross!” Arthur shouted from where he was perched on the kitchen counter, an empty bag of chocolate chips in hands and the rest all around his mouth.

“I'll go to the shop for you on the way back or your chocolate chip cookies aren't going to be very chocolatey.” Charles said to you looking back at his son in gramance who was touching every surface in the kitchen with his chocolate covered fingers.

After Charles left you gave Arthur a bath, watching as he climbed in the bubbled filled tub with all his toys.

“Mama, is papa your boyfriend?” He asked you, just as you were about to exit the bathroom.

“No sweetheart-” you giggled at your son's randomness, “he's my husband, we got married long before you were born.” You perch down by the bath, dipping your fingers in the bath, splashing him slightly making him giggle.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Julie has a boyfriend.” he said, blowing some of the bubbles from the bath.

“How do you know that?” You knew it was wrong to get Arthur to tell you all the gossip, but he was a great little ear wiger.

It wouldn't be the first time he had told you and Charles a story that he had accidentally overheard. Like when Pierre and his wife first found out they were expecting another baby Arthur had accidentally overheard a private conversation about Pierre's wife not being able to drink alcohol, after that you and Charles added up the dots.

“She was saying she has a boyfriend on the phone, I heard Julie saying papa would be mad.”

You took a moment, so it was true, your daughter did have a boyfriend…

After getting Arthur out of the bath you decided to let him play with his toys in his room while you went to speak to your daughter, who still hadn't moved from her position on the couch. You decided to sit next to her and pry some information out of her before Charles got home.

“Soooo.” you said, pursing your lips, sitting across from her. She didn't even make the effort to look up at you, just a simple hum.

“Julianna.” you said sternly, that caught her attention as he raised her eyesight slightly.

“Yes, mother.” She sarcastically said, rolling her eyes at your use of her full name.

“Okay, if you want to be like that.” You said with a smirk, leaning over and switching off the phone and pushing it down onto the sofa.

“I just want to talk, you've seemed a bit… occupied at the moment.”

“I'm sorry I have friends.” she sarcastically said as she sat up, crossing her arms of her chest with a frown.

“Not only friends, I've been told you have a more than a friend.” You cringed as you said it, you were bad at this.

“That little shit! Authur told you he didn't.” she said, shocked.

“Language, missy! It doesn't matter who told me, but I want to know what's going on in your life, you can trust me.” You smiled, uncrossing her arms and talking her hand in yours.

“There's a boy…” she mumbled.

“Tell me, mon cheri.”

“He's not my boyfriend though.” You noticed the hit of sadness in her eyes as she looked down.

“It's silly, i know your going to tell me i'm too young-”

“I don't think you're silly, mon amour.” You said, pulling your arms open so she can rest her head on your shoulder.

“In fact, I probably understand more than anyone else.” you kissed the spot behind her ear, tucking her hair back as you could tell she wanted to listen to what had to say.

“You know, I was about, maybe fourteen when I fell in love with your father.”

She raised her head to look up at you, “Really?”

You nodded your head with a small smile at the time, “I don't think I knew at the time, but I always had a crush on the boy next door for as long as i could remember.”

“It took your father a little longer than me to realise he liked me back, he came and gate crashed my first proper date.”

“What?” She said with a smile as she begged you to tell her the story.

“Your father was such a romantic, he walked into the restaurant right as the mains came out and said there was a family emergency and he needed to take me home. Then we got in his car and I was all panicked wondering what the family emergency was and he just kissed me.” You couldn't stop the smile that formed on your lips as you told the story. It was all true, Charles had gate crashed your first proper date, and ever since you had both been inseparable.

“That's really sweet mum.”

“The point is, these things take time, especially love. I don't doubt your feelings for this boy if you say you have them, and if he feels the same he will show you sooner or later.” You smile at her, holding her closer.

“I really like him, mum.”

You were about to reply when Leo and Charles both stumbled through the door. You kissed Julianna on the head and stood up to see your husband smiling with slightly flushed cheeks and a bag of chocolate chips in his hands.

“How did your driving lesson go baby? You asked Leo, ruffling his long brown hair, the exact same way his father has it.

He just shot you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders and he looked over to his father who smiled slightly.

“Hes- hes learning, that's all that matters.” Charles said as he looked at Leo with a smile.

When Leo walked off to his room Charles followed you into the kitchen, placing the chocolate on the side.

You waited for Leo to be out of ear shot before Charles burst out with giggles in the kitchen.

“Was it that bad?” You smiled as Charles placed his head on your shoulder.

“Mon dieu, i'm just happy to get home in one piece.” he laughed as he brought you into a hug.

You watched as Charles noticed Jules was still on her phone, but he didnt question it this time, he decided he was going to have a shower and get into bed.

After you had made the cookies for tomorrow you decided it was time for bed too, you decided to check on the kids before you did, leo was playing on his xbox and you could hear julie was on the phone in her room so you left her alone. You could hear faint giggles from your room so you knew you didn't need to check on Arthur since he and Charles were curled up in bed watching a movie.

You smiled as you jumped in the shower, leaving the boys to watch their movie and by the time you were done Arthur was fast asleep on charles.

Charles looked up at you with a cheeky smile.

“He's excited for tomorrow, I told him Pierre got a bouncy castle for the party.”

You leaned over and gave your husband a long kiss on the lips.

“What was that for?” he smirked.

You shrugged before you got under the covers, pulling your book from your bedside table and putting on your glasses.

Charles watched as you put the goddamn glasses on that he loved so much.

That's when he got out of bed, pulling Arthur up with him, probably to put him to bed.

“I will be right back.” Charles whispered with a wink.

“I'll be waiting.”

The next day it seemed like a struggle to get everyone up and out the house. Arthur was ready first with Charles as they were both sitting on the sofa watching the tv. Jules had gotten changed about seven times and Leo was upset that he couldn't drive the whole family to uncle perrie's house. Charles just replied to his son with an honest answer that we all did want to make it to the party in one piece. And on the down side you hadn't felt the best all morning.

After putting on a small yellow summer dress you were ready to step out into the Monaco sun.

Pierre had three children also, Noah who was around Leo's age, the pair got on really well, they reminded you of Pierre and Charles when they were younger, Noah even had pierres charm and witty humour. And then there was arlo who was six, with only a few months age difference between him and arthur the pair got on really well, and pierres new baby layla, who was turning one today.

After finally managing to get everyone in the car and to Pierre's house you could relax slightly more. Pierre and Charles stood in the garden by the bbq with beer in each hand while you sat on a chair lounger with a smile on your face as you held the birthday girl layla.

You were reminiscing when Arthur was this small, when his whole hand would fit into your palm, but your smile never faded when you looked to see Charles smiling over at you. You held up Layla's hand and waved at him, and he waved back, his heart fluttering seeing you with another baby.

“Please don't tell me you have baby fever? Thinking about popping out another one.” Pierre nudged charles.

“What, no.” Charles blushed.

“So, you're all done then?”

“I don't know, we've never spoken about having more.”

“Well judging by the smile on her face, she's already thought about it.”

When charles turned back around to look at you he noticed you making your way from the garden to indoors, you had mentioned all morning that you haven't felt well, he could only assume you was going to be sick, judging by the look on your face he handed pierre his beer and ran down to the bottom of the garden to the patio doors to pierres garden.

When he walked through the doors he bumped straight into your back.

“Mon amour, are you feeling okay?”

But you never answered Charles' question, instead you stood with your mouth wide open looking over to the sofas in the corner of the room.

After seeing your attention was else where charles turned around to see what you were looking at, but his face flushed red when he was his precious little girl and pierres stupid son with his tounge down her throat.

“Oh no!” Charles shouted, his hand falling from your shoulder as he pointed at the two teenagers that had just been caught.

“No fucking way in hell, get your hands of my daughter gasly!” Charles shouted as the two teenagers scrambled to make as far distance between them both as possible.

“Noah is the boy you told me about?” Your mouth had been agape the whole time, you were not expecting that.

“You knew?!” Charles turned to you, his face still flsuhed as there was steam practically coming out of his ears.

“Well i- I didn't know it was Noah she was talking about.” You shouted back at charles.

“You told your mum about me?” Noah smirked at Jules as she blushed a deep shade of red and put her head down.

“Mum, dad you're really embarrassing me.” she said through gritted teeth and wide eyes.

“Don't look at her like that gasly or I swear to god I'm going to-” But as Charles went to make his way over to the young boy who was standing still behind the sofa. Pierre had come in after hearing all the competition from outside, placing his hands on Charles' chest as he pushed him back before Charles could finish his sentence.

“Why are you shouting?” Pierre said to his friend, “What's going on?” he asked as he turned to you.

“What is going on? Good question pierre, what the fuck is going on, both of you!” Charles pointed to the two guilty teenages in the corner, that's when Pierre turned around and had figured out what was happening.

Pierre was trying to stifle his giggles as he looked at his son, his best friend's daughter and back to his best friend.

“No way! This is great, Jules is a great girl Noah, I'm happy for you!” Pierre exclaimed and turned to smile at you, you just nodded at the man with a smile. At least one of them was happy.

“What? No!” Charles looked back at Pierre who had a very contrasting reaction to him.

“He is not good enough for my daughter, no one is, Julianna get in the car, we're going home!”

“Charles.” you called, but he didn't hear you.

He was shouting and you had a massive headache, and also so much was happening all you could tell was he was acting very irrational right now.

“What do you mean not good enough for your daughter?” Pierre asked, offended as he stepped to charles.

“You know exactly what I mean. I know what you were like as a teenager, remember?”

“Charles-” you tried to interrupt.

“No y/n, i'm right. He's just like you, see that little smirk on his smug face, I know what he wants and he's not getting it from my daughter!”

“Dad!” Jules shouted from across the room as hers and Noah's face turned red.

“How dare you say that about my son!”

“I'm not wrong Pierre, you used to get through the girls when we were younger, I doubt he's no different!”

“Charles!'' You shouted his name one more time, however this time you caught the attention of Pierre who looked over charles shoulder to see you looking rather green with a hand over your mouth.

All of pierres attention suddenly turned to you as he cocked his head to the side and his eyes widened.

“Charles, I think she's going to throw up.” And with that Charles realised the reason he had abandoned his stop at the bbq to follow you in her anyway.

“Shit, mon amour, are you okay?”

You didn't reply, just shaking your head as you held your hand over your mouth and ran to the toilet.

Charles had gone to follow you to the toilet but then he noticed a hand around his daughters waist and his attention changed.

“HANDS OFF GASLY!”

And with that Noah's hands were in the air as Jules pulled him off of her, tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at her dad.

“I'm not your little girl anymore dad!” she shouted before running back outside.

Charles groaned as he ran to where he could hear you being sick in the toilet, he grabbed your hair and rubbed your back.

“Mon amour, what's going on?” he asked as he handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth.

“Charles, I need to tell you something.”

“I'm listening.”

“We're going to need a bigger car.”

Charles' expression dropped as his slight smile faded.

“Don't worry about that right now, you sick, okay? Once we get you home I'll buy you all the bigger cars in the world.” He smiled but you could see he thought you were delusional as he looked you head in his hands and kissed your forehead.

“No charles, we need a bigger car for an extra person.” you giggled.

“If this is about Noah, he's not coming home with us?” Charles shaked his head as he looked at you.

You laughed again at how clueless he looked, you took his hands in yours, “we need another car seat too.”

“We got Arthur a new one last month- Mon amour? Are you feeling okay?” Charles was getting a bit nervous now, you were making no sense to him.

You look at his hand that was in yours and placed it on your stomach.

“Charles, I'm pregnant.” you smiled at him as you whipped the dribble from your chin.

“Surprise.” you smiled, lazily waving jazz hands as you dropped against the wall of the toilet, your head hurting even more after throwing up.

“Are you sure?” Charles' eyes lit up as he leaned over closer, his hand still on your stomach.

You nodded as you looked down at his hand and placed yours on top.

“Another one?” Charles let out a laugh as tears welled up in his eyes.

You both laughed as he moved so he was next to you crouched against the wall and you placed your head on his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” he asked you, kissing your temple as he tried to stop the tears.

“I've known for a few days, since when we went for that meal with Carlos and Isa and I was sick.”

“I thought that was food poisoning?” Charles laughed.

“Yeah, apparently not. Insted we have a sixth member to add to our not so little family.” You giggled.

After what felt like a few moments in silence with Charles as he held your stomach, continually kissing your temple and head you spoke up, nursing your little bubble on the toilet floor of Pierre's house.

“Charles, you need to apologise to Pierre, Noah, and jules.”

Charles groaned as he threw his head back, “let me just stay in here with you for a minute.” he complained.

“Do I really have to apologise?” he asked you with a pout.

“Yes.”

Charles helped you to stand up as you both made your way out the bathroom, Charles could sense the angry looks from everyone at the party as he could see his daughter crying into her uncle carlos’ arms as he gave Charles a death stare.

“Go apologise to her.” you ushered him on, he gave your waist a small squeeze as he kissed your temple and looked in a deep breath.

“Will you be okay?”

“Charles, go.”

When Charles made his way over to Carlos who had his arms wrapped around julianna as she sobbed into his arms you sat down on the outdoor sofa. Rubbing your head as you sunk back into the pillows, you prayed this pregnancy would be an easy one, and hopefully your last.

Until there was a little cough that caught your attention.

It was little Noah with a glass of water in his hands and a very nervous smile as he ushered the glass towards you.

“Thank you, noah.” You smile as you take the glass from him.

“Could I please sit, y/n?”

“Of course you can sweetie.”

You liked Noah, you could understand where Charles was coming from, Pierre was a very typical teenage boy growing up, but you knew from Noah's parents that he had been brought with the morals to treat girls properly.

“Are you feeling okay?” The young boy asked you.

“I'm fine, dont worry about me, are you okay?” you asked him, rubbing his shoulder as you could see how tense he was.

“I'm really sorry, I didn't want to get jules in trouble.” you giggled slightly at the boy.

“No ones in trouble noah, just confused.”

“Charles- he can be scary when he's angry.”

You laughed again as you looked at the boy, “don't be scared of charles, he wouldn't hurt a fly. He's just protective of his little girl.”

There was a silence that loomed for a second as you both watched Julianna and Charles hug in the garden, a sign that they had made up.

“I really really like your daughter.” You turn and smile at Noah, the smell of young love radiating from him.

“I don't doubt your feelings, noah. But I am worried you both might be a bit young and naive. I know you don't want to hear that right now, but just be careful. We don't choose who we love, but we can choose who we hurt.”

And with that you engulfed Noah in a hug as he whispered to you a small thank you.

“First my daughter and now my wife, maybe I should take it all back.” You looked up to see your husband with a sheepish look on his face as Noah flushed red.

“Dad!” Jules shouted as she hit his chest causing him to moan a small sorry.

After that Noah sat up, shaking hands with charles.

“I'm here to be civil noah, you seem like a sensible young man, don't prove me wrong.” Charles nodded at Noah who replied with a ‘yes sir’ causing you to giggle.

“And if i see your hands on her again don't doubt that i won't-”

“Dad!” Jules repeated, “you said you wouldn't threaten him!”

Charles finally let go of Noah's hand, eyeing up the boy as he and Julianna walked off. He came and sat next to you on the outside deck, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he kissed ur temple and quickly rubbed his hand over your stomach when no one was looking.

“Let's hope this one decides she doesn't want to get married until she's at least forty, or even speak to boys.” You giggled as charles moves his head closer to your stomach.

“You hear me, no boys!”

“How do you know it's a girl?”

“Oh it's a girl, I can smell the trouble from here.”

You laughed as you leaned into his shoulder.

“Did you make up?”

“We did.”

“They grow up so fast, y/n.” Charles sighed as he watched Leo think he was being discreet with his uncle Max as Max was letting him have a few sips of his beer, Arthur was jumping on the bouncy castle like he had been all day and Julianna was laughing with Noah in the corner.

“Well, we still have one more to enjoy, and athurs always going to be a momma's boy.” You shrugged as Charles turned to you.

“No way he's a daddy's boy.”

You laughed at Charles when you realised he was being serious.

“Oh no way, Arthur definitely loves me more.”

“At this moment in time Leo is my favourite.”

“Charles, you can't call favourites!”

“I can, and mine is leo.” charles smirked

You laughed as you snuggled up to your husband more, happy and content with your little chaotic family.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #Charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc fluff #Charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 fandom #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 drivers #dad!charles #dad!charles leclerc #Ferrari #carlos sainz

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clonecaptains · 3 years

Text

kept promises

a fives x f!reader fic~

word count: 4k

rating: m - for mild smut

summary: fives aims to keep his promise to marry you when the war is over. but things get complicated when he’s been shot. this is my fix it fic where fives doesn’t die :) pls enjoy

a/n: fives is the loml and ive been wanting to write about him for so long~~ i hope yall like this!! comments are appreciated!!

A loud knock on your apartment door stirs you from your sleep. You weren’t resting well anyways, but the bang on the door startles you. You push the covers back and feeling disoriented you rush for the front door. You fear something is wrong because who would be banging on your door at this hour. If Fives was coming home, he wouldn’t knock. He knows the entry code, it’s his place too.

You push the button, and the door opens with a hiss. You’re greeted with the sight of Rex and Jesse standing in your doorway. It’s always nice to see them, but from the looks on their faces it’s not going to be a pleasant visit.

Your face falls and you feel ill.

Fives.

“Is he alive?” you feel tears well up in your eyes and you reach for Rex. His eyes are sad, he carries a weight on him, and you know it.

“For now,” Rex winces to tell you the truth. “He’s been shot.”

Your hand flies to your mouth and Jesse reaches out to touch a hand to your arm.

“We came to get you to take you to him,” Jesse tries to speak as gently as possible.

“You need to pack a bag,” Rex puts his hand on your shoulder. “I can’t tell you why, but you need to hurry. There’s more to this than we can say right now.”

You nod and move aside so the boys can come in.

“Rex? Can you get some things you think Fives might need?” you ask him, you’re not entirely sure of the situation and he nods disappearing back into the bedroom you share with Fives. You yourself grab a bag and begin to stuff random clothing items in it, unsure of what you’ll even need.

This is more your place than Fives, he’s working constantly and only comes once in awhile when he has rare time off. But you have nothing here that really matters to you. What matters is him.

Your bag is stuffed full, and you’re flustered bringing it into the living area. A thin lacy pair of underwear hangs from the top, and Jesse quirks a brow.

“Packing the essentials?” he teases. “Has he seen you in that?”

“No, as a matter of fact he hasn’t,” your face warms and you shove it deeper into your bag and zip it tight.

“Jesse,” Rex’s voice is stern. He might have smiled before, but not now. “We need to go.”

Rex shoulders the bag packed for Fives, and Jesse takes your bag and slings it over his shoulder casually. You follow the boys, and your door closes behind you for the last time.

“Where are we going?” you ask, keeping up with their long strides.

“Can’t tell you,” Rex nods in the direction of a small ship outside your place. You follow them on board and Jesse is quick to get the ship into the atmosphere. He punches in the coordinates and before you know it, you’re off Coruscant headed out into space.

Rex sits down in front of you, and you feel queasy. You know he’s about to tell you something difficult and you’re not ready to hear it.

“You know when Fives sets his mind to something he won’t stop,” Rex smiles softly at that, knowing his brother’s determination. You smile too but a tear falls down your cheek. “He got into something he shouldn’t have, and he was shot for it. We took him off Coruscant for his own protection, and our own. If anyone were to find out about this, we could be in serious trouble.”

You nod. You won’t say a word.

“Besides Jesse and I, Kix is the only one who knows. He’s with Fives now. Get some rest, it’ll be hard to see him when we arrive,” he nods.

You nod back and take his advice. You try and sleep but to no avail. You do lie still and try to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.

The ship exiting hyperspace stirs you before Rex comes to get you. He’s quiet and patient while you sigh heavily, knowing you’re about to see him.

The planet you land on is one you’re unfamiliar with but it’s beautiful. Trees and mountains fill your sight. The boys take your bags and lead you to a humble little house nestled in some trees near a small pond.

Rex goes in first, and Jesse waits outside with you. Just in case something has happened. They don’t say that, but you know that’s why.

Rex opens the door back up and gives you both a small nod that it’s ok. Jesse puts his hand on your lower back and walks with you into the little house.

It’s a comfortable space, and you’re greeted with Kix as soon as you walk in. He gives you a soft smile and a nod, telling you that it’s ok.

“He’s in the back,” Kix tells you and the boys let you walk into the bedroom alone to see Fives.

In a cozy bedroom, Fives is laying out on the bed on his back. He’s hooked up to a number of machines. You’d seen a medical droid in the living area with Kix, so you know he’s in good hands. But it still breaks your heart to see him like this.

His head has been shaved, and there’s a cut on the right side of his head. It’s been patched up, but you can still see some old blood that seeped through the bandage. He’s shirtless and there’s a bandage wrapped around his chest from where you can only assume is the blaster injury.

You reach for him and touch his shoulder. Then you stroke his cheek with the back of your finger. You place a tender kiss on his forehead before you lay down on the bed next to him. Careful of everything he’s hooked up to, you rest your head on his shoulder.

You fall asleep there and you don’t know how long you stay there with him. It’s Fives who wakes you. His body stirs and you gasp softly sitting up. His eyes open, you can tell he’s exhausted. Even the rich tones of his skin seem paler. But he smiles when he sees you. His hand reaches up to cup your face and he mumbles a mando’a pet name.

He falls back asleep, and you feel tears well up in your eyes again. Just a brief glimmer of the life in his eyes is enough to bring you joy and sorrow.

You think about when you first knew him. How you and your friends would go to 79’s and they would try to push you in Fives’ direction. How if he ever looked your way you’d look away and avoid his gaze. You did this for weeks. Then he’d leave for a mission, and you wouldn’t see him for months.

Before too long, he approached you. And it was his brothers teasing him. Daring him to talk to you and howling when you agreed to go out with him.

You sniffle softly with a smile at the memory of when you kissed him on the cheek, and he was quick to put his helmet on to hide his flustered face.

The boys would tell you later that you were the first person Fives was interested in that made him act like this. Usually he was smoother, more charismatic with charm. But with you? Brain dead. Just as flustered as you.

That was months ago. But it feels like a lifetime ago. He made a promise to you before his last mission that when the war was over, he’d settle down and marry you. He said this a few weeks back before he left. And now here he is, laying on a bed recovering from being shot.

You sit up and press a kiss to his lips before you climb off the bed. You’re hurting and you need some air. And you think it’s wise to tell Kix that Fives woke for a moment.

“Rex?” you whisper, and he’s quick to stand when you speak his name. “Will you walk with me while I get some air?”

You don’t want to be alone right now. Especially not on this strange new planet. And you trust Rex with your life. You don’t know this, but Fives made Rex promise to keep an eye on you if something ever happened.

Rex is right behind you when you step outside. You breathe deeply and he does too. You can’t imagine it’s ever easy seeing one of your brothers hurt like this.

The two of you begin to explore and walk quietly together.

“Fives is a good man. One of the best I know. He’ll make a good husband I think,” Rex smiles offering you his blessing.

“He told you?” your face warms at the thought of him talking about you.

Rex chuckles, “we always knew in the barracks that night if he had a date with you. He wouldn’t shut up. He told me months ago he wanted to marry you.”

You cover your smile with your hand, and Rex smiles seeing the affection on your face.

“Seeing our brothers find joy in this war is a gift. And you have been a true joy to him.”

You spend the rest of the walk in silence. Enjoying the sound of the wind in the trees. It’s peaceful. You see a few animals and some homes nearby. It’s good to know you aren’t truly alone out here.

You can only assume the boys will pack up and leave- no matter the outcome.

But then Rex gets an unexpected message that they are needed. They have to pack up that night. Kix runs you through everything you need to know about what you can do to help. He’ll leave the medical droid there with you to help as best it can.

You can’t help the tears that fall when the boys get ready to leave.

You give each one a hug and a kiss on his cheek. Thanking them for what they’ve done for you and for Fives.

Rex hugs you a little tighter than the rest, and you know he hates to leave you here alone. Kix feels a pang of guilt leaving Fives too, but none of them are even supposed to be here. Kix has already reported Fives as KIA to keep the both of you safe, but it’s hard to leave.

Then it’s quiet. It’s just you and Fives and a droid. Fives is still resting, and the droid is checking his vitals. Based on what Kix told you, Fives sustained a couple broken ribs from the shot. He should be fine, but it will take time to fully heal, and he will be sore.

That’s how you spend the next couple weeks. Fives slowly starts to heal and he’s able to get on his feet. You take walks when he feels like it, and you learn about each other. For the first time in a long time, you have time to spend together. Getting to share meals and stories and watching silly videos on the holonet.

You even find out about the end of the war when you’re here. The turn of the tide. That there’s an empire now. Fives has a hard time that day. Feeling betrayed, knowing he was right. Pain eating him up inside knowing many of his brothers are out there fighting something in their head they can’t stop. The lives that have been lost. Even the Jedi.

He’s quiet for a few days then. Trying to rationalize what it all means. And where he fits in in this galaxy.

When he comes to bed that night, you know he’s haunted.

“Take it easy my love,” you kiss his temple. His hair is starting to grow back and it’s soft to the touch. You smile at being so close to him. You’ve shared a bed with him for the last few weeks, and even before when you lived on Coruscant. But you’d yet to be intimate with him.

You’d never been intimate with anyone at all. And you know the day will soon come that Fives will be your first. And hopefully your only.

“I can’t believe the war is over,” he says gently pulling you into his arms. It’s less and less painful now to hold you. He kisses your stern brow. “And I made you a promise,” he grins.

You’ve thought about that promise every day. Especially when you thought you might lose him. But now it’s even stronger sharing a bed and all your time with him. He’s so close to you. You can feel his warmth and smell his skin. The soft touch of his lips on yours before bed.

When your relationship was new you told him you wanted him. And he told you the same. But you made an agreement to wait until after the war. You can’t really remember why now. Because when you thought you lost him, all you could think about was the moments that might have been lost. Or the regret.

But now that he’s safe, and the war for him is over – you’re glad you chose this. There’s no urgency. And you both know that once he heals, you’ll take that final step together.

And it’s getting closer. A growing feeling in the pit of your belly tells you. Fives is able to do most things now. He had difficulty staying in bed. Staying still. He wanted to get up and move. He thrives off the day-to-day chores around the house and taking care of their land that you’re not sure how Rex even got ahold of.

You woke yesterday morning in Fives arms and his hard length pressing against you. He was just as flustered as you were, but you saw the flame of desire in his eyes. And that flame licked your body all over. You were tired of waiting, but now you had to for him to heal. You would feel terrible if something happened to him for the sake of pleasure. But you could only imagine his wry chuckle in saying he wouldn’t mind at all.

“Fives?” you call to your lover this afternoon out the window. He’s in the back tending to the garden that has begun to grow. He perks his head up at the sound of your voice and he smiles warmly. With his forearm, he wipes sweat off his brow and joins you inside. “How are you feeling my love?” you ask him after he gives you a kiss. You taste the salt from his sweat and you’re aching. You need him. Now.

He knows you, and your looks. He knows what this means.

“Good enough to keep my promise,” he gives a little wink and pulls off his sweaty shirt. He only grunts a little from the movement, but it’s nothing major. You giggle at his eagerness but then feel your knees buckle at the sight of his sweaty chest. Dark hair is dusted lightly over his pecs and lead down to his waistband.

“Fives,” you moan and touch his skin. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen him shirtless or touched him like this. But it feels different now. There’s a scar and a slight yellowing from his bruise almost done healing.

He reaches for the hem of your shirt when there’s a quiet knock on the door.

Fives laughs because you’ve been alone for weeks and now there’s a knock at this moment.

“Who is it?” Fives calls and Rex answers. You both light up at the sound of his voice, and Fives runs to open the front door for him.

Rex looks exhausted. He has a cut on his head in the same place Fives does. And he wears a tan poncho over his armor. Any humor about the moment has gone when Rex sees Fives and hugs him tight.

Something in you tells you that Rex has lost too many brothers over the last few weeks. And seeing Fives alive is a peace he needed.

“I came to check on the two of you,” he tells you finally. “But I seemed to have interrupted you,” he almost looks shy.

“Actually,” Fives stops and looks at you for a moment with a smile. “You might be just the man we need.”

Fives disappears into the bedroom. You and Rex exchange looks as you hear Fives clattering around. He emerges moments later in full armor. There’s a blast mark on his chest plate and you try not to look at it but it’s the thing on everyone’s mind.

“Why did you put this on?” you ask him touching his shoulder. You love how broad he looks in his armor, and you lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek. You love him so much and it’s hitting you hard seeing him in this armor. Just how you could have lost him and yet here he stands.

“Rex? Wanna marry us? Can you do that?”

Rex smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen, and no one really cares if he can legally or not. You’ve been married to Fives for a long time as far as you’re concerned.

“Well wait, I want to look nice too,” you stop and head to your room to put something else on. You choose one of the nicer things you brought with you when you were scrambling to pack all those weeks ago. You put it on and feel giddy with love.

Fives offers you his arm when you come out, and he leads you outside into the quiet of the woods. He takes your hands in his and Rex stands with the two of you.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to a wedding before,” Rex chuckles, getting a loud laugh from Fives. “Fives,” Rex speaks his brother’s name, and Fives stands at attention. “The Republic has fallen. We live in the times of the Empire now. You’ll always be a soldier but this time – your duty is to this one in front of you. Promise me, yourself, but most importantly to your riduur that you will protect and love with all that you have. I know you will. But it’s an order Fives.”

Rex smiles, and Fives gives a nod. He squeezes your hands, and you know he will keep his promise.

Then Rex looks to you. His eyes are gentle.

“You have been given a gift. And that’s the love of my brother. I know him better than anyone, and I know how much he loves you. I know he would do anything for you. Because I know I would if I were in his shoes. I’m trusting you to look out for him. Protect his heart. I know you have, and I trust you with him.”

By now you have tears in your eyes. But it’s more than just from love- it’s knowing that you have Rex’s trust. He’s one of the best men that you know.

Rex pauses, and steps back a moment. And Fives takes that opportunity to cup your face in his hands and kiss you deeply. Then he presses his forehead to yours and if only you knew then what the gesture meant to him and Rex.

When you part, you reach for Rex and give him another hug and kiss on his cheek.

“I owe you everything,” you tell him, and his brow is stern even with his small smile.

Fives then grabs Rex in an even bigger hug and kisses him loudly on the cheek. They touch foreheads and then Fives laughs shoving Rex on the shoulder telling him to get lost.

“We have things to do,” Fives laughs again, and Rex can only roll his eyes with amusement.

“Stay safe, I’ll contact you if I need you again,” Rex tells you both and with that he’s gone.

The moment Rex is out of sight, Fives grabs you. His hands are on your hips digging into your skin and his lips are on yours. He’s already moaning into you as he backs you into the house.

He knows that you’ve never been with anyone, and it makes him even more hungry to touch you. He’s eager and excited and between his kisses and tugging off your clothes, he makes sure every action is alright.

He’s so excited that he forgets to undress himself, and he has you naked in front of him while he stands in full armor.

“Fives,” you feel shy and tempted to cover yourself while he stands proud in his armor.

“Oh, right,” he chuckles and begins to take off his armor piece by piece. You help him in between kisses, and he sneaks little butt grabs and smacks while he can. He gets distracted easily by the sway of your breasts as you move, and he squeezes them until you squeak.

When he’s free of his armor and blacks and everything else, he tips you back onto the bed and kisses you all over. Every bit of you that he can kiss, he does. His goatee tickles and you tug on his hair even though it’s still really short.

He finds himself between your legs and he takes his time. Going back and forth between his mouth and his hands until you’re crying out his name. He’s almost too rough in his eagerness and you gasp and giggle pushing him off you. You could cry, you’ve never been wanted so much in your life.

“Sorry,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “You taste so good,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Don’t be,” you feel warm, “I just want more from other parts of you,” you giggle when he raises an eyebrow.

He slides up your body and delves his tongue into your mouth and squeezes your breast again as he lines up with your entrance. He’s slow moving inside and you cry out in his kiss. Your hands are on his shoulders, and you tell him to wait.

He’s patient and kisses you while you adjust to him. But you can tell he’s ready to move. He grunts and his abs tighten, and he can’t help the wince that escapes his lips.

“Do we need to stop?” you ask him, your voice full of concern.

“No,” he shudders when he pushes in a little deeper. “I need you mesh’la.”

He focuses on feeling the pleasure of it and making sure you feel your pleasure. When you arch your back and press your chest to his, something about the action sends him over and he cries out in your ear as he spills inside of you.

He whispers another apology but you’re moaning and gasp when you feel his thumb press where you need him most. You find your release with a whine.

He pulls out of you but stays on you. He slides down a little and rests his head on your chest. His face nestled between your breasts and his ear can hear your heartbeat pound.

“Happy?” you giggle scratching his head as he nuzzles your breast.

“Happier than I’ve ever been. Are you?” he looks up at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

You nod and scratch his back then his scalp. “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I love you baby,” you tell him.

“I love you cyare,” he mumbles kissing your sternum before laying back down.

You don’t know if he’s thinking the same thing, you are. But all you can think about is how a few weeks ago you were laying in this bed with him hoping he would get up. Hoping he would move. Praying he was alive.

Now that you have him in your arms, you’ve never been more thankful he’s alive. But in this case, you don’t want him to move. He feels too good.

He can feel your heartbeat, and you can feel his warmth. The life is in him again and you truly have never been happier to have him alive. Heart pounding and life in his veins, and that fire of love in his eyes.

#arc trooper fives #fives #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #my writing #LKGHKGSGJK I HOPE YALL LIKE THIS!!!!!

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

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santigarcia · 4 years

Text

we’ll meet again

a ww2 au santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader x frankie ‘catfish’ morales fic~

rating: m for smut; threesomes, some war violence

word count: 3.5k

summary: You’re in a relationship w/ Santi and Frankie and they both are drafted for the war; you anxiously await their return home.

a/n: ive been wanting to do a santi x reader x frankie fic for a while now, but i wanted to do something different w/ mine! just wasn’t sure how! until i got this ww2 idea~ so i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated

thank you @huliabitch for this aesthetic!!!!!

We’ll Meet Again

Santiago Garcia whistles a tune while he checks the mail. He’s on his lunch break from work and he decided to come home to see you. The mail is downstairs in the lobby of your apartment building. He fishes his keys out of his pocket still whistling the tune.

Frankie Morales is right behind him; he had the same idea to come see you at lunch during his break.

“You wanna get mine out too?” Frankie asks, Santi nods not turning his head. He knows Frankie’s voice.

He knows a lot more about Frankie than the average person should. These two men are in a relationship with you. The three of you share an apartment.

You’re up there waiting for them to come home right now, and both men have a spring in their step. Until Santi pulls out two identical envelopes from the mailbox. He doesn’t have to open it to know what it is. He hands Frankie his letter. Santi stands still, while Frankie tears open the letter, his eyes scanning the document, all the color leaving his face.

“We can’t tell her,” Santi holds his hand up, he’s calm as he tries to process this.

“She sure as fuck is going to notice that we’re gone! How are we going to keep this a secret?”

“No man, I mean we don’t tell her we got drafted yeah? We tell her we volunteered.”

“How is that better? That we chose to leave her?”

“Fuck I don’t know,” Santi sighs and brushes his hand over his face.

The light clack of heels on the floor turns their heads, and they are greeted with your smiling face. Your hair perfectly curled and red lipstick swept across your lips. Normally their tongues would wag at the sight of you, but there’s too much fear and uncertainty running through their minds.

“Hi boys,” you greet them with a smile, unaware of what news they hold in their hands and is just waiting on the tips of their tongues.

“Hey honey,” Santi greets you with a kiss to your cheek. He’s better at acting than Frankie.

When you turn to Frankie, you see the worried look on his brow, and the letter in his hand.

“What’s that?” you ask him, your voice catching in your throat. You know what it is, but you don’t want it to be true.

“Baby,” Santi brings the attention back to him. He takes a deep breath about to tell you when Frankie cuts him off.

“We volunteered.”

Santi gives him a look of surprise that he said it, but you don’t see it. You feel sick to your stomach.

“Both of you?” you reach for Santi to steady yourself; you feel dizzy. Frankie reaches for you to keep you upright. “When? When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

Tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You aren’t angry, you’re scared. The loves of your life are leaving for war. There’s a high chance they won’t come home.

You try to soak up as much of them as you can in the next week, but there’s an ever-present darkness over your lives. The next few days fly by, even amidst the fear and anxiety that fills your little apartment. Before you know it, you’re at the station saying goodbye to your boys.

Soldiers in uniform are everywhere, and many others like you are saying goodbye to their sweethearts, their sons, or their fathers. There’s a bitter feeling in the air, tears are on many faces.

“At least the last image I see of you boys is how handsome you both look in your uniforms,” you sniffle, trying to make light of this situation. You smooth your hand over Santi’s broad shoulders and straighten Frankie’s crooked tie.

The train whistle blows it’s the last call to board. They have to go.

“Santi,” you reach for him. His gorgeous eyes are sad, but his eyebrows lift when you call his name. Your hand rests on his chest over his heart. “Don’t be too reckless. Keep an eye on Frankie.” Your other hand cups his face, stubble already growing in from his shave this morning. You move your hand up to touch at his hair just above his ear, his uniform hat hiding his greying curls from you. “You’re so smart and brave, use that to your advantage. But stay out of trouble.” You kiss his cheek, then he kisses your forehead when he sees the tears in your eyes.

“Frankie,” you turn to him, your hand still on Santi’s chest. “Be brave. It’s ok to be scared. Don’t let Santi be stupid.” His lips quirk up in a smile, and you feel Santi’s chest when he chuckles. You touch Frankie’s face and kiss his cheek too. “Don’t shave off that mustache. Let your kindness shine through during this. You’re so much stronger than you know.” You let out a sob and he wraps you up tight in a hug. “I don’t want you to go,” you tell him.

Santi’s hand comes to rest on your back, and he gently pulls you from Frankie to hug you one last time.

When you look at their faces you smile through your tears seeing you left a lipstick stain on each of their cheeks. You reach in your purse for your handkerchief, but Santi grabs your wrist, “leave it.” He says with a soft wink.

They each give you one more kiss then they turn and board the train.

That first night is one of the worst. For so long you’ve had not one, but two men in your bed keeping you safe, keeping you company. Now this bed feels so empty and cold.

It isn’t easy for them either. It’s not until they sit down on the train that the gravity of the situation hits them both. It’s here where they meet with two brothers, Will and Benny. All these men here are in the same situation, leaving home behind to go to war.

Basic training is up first for the boys, and Frankie struggles. He throws up on the first day, Santi claps him on the back telling him it’ll be alright – and he doesn’t just mean his stomach.

Santi intends to keep his promise to look out for Frankie, he’s family.

The boys write to you as much as they can, even when they’re shipped out overseas. Their letters serve as a comfort for all three of you. For you it’s knowing they’re alive, for them it’s a chance to think about something else, something better – you.

Santi is formal in his letters, precise. His handwriting is neat. His words are comforting, romantic, and full of sexual things he’d like to do with you when he gets home. He tells you about what’s going on as much as he can and tells you funny stories about Frankie, he hopes will make you laugh. He tells you about how he and Frankie have nicknames now. How he’s Pope and Frankie is Catfish. He tells you that he looks at the photo you gave him often, wishing to hold you again.

You like to imagine what Santi looks like when he writes. Maybe he’s in a tank top, arms dirty from the mud. A cigarette hanging loose between his lips. It’s much better to think of the alternative, which in reality Santi is in the mud, but he’s cold. Writing to you from a dim flashlight, hearing the sounds of shells exploding in the distance.

Frankie writes the way he talks, it’s simple and sweet and direct. His handwriting is messy, and his letters bring you a different kind of comfort. He tells you that he’s got his eye on Santi. That he too looks at the picture you gave him. How much he misses your warmth, your laugh. How he wants to take you out dancing when he gets home. You can tell by the way he writes that he’s sad. But there’s a change in him too that brings you comfort; he’s finding his courage.

What he doesn’t tell you is the ridicule they’ve gotten for “fuckin’ the same broad.” When everyone was showing off photos of their girls, someone snatched your picture out of Frankie’s hand. In Frankie’s photo, you’re smiling bright – a smile just for him. In Santi’s photo, you’re blowing a kiss to him.

Frankie almost punched the guy for talking about how sweet your pussy must be for two men to want it. Santi had to bite his tongue as he pulled Frankie back.

When you write to the boys, you tell them what you’ve been up to. How holidays and birthdays are terrible without them home. How you are helping out with the cause in whatever way you can.

What you don’t tell them is the nightmares that plague your mind. Graphic depictions of their deaths. It’s hard enough to imagine one, but often times both of them die in your dreams.

The nightmares only seem to worsen when the letters become less and less frequent. You resort to other things to keep their memory alive while they’re gone.

The scent of Santi’s aftershave becomes a comfort. You hug Frankie’s pillow at night, so you don’t feel so lonely.

Your boys have no such comfort other than a small fading photograph and your letters sprayed with your perfume. Their lives are a living nightmare, and it continues to grow more hellish.

The worst of their nights at war is when boys reach a small German village, the enemy hiding in the homes of innocent villagers. It’s dark, all the lights in the town are out. The moon overhead, and the lights the soldiers have with them are the only way they can see.

Santi volunteers to take first watch.

During his walk of the perimeter, he peers around a corner and a grenade explodes. He wasn’t close enough for major shrapnel to hit him, but the force of the explosion sends his body hurling backwards. He slams into a brick wall like a ragdoll, his knees hit first. He falls to the ground hard, and it is chaos now around him, but he can barely hear it because his ears are ringing.

Frankie searches frantically for Santi, and his commanding officer Redfly, orders Frankie to stay at his position. But he doesn’t listen, he made a promise to you.

“Why don’t you just leave him eh Frankie?” he hears one of the other soldiers tease him. “The competition’s been wiped out!”

Frankie keeps looking, and finally in the early dawn he finds Santi in a heap in the mud and blood.

“The hell are you doing?” Santi groans when Frankie gets to him. Gunfire and explosions light up the morning sky around them. “Leave me man. My legs are shot.”

“I won’t leave you here,” Frankie shakes his head and leans down to pick up Santi.

“Fuck!” is all Santi can say as Frankie moves his body. “Wait, just wait. I can’t walk.”

“No shit,” Frankie almost laughs.

“I promised to keep you safe, now get out of here.”

“And I promised her I’d keep you from being stupid.”

“How’s that workin’ out for you?” Santi laughs and splutters up some blood.

Frankie leans down again and hurls Santi’s body over his shoulder. Fear and adrenaline are his only explanations for how he managed to do this.

The next thing Santi remembers is waking up in a medical tent. Both of his legs are bandaged and elevated, and he feels miserable. His ears still have a dull ringing in them. He has an awful headache, but at least his legs don’t hurt, and he can in fact feel his toes. He misses you. He wants you here. Fuck. He wants to hold your hand. For you to comb your fingers through his hair to help him calm down.

He takes in his surroundings. Men are in beds everywhere. Nurses are walking all about, checking on everyone. His best guess is he’s in the recovering area, but he can still hear muffled screams in a nearby tent of extreme trauma cases.

He feels sick to his stomach, images of war coming back to him. It’s then he sees Frankie is sitting next to him, his arm in a sling.

“What happened to you?” Santi rasps, his voice gone from not using it in a few days.

“I carried some idiot off the battlefield over my shoulder. Tore it to shit.”

“She’s not gonna be happy about this,” Santi laughs. He can only imagine your reaction, but he would love for you to fuss over him.

“We’re fuckin’ alive man. She’ll take us however we are.”

And Frankie’s exactly right. He stays with Santi until he heals. And soon after that – the war is over.

They get to come home.

You cry when you hear the news on the radio. So many lives lost, you mourn with those around you who won’t have their soldier coming home.

You’d gotten one letter from Frankie in the last few months, and one only one came you feared the worst. But in his letter, he details how Santi was hurt and doing well in recovery. You felt sick reading this letter, to be so far from those who you love when they are hurting is a pain you never experienced to this degree.

And you can’t even begin to imagine what they went through. It tugs at your heart.

The entire time they were gone, every time your phone rang – it filled you with dread. That this would be the phone call alerting you of one or both of their deaths. You never got that phone call.

But today, you’d get to hear their voices on the other end of your phone.

“Hello?” you answer, and you hear both of their voices pouring in through the phone. From what you can hear over their excited babble and your crying, they are in New York. They’re boarding a train and will be home to you tonight.

Santi’s holding the mouthpiece while he and Frankie talk into it. You wish you could see them.

“We love you, honey. We’ll be home before you know it!”

They don’t talk long because they have to board and the lines for the phones are packed full of people trying to get in contact with their families.

You hold your own phone mouthpiece to your chest after they hang up. You’re setting it on the hook to hang up when you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you move towards it to answer.

When you open the door, there they stand. Frankie and Santi. Shoulder to shoulder in their uniforms. Their bags at their feet. Santi slowly takes off his hat when he sees you, Frankie’s chest tightens. Your hand flies to your mouth and tears fall from your eyes as you leap into their arms. Your arms wrap around their necks and you cry there in the hallway, not caring who can hear you.

They both lean in to press kisses to your cheeks. Then Santi goes for your neck while Frankie whispers affections of love in your ear. You kiss both of them on the lips, smearing your lipstick all over their faces.

Even when they set you down and you pull them into your apartment by their ties, you still have tears falling down your cheeks.

In the soft light of the apartment, you take a good look at them. It’s the first time you’ve seen their faces in four years.

They look older. There’s a look in their eyes that makes you sad, it’s hidden but you know it’s what they’ve seen that haunts them. An unspeakable weight they carry. Santi’s hair has more grey than black. Frankie still has the mustache, and he stands taller.

“I wish I had known you sneaky boys were going to be home so fast! I would have made your favorites!”

“Baby, you’re our favorite,” Santi winks as he takes a seat at the kitchen table, shrugging his bag onto the floor.

Frankie quietly walks over to the record player and puts on a slow song. He takes off his hat and smooths down his hair, only to put it back on again. He reaches for your hand and the two of you start to sway to the music.

Santi has a soft smile on his face. Just happy to see you again. Happy to be home. It’s strange to be there all together again. How are you supposed to go on now? Do you all just pick up where you left off? There’s so much that’s been seen, pain that’s been felt.

All that you know right now is how good it feels to lean your head on Frankie’s chest. Frankie guides you over to Santi, and you reach out to weave your fingers into his hair.

“You going to dance Santi?” you lean down to kiss him.

“In a minute, he deserves this one.”

You look up at Frankie as you continue to sway.

“What does he mean by that?” you ask.

“Did he not tell you?” Santi lights a cigarette and places it between his lips, pocketing the lighter. “He saved my life. Threw me over his shoulder when I couldn’t walk.”

He sugarcoats the story, it’s still to raw to talk about.

“Why didn’t you tell me in your letter?”

“I was just keeping a promise,” Frankie smiles and leans down to kiss you.

“I’ll dance with you baby, but back in that bedroom.”

“Then what are we waiting for hmm?” you reach for Santi and tug Frankie back towards your shared bedroom.

There’s heat in their eyes, and an ache you’ve all been needing to fulfill. You take your time to undress each one. You want to touch him just to make sure he’s real.

While you undress Santi, his hooded eyes are full of delight. He’s been waiting for this for four years. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as you fumble with buttons out of excitement. You slap his hand away when he tries to help, only coaxing a chuckle from his lips.

You strip him down until he’s naked, only thing on him are his dog togs dangling around his neck. He goes to lay down on the bed while you work on Frankie.

His eyes are you on, but there’s a different kind of heat in his eyes. He shudders when your hand touches the skin on his chest. He groans into your lips when you pull him in for a kiss.

“Lay down, sweetheart,” Frankie rasps. You do as he tells you and you lay next to Santi.

Parting your legs, Frankie dives in to mouth at your heat, his mustache tickling your sensitive flesh. Santi takes this opportunity to angle himself so he can mouth at your breasts and neck and your lips. His hand on your forehead groaning into your lips and on your chest.

Frankie moves his tongue over your lazily, even after you’ve reached your high, he still works his tongue over you, enjoying the taste he’s been starved of.

When he’s through, Santi rolls back over and you crawl into his lap. You’re slick and ready for him, so you sink down on him. You both shudder to feel this, the warmth you’ve both been missing. Frankie stands near you, and you reach for him – grasping his hard length in your hand you stroke him lazily while Santi thrusts up in you. Frankie slides his hand down to rub at your sex.

Feeling both of them after going without for so long has you coming hard on Santi. You shake and Santi steadies you with his hands on your hips.

Your hand is still on Frankie, and he lets go before he meant to. He wanted to be inside you, but feeling you was too much for him and he’s coming all over your side.

A couple more thrusts from Santi and he’s tossing his head back coming hard in you. You lean forward to kiss his chin and capture his groan. Then you sit back up and lean up to kiss Frankie’s lips, his hand coming to cradle your jaw.

You clench once around Santi while he softens up, and he groans again. You giggle to tease him so, and he whispers, “that’s my girl.”

You spend the rest of the night like that. Naked and laying in between your two lovers. You kiss them as deeply as you can. Listening to them tell stories, and they listen to yours. Catching up on the four years missed, it feels like a lifetime ago.

It’s strange to feel whole now that they are home, but there’s something missing too. They are not the same men as before, but you’re not the same woman. The one thing that hasn’t changed after all this time – through war and sorrow is your love for each other.

tagging: @agentpike, @bisexual-space-slut, @blancatobarxoxo, @cosmicmando, @damndamer0n, @darksideofclarke, @feelmyroarrrr, @ghosttofcalum, @goldhoran, @himbopoes, @huliabitch, @ironman-iam, @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa, @itspdameronthings, @ivars-heathen, @javihoney, @knittingqueen13, @limenlimon, @literatureandqueen, @maciiiofficial, @magicsuperheroes, @mandoplease, @marvel-dameron, @melanietrancy, @mitchi-c, @mylifeliterally, @pajamasecrets, @pascalplease, @pascalz, @perropascal, @phoenixhalliwell, @poesflygirl, @poeticandors, @punkpascal, @rewritingstars, @savagethewhale, @saved-fanfiction, @sgtbookybarnes, @shadow-assassin-blix, @stanningtoomanypeopleatonce, @stardust-galaxies, @the-bird-suit, @thehippiequilter, @thepjofanqueen, @this-cat-is-dea, @tintinwrites, @triggerhappyflygirl, @waatermelon-sugaar, @wakalas, @xremember-me-notx, @xxidontwikeitxx

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #santiago garcia x reader x frankie morales #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #my writing #I HOPE YALL LIKE THISSSS

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [62]

iv. pandora’s box

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of injuries, torture, violence and explosions, anxiety.

Summary: Diyoza and the Eligius prisoners agree to help you open the bunker, but none of you are prepared for the danger you let out.

a/n: who needs a distraction? mayhaps you’d like to read one of the most highly anticipated chapters of sub rosa??? i feel like yall have been waiting on this for ages! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You pull your eyes open with a groan, staring at a gray wall in front of you.

Your brows pull together in confusion, trying to remember where you are. Your jacket is off and tucked beneath your head, a cool breeze floating over your skin. You feel a throbbing pain in your left shoulder, and you reach up to touch it, fingers brushing over a bandage. You remember the bullet, and someone, a guy, stitching you up. You close your eyes tight and try to remember, forcing your brain to push through the cotton packed inside of your head, making everything feel fuzzy.

Handsome guy, young, all black outfit...Shaw. Shaw took your bullet out and patched you up. After Clarke showed up. You sit up abruptly, remembering that your twin was with you, and look around, searching for her. But whatever room you’re in, she’s not in there with you, and you lower yourself back down, too drained of energy to continue sitting up. Okay, Clarke showed up, and then the prisoners thought you were lying and then...the collar. Your fingers reach up and brush over your neck, relieved to find that the shock collar is gone, no longer locked around your neck.

Your neck, however, still feels tender, the memory of the collar bruised into your skin. You start to think again, things becoming clearer, falling into place. You were being tortured outside but that all stopped when something happened. Bright lights, Clarke sitting up nervously. The rover. Madi showed up with the rover. You feel a rush of shock at the memory, and you know you’re missing something. A big piece of the puzzle, just out of reach. Taller, older, a man. Rush of affection, Bellamy?

You shake your head, knowing that can't be right. Bellamy is stuck in space, away from you, and you’re stuck on the ground, away from him. Still, you start to swear you see him in the flashes of your memory, and you can't shake the feeling that he was there. Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the beep of the door behind you, and you freeze in place, terrified of who is going to walk inside your room. You hear a pair of feet shuffle away, and you turn, hesitant, shocked to see Bellamy standing in the doorway of the room you’re in. You stare at him in surprise, watching as he runs over to you and sits down beside you, helping you to pull your body upright into a sitting position.

Your eyes rake over him in shock, taking him in, and his familiar scent floats towards you, flipping a switch in your brain. Tears instantly rise to your eyes, and you jump towards him, pulling him into a hug. The two of you cling to each other desperately, holding tight, afraid to let go, and you finally let yourself believe that he’s actually here with you. You whisper, “You’re really here.”

He pulls away to look at you, expression heartbroken, tears also in his eyes. The two of you stare at each other, crying, the emotion of the moment almost too much to handle. His eyes land on the bruise on your cheek, and then to the bruise on your neck, before landing to the corner of the bandage that covers your shoulder. His expression drops and he tugs you forward, pressing your foreheads together, his hand resting on the back of your neck lightly. You revel in his presence as you cry, too overwhelmed to say or do anything else. The moment ends when you hear the shuffling of feet by the door, and when you look up you see Clarke standing there, relief all over her face.

She walks over to you and pulls you into a hug, both of you thankful to still be alive, before she releases you and hugs Bellamy, just as shocked to see him as you are. As soon as she pulls away, she whispers, “Madi?”

“She's safe. She's in the woods with the others. Diyoza won't look for them as long as we're in control.”

You look at him, your heart bursting with joy. “You're all still alive? Murphy, Monty, Raven?”

“Echo and Emori.” He nods, looking between you both, trying to convey his appreciation. “The two of you saved us all.”

“And now you're home.” You smile at him, still in shock, and he smiles back. Clarke looks back towards the open door, and looks at him in confusion. “Wait, why'd she release us?”

“We made a deal. She agreed to open the bunker.” You and Clarke look at him in happy surprise, shocked to hear the words you never thought you’d get to hear. Bellamy looks between the two of you as he grabs his radio. “Raven and Murphy are up on their main ship, waiting to hear from us. We used their fuel to get down, but as we were loading it up, we stumbled upon the rest of their prisoners, sealed up in cryo chambers.”

“So the sleeping prisoners are our leverage?”

“Yes. If Diyoza backs out on her word, we call Raven and they pull the plug, killing them all.” He holds the radio up, showing it to you both. “It’s time to check in, if you guys want to join in?”

“Yes!”

“Of course!”

“Raven, can you hear me? Come in.”

“Tell me everyone's okay.” You and Clarke share a smile at the sound of her voice, her words reminding you of the radio call you all shared after Clarke destroyed the City of Light.

“Everyone's okay. We reached a deal with the people from that ship, and, by the way, the Laser-comm's an open line, so they can hear every word we say.”

Your grin widens at the sound of the next voice, comforted by the jokes of the cockroach. “Nice to meet you. We're not bad people, we-”

Bellamy cuts Murphy off, practically rolling his eyes. “Raven, keep him away from the radio.”

“Copy that.”

“Anyway, they know the rules, but just to be safe, Colonel Diyoza, here they are again. If anyone tries to get around your security, you pull the plug. If anyone does anything that wasn't agreed upon, you pull the plug, and if you don't hear from me every hour on the hour, you pull the plug.”

“Is that all?”

Bellamy looks over at the two of you, smiling. “No, that's not all. Some people here want to say hello.”

He hands the radio to you, and you press the button with a smile. “Raven, Murphy, it's really good to hear your voices.”

Clarke adds, “We weren't sure we’d ever get to hear them again.”

Raven’s voice sounds shocked when she answers, and you can only imagine the expression on her face. “The twins? I don't believe it.”

“Jeez, and they call me the cockroach.”

You, Bellamy, and Clarke all laugh at Murphy’s quip, and you feel a pang in your chest, finally getting some semblance of normalcy that you’ve longed for in the last 6 years. Clarke answers, “You guys just be careful up there, okay? We'll talk more once this is all over.”

You add, “We want to hear everything!”

“Okay, but first,” Raven’s voice is shaky, and you can tell she’s crying. “Thank you for saving our lives.”

“We miss you both.”

Bellamy puts a hand on your shoulder and whispers, “We’ve got to go.”

You and Clarke nod, and you pass the radio back to him. “Raven, stay safe. We'll talk soon.”

“Yeah, every hour on the hour.”

As soon as they sign off, Bellamy reaches out for you and Clarke both, taking your hands and leading you out into the hall, towards a row of seats situated along the wall. “We’re scheduled to take off as soon as the check in is complete. They’re going to use the transport to remove the rubble, and they’ll use their mining equipment to blast a hole into the ceiling.”

You and Clarke nod, allowing him to lead you both to the seats, all three of you strapping in. Almost as soon as you're secure, the transport takes off, lifting into the sky and flying towards Polis. You, Clarke, and Bellamy sit in silence for most of the trip, too much to say with not enough time, but eventually he asks about the time you spent trying to dig the bunker out, and you and Clarke pass along the story. As you tell the story, the prisoners use the weapons and the transport to clear the way to the door, before landing the ship and coming to get you. Diyoza, along with McCreary, leads you out and to the door, setting up a rig to lower all of you down into the bunker through the hole they have now blasted into the ceiling over the atrium of the bunker. Bellamy volunteers to go first, eager to see Octavia, and he stands patiently as they harness him up.

He turns to look at you as they prepare to lower him down, and you see a look of fear pass over his face. You smile, reach out, and grab his hand. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He nods, and they lower him down, already hooking you up to the second harness, making sure Bellamy is out of the way as they start to lower you. As you descend from the bright sky above into the bunker below, you’re shocked at how different the bunker looks from the last time you were in it over 6 years ago. The atrium is dark, lit mostly by torches, and a fence now surrounds the walkway. You see a chair as you’re lowered inside, and it reminds you of a throne, solitary and commanding. As you near the last few feet to the ground, you see weapons attached to the fence around the atrium, and you swear you see blood staining the floor around you. When your feet finally touch the ground, you see Bellamy nearby, held tight in an embrace with Octavia, who also looks entirely different from the girl you left behind.

Her hair is shorter, her clothes a lot more reminiscent of those worn by Grounder royalty and Commanders. She has red war paint stretching from her eyes to her hairline, making her whole forehead a blood red color. As soon as she sees you touch down beside Bellamy, she pulls away and steps over to you, pulling you into a hug. You smile despite your shock at the changes, genuinely happy to see her. When she pulls away, you can see that she’s smiling too. “I’ve missed you, sister.”

Her smile widens, “And I’ve missed you.”

She looks away as someone else is lowered behind you, and you look up to see Clarke on her way down. Bellamy walks over and helps you out of the harness, tugging on it to let them know they can pull it back up again. It retreats and Clarke finally makes it to the ground, disconnecting from the lead and tugging on it before walking over to greet Octavia. They don’t hug, they just grip each other’s arms in the way of the warriors, before you all look up at the current descending figures. Diyoza and McCreary are lowered into the space, looking around at everything in shock, and Octavia looks at them with a glare. “Who are they?”

Diyoza turns to her with a serious look. “We're here to rescue you.”

“Why are you armed?”

Octavia walks towards the woman, and Bellamy reaches out for her, holding her back. “O, it's okay. We have an understanding.”

Clarke steps forward, looking between Octavia and Indra, who has now joined your small group. “Before we get to that, where's our mom?”

“I'll take them to their mother.”

Clarke nods at Indra in thanks, both of them already walking away, and you turn to look at Bellamy, not wanting to leave him behind. But he gives you the same reassuring smile that you gave him a few minutes ago, and he whispers, “Go, I’ll come find you.”

You nod and turn and jog off after Indra and Clarke, catching up with them quickly as they lead you through the bunker and to a door down an abandoned hallway. Indra unlocks it before stepping inside, motioning for you and Clarke to wait. You stand at the open door with Clarke, both of you hearing your mom’s voice from inside. “Is it over?”

“He's alive...for now.”

You and Clarke exchange a look, unsure who she’s talking about, but you don't get time to ask, because Indra motions for you to come in. You and Clarke walk inside together, greeting your mother at the same time. “Hi, Mom.”

She turns towards you both, her jaw dropped in shock, not sure she’s actually seeing you. You and Clarke kneel in front of her, and she lifts a hand to each of your faces, confirming that you’re real, before she pulls you both in for a hug. “My girls. How? When did you-”

Indra cuts her off, “We should move, now.”

You and Clarke pull away, and Clarke smiles at your mother, tears in her eyes. For the first time, you get a good look at her, and worry crosses your features instantly. Your mom looks exhausted, dark bags hanging low from her eyes, and her skin is pale and clammy. You glance at Clarke, and you can see the same worry on her face, but she ignores it and whispers, “Everything's gonna be okay, but first, we have to get you out of here.”

All three of you stand, and your mom turns to Indra. “What happens to Marcus?”

You look at her, brows pulling together in confusion as you remember the “he” she was asking about moments ago. “Kane? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“He was arrested for something he didn’t do, and sent into the fighting pits.”

You and Clarke exchange a confused expression, before you turn to look between your mom and Indra. “Fighting pits? What the hell are you-”

“There’s no time to explain now.” Indra’s words cut you off, before she turns to your mom. “I'll get him to the ground. After that, it's up to you.”

Indra turns and walks from the room, leading the three of you back towards the atrium. Your mom stops her so she can grab her medical bag, and you turn and look back towards the exit, eager to reunite with Bellamy. Clarke squeezes your hand and smiles at you. “Go be with him. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You squeeze her hand and smile back at her. “Thank you.”

You jog back to the atrium, the sound of chanting growing louder as you get closer. You’re just outside the doors when you make out the words, “Kom folau, oso na gyon op.”

From the ashes, we will rise. You smile at the words as you step into the room, eyes lifting to see Octavia rising through the air, up towards the ground. You make your way over to Bellamy, noting the worry on his face, but it fades as soon as he sees you moving closer. He smiles at you, motioning for you to step up and be the next one to the surface. You stand there as he hooks you up in the harness, in disbelief that the two of you are standing this close, breathing the same air, smiling at each other. As soon as he has you hooked up, McCreary hooks Bellamy up, and both of you are lifted from the bunker, followed by the same chant as before.

You, Bellamy, and Octavia spend the next few minutes greeting everyone that is brought to the surface, including Clarke and Indra, your mother staying behind to wait with Kane. After a while, Miller is brought up, and he grins at you and Bellamy, both of you grinning back at him. “Thank you.”

Bellamy pulls him onto a hug, “It's good to see you.”

When Bellamy pulls away, he sees a gun at Nate’s side and his face falls into one of disappointment. Nate’s expression falls a little, clearly not eager to disappoint Bellamy, and Bellamy turns and walks over to Octavia, his voice lecturing. “The deal was no weapons.”

You hug Miller before helping him out of the harness, swinging it to the nearby prisoner to get it ready for the next person. You hear Octavia retort, “Not my deal.”

“I need to talk to you in private. Give me a second, then follow me.”

Bellamy turns and glances at you before he walks away, climbing down the rubble and heading into one of the nearby abandoned buildings. Octavia waits before following, and as soon as she climbs down, out of earshot, Indra radioes your mother. “Okay, bring him up.”

As soon as she gets confirmation that they’re on their way, Indra motions for you and Clarke to follow her down the rubble and onto the ground below. She steps slightly out of view just in case Octavia returns, and you all wait in silence for Kane’s arrival. It takes a few minutes, but you finally see him on the surface, shielding his eyes from the bright sun with his cuffed hands. The prisoners unhook him and then Kane climbs down the rubble, looking for the three of you. As soon as his eyes land on you and Clarke, his whole face lights up, splitting into a grin. You smile back at him, happy to see the father figure, and he reaches Clarke first. She hugs him tight, smiling, before stepping back and allowing you to hug him. You give him a squeeze, letting your hug say all the things you don't have time to say, before you pull away and look at him. He looks good, better than a lot of the people you’ve seen in the bunker. He does looks tired and there’s a small cut on his head, but his hair is longer and he otherwise looks healthy.

Indra presses something into his hands, muttering, “Wait for night. If you get caught, I won't be able to help you.”

She turns and immediately walks away, and as soon as she does, Kane opens his hand, revealing the keys to his handcuffs. He tucks them into his pocket as your mom walks over, now free from the bunker, and she hugs you and Clarke again as soon as she sees you. You look towards the building that Octavia and Bellamy walked into, watching as Bellamy comes out, and you pull away from your mom quickly, “Octavia’s coming, you two need to hide.”

Clarke grabs your mom’s hand and looks towards you, “I know where to take them. Keep an eye on Octavia.”

“Will do.”

The three of them run off, and Octavia and Bellamy join you a minute later, and the three of you resume your assistance in the bunker exodus. You do this for a few hours, until the sun sets and darkness blankets the destroyed city, the flame from torches the only thing lighting up the streets. As you’re helping a couple out of the bunker, you hear a blast come from nearby, and Bellamy turns to look at you in shock. “What the hell was that?”

You think of the explosion on the ridgeline, the sound you heard then the exact same as the one you heard just now. You give him a worried look as you turn and move towards the source, “I know what that was, and it’s not good.”

Bellamy and Octavia follow you as you run through the streets towards an old fountain, Diyoza’s voice growing louder as you get closer. “Sorry about your pretty fountain, but that was only half power. I know most of you are armed. If anyone moves for a weapon, you'll see what full power does to human flesh. It's not pretty.”

As soon as you and Bellamy get eyes on her, he starts to yell, “Hey! Hey, what the hell are you doing? One call from me-”

“Make your call.”

You all come to a stop across from Diyoza, you in the middle, Bellamy to your left, Octavia to your right. Bellamy looks worried as he pulls his radio from his pocket. “Raven, come in. You read me?”

Your stomach drops in fear as Raven’s voice never comes through, and Diyoza smirks at you. “The deal's off, but nobody has to get hurt.”

Clarke comes running up just then, and Diyoza turns to look at her. “Where's your mother?”

Octavia steps closer to Diyoza, face set into a glare. “She's our doctor, you can't have her.”

McCreary turns his weapon on Clarke, and you feel fear grip you tight at the thought of what that gun can do, especially since you’re all standing so close. “She asked you a question, where is the doctor?”

A different prisoner turns his weapon on Octavia, and her people start to move closer, hands moving towards their weapons at the sight of the threat to their leader. Diyoza yells at her prisoners to stop, and Octavia yells to her people, “No! Hold.”

Everyone stands staring at each other in a tense showdown, just as a voice yells out from around the corner, “I'm right here! Don't shoot, we'll come without a fight.”

Your mom and Kane walk into view, hands lifted in surrender, coming to a stop near Clarke. As soon as Octavia sees Kane, she spits out, “I bet you will, traitor.”

Diyoza looks at your mother in surprise. “We?”

“The two of us. Those are my terms.”

Diyoza smirks, looking between you and Clarke. “I see where your daughters get it from. Take them both.”

You and Clarke turn to your mom in shock, just as two prisoners step forward to grab her and Kane. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“I love you both.”

“Wait, mom-”

They are led away before either of you can finish another word, and Diyoza looks over your group, voice rising to be heard. “Okay then, here are my terms. The valley is ours. Any attempt to get there will be met by overwhelming force. As long as you stay here, we won't have a problem. Is that a problem?”

“What about Raven and Murphy?”

She looks at your boyfriend, nodding once. “For now, insurance.” She starts to back away, yelling to the prisoners nearby. “Let's go, on me.”

Everyone moves except for one man, the prisoner whose weapon is trained on Octavia. Diyoza yells, “Szybunka, that's an order!”

The man stays frozen for a moment before he finally starts to back away, and you glance at Octavia, watching a smirk pass over her face. Szybunka must see it too, because he lets out a frustrated yell and turns the weapon towards her, firing. You barely have enough time to process what’s happening, but you see someone from the bunker dive towards Octavia just as Bellamy tugs on your hand, trying to pull you away from the blast. Unfortunately the blast hits someone, blowing them to pieces, and the rest of you are sent flying by the force of the explosion.

You and Bellamy are sent to the side, catching the outskirts of the blast, and Octavia goes flying backwards, shielded from the brunt of the damage, but taking most of the blast. You can hear the sound of Diyoza yelling to the prisoners, but you can't make out the words over the ringing in your ears. Everything feels muffled and wrong, and it takes a few seconds for your senses to return, and when they do, you almost wish they hadn’t. Your shoulder is on fire, smashed from the way you landed, and you’re sure you ripped open a few stitches. Your head is throbbing, and you start to worry that you cracked it on the concrete when you feel a warm hand slide beneath your neck and another wrap around your body, pulling you closer.

You pull open your eyes, Bellamy’s face swimming in your vision, and you watch his mouth move, though you can't quite make out what he’s saying. It takes a few more seconds for the ringing to quiet down, a chorus of groans and screams alerting you to the pain of others, and finally Bellamy’s voice cuts through the noise, “Natshana, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

You nod weakly, trying to gather yourself. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You sit up, groaning as you do, reaching over to touch your shoulder. When you pull your hand away, you see black blood on your fingers, and Bellamy must see it too because he reaches around to your shoulder and peels back your bandage. You’re sure it must look pretty bad because Bellamy pulls you to your feet, eyes frantically looking around. “We need to find Clarke.”

Alarms go off in your brain at the mention of her name, and you start to worry until your eyes fall on her nearby, already tending to someone’s wounds, looking fine. You sigh in relief, and Bellamy supports your weight as he tries to lead you there, pausing in place when Indra and Octavia appear in front of you. You’re relieved to see that she’s alive, blood splattered all over the side of her face, though you aren't sure if it’s hers. She’s leaning most of her weight on Indra, clearly hurting, but she’s alive, and that’s enough for now. Octavia, however, seems to think otherwise, because she’s pissed. Face pulled into a glare, directed at her brother. “I trusted you. This is your fault.”

You hear Miller yell from somewhere behind you, “Blodreina, what do we do now?”

Octavia sets her jaw, already walking away from her brother. “Now we go to war.”

You look up at Bellamy, watching as anxiety passes over his face, suddenly right back to where you were before Praimfaya came. Six years spent in three different locations, in space, on the ground, in the bunker, and you end up back at war for the last survivable spot on the planet. You remember Bellamy’s words to you and Kane when the three of you were locked up by Roan before Praimfaya, and you whisper, “We always end up here.”

The words don’t alleviate Bellamy's anxiety, and when you glance over to Clarke, you can see that she’s thinking the same thing that you are. Maybe none of you are as good as you think you are. Maybe you’re all just killers, and that’s all you’ll ever be. Maybe you will always be at war, one way or another, unable to live at peace.

Maybe you’re the problem.

next chapter

#the 100 rewrite #the 100 #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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quetzalcoatlzz · 3 years

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The History behind the Fiction (aka doing tons of research for my don’t starve fancomic)

Howdy to all my friends and readers!!!! I’m real glad y'all are enjoying my Western AU! Ive got a lot of stories planned for this world and I hope yall will stick around for em all!

I don’t know if you can tell....but I love the old west. It’s one of my special interests since i was a little kid!!! Naturally, since I love the old west- I like to go out of my way to learn as much as I can about it!

Lord there’s a lot to learn though- Sorry if this post doesn't cover all my research- but if y'all have any questions please feel free to ask!! (Its gonna be a long infodump post- so be warned!)

First off Id like to talk about the characters and the setting!

I decided to set the story in the early to mid 1870s in Texas, in the fictional town of Constant. Also known as the Gilded age, post Civil War America was a period of rapid economic growth, expansion and innovation. It was also a time when many of the Old west’s most famous legends were active, and making a name for themselves! Think Red Cloud, Wild Bill Hickok, Wyatt Earp, Calamity Jane, etc.

Anyways, theres a lot of good material to draw inspiration from in this era, so thats what I did!!

Wilson is a newly graduated doctor- which i found fitting for him due to his love of science and scientific advancements.

(here is my first sketch of him!!! and his outfit!!!)

Ready made clothing was common in this era, and since wilson is relatively short- he wears elastic sleeve garters to keep his sleeves the appropriate length!

I havent shown many of his tools in the comic yet- but I frequently reference this catalogue of medical equipment to inform the procedures!

I have a book of the history of costume that let me get a good sense of the different styles of dress between working class men and upper class men in the era, but I also frequently referenced this 1873 publication of the west-end gazette

Here are the images that I partially designed Wilson and Maxwells Costumes from

Maxwell is a wealthy Rancher with lots of land , living just outside of the town of Constant. Beef was in VERY high demand, and Maxwell makes his fortune by managing Longhorns.

Max went through a couple of iterations where I tried to incorporate his victorian skin hairstyle, but I found that it didn’t fit the era very well, based on hairstyles seen in photographs during the era. Plus, I feel that the heat of the southern united states would probably not fare well with poor old max.

His brother Jack lives in San Fransisco- and has made his fortunes through his shipping company- which primarily exports goods from California to New York City. He lives in a comfortable home with his wife and children- but ever since Abigail died, Wendy has been acting strangely.

Wendy is one of my favorite characters to draw and write for, as well as one of the most fun characters to research for!!! She is in mourning, for her dear departed sister Abigail. her bonnet is based on those found in the M’me Demorest of winter 1860. (no reason to have a new bonnet when your old one will suffice)

I dress her plainly in the comic, and a bit behind the fashions of the times due to her associations with her family’s wealth and image, and the demise of Abigail. Her dress is shaped after those from the late 1860s-1870s.

(I have lots of resources for women’s fashions during this era and way more- but I have found the delineator , M’me. Demorest’s Mirror of Fashions, and Godey’s Lady’s book to be some of the best resources for fashion and cultural references of the times!!!)

Usually mourning for a sibling is worn for 6 months, but Wendy definitely feels that her grief is enough to wear mourning forever.

Before she was in mourning though- she and Abigail would sport the latest in young ladies fashions! Here they are sporting an Alice style hair ribbon, and a lovely dress found in the met’s fashion plate collection as well as a lovely American casket

Aside from fashion, I try my best to keep the set dressing accurate! and it’s not just about props, but about the actual architecture that the characters inhabit.

The Carter ranch house is based on the floor plans that can be found in Hobbs’s Architecture - (jump to page 196 to see the house i modeled the residence after specifically)

The carriage too- can be found here in Brewster & Baldwin’s illustrated Catalogue !

The interior of Mr. Carter’s Home is decorated in Gothic Revival style- as can be seen in the details on the banister, as well as the ornament found in the furniture in his study. Some elements, such as his easy chair, are based on regency furniture. I find it would be too unrealistic for a crotchety old man in the American west to be entirely on top of the latest interior decorations, and besides- why throw out a perfectly good chair?

I designed his carpet myself based on english needlepoint rugs made during the gothic revival era, and as with Maxwell’s tea cups and the wallpaper in the hallway, decorated it with patterns based on the evil flowers of don’t starve.

The sconces, doorknobs curtains are also based on productions from the era, though I confess that I have lost a few of my sources. (I’ll try my best to find them though!!)

If anyone is interested in looking through my sources, here is my archive.org collection! I hope yall find this stuff as compelling as I do!!

Thank yall again for reading!!! I love u!!!

#long post #primary sources #19th century #dont starve western au #my research

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katblu42 · 3 years

Text

The End?

This is something I wrote for a creative writing competition. The challenge was to write something (within a week) starting at the end and working back to the beginning. For some reason the prompt/challenge sparked this little piece, which is pretty much non-fiction. I guess it came at a time when the subject matter was on my mind. I wanted to post it now because a related anniversary is coming up.

There are warnings!!! Please heed the tags. Death, Sickness, Hospitals, Cancer. (If more warnings/tags are needed please let me know so I can make appropriate edits!)

Below the cut for length and warnings.

This was not how their story was supposed to end. There were still so many chapters they had hoped to write together, so many journeys toward possible futures that they had imagined spending side by side. She never anticipated being a childless widow before she had even turned forty-two. She’d never considered being faced with a hopeless situation, or the unenviable decision to allow them to stop treatment and let him slip away. Treatments that could prolong his life a little, but not fix him. Their plans had never included his hand desperately clinging to hers as she tearfully told him it was okay for him to let go and leave her behind.

He had wanted to fight. It broke her heart that there was nothing the combined efforts of all the medical staff could do to support his fight. It was a losing battle. His body was giving up on him, organs shutting down even though his mind was not ready to give up. The three weeks he lasted in the ICU had left him battle-scarred and exhausted, but he had still not wanted to give in, or let her down.

His Forty-second birthday was less than a week before the end. It was spent with family, visiting two by two according to ICU visitor limits. He was barely able to communicate by then, his lips scabbed and bloody, and a ventilator tube in his throat inserted by tracheostomy. The medical team had not wanted the tube to remain in his mouth any longer, but he was too weak to breathe on his own.

He had been off the ventilator for a while, during one of the hopeful moments. They’d been able to remove the breathing tube, and they had been able to reduce the blood pressure medication for a while. His temperature had stabilised and she’d focused on the improvements, encouraging him to think positive. Facing the alternative had been unthinkable.

She had put such hope in the drug she’d had to sign permission for them to administer – one that had to be shipped urgently from interstate, that had approval for use in the US, but not here. They had told her it was possible too much time had passed for the reversal drug to be fully effective. It had been more than five days since the chemo treatment which now needed reversing had ended.

Hope was all she’d had at that point. Seeing him finally settled in Intensive Care with all the monitors and their beeps and alarms, the ventilator with its click and hiss, the hum of the heat pump regulating his temperature, the blood transfusion and IV lines all keeping her unconscious husband alive, she had to cling to every scrap of hope she could. His immune system was so compromised she had to wear the gown and gloves and mask just to sit in the corner of the room and let the silent tears fall.

The ICU waiting room was deserted during the wee hours. She and her Mum stayed until dawn before buzzing the door intercom to enquire about seeing him. His Dad had left after the surgeon had spoken to them all some hours before, explaining that in his current state surgery was not a viable option for the infection in his gut. The previous wait in Emergency had been shorter, and the waiting room slightly more comfortable, but the constant worry and the lack of information had been excruciating.

Two ambulances had attended their tiny unit in answer to her call, such was the seriousness of his condition. Despite having four uniformed people fussing over her husband, she had not been given much information about what was happening. She’d been instructed to get all his medication together to bring with her to the hospital, then left to change out of her pyjamas while they loaded him into an ambulance. All this happened in a blur of action and confusion. Less than 20 minutes before they all headed to the hospital she had been performing chest compressions on him on the tiled floor of their cramped bathroom.

The Emergency Services operator on the other end of the phone had talked her through the CPR procedure. She’d learned it years before in first aid training, but having to actually perform the chest compressions on someone she loved was still horrifyingly daunting. He hadn’t stopped breathing, but the ES operator had assured her CPR was necessary because his gasping breaths had been so far apart.

She had never had to call an ambulance for anyone before, but it didn’t take a genius to see she needed help. His level of responsiveness had decreased so rapidly after she’d found him slumped forward sitting on the toilet, unable to sit up unaided. The yellow tinge to his skin had startled her. He had cried out to her in such a way that instinct had brought her rushing from the loungeroom without taking a moment to process anything more than the feeling that something was very wrong.

He had just wanted to sleep, so she tried to give him space to do that, sitting quietly in the loungeroom while he stayed in the darkened bedroom. He had refused to let her bring him something to eat, which had concerned her. She’d offered to call the hospital for advice, knowing he was uncomfortable and wanting to make sure he was okay, but he had refused to let her, insisting that there was no need to make a fuss. She’d arrived home from work around five, and suspected he had been in bed all day, “just feeling a bit yuck.” Later she would feel so much guilt for not trusting her instinct to get help for him then.

For the first couple of days after his chemo treatment ended he had seemed okay, feeling upbeat, acting normal. He had been in high spirits despite the prospect of months of treatment still ahead. There had been a little grumbling about feeling a little bit off, but that was to be expected, right?

His first (and only) round of chemo had been a five day affair. Three medications, two of which had been administered within a day at the clinic and the third he had carried around in a little pack while it slowly released over the five days. The plan had been laid out by the oncology team, with lots of consultations and discussions during the preceding weeks. He was to have two or three rounds of the chemo drugs, then radiation treatment would begin. Combination therapy to treat the cancers in his mouth and throat.

There had been months of discomfort, reducing his ability to eat properly, or enjoy food. He had lost a considerable amount of weight before she had been able to convince him to finally go and see a doctor and find out what was wrong. He’d always been the type to avoid going to a doctor unless he was literally at death’s door. She knew that part of what had held him back for so long was the fear that it could be something serious.

He didn’t want to ruin their holiday, but he promised he would see someone about the sore throat when they got back from the Gold Coast. It was only a week spent away, but they had visited all their favourite haunts. This was one of their regular holiday spots during their ten year marriage. They always felt like big kids, visiting the theme parks and the beaches, playing mini golf, messing about in the resort pool.

The two of them had been lucky to share many little trips away over the years. They’d had many more days of laughter and smiles than they’d had of tears and troubles. There had been precious gifts exchanged between them – but not many in a physical form she could lay her hands on. Each of them had broadened the other’s horizons, sparking interest in new experiences, sharing the activities and pass-times they loved.

Their wedding day had been filled with fun and friends and family. She had seen then how many people his bright and generous personality drew to him. So many people had wanted to share in their joy, and had told her she would never find a more loyal and loving mate. All the elegance and finery, the colour and music, the celebration of their union had been a wonderful way to begin their journey hand in hand to the future.

His proposal on the beach, early in the morning in a place he had been holidaying with his family every year since he was tiny, had taken her by surprise. He had asked her to come with him for a walk. They had travelled quite a long way up the beach, just watching the waves crash on the shore, listening to the shrieks of the gulls and making small talk. Then he had dropped to one knee and asked the question. She needed a moment to take in what was happening. His heart just about stopped, thinking she was hesitating. She had said yes, and put him out of his nervous agony.

Their first “proper” date was a walk to the local McDonalds for burgers and sundaes. Neither of them had much money, so neither had wanted to go anywhere fancy. She had been happy with the little things – like the way he always walked beside her on the footpath placing himself between her and the busy road. He was not rich, nor did he have impressive style or a brainiac’s intelligence, but he was open and funny and kind and she wanted to spend time with him.

She hadn’t ever been to the trivia night at the local bowling club, so she wasn’t sure what to expect, or how it all worked. The lady who hosted the quiz gave her an answer sheet and steered her towards a table, telling her the young man with the twinkle in his blue eyes, and the dimpled smile would look after her. That was the moment their story had begun.

#creative writing #tw death #tw hospital #tw cancer #tw sickness #two years without him come Sunday

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goth-girlfriend · 4 years

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Hi could I get a match up please? I’m a straight female and i’m about 5’2 and ive got long straight hair. I’m not too shy like i still find it hard to talk to people but if im more comfortable im really open and talkative. I’m really protective over my friends. I am really impulsive like I once woke up and decided to just get three ear piercings. I’m a dancer that specializes in ballet and I love playing the piano and the violin. I’m also love to cuddle everyone and I’m lowkey really clingy

🥦🥦🥦 💚💚💚 🥦🥦🥦 💚💚💚 🥦🥦🥦

🥦Midoriya🥦

Hear me out, precious broccoli boi, is confused as to how, but not why he fell for you. Especially during the impulsive times, he panics and just tries to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You both start off awkward, but no one, NO ONE can resist his bright eyes and smile. So somehow, somewhere, along the lines, you found yourself actually becoming friends with him.

Now, realizing he liked you took a while on the both of you. He was to focused on becoming the best hero, that when you cheered him on he assumed it’s because you’re a great friends. And when he got blush’s and nervous around you, you assumed it was because he was just nervous around girls. The irritation that filled Mina was overwhelming, how could two people not see the connection? The OBVIOUS CONECTION?!

Well, that was at the start of your fiend ship, now, it’s confusing. One day your both sitting in silence, smiling at nothing, occasionally brushing shoulders and hands walking down the hall, the next talking and laughing disrupting the peace. Occasional platonic hand holding when fear strikes and freezes your joint and all you can do is quake in the face of fear.

But, what really made your classmates think you were dating was the day Mina shared a video of you sitting at a piano, playing staring gently at the keys, eyes slightly lidded, soft smile, the pads of your fingers gently grazing each key, and the boy in question, was smiling, staring at you, a faint blush on his cheeks, his smile was gentle but wide, his hands resting in his lap as he watched how you played with pure enjoyment until your heart was content.

But what he didn’t know was that the song you played, some what reminded you of him. You didn’t know much about his past, but he did tell you a fair amount, and now you can only connect him to one thing, “Talk To Me” by Cavetown.

Now, taking the lyrics quite litteraly he once messaged you at 2 almost 3 in the morning, worrying about himself and doubting he’ll be a hero. And just like that, impulses took over, you grabbed your pillow blanket and didn’t answer his messages. He was scared away from his phone at the banging on his door.

It opened and in you cans complimenting and praising him in hushed shouts. It would’ve been threatening and scary had the words not been so kind. He cried, and you held him. You both sat on the floor talking it out, and soon your adrenaline dropped and there you were, sitting leaning against his bed, legs stretched out, his right hand clasped between both of yours in your lap as your head rested on his shoulders. He yawned and your eyes started to feel heavy.

That day you spent the night, he’d managed to get you both into his bed, he faced away from you to give you a sense of privacy, what he didn’t expect was for you to hug his chest form behind and press you cheek between his shoulders. His hands held yours over his chest, legs intertwined. Some point through the night you both shifted, now laying on your sides facing each other, you still hugged his chest, one of his arms hugging your waist the other you used as a pillow so he could keep his hand on the back of your head holding it secure against his neck and shoulder.

The morning was normal, you both went about that Friday as usual, and it would be a lie to say this was the only time it happened. Months passed before it was made obvious to you, you maybe might just maybe, if you look at it the right way....like him.

:) you love him, and well? He didn’t say it straight out because it turns out, this boy? Hopeless romantic. Only when his minds not cluttered with being the best hero he can be.

He accidentally confessed infront of his class during a training, Aizawa just watched blankly AND EVERYONE minus Shoto, Iida, Momo, Toko and Shoji acted out about not being able to believed our guys weren’t already dating. His small speech was cute to you and squeezed your heart and a few other hearts.

“Y/n,” your name was a whisper in the dark, you turned around seeing the sunrise finally starting, it’s light shinning behind him, the green haired boy you dragged out, on a Sunday morning, at 5:20 to watch a sunrise on the beach that had recently be cleaned up.

“Come on! Almost there!” You rushed back to grab his hand and pulled him along, in one hand a violin case, in the other, now his hand. You’d waited for this moment, and now it’s here, he didn’t know why, but for you, it was something special to share sunrises this beautiful with someone you adore.

He hugged as you finally mad wit to the beach and stopped, right at the edge of the dock, you kicked off your shoes and sat down toes touching the cold morning waters, giving you chills, but filling you with a sense of nostalgia that made your bones ache. Still you smiled and patted the spot next to you. The sun now infront of you, you placed the case aside and leaned your head on his shoulder, he smiled down at you before leaning his own head on yours, both your hand and his sat between you fingers brushing slightly as the sun started to make the water glimmer in ways that became blinding. You sighed, happy you had a friend that would put up with your strange antics. You wiggle dcloser to him and took his hand in yours.

“I want to play something!” You said and stood up, letting his hand go with regret.

He watched you as you pulled out your violin, he was scared it’s take damage along the trip, seeing as you didn’t worry much he assumed it was fine, getting comfortable in a stance you took you got ready, closing your eyes and testing the strings before you started.

He watched in aw at how your fingers moved and how you seemed at peace with it. The way your head swayed and a smile made its way to you face, reaching your eyes even if he couldn’t see them.

The rest of the day, you convinced him to walk around with you. Both of you just wasting time and avoiding studies. It’s obvious to anyone who’d seen you that day, that with the two of you, even at such a young age, Love was pure, it was beautiful in its raw form, and here, the two unknowing held it, true beauty with out knowing.

Until, Midoriya was smacked upside the head and yelled at by Mina, he finally understood, he understood why with you, things had become different. Why he was no longer nervous with you, why he could tell you embarrassing things and stories and not feel judged, when you said the words talk to me about anything, he didn’t say yeah and internally not believe, he said “I Will.” Knowing he would. He now understands why, he looks for your hand on cold days, and your form on nights you’d usually come over to make him watch a movie, he’d cared enough to track your impulses, and kinda made a messy time line of repetition, also being able to calculate when it might happen. He loves watching you play and enjoy the sounds you make with the things you love. He’d only seen you dance a number of times, by he’s kept them all in his heart remembering the concentrated look and passion in your eyes. Why you went to UA is beyond him, your do much better following your passion.

But that’s not the point, the point is, he started talking to you like normal, and then before you knew it, the class was watching as he started to really let out his raw emotions.

“Y/n!” He called for you, why so loudly you’ll never know, you were right beside, like you promised you’d always be.

“I love you!” He said in a loud voice but not screaming, his eyes forced closed as he looked down, hands in fists, “I love everything about you,” it was a whisper.

“Your smile, the way your playing shows your hearts true intentions, I love the way you live your own life, doing things when you want to, the way you want, I love how you care about others deeper than the words that come from your mouth. You believe that I can become a true hero, youve supported me and in the nights when I feel at my lowest, you spent hours talking to me, and helping, holding my hand and wiping my tears away, I love the way your hands hold on tight when you feel fear, and how you trust me to protect you, I love how no matter what comes you’ll always put yourself in the way to save others, but please, let me be the one to wipe your tears, and hold your hand when your scared, let me be your hero.” He let out a few tears.

But you were about to start ugly crying, the tears came out, you brought yours to cup then over your mouth and wiped your tears away before you hugged him and cried into his neck and shoulder, he hugged your waist, chin finding it’s place on your head.

“I love you Midoriya, I wanted to tell you but I was afraid. Now I know, that I never should’ve been afraid to love you.” You squeezed him and squeezed you back.

You were broken out of your crying by Aizawa complaining about wasting time and all of you needing to get to practice. So you did, and the two of you crushed it, full of joy and drive, fueling you to succeed and prove your worth to the other.

The nights never changed, you still cuddled into his side hugging him, he still held you tight to his side, hands running through your hair, only now, you’d fluster him by kissing his jaw or cheek at random times to keep him on the edge of his seat.

“Good night, Midoriya,” you hugged his side, “I...love you.”

You watched him blush and he turned resting his chin on your head so you wouldn’t see his face, “I-I love you too.” He brought one of his hands to cover his face as you laughed quietly against his chest relishing in his warmth and the love you could feel radiating off of him.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Forgive me, I know that the song is about four pieces overlaid, but I love it, and I think you guys should give it a listen. I completely forgot about it since....6th grade years???

I hope you like it! Nows a perfect time for a water break! Just saying! 💙

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summahsunlight · 4 years

Text

Perhaps It’s Fate, Part 12

Rating: T, to be safe

Word Count: 1587

Summary: After joining the Resistance as a mechanic, you were happy to keep to yourself, until a little orange and white bb unit and his master wander into your workshop one day.

Pairings: Poe Dameron/Reader

Warnings: Angst, a lot of it

Taglist: @ms-dont-care, @starless-eyes-remain, @elmoakepoke, @marvelobsessiononastick, @kiaralein, @softly-sad, @totelpoedameron, @ordinarymom1, @sevvysaurus

Taglist is still open! Let me know if you want to be added❤️ Thanks for all your support. I’m so happy that you are enjoying this story😘

Poe didn’t remember much prior to the crash--just that he was thrown from the TIE-fighter and woke up, at night, in the desert. Dehydrated, hungry--his only thoughts were of finding a way off this planet. He wasn’t sure if the First Order had found BB-8, or that the Resistance even knew that the map was with his droid, He was pretty sure they thought he was dead. If he stayed out in the desert another day he would be dead.

No idea of where he was exactly, Poe just started walking. There was no sign of the fighter--he wondered if poor Finn had survived. Poe had told the stormtrooper to eject before the TIE had crashed. He hoped Finn survived, after all, he was trying to help, trying to get away from the life of killing the First Order had bred him for. They hadn’t even bothered to give him a name--just a number--striping the man of any kind of identity. Poe had refused to call him in that in the short time they’d known each other--hence why he had given the trooper the name Finn.

His thoughts were always preoccupied by you, even when a Blarina scavenger found him. Poe just wanted to get back to D’Qar, to you, to keep his promise to you that he was going to come home. He knew that the Blarina didn’t trust him, it wasn’t until Poe had shoved him out of the way to take over driving the speeder, effectively saving their skins that the Blarina agreed to help him.

Great, Poe thought. Just get me out of here. Just get me home to Yavin IV where I can pick my fighter up and go back to the Resistance.

He didn’t remember much after that--not until he woke up and his father was staring at him, concerned. “You told me not to worry,” Kes scolded his son, “but look at you--kriff Poe! What the hell did they do to you?”

“Everything they could to get me to talk,” Poe murmured.

“Clearly you didn’t talk,” Kes said with a shake of his head.

“No. They sent Kylo Ren in to rip it from my mind.”

Kes shuddered at this and then he enveloped his son into his arms, feeling Poe stiffen at first, but then melt into his father’s embrace. Kes held his son tightly, thankful that he was alive, thankful that he had the chance to hold him, but also terrified at what his son had endured--what his son would still endure.

Poe didn’t care how old his was--his dad hugging him would always bring him comfort. If only he could stay here and not have to return to D’Qar--but the fight was just beginning. “Dad. I need to get in touch with the Resistance.”

“Hmm... the girl you told me about?”

“What...no... well... yes... I mean... she has to be worried.”

“Don’t worry, son,” Kes said with a chuckle. “We’ll get in touch with them.”

“I was so stupid, Dad,” Poe lamented, thinking of you, “I promised her that I was going to come back.”

He looked at his son; Kes could see the guilt in Poe’s eyes. He shook his head and sighed, heavily, “Well, you didn’t break your promise... you will be going back to her.”

Blinking some tears away, Poe moved away from his father. “But right now she thinks I’m dead. Her family was murdered by the First Order... she has panic attacks over it... I’ve put her through hell, Dad!”

Kes rested his hand on Poe’s shoulder. “I think she’ll understand; I hardly doubt she’ll be angry at you.”

Poe swiped his hand over his face. “You’re... you’re probably right, Dad. I’m just... I’m tired...”

“And hungry I bet.”

“Yeah, that too.”

“Come on,” Kes said, pulling Poe towards the kitchen, “let’s have something to eat, get you cleaned up a bit and then we can contact the Resistance.”

Following his father’s lead, Poe went with Kes. He was hungry, and thirsty, and tired--but he was also wrought with worry. BB-8 was missing, you thought he was dead--the Resistance had no idea where he was and that he was alive--there was a good chance that they had no idea he had put the map in his droid. For all Poe knew, BB-8 could be dismantled at the hands of the First Order by now.

And Finn--Poe continued to wonder what had happened to the man who helped him escape, who gave him the chance to live. He wondered if Finn had found the holo of you in the pocket of his jacket, the one that Poe carried with him on every mission.

His heart clenched thinking about you--how you must have felt so alone in the galaxy. Poe had never wanted to hurt you, he wanted to protect you and keep you safe. He didn’t want you to feel anymore pain.

“Poe--eat,” Kes scolded him, snapping him back to reality.

Food had been placed before him and Poe realized he had just been staring at it. “Thanks, Dad,” he mumbled before gingerly picking through the food.

Kes kept a watchful eye over his son. When the Blarina had showed up with Poe, he’d been shocked to see how battered his son was. After giving him water, and helping him lay down, Poe had slept for nearly eight hours. In that time Kes had reached out to Leia to let her know that Poe was safe--but if he told his son that now, Poe would jump in that damn x-wing and fly back to base.

Finishing up his food, Poe stood. “I'm gonna go send a message to the Resistance, let them know I’m okay and I’ll be on my way back soon.”

“I already spoke to Leia.”

“You did? When?”

“While you were sleeping.”

“Why did you wait to tell me?”

Looking at his son, incredulously, Kes sighed. “Because I knew you’d be back in that x-wing before getting rest, before eating--Poe you have to take care of yourself. You’re no good to the Resistance half dead.”

Even though he knew his father was right, Poe knew that he had to get back to the Resistance-- he had to get back to you--as quickly as possible.

Hiding away in your shop had become your routine since Poe’s death. It was the only you could cope--besides going to sit in your spot by the lake. Tinkering with parts and fixing things had always calmed you as a child when you were upset, it had calmed you and given you a purpose after your parents were killed. However, you were finding that it was not calming you now.

It just reminded you of the afternoons you’d spent in here with Poe, just talking, and you missed him twice as much as before.

“Y/N?”

“General!”

Jumping to your feet, you turned to face Leia, wiping the freshly fallen tears off your cheeks. “Can I...do you need help with something, ma’am?”

Leia smiled at you softly and shook her head. “No. Captain Wexley and Captain Kun expressed their concern for you. They haven't seen you in the mess for a few days or out on the tarmac. In fact, no one has seen much of you in the last few days.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You shouldn’t have been so naive to think that your friends were going to leave you alone during this time. “It’s just...easier... to be in here.”

“And not have to face anyone.”

“Yes.”

Quietly the general sighed. “We received further intel from Jakku; BB-8 was in the possession of a young man and young girl, they escaped the planet from the First Order. Not sure where to yet.”

Some relief settled into your chest. BB-8 was safe; if he made it back to the Resistance you wondered if the general would let him be your droid.

Leia smiled at you, picking up your thoughts. “I’m sure Poe would be honored if you took care of BeeBee for him--but I don’t think that is going to be necessary. You see, not only did we receive the intel that BB-8 escaped, we received intel that Poe escaped as well.”

“He... he did?” you sputtered, your heart clenching with hope.

“Stole a TIE-fighter,” Leia replied with whimsical smile. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Where...where is he? Why hasn’t he tried to contact us?”

“I suspect he was waiting until he got off Jakku.”

“That...that makes sense. Wait, you said...was. Have you heard from Poe?”

“Not from Poe--but his father.”

You recalled that Poe was going to change ships on Yavin IV, leaving his x-wing with his father while he traveled to Jakku. “Poe made it back to Yavin.”

Leia nodded. “Yes, he managed to get a ride with a trader from Jakku that brought him to Yavin. Y/N, he didn’t escape unscathed. The First Order tortured him to get the location of the map.”

It felt like someone had reached inside of you and was squeezing your heart. Poe--your sweet, brave Poe--subjected to torture. You knew all too well what torture at the hands of the First Order looked like; you knew the horrors that Poe had faced. It broke your heart.

Gently, Leia took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Poe is lucky to have you,” she said, “he’s going to need you... now more than ever.”

#star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #poe dameron #perhaps it's fate

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yaboyspodcastpalace · 3 years

Note

For the character asks: Jon, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane? (giving multiple suggestions so you can pick one in case you get the same character twice in different asks)

very kind of you to assume i get many asks :') THANKS ill do all of them u_u

[Send me a character and i'll tell you...]

(under the cut bc i love talking and this got long lmao)

Jon

First impression

he's a uptight prick with obvious favoritism for sasha and tim and i love him so! much!!!!!!

Impression now

my poor little mew mew hm................I've got a complicated relationship w/ jon bc i love him a lot, but i loved s1 him the most, and literally everything else just makes me really, brutally, sad ;_; The way he tries so desperately to cling to his humanity and how other characters just call him by the title imposed to him makes me wanna cry

...also he just cares so much ;_; i cry

Favorite moment

probably his interactions with georgie at the beginning of season 3!!! From s5 id say when he killed not!sasha, it felt vindictive ù_ú

Idea for a story

Dhfhdh im p basic when it comes to him ngl, either jon/tim/sasha friends to lovers or jon and desolation!tim or *something*!sasha trying to stay as human as possible, together 😔 (or just any of them living and coping together in s4 n s5)

Unpopular opinion

Im just not a fan of monster jon, at all! He's not the type of character that i enjoy seeing having a corruption arc unfortunately!! It just hurts!!! (and this Is from someone that Loves corruption arcs!!!)

Also i really hate moth jon imagery??? For not particular reason, moths are pretty, but i still hate it u_u AND THE ASSOCIATION OF GREEN W/ JON (or the beholding in general!) I CANNOT STAND IT!! i know its bc of the tma logo but guess what! Its wrong! Purple jon rights!!!

ALSO ALSO the so called pining he had for martin just.... didnt felt like that at all! i have Many feelings abt this!

Favorite relationship

either georgie in s3, or sasha!!! i love how he always praises sasha in her research in s1 and even thought he's at his driest & sharp Trying-To-Project-Professionalism-And-Skepticism she still rolls into his office, interrupts him mid statement to banter w/ him abt pronunciation n stuff and its just Normal, like that speaks volumes of how comfortable they felt around each other! they were friends gdi! the moment he realizes she died and then everytime the not!them mocks him w/ her death makes me wanna break smth q_q

im not even gonna mention tim bc even though i love their relationship It 👏 makes me👏 very 👏 sad 👏

non shippy and also staying strictly canon, i love his relationship with melanie!

Favorite headcanon

sometimes i think abt that one hc that hes really good with arcade games bc he lived near the coast and i smile bc thats cute :) also hes a trans man 💙💗🤍💗💙

Peter

First impression

Mystery evil captain man!!! Fog?? I LOVE him :)

Impression now

I STILL LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!! Hes an asshole and has a lovely voice and smile and hes not, hes not Dumb but also he's far from the whooooa evil lonely influence he think he is (played like a cheap fiddle). He also makes me sad in ways i cannot and wont describe, and its a shame that he died cuz he was the best part of season 4 😔 rip you beautiful bastard man i still miss you </3

Favorite moment

"It has blood on it" "thats Leitner's too :D". Also when martin was angry abt idk, breekon? Jon going into the coffin? Cant remember, but peter was like I said id protect the institute, that guys not my problem ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Idea for a story

dfgdfg i have..... a petermart story that dealt with the different flavor of loneliness they both had, half smut half genuine meta of both of them and theorization on the branching of an Entity & how their powers manifested in other people...

basically, peter thinks hes hot shit when it comes to loneliness but gets overwhelmed when martin accidentally projects his feelings abt *fic's plot stuff* on him, its fun stuff!

Unpopular opinion

people either paint him like an absolute devil or an incompetent idiot and hes neither of them! hes an asshole who loves being an asshole but far from the worst monster in the show and he tried to do a clever scheme TWICE on his life and 1. while it was established that any of the rituals wouldnt work singularly the Silence was still a pretty clever attempt if it weren't for gertrude! and 2. well... he tried to manipulate someone petty and formerly supposed to be a web avatar, again not his fault, cant call him stupid for trying dfgdfg

i Do think hes kinda pathetic in some sense considering his backstory, but more out of personal pity than anything else

Favorite relationship

Canonically speaking him and martin! The pull and push of them was The best thing about season 4! Peter being a quite dangerous avatar and martin, beautiful and scared and kinda feisty, confronting him every chance he gets, peter doing his best to manipulate him and martin letting him believe hes succeeding (even thought, he is, partly). They're fascinating characters to have side by side

Favorite headcanon

Partly canonically speaking him and mikaele salesa :) they do bets together! They're lonely sea men! What else could you possibly want?

Also non shippy i like thinking abt peter's and simon's relationship but thats entirely non canon ♡

Diversity wins! The heir of the lonely is a gay man!

Also I think as every rich household(?) the lukases had many paintings and peter as a kid saw the ones w/ sailing ships and imagined sailing far far away from his family. That and seaman aesthetic fucks, which is why he always has the same vibe going on as an adult. He does Not know half of the things he'd need to know to have a ship though but hey he's rich and thats all he needs

Annabelle

First impression

thats a horrible psychological experiment they're making there D:

Impression now

THATS STILL A HORRIBLE EXPERIMENT AND ANNABELLE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER............. idk! she makes me sad in the same way jon (and to a degree, peter) does! to be a living puppet for the thing that traumatized you as a kid and that later kinda killed you / is the only thing keeping you alive, to be devoted to it scrambling to believe in a higher reason for all of it to happen bc to believe otherwise is............. anyway. i love her, and i feel so so sorry for her

Favorite moment

her "maybe ive never been to the beach" at the end of ehr statement (that i fully believe its bullshit but, yknow, i love that she adds that), most of her convos with martin, her "i told you this might happen" "you did, you did" with mikaele

Idea for a story

i think a lot about her having conversations w/ either mikaele (platonically) or sasha (shippy) and their different points of views and treat with her making her doubt the web a bit

Unpopular opinion

listen, listen, i know it sounds like im woobifying her i Know it but reading the scraps of her story how can i Not feel sorry for her? when the story framed her very similar to jon? the supernatural childhood encounter that gave them arachnophobia and the subsequential joining with an Entity against her will? the fact that both the story and the fans treat her like a spider woman always sat very very bad to me, and the fact that the story itself always framed her like a villain (considering All The Other Characters that get the benefit of the doubt) was extremely disappointing

Favorite relationship

her and mikaele!!!!!!! wish we could have seen more scenes of just the two of them!!!!!! *singing* he is her daaaaaad, hes her dad! boogie boogie boogie! (ok no but like... their offscreen friendship is my favorite thing of season 5 ;_;)

Favorite headcanon

Sigh i dont know...i still think she's scared of spiders which make her current existence harder but thats a sadcanon :/ umm...... i love the idea of mikaele and her cooking together from time to time! Mikaele showing her some plates he used to eat as a kid as he talks stories about his life :) and she listens and sometimes tells a story of her own! its been so long since he had a quasy normal conversation! its weird yet nice!

#i say the same phrase many times but basically best parts of s4 are hands down peter. lonely!mart. peter and martin. melanie's arc. thats it #best parts of s5 are jon killing the not!them. annabelle. mikaele. annabelle & mikaele. annabelle and martin. thats it #dhfjfj sorry half of these are a bummer but you asked me... characters i have a complicated relationship with... i love the three of them s #statement ends #THANKS i love... talking

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bearsinpotatosacks · 3 years

Text

Why Lose Hope?- Chapter 2

Chapter 1 , Part 1 of the All the Little Things Seem so Insignificant Now Series

Jim ran from the transporter, his crew behind him as he raced to reach the bridge. The transporter itself being broken from the strain of trying to deliver seven people to another universe.

He slid in his chair and lent forwards as if it would bring him closer to Bones. They'd somehow managed to get an image on the two versions of him in that universe and had been watching them for the entire ten hours he'd been gone.

It was bittersweet watching him. Bones' smiles were sour and his movements freaked from the weight of the possibility he may never go home. Yet he carried on. He cared for Leonard, for the animals and crops all while telling tales of his universe, his ship all those miles away.

"Scotty, tell me you've got some good news,"

"Well, Captain, it's fixable but it'll take an hour minimum," The pain was obvious in his voice. "The most you could do is watch for the time being,"

"Thank you, Mr Scott,"

He knew what that meant for Bones, another year until he could see anyone he loved again. Although he had spent the entire time with the other Leonard McCoy, perhaps he loved him? Did it count as self love when it was an alternate version of himself?

It had only been a few seconds for them, but when he looked back at the screen,a week had already passed. Spock had done the calculations, a year for them is an hour on the ship, a month is five minutes and one and a quarter minutes was a week.

Leo, their Bones, was sitting on the porch covered in a blanket. He'd taken ill quickly, their hypotheses had been that a planet with worse technology than they had, even regressing back before the third world war, would be less equipped to handle severe illnesses.

Leonard was sitting on the other side of the table with half a scarf hanging off his knitting needles. He was talking about something to do with their farm when Leo broke the calm, coughing and spluttering.

"Here," He handed him a glass of water. "Take a nice long drink and you'll be fine,"

Leo did as he was told and lent back in his chair, face a little paler from the exertion of his remaining energy. The weather had changed rapidly in the time he'd been away, everywhere was blue skies and sunshine.

"How about I give you something to take your mind off things?" Leonard asked, only getting a grunt from Leo. "When did you meet your Jim?"

The crew all turned to face him. Uhura giving an amused glance, Spock something actually questioning and everyone else seemingly on the verge of rolling their eyes.

"When d'you meet yours?"

"It was 2255, I was working on a starbase somewhere, a medicine focused one, and I rush over to see a young man, six years younger than me, trying to escape with an IV line in, bandages on, nasal cannula and osteocalcium cream on his legs. He was also on the verge of passing out and was politely yelling at the guard to let him leave," He looked at Leo. "That was when I met James T. Kirk,"

"Sounds pretty on brand for him," Jim tried not to be hurt by that statement, even if he knew it was true.

"I saw him pretty much every day for about eight months, he was recovering from a serious injury involving radiation, an explosion and some angry octosquidarians. Became quite a good friend of mine even when he got transferred out of the ICU. He left, of course, everybody did on that starbase, yet we still managed to keep in touch and when he had his own ship and needed a CMO, well there was only one man for the job," He said and smiled to himself.

There was something about his age, his grey hair and wrinkles that made his smile more heartfelt. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he'd had more years with his Jim, more loving moments and annoying mishaps. He had nostalgia in his eyes as he sighed and turned to Leo.

"How'd'ya meet your Jim?"

"On a shuttle to Starfleet Academy, I was being forced out of my place in the bathroom-"

"Bathroom?"

"I have aviophobia," He nestled into the blankets further. "Jim's face was covered in blood, he'd been in a fight, and I was kind of drunk and spouted all the ways we could die on the thing and how my wife took everything. Then when we landed I found out he was in the same student apartment as me,"

"He was little shit most of the time, but he's also my best friend and the love of my life,"

He stopped and stared out for a moment. Jim was glad, he couldn't take it anymore. It had only been a few hours without him but he knew it had been so much longer for Bones.

Part of him wondered while they were waiting for the transporter modifications if he'd even love him anymore. Ten years could change a lot in a person, he would know. He went into town and could've easily fell in love with a local, but he didn't. He still loved him and he still loved Spock.

Speaking of which, the other Leonard asked their Bones another question, "When did you realise you loved your Spock?"

"You remember how I had to resurrect Jim?"

Leonard nodded.

"Well, with Spock being a scientist in multiple fields, he could help me in making the serum. He took my place when I was on the verge of collapse from fatigue or hunger or emotion, and I ain't told anyone this, but I meditated with him on the little time I had off and it actually helped,"

Jim smiled at Spock at the image of the two. Bones probably complained that it was useless for an overthinker like him or about the sitting positions being too convoluted for his old joints. Spock had suggested they all meditate together, one of the few couple activities Vulcans were known to do.

"And when Jim woke up and I couldn't handle the pressure of caring for him and the tabloids calling me Dr. Frankenstein and the looks from all the other doctors and pharmacists and every other medic in the hospital. So Spock listened as I ranted and cried and-" He stopped and took a few deep breaths. "And I realised, oh shit, I think I'm falling for him,"

"Well that's very romantic. When did you tell Jim?"

"There was a mission involving loss, they made us see supposed ghosts of people we lost and Spock was determined to say he wasn't affected. But Jim invited him over and after a few hours of awkward silences and denying the connection we were feeling, we admitted our feelings to each other,"

"How about you?" He said.

"Spock had a thing, a Vulcan thing that meant he had to go home-"

"Pon farr?"

Leonard nodded, "Things happened, to survive we had to fake Jim's death, Spock didn't know but when he realised he was alive they finally admitted their feelings for each other. Unfortunately for me I realised I loved the bastards," He carried on knitting with a little more ferocity. "It wasn't until we found a giant space amoeba and Spock won our 'Who's going to sacrifice themselves for the sake of science argument' that I realised I should've told him,"

He chuckled to himself, "Well, we managed to save him, of course, and I took that as a sign and told them they had my heart. And apart from a little bump after the five year mission, we ain't never looked back,"

Jim and Spock smiled at each other. They'd visited Ambassador Spock and willed him to tell them his stories like children on Pesach. About peaceful Sunday mornings when he'd meditate and they'd secretly watch their Leonard get ready for church. And about many trips to Vulcan where the Ambassador would show them off like trophy husbands.

They could tell he missed his Jim and Bones, a nostalgic look always distant in his eyes and his house filled with the various photos and videos he kept on his PADD when he went through the black hole.

At the time, they didn't understand what that felt like, to miss someone with every fibre of your soul. But after watching their Bones survive years and years alone without them, they realised how strangely comforting such an ache was.

The screen in front of them sped up as time drifted on. Relative as ever. Jim took a deep breath as Yeoman Rand handed everyone coffee and settled back in his chair for a long few hours.

I've managed to put a few headcanons of mine into this, like old married mcspirk's habit of Spock meditating, Bones getting ready for church and Jim smiling goofily as he watches his husband get dressed in his sunday best. Also I made up a few things for TOS Mckirk's meeting but the main idea I got from memory alpha is that Jim got hurt in his pre-captain days and met Bones. I would very much like to see this meeting somehow.

This fic will get weirder quite quickly and the schedule I think I might go with is one chapter in the farm universe, one in one of the crew's universe's, back to the farm universe and one in the other crew's universe.

And finally, I added Yeoman Rand! I'm very much in the camp of "I'll add all the recurring characters in tos into aos because someone (JJ Abrams) didn't" so I hope you enjoyed her cameo!

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pogaytosalad · 3 years

Text

Heres a wip of a sequel.

Dmviolence, by jade

Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.

I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.

I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.

Chapter 2

I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.

Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.

Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.

Chapter 3

Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.

I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.

The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.

Chapter 4

The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.

She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...

Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..

The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.

I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.

Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.

I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.

The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.

I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.

The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.

I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.

Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.

One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.

Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.

I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..

Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.

We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.

She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.

While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.

The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.

The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.

#writing #scifi #fantasy violence

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fireinmoonshot · 4 years

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REBEL | ARMITAGE HUX x READER | PART SEVEN

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE RISE OF SKYWALKER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX Summary: Armitage Hux finds himself strangely fascinated by you, a Resistance fighter and pilot, even though he knows he shouldn’t. You know that there’s much more to him than you see on the surface. Pairing: female!Reader x Armitage Hux Fandom: Star Wars Word Count: 4560 Warnings: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER SPOILERS, death mentions. A/N: First of all, thank you for being so patient in waiting for this one! I’ve had the absolute busiest couple of days after Christmas, especially with work and going to see TROS again on Saturday. I’m a bit uncertain about this chapter simply because I’m terrible at writing Star Wars battle scenes... but I tried my best and did a few drafts of this and now I’m just putting it up so I can move on to writing Part Eight. Anyway, thank you for all the love so far. I hope you enjoy this part – the longest so far! Read it on Ao3 here.

Armitage Hux has never particularly been a fan of hot weather.

In the hours he’s spent on Ajan Kloss, hidden away in the caves of the Klosslands and moving back and forth between your quarters and the Tantive IV – what used to be General Leia Organa’s command ship – he’s witnessed two spontaneous downfalls of rain followed by an unfair amount of sun, and the warmth that came with it was the worst of all. He really wasn’t used to it – on the Steadfast for the past few months, he’s been surrounded by a constant generated cool air. Here, there’s no such thing.

He shrugs off his coat when he sits down in your quarters, even though it’s the lightest one you could find him. He doesn’t mean to make himself too comfortable, though, so it remains on his lap. This is, after all, your place, and not his. He can’t assume. But the thinner shirt is much more comfortable in the afternoon heat of Ajan Kloss, and you don’t seem to mind as much about the formalities of uniform here, not like the First Order. He’s noticed that half of the Resistance don’t even wear their rank on their sleeves.

It’s refreshing.

–

With him here, now, you feel as though you’ve discovered an entirely different man. Armitage, a Resistance fighter has an entirely different manner to General Hux of the First Order. You’ve taken the time to study the differences in the silence of the afternoon while you wait for any kind of good news, though you fear it may never come.

He sits on a chair across the room from you and stares out the open curtain at the bustling Resistance base outside. The quarters that you live in are nothing special and were assembled quickly, which explains why you can hear the buzz of everyone still talking and working outside. It’s something you’ve grown to find quite reassuring, though you’re unsure what Armitage has come to think of it.

It must be a large change for him.

He still holds himself as tall and proud as he did when you saw him on the Steadfast for the first time, a member of the First Order through and through. He still has trouble allowing his emotions to pass over his face without hiding them immediately, which is something you assume he was taught. Yet sometimes you spot a vague smile on his lips or the beginning of a small twitch of laughter. Every time you notice something like that, you’re even happier that you made the choice to offer him your hand and that he made the choice to take it.

Perfectly timed, and just as you open your mouth to break the silence, a frantic knock sounds on your door. Armitage looks away from the outside, at the door and then at you.

“It’s open.”

The door clicks open and Rose stands on the other side. “Artoo, he’s found something. You need to come and see this.” Her eyes flick between you and Armitage. You notice how her eyebrows furrow briefly. And then she surprises you. “Both of you.”

–

Poe is standing alongside Finn, Rose, Chewie, Beaumont and Larma when you both arrive. He’s staring down at something on the screen in front of him, a small moving dot, with a grin on his face. It’s the happiest you’ve seen him look in a while. Finn wears an equally large smile on his own face as he sees you.

You lean down and look at the dot yourself. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Red Five – the infamous X-wing of Luke Skywalker.”

“Oh, it’s Rey,” you breathe, and then you laugh to yourself.

She’s transmitting the location of Exegol to you. She’s leading you right to it, and right now you’re more proud to be her friend than you ever have been.

There’s a smile on your face when you turn and look up at Armitage, and he almost wants to smile at you in return – if only because you seem so infectiously overjoyed. “This is your moment. Is there anything we should know before we follow her?”

Armitage stares at you for a moment, shock filling his system. You’re turning to him for information. You’re counting on him for the help you need. The others around you all follow your lead and direct their attention to him, and he can’t help but perk up a little at the attention. It’s been a while since he’s felt useful.

He doesn’t know just how much information he can give you. But he scours his brain for anything anyway because the feeling of being included is one he finds unfamiliar in a good way. Actually being needed fills him with hope, because after so many months of being pushed back by Allegiant General Pryde, he’d started to feel as though he wasn’t that necessary after all.

–

There’s a buzz in the air as the Resistance runs. Pilots sprint past you to change into their suits, fighters run to the weaponry to stock up on blasters. You notice people hugging, making their goodbyes, and you can’t quite believe that this is it. That after years of fighting, this is the moment it’s all come down to.

Poe gives you a look as he runs off to change, and just as you’re about to make your move to run back to your own quarters and change too, Armitage holds out a hand to stop you.

“Where do you need me?”

“Where do you want to be?”

He pauses. He’s never been in the center of the action. He’s never been a fighter – he’s always been the one to oversee the fighting. To watch on, to tell them what to do and where to hit the hardest. But he knows that he can’t just sit and watch on this one, no matter how dangerous. He can’t sit back, let you and the rest of the Resistance fight your own way out of this and wait for the outcome, whether good or bad.

He has to fight.

“I can’t fly, but I’m not bad with a blaster.”

It’s half a lie. He’s not very good with a blaster in combat.

You don’t see through it, though. You’re impressed, only you hadn’t expected him to offer to fight alongside you. “You heard Finn talking about the ground team he’s leading to take out the nav system? What do you say to joining that team and helping to take it down?”

“I say that sounds entirely acceptable.”

Rose runs past you, and you hold out an arm and stop her. “Hey, you going to the armoury?” She nods. “Can you take Armitage? He needs a blaster. He’s gonna join you on the ground team. Get him kitted up, I need to go change.”

“Yeah, but we need to go now.” Rose beckons him.

There’s no time to waste.

“I’ll find you before we leave!” You point at him, and then you run.

–

Armitage stands and waits by your X-wing – a T-70 X-wing starfighter, black in colour with flares of bright green on the nose. Rose had pointed it out to him when they’d left the armoury and he’d told her he wanted to wait for you. He’s glad he’ll hopefully be able to pick it out among the other X-wings on Exegol.

And you, you keep your word.

You’re dressed in the orange suit of the X-wing pilots when he spots you, much like the suit he’d seen Poe wearing when he’d walked past him to his own X-wing only moments earlier. It’s a different look on you compared to the muted browns and greens of your Resistance uniform, but it suits you – the look of oncoming battle. You look strong, fierce, ready for whatever awaits you on Exegol. He’s a little uneasy at the thought, but he puts his best front on for your sake.

He’s really never fought like this before.

“I got you a little something on my way here,” you say, and he notices you’re a little out of breath, likely from the chaos of getting everything in order before the attack. You hold it out towards him. “Since your First Order buddies took my last one on Pasaana, I figured we should start over, find a way to still keep in contact. And this is the only way we’re gonna be able to stay in touch when we reach Exegol.”

In your hand is a small comlink device.

He takes it out of your hand and then attaches it to his ear.

“Are you positive about flying? You are still injured.” He tries, once.

You fix him with a look. “I’ve done this before, remember? I’m fine. You are the one you need to worry about. You’ve never seen combat like this before, have you?”

And just like that, you catch him.

He clears his throat. “No, not necessarily.”

“Just… follow Finn and Rose’s lead. They’ve got your back. I know it. We all do. As long as you don’t have a momentary lapse and can’t blast the Stormtroopers… you should be fine.”

“There won’t be any problems there. I have blasted some before, you remember.”

You smile. He’d done it before, he could do it again.

Armitage stands tall, glances at your X-wing and then back at you. “You stay safe. I’ve heard and seen that it’s a dangerous business, flying a starfighter in an air fight.”

“You’ve heard right.” You pause, and then look down at the ground for a second, unsure if you should say what you’re thinking. But then you decide to bite the bullet and do it – because you know you’ll regret it if you don’t. “Listen, if I don’t come back from this– if things go wrong and I don’t make it out alive, which is a very real possibility, just stick with Poe or Finn and–“

He snaps. “Don’t say that!”

It’s the first moment in a long while where he’s truly reminded you of the General Hux you’d heard the stories of. The famed General Hux of the First Order, destroyer of planets, killer of civilisations. His eyes get darker, and even though he looks like a Resistance fighter with his brown cotton shirt and slightly messy red hair, you can still sense his upbringing behind the uniform, the remains of a lifetime on the dark side.

And all at the suggestion of your death.

Armitage realises his mistake too late. He swears under his breath and drops his eyes to the ground. He hadn’t meant to say it like that– he’d just wanted to stop you. “Forgive me.”

He peeks up at you through his eyelashes with slightly red tinted cheeks.

His eyes are no longer dark. His expression has changed from the harsh one to a softer one and you see the Armitage you know coming back. You nod slowly at him. “Forgiven.”

And then you surprise both him and yourself by throwing your arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

It’s a little lopsided. He’s taller than you. But you both make it work.

It takes a moment for Armitage to hug you back. It takes him off guard. He’s never… has he ever been hugged before? He can’t recall. But his father was never one for those sort of pleasantries, and he can’t remember a moment in his past at all where he remembers the sensation of a hug. But then he allows his arms to wrap around you and hold you back.

His first hug, and it’s you.

“I meant what I said. You be safe on that ship, Armitage. You come back.”

You pull away, but you keep him at arms length.

“I meant it too.”

Your astromech – R6-LE5 – beeps impatiently from behind you where she waits at the foot of your X-wing. Everyone else around you is getting into their fighters and getting ready for departure, and she’s urging you on. Time is running out, and goodbyes should be brief.

“I’m coming, Leefive. I’m coming.” You turn back to Armitage. “I’ll see you back in this very spot when we win.”

And with that, he watches as you climb up the ladder to your X-wing and slide inside. As you close the roof of the cockpit over your head and secure your helmet. As your droid slots herself into place behind you.

You wave at him as you start the engine.

This time, he waves back.

–

Your first sight of Exegol is enough to inspire nightmares.

The fleet is bigger than you ever expected it to be, and your first sight is soon enough marred by the starfighter beside you being blown to pieces. You swerve to the left, avoiding the debris as much as possible, and wince. You’d never thought this was going to be easy, but you’d had better hopes than this.

Below you, the fleet have begun to fire their cannons at you, and you fall back into the habit of flying your X-wing easily. After months of switching between it and Armitage’s TIE fighter, it feels good to be flying something that’s entirely yours again. It’s dangerous, but you’re filled with adrenaline as you dodge the blaster beams and fire back.

It’s not long after that your excitement is squandered.

“The navigation tower has been de-activated!”

“What?” Finn sounds panicked.

“The ships need that signal. It’s gotta be coming from somewhere.”

“They figured out what we’re doing. Call off the ground invasion!” Poe calls in, and you can’t help but agree with him – how can they take down the navigation tower when the First Order has done it themselves?

But Finn has other plans. The channel goes silent for a moment, and then he speaks, more confidently than ever. “Wait… the nav signal’s coming from that command ship. That’s our drop zone.”

“You wanna launch a ground invasion on a Star Destroyer?” Lieutenant Tyce says everything that you’re thinking.

“Finn, you can’t be serious!” It’s your turn to object. “You can’t do that! It’s too dangerous! We have to find another way!” You’re worried about his safety – and Rose and Armitage’s safety too. Allowing him to set foot on the destroyer that you’d helped Armitage escape from hours earlier was too risky… what if you lost and they took him back?

“I have no choice! I don’t want to, but I have no choice,” Finn yells in reply. “We can’t take out that ship’s nav system from the air. Give us cover. We gotta keep that fleet there till help arrives… we hope.”

You dodge out of the way of an oncoming blaster charge and your X-wing spins, but through the chaos you manage to hear two more words – not spoken by Finn or Poe or Rose, or even Tyce, but the voice is still familiar. It’s Armitage, and it gives you the boost you need.

“Trust him” is all he says.

Finn looks at him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and something passes between the two of them. It’s not admiration, not love, not friendship, but some kind of respect – they’re words Finn never thought he’d hear Armitage say. But Armitage nods at him once, and Finn nods back, and they know they’re both on the same page. This is the time to be brave.

–

When the landers set down on the Steadfast and the Resistance begin their invasion, blasters raised among those fighting and firing towards the Stormtroopers that have covered the top of the destroyer in an act of defiance, you try and look for Armitage among them, but it’s a failed attempt.

You’d thought he would be easy to spot, but there are too many people, too many blaster shots and you can’t get a clear look at anything on the ground, let-alone in the sky around you. Smoke and debris floats around you and dodging it as well as the attacks from the cannons is hard enough.

And you’re too pre-occupied with not being blown up yourself.

Below, on the Steadfast, Armitage fights against those he once trusted. He has to admit, it is rather thrilling to fire blaster shots at Sith Troopers and have them fall at his hands. From when he first did it hours ago with the Stormtroopers to now, he feels like he’s getting the hang of it – and he’s not sure whether to like that or not. He’s doing his part, though, and that has to be worth something.

He’s not very good with his blaster in combat, and he dodges a few blaster shots from the First Order several times. The near misses, he decides not to tell you about. He thinks he will tell you about blasting the Sith Trooper that got a little too close to comfort by Rose.

And you, flying up high in the sky above you. He thought he’d have a chance to at least pause and try and find you, to make sure you were still flying and not destroyed by the First Order, but it’s so fast paced and frantic on the ship that he barely has a chance to breathe.

His attention is forced away from worry as an explosion up above knocks the nav tower offline, and he stumbles backwards from the force of it alongside several other Resistance fighters beside him. One of them turns to him, grins and then whoops rather loudly, and he has to smile back.

They’ve done it.

Armitage holds up a hand to the comlink at his ear. “Did you see that?”

You can hear the excitement in his voice, and you wish you could see it on his face. “I saw that!”

“Nice one, Finn!” Nav signal’s down, but not for long!” Poe yells over the comms.

And then the people around Armitage are turning the other way and running back towards the landers. It’s time to leave now that they’ve done what they came for. In the distance, his eyes fall on Finn and Jannah – they’re stopping, looking at something, and then he watches as they run in the opposite direction.

Something deep within him itches to follow them. To do more than necessary. To help them in whatever they’re running away to do. But he can’t bring himself to follow the feeling. He’s a runner, not a fighter. He’d be more of a hindrance than a help. And he hopes you and the rest of the Resistance can forgive him as he turns and begins the run back to the landers, choosing safety over glory.

Any part of him that truly remained General Hux of the First Order, he leaves behind on the Steadfast as soon as his feet hit the ground of the Resistance lander.

–

It’s exhausting. The constant jump back and forth between feeling like you’re winning and feeling like you’re losing. And just when you think you think everything is going well, when the nav tower is knocked offline, when you start to gain the upper hand, things start to crack and crumble again.

The fighter beside you goes up in flames.

Poe warns Snap about the TIE fighters on his tail. He says he sees them. And then you watch him go down, hurtling to the surface of a destroyer… you’re yelling and you don’t even realise it – another member of the remnants of Black Squadron gone, a friend gone…

You start to wonder if you can even win this at all.

Another fighter close to you is blown up, and you swerve away from it, missing a blaster shot from an oncoming TIE fighter by inches as you do. Your comms are filled with the voices of the other pilots – they’re asking Poe what to do, and you see several other members of your team go down in flames as you hear them.

But what can you add? What can you add to make them feel better?

Nothing.

You’re floating in midair trying to catch your breath when Poe finally tries to find the words. They’re not the ones you wanted to hear. They’re not the ones you need to hear. But he says them anyway. “My friends… I’m sorry… I thought we had a shot… but there’s just too many of them.”

And then… another voice.

“But there are more of us, Poe. There are more of us.”

It’s instinct, how you spin your X-wing around and fly a little higher. You feel like the air is swept entirely from your lungs as you see hundreds of thousands of ships. They came – this time, they came for you.

The exhaust you felt from being whipped back and forward by the winning and the losing is gone entirely at the sight of the ships. Because you know you have this now. Your fleet is bigger, it’s better… and it’s filled with thousands of people from all over the universe who want to see nothing else but Palpatine and the first order taken down.

Poe is clearly invigorated by the realisation “Hit those underbelly canons, every one we knock out is a world saved!”

And you do it. You turn back and hurtle towards the closest ship, your blasters firing at the canons underneath until finally, they explode into a fiery orange burst of hope. You’re laughing as you dodge it and move onto the next one.

You’ve got this.

–

His lander is yet to move from the surface of the Steadfast when everything starts to fall around him, quite literally. His heart is beating fast from the adrenaline and he’s collapsed onto a crate in the corner of the ship in an attempt to catch his breath when he sees something out of the small window on the opposite side.

An A-wing, falling – free falling through the air, but it looks perfectly normal. It’s not on fire, from what he can see, it hasn’t been hit and– then there’s a flicker of something.

Armitage is on his feet in seconds, standing by the window along with several other Resistance fighters who have noticed something is wrong. It looks like… lightning. He’s never seen anything like it before.

He feels like his heart stops as he sees the familiar black and green of your X-wing following the A-wing rather rapidly towards the ground. He steps back, allows the others to crowd around the window, and tries to reach you.

“Do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? What’s going on? Are you all right?”

Armitage glances back at the window, but he can’t see your X-wing anymore. He falls back on the crate, heart racing just as fast as it was before, perhaps even faster, and holds his breath.

He’d thought things were going well.

He should have known better than to assume something good.

–

You definitely do not have this.

The screen of your X-wing starts to flicker. Your controls – you don’t have control anymore. You try and move your X-wing, but nothing is happening.

“Leefive, what’s happening? My systems are failing! I don’t have control!”

She beeps, but you can’t make out what she says. And nothing happens. She doesn’t reboot the systems of fix anything, and you fiddle with the controls inside your X-wing but nothing is working. Your stomach drops as your X-wing falls.

You try again. You’re falling – you’re falling and you have no control.

“Does anyone copy?” You call through the comms. “Armitage, do you copy? I’ve lost control, my systems are failing. I’m going down, I repeat, I am going down! Poe, Finn– Armitage, does anybody copy?”

The screen flickers again, and you suddenly stop falling.

Poe’s voice is in your ear like he never left it.

“This is our last chance, we’ve gotta hit those cannons now!”

You’re confused. You’re more confused than you think you ever have been in your entire life. You feel sick to your stomach from the drop, but your systems are back online as if they were never offline in the first place, and behind you, Leefive is whirring and beeping happily. You take a second to breathe deeply before you launch your final assault.

“Armitage, do you copy?” You’re saying the words before you even really meant to.

It’s instinct.

His reply comes moments later, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice.

“Are you all right? Are your systems working?”

“I’m okay– they’re back now. What about you and the others?”

Armitage looks around the lander. “We hadn’t left the Steadfast when whatever that was happened. It didn’t seem to affect our ship. It just affected you.” He looks out the window again, just in time to see you whizzing past towards the ship. They’ve taken off now, left the Steadfast, and he’s airborne again. “I saw you falling.”

“I know. I know. But I’m good.”

If he says anything in return, you don’t hear it. You’re firing on the cannons, and then– the command ship, the Steadfast, the place you’d been on hours earlier and the place Armitage no longer called his home, starts to fall.

–

Rey joins you in Luke’s old X-wing as you leave Exegol.

You can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face as you pull your helmet from your head, giving yourself some much needed air. It’s warm in your fighter, and you wipe the sweat from your brow. You hope you never have to see Exegol again.

“We did it,” you breathe. “Leefive, we did it!”

She beeps excitedly behind you, and you grin.

“Hey Finn, Poe– congratulations, Generals.” You follow the Falcon as it speeds off ahead of you and back towards Ajan Kloss. Poe had told you briefly before you left that he’d made the decision to bring Finn on as a co-general. And now, you were certain he’d made the right decision.

Without Finn, who knows what could have happened?

You hear Poe’s laughter as his only reply.

–

Down on the lander, flying beneath you all, Armitage listens in with a small smile on his face. You’d won. The Resistance had won, and he was on the winning side. Long gone were the days where he wished for Kylo’s loss and nobody’s win.

The comlink in his ear fizzes.

“Hey, Armitage. You hearing this?”

“I am very much hearing this.”

“I’ll see you back on Ajan Kloss, right? The same place as before?”

Armitage nods, and then realises you can’t see him. “I’ll be waiting.”

Your face breaks out into a grin. “Not if I get there first.”

He has no chance.

The comms go out again, and he allows himself a moment to think about how it feels to hear your voice again – this time not frantic or rushed from the chaos of the fight. But just calm, relieved. There’s an edge of excitement in your voice and Armitage likes hearing it.

He had his doubts about the Resistance’s win. When you’d said you’d see him back on Ajan Kloss when they won, he’d walked away unsure if he would see you or Ajan Kloss again. But now, as the lander picks up speed and begins the journey back, he knows he will. He knows that Allegiant General Pryde is dead. He knows that the First Order is as good as. He is all that remains. And he is better than what they became.

–

TAG LIST: @agirlinherhead, @songforhema, @sleep-paralysis-demon @midgardian-witch @capcrayon @redsacrament @wlucyw @the-dream-catch3r @petalduck @hopesxxhigh @treblebeth @burritonee @acaprioglino @rebelspykim @iwritefanficnotprophecies @ahsfan23 @erys-targaryen @tazzclegane @ibikus @seafrost-fangirl @percivalgravs @chewle @j1224 @livy1391 @drowsebaby @lafy-taffy

(To be tagged, just send me a message or drop a reply. I’ll do my best to check the replies on posts so I don’t miss anyone wanting to be tagged! If you’re bolded, it won’t let me tag you!)

#rebel #star wars #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #star wars x reader #general hux x you #general hux x reader #armitage hux x you #hux #tros #the rise of skywalker #i'm running out of gifs

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cupidssrosses · 4 years

Text

i. love. ship. playlists.

so, i know for a FACT that im not the only one that uses songs to picture scenarios with a pairing i really love. like, sometimes im so set on the idea of a ship that i have to rewrite the entire show in my brain, rework it so that they end up together logically. songs are always so good to visualise too. harringrove is the BEST for this, because the show itself uses scenes set to 80s music all the time.

anywho, this is a really longwided way of saying hey heres my harringrove playlist enjoy :)

this song has always been made for a scene where tension has to slowly build.

so, instead of the scene with billy and neil happening at the end of the season when theres much more world-end-y things to deal with, it happens earlier.

the scene happens, billy goes to find max and ends up finding steve and the kids in that junkyard.

“am i dreaming or is that you harrington”

(really rushed) “yeah its me dont cream your pants what the FUCK are you doing here hargrove you have to leave right now”

billy won’t shut the fuck up so steve has to cover his mouth and try to push him into the bus. then we hear a demidog, steve gives up on billy and gets ready to fight, quietly hands billy a broken pole or something just in case.

the song starts from 0:00 right when billy sees the demidog, the camera pans in on his face, just so confused and scared, processing what hes seeing. then he joins the fight, he and steve back to back protecting the kids. this leads to billy being part of the gang, at least in some respects. hes strong as fuck and now they have to fill him in on the circumstances now so hes around more often to help. he wants to protect max, but also be near/protect steve.

so ! during subsequent fights/situations, billy and steve get a little closer, damn they’re not in love but hey they’re getting more comfortable and theres deeeefinitely some mutal attraction, the energy from those shower and basketball scenes hasn’t gone away. if steves the mother figure billys the dad.

on the “i need a hero” (BAM) part that leads into the chorus, billy saves steve with some kind of big action you know? RIGHT on the beat i swear i get chills every time i picture it to this song. like he pushes something off of him or pull him out of the way really suddenly after running reaaaallly fast to get to him. right after it cuts to steve looking all suprised and impressed while billy keeps fighting.

same applies to the part that goes “watched out here i COME” in the second song, except its steve saving billy.

since two thousand and fucking 17 ive seen this song as billys image of steve. it always sounded like his thoughts about him.

this is one of the first moments billy realises he might really REALLY like steve. hes not just horny he might actually love this moron. at around 2:07 when all the instrumental goes away and its mainly the drums, thats when it happens.

hes picking steve up from somewhere. theyve been spending more time together as buddies. he apologised for being a dick, theyve had some more serious conversations. hes taking him to hang out with the kids, maybe he just needed a ride home from school or work. anyway, its golden hour. hes waiting to see him and hes weirdly nervous, more than he ever was waiting to pick up a date with one of the hawkins girls.

and then he sees steve walk out onto the street, or come around the corner.

his heart STOPS. steve just looks so beautiful. the light hitting his hair. he smiles at someone he knows as the walk by. billys just HIT with hoe much he loves this stupid moron and his stupid fucking smile.

steves looking around for the car and looks so. happy. when he sees billy, billy smiles back. its been a while since hes smiled that genuinely.

billy really really part of gang now. this might be sometime after the final events of season 2 i think?? billys saved them all, had a lot of experiences, hes built up some trust with the group and it feels normal that hes there. hes part of the family, and thats what this songs about.

it night time, theyre at steves house, all the kids, nancy, jonathen, etc. some are swimming, everyones dancing, things feel a little more okay.

at around 1:54, (again im a sucker for stripping away most of the instrumental and relying on a few key sounds, including loud drums) billy looks around. he has for one of the first times in a while this sense of FAMILY and ACCEPTANCE and SAFETY.

theres all these shots of everyone having fun, like 2 or 3 cuts, then to steve. just standing there laughing, hairs all wet from the pool, towel around his shoulders. he looks over, catches billys eye, gives him a smile, it feels like he knows what hes thinking, and he feels the same way.

same night, during the part build up that starts at around 2:53, everyones trying to get billy to dance, hes been smoking on one of the pool chairs, not antisocial just not dancing. not his thing. plus he doesnt want to look like an idiot infront of steve. anyway.

one of the kids starts it, starts gesturing for him to get up, pointedly singing the lyrics, the rest join in unti theyre all singing and chanting for him to join, all while the song builds and builds. finally steve joins in. maintains eye contact. thats enough for billy. he just keeps his eyes on steve as he stands up. its more like theyre dancing together, less like the kids are there. right at the end of that bridge he just lets go. takes of his jacket and dances around with everyone. he doesnt look stupid either. he looks good. and steve notices

this is a small one, i dont even have a story to it. all i know is that comparisons between the scene that accompanies this song in top gun and the basket ball scene in st2 have been made, and itd be a super fun, corny scene :)

starts at the very begining. this song has ALWAYS felt so magical and me. i get chills every god damn time i hear the intro. i want their first kiss to be to the intro.

its after the last fight of season three. someone else was flayed, someone we dont love. obviously billy survives. in FACT, he was along for the ride with robin and steve, all the shenanigens with the russians, billy was tied up and drugged too. BOTH he and robin admit their sexualities.

billy still sacrafices himself to save the kids from the monster, he says something cute like “see ya round pretty boy” or some corny shit like that before he goes to run and save el, theres a moment when steve knows what hes about to do, theyre staring at eachother and theeeerse the electricity steve knows so much about. theyre really about to kiss, staring at eachothers mouths, but the monster makes a noise and billy knows its now or never, so he runs off.

steve tries to save him but gets nocked out. he goes unconcious thinking billys going to or is already dead.

it cuts to the end scene when theyre all in the car park. steves got an icepack to his face, hes obviously been sobbing.

but he heres a voice.

(clearly overjoyed and kind of smug) “am i dreaming or is that you harrington”

he looks up. its billy. we get a nice long run-jump-hug. steves in billys arms before he can even finish his sentence:

(nearly crying but SO excited) “yeah its me dont cream your pa-”

NOW. OKAY SO. i love love love they idea of billy steve and robin going home with murray, or at least showing up at his place. maybe billy cant stand the thought of going home, hell maybe neil was the one that got flayed and died idk. anyway.

nancy and jonathen are like, we know a place if people dont want to go home, and they go murrays place. when they show up at the door murray KNOWS. hes like “ffs two more people who have repressed feelings for eachother what am i a therapist. but he lets them in and they have a similar conversation that murray had with nancy and jonathen/joyce and hopper. poking fun at how much they like eachother etc.

billy and steve have a really intimate talk. not sexaul intimate, just really open. theyre both so tiered, steve thought billy was dead, billy had to say goodbye to steve, who he KNOWS hes in love with by now, thinking he was about to die. they both KNOW how the feel about eachother now, but they havent said it explicitly. just lots of “i really thought id lost you”, “your my best friend”, “i cant believe youd do that for me” etc etc.

they decide to go to bed, billy walks steve to his room, the one nancy stayed in when she and jonathen got together, theyre standing at the door. just staring at eachother like they were during that fight sequence. the energies back. billy really thinks he might go for it, but decides he doesnt want to ruin things if steve doesnt really feel the same way. he doesnt even know if he likes guys yet. so he just says “night steve” (steve, get it, not harrington, cause theyre close now and he loves him and those defensive barriers are down ahhhh).

just as he turns to leave, steve does this:

this exact thing. he grabs billys arm, leans down and kisses him. he thought he lost his chance once, he nearly died like a million times in the past 48 hours. he cant stop himself.

RIGHT HERE is when the intro to jump kicks in. FUck that synth, the rumbling note that runs through the whole thing. time. stops. its perfect. billys wanted this for so long, so has steve but in the grand tradition of fanfiction he didnt know it until he nearly lost billy for good.

their arms are all over eachother, just as the rest of the instruments come in, at like 0:15, they both smile into the kiss and shut the door behind them, and it cuts away :).

theyre finally together!!! theyre in the happy, honeymoon stage of realtionship. god theyre just fucking every. chance. they. get. i think this is a new season. it’s a montage of them hooking up all over hawkins.

in the back of the video store, robin covering for them. in the car, outside school, steves house. someone walks in and billy has to hang out of the window. he makes a noise and steves like “thats probably just a bird or something” and billy MAKES A BIRD NOISE TO THE BEST OF HIS ABILITY.

when steve helps him back inside he just stares a him with that “youre a moron but your my moron now” face. “~mimics the sound billy made~ really?” and then billy just laughs and goes back to hooking up with him.

theyre just HAPPY. theyre comfortble, theyre stupid idiots whod die for eachother and horny as fuck allllll the time, like young guys are. i just want a really lighthearted, NOT INNOCENT, but lighthearted tone to a whole montage of them just being happy and stupid together.

aaaaand we’re bassically at the end of the storyline i have for them based on music. these three i just like the thought of. i want steve do dance super shamelessly in his bedroom in a towel, not in a sexy way dont get me wrong he looks DUmb, and billys at his door window just admiring this stupid idiot dancing around. i cant believe im in love with this man this graceless lanky man i had to choose this one. but ill be damned if i wouldnt give my fucken life for him

and finally trust me go listen to any scorpions song its bassicaly a harrington anthem. it all started with rock you like a hurricain for me, i saw steve look at him, i saw billy and listened to the lyrics and just thought theres no god damned way this man is straight whats the bet hes into steve and then BAM same season hes just so obviously flirting with him constantly i-

anyway okay so

this song, like many other scorpion songs is allll about billy and steve in my opion. go have fun.

PlayerEntity made this gif not me all credit to them i just wanted to include it cause its my favorite edit of them ever.

and thats all!!! if youre seeing this and you thought it was cool thanks i had fun. i really just wanted to get this shit out of my brain its been up there since i was a fuckn 14 year old, now im 18 lol.

i love these men more than myself and sometimes i forget that theyre not acutally together in show cause i live so completely through fanfiction and the sequence of events you just read.

fuck why am i signing out like you just watched a youtube video or something i should just post this okay by now xxxxx

#harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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phobiadeficient · 4 years

Note

Your work is just stunning I can’t even! I know it’s not a pairing you’ve done before, at least that IVe seen, but would you consider doing something with demo and spy? Maybe something with a focus on bottom spy?

this is another one of those ships i dont know the clever ship name for but on god the more i think about it the better it is as a concept. mr “had-to-disguise-as-tom-jones-just-to-tell-his-son-he-loves-him” bad at emotional honesty and mr “cried-on-camera-genuinely-nice-dude” emotional and honest, like dude. dude

(warnings for discussion of past manipulation)

The one thing about Demo that Spy was both most drawn to and most uncomfortable with was his unwavering honesty.

About his emotions, about his past, about his likes and dislikes, about his insecurities and weaknesses—he couldn’t imagine someone more effectively teeing themselves up to be manipulated by someone like him. If he was hired to get information or money or blackmail or anything at all out of Demo, he would consider it the easiest job he’d ever done.

But... some part of him, for the first time in years, felt wrong about that. About even simple manipulations, like being dramatic and acting more offended than he really was to get Demo to drop uncomfortable questions, like redirecting his attention whenever he seemed to be nosing too far into what Spy considered to be his own business and nobody else’s. It felt wrong. And instead, when in an idle chat about their immigration to America, when Demo asked whether he’d managed to get a permanent stay visa and whether his real name was even on it, he outright said that he wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about the process he’d taken to first live in the United States.

And Demo had shrugged and said that was fair and had smoothly changed topics, and that was that. He didn’t ask again.

Infuriating, was the word. It was infuriating how honest he was. It was infuriating how much Spy wanted to return that honesty.

And usually when people opened up to him and he started to feel like he was being impolite for not sharing in return, he would tell them lies, one of three well-crafted well-rehearsed stories he had for his own past that would make the other person feel sufficiently trusted and valued, sometimes since Spy knew he might never feel entirely right sharing details like that and he did want the illusion of connection. But even something as small as that felt wrong. And he huffed about it, told Demo after a story one day that he felt bad for not talking more about himself, and Demo had laughed, had shrugged it off so very easily, said he didn’t tell Spy things as a transaction, he told Spy things because he thought Spy might like knowing those things. Said he would be okay if Spy never told him anything, as long as he knew he was allowed to talk or stay silent at his own discretion, and that Demo wouldn’t judge him.

So completely infuriating.

And the progression from friendly co-workers to friends to good friends to a different sort of friends had brought up a series of similarly infuriating discussions. Mostly Demo trying to get various assurances that Spy didn’t feel at all rushed into anything, that really it was alright if he wasn’t comfortable with pushing forward. And he asked two and three and four times, starting all the way down at holding hands and chaste little kisses, and admitted that mostly he was worried because he couldn’t be entirely certain when Spy was being truthful with him and when he was just gritting his teeth.

Demo admitted, in one of those earlier discussions, that he felt he couldn’t tell when Spy was irritated with him at all. Because he rambled on at Spy so often, and still hadn’t figured out how to tell when Spy got bored of him.

And Spy wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard and shout that he was never bored of Demo, that Demo was a bottomless well of stories and ideas and culture and opinions and questions that he knew he couldn’t get through if he spent the next hundred years with him but he would enjoy every last moment of trying, even the parts that Demo considered to be so ugly and unlovable, and even more the few glimmering parts that he could dig out and reflect back at Demo to show him that he did have things about himself that he should be proud of.

But the words locked in his throat alongside just about every other word he ever wanted to say to him and instead he’d just smiled and promised to be better at telling Demo if he ever did anything wrong, and assured him that the vast majority of the time his grand theatrical bouts of complaining weren’t legitimate annoyance, he just enjoyed being dramatic from time to time. And all those other words stayed locked in his throat, even as Demo laughed and kissed him heartily on the cheek. And he was so angry with himself, because he didn’t know when he’d started locking those sorts of words away in the very first place, and furthermore he didn’t know how to find the key.

Demo found it for him. Of course he did. How could he not? He’d unlocked all sorts of other things Spy thought he’d never manage again.

And he gave Spy thousands of chances to back out, and another hundred every time they reached those quiet, gentle moments, limbs tangling together against Spy’s satin bedsheets. And despite all of Demo’s fretting, Spy never once felt threatened by the muscle that boxed him in on at least two sides, feeling more safe than anything else.

And Demo was sweet enough to ask every time whether Spy wanted to top, even though the answer was always a pretty confident no. And he was always almost too careful with prep, using it as part of the foreplay as much as anything else, and that was beyond lovely. And he liked to face Spy, liked to kiss and nip just below his jaw, liked to capture his lips for idle moments, taking his time in a way that made Spy fall apart entirely.

And that was the only time he’d found that he could manage honesty, whispered between them every time their lips parted to get air back. He found it there and clung to it, clung to the meager courage he discovered under the weight of pleasure, found himself saying all sorts of things he could never bear when clothed (literally in fabric and metaphorically in the carefully-crafted persona that he couldn’t seem to shed until the moment of raw vulnerability that Demo could bring him to, making love in near-darkness).

That was when he could whisper to Demo how much he loved him. How good Demo made him feel. How happy he was. How perfect everything felt, there, together alone, close. To never stop, to never go.

And he didn’t know how to tell him that he meant it, outside of their bedroom, outside of the moment. Because as soon as the moment was over and the afterglow was fading (always far too fast for his liking), the words were locked away again behind his cyanide teeth and silver tongue. And he knew Demo’s insecurities would feed off of that, would try and convince him that Spy was just running his mouth in the heat of the moment, and he hated that he couldn’t reassure him by continuing to say those things. To say he loved him. To ask Demo to never go.

He instead tried to find that moment sooner, when Demo was peeling his layers away and laving yet another mark against his collarbone where nobody else would see it. He tried to murmur affirmations then, choked on compliments following bearded kisses to the cheek or temple, found himself hesitating between acts of affection.

And one day he did break. Did find himself borderline sobbing, all at once, body wracked with tremors. And in an instant Demo pulled out and away, set to comforting him, trying to soothe him, trying to make right whatever was wrong, and that was when Spy managed it. Managed to spill all that he wanted to say. That this act of vulnerability had never felt vulnerable before, that this show of trust had only ever been for show with practically everyone else he’d ever slept with, that for his entire life he’d been making love to people and now finally he found someone he loved, that Demo was the first person in so long who he wanted to be honest with but he didn’t know how.

Demo had listened. Attentively, carefully, concern etched into his face all the while, an open book, practically annotated and with references, in a way that scared him so much because he knew he might not ever be able to reciprocate that honesty on any level and that idea, for the first time, legitimately hurt him. And Demo had gently, picking his words so very carefully, assured him that it was okay. That they would take things as slowly as Spy needed. That he could start by answering a question.

And Demo had kissed him, gently on either cheek just below his eyes, and asked him how he felt.

Better, he answered hesitantly if honestly, there in the wake of spilling his most horrible secrets. Drained.

And Demo had kissed him all over his face then, thanked him for being honest, told him he was so very incredibly brave, telling him all of that, and then being willing to try to continue being brave. And that had gotten to Spy again, gotten him back into those tremors, because Demo was honest. He meant it. Believed it. He really did think Spy was brave.

And god, maybe if Demo believed it, just maybe, it could be true.

#//demospy #//tenderness

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