#your brother is dead and lost and right there in arm's reach and gone forever with no hope of ever getting him back.

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

#your brother is a vampire. he's sitting across the table from you chatting with your mother about her day #and he's dead and he's gone and he's never coming back. #he laughs the same and he talks the same but his arm is cold when he grabs you in a headlock and your dog won't be in the same room with hi #he'll still hang around watching TV with you and give you wedgies and make stupid jokes #but you can't tell him about the bullies at school anymore because this thing with your brother's face will just find them and kill them. #and not even stupid fucking Jason deserves what the monster in your dead brother's skin would do to him. #your brother is dead and lost and right there in arm's reach and gone forever with no hope of ever getting him back. #i'm sure there are corollaries to be written about like ghosts and zombies but this is the one i'm personally hung up on recently

[altschmerzes]

@jamiesfootball because you asked, here's a random assortment of clips of prose that are stuck in my brain, from the highlights sections of various books i've read on my kindle, some short, some longer, some profound, some that just got stuck in the gears:

Everyone's judgement was impaired. Nothing said or done now could be trusted. But somehow it wouldn't be forgotten or forgiven.

the ritual, adam neville

"Real magic can never be made by offering up someone else's liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back. The true witches know that."

the last unicorn, peter s beagle

The unicorn was weary of human beings. Watching her companions as they slept, seeing the shadows of their dreams scurry over their faces, she would feel herself bending under the heaviness of knowing their names.

the last unicorn, peter s beagle

But at the same moment, Prince Lír said, "No." The word escaped him as suddenly as a sneeze, emerging in a questioning squeak - the voice of a silly young man mortally embarrassed by a rich and terrible gift. "No," he repeated, and this time the word tolled in another voice, a king's voice; not Haggard, but a king whose grief was not for what he did not have, but for what he could not give.

the last unicorn, peter s beagle (cutting myself off here or i'd just include half the book) (some more under the cut)

"You're a knight now, Kay. You're one of them. They can't touch you, and they'll listen to you. I want you to be my go-between. You're my consiliarius, man. I trust you." Arthur leans over, grasps Kay's arm. Pulls him to himself, until their foreheads touch. "I love you, Kay. You know that, right?" "I love you too, Arthur." "We're brothers, Kay!" "Yes," Kay says. "Brothers." Arthur smiles. And Kay knows, at that moment, that he's lost him. That the Arthur he knew is gone forever, had perhaps never existed in the first place. This new Arthur is nobody's friend, and nobody's brother. He is alone.

by force alone, lavie tidhar

“This isn’t how the story’s written. There’s no happy ending for kings. They become by beating or killing the competition, then they rule, then…” He makes a chopping motion. “Another upstart comes along. And he’s young, and he’s hungry, and he’s just a little bit more vicious and he’s not scared to die. The king is dead. Long live the king.”

by force alone, lavie tidhar

The astonishing thing was how little appreciation existed for what all this meant; for what Tomahawk could do. As if it had not penetrated human understanding that each of them could transport a 200-kiloton nuclear warhead and that ships carried them by the score; the circumstance scarcely realized that Tomahawk embodied a revolution not just in seapower but in warfare itself, to the extent one could fairly state that it made little difference any longer what happened to land weapons, whether they were banned or not. It is a hard thing to say but the fact was this: All of the talk concerning the restriction or elimination of lad-based missiles constituted a historic charade, terrible in its meaning, its illusion. If the last one of these had been removed by such negotiations, nothing would have changed. It was almost as though people were being lulled into forgetting that there existed something called the sea: and that there are many seas, indeed that they occupy seven-tenths of the planet, and that there is no spot of land that cannot be reached by an object launched from some sea by a ship. People either did not know or could not grasp the fact that a single ship, such as ours, could fairly well exterminate a continent. And there were many ships.

the last ship, william brinkley

I read the letters the ship's blinker sent back in white bickerings across the water BOATS UNDERWAY SILVA BACK WITH FINE CATCH ENOUGH FOR ALL HANDS SILVA SAYS FISH AS GOOD AS CAPE COD SO MUST BE SOMETHING SINCE SILVA SAYS THAT'S WHERE GOD WAS BORN

the last ship, william brinkley

All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany's Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect Them! Save Them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine! I have a duty!

the wee free men, terry pratchett

#gav gab #this truly runs the gamut of a bunch of things huh #long post

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

fic titles let's go!

A Distant Echo

Always and Forever

Not all who wander are lost

🤗 from @cross-my-heartt

Thank you for the ask darling 🥰 I had to sleep on these to get the idea juices flowing, but I hope you like what I came up with for these amazing titles!

A Distant Echo

After Fives is killed, he becomes a force ghost, just like all the clones do. He reunites with his fallen brothers and domino squad, and they all share a beautiful moment. However, there's one person missing, Echo.

After realizing Echo never died in the explosion, Fives goes searching for him. He eventually finds Echo on Skako Minor and is appalled by his state, but as a force ghost, he can't do anything to help him. So, he just stays there and talks to him. He tells him stories and jokes. Just like old times.

Then, one day, Rex shows up with a group of funky clones and rescues Echo. Fives is elated that Echo is awake and moving, but Echo still can't see or hear him. Fives hugs Echo as best he can through the force, but his feelings don't get through.

When Rex reveals to Echo that Fives is dead, Fives tries endlessly to console Echo, but he can't. Fives whispers, "I'm here. I'm still here", but Echo can't hear his voice.

Unhappy with his inability to reach Echo, Fives decides to follow him wherever he goes to make sure he stays safe. Fives, of course, is wary of Echo's new squad, but slowly warms up to each of them when he realizes Echo is happy.

Fives talks to Echo a lot. He'll hang over Echo's shoulder and comment on everything he does. He'll make hilarious jokes that no one laughs at. He'll try, and fail, to fight anyone who attempts to harm Echo. And he'll sit with him silently when he's sad.

When Echo finally passes and becomes a force ghost himself, the first person he sees is Fives. Echo rushes into Fives arms and cries, "I've missed you so much." To which Fives responds, "I never left your side."

Always and Forever

Omega is all grown up. She's fought with the rebellion, alongside the Bad Batch and Rex, for many years now. She's gone undercover, infiltrated imperial factories, battle stations, and much more. All for the sake of freedom.

Now, the rebellion is over. The remainder of the living clones are tired, very tired. As Omega aged normally, the clones aged rapidly. They all look like 'old men', while Omega is a beautiful young woman.

Unable to move as well as they used to, the old clones, weary from fighting, retire to Pabu. Omega runs the "old clones home" and welcomes any new clone that needs a place to stay, and eventually find a place to peacefully pass on.

The Bad Batch has slowly lost members. Old age has that effect on people. Omega mourns each one but continues to make the clones' last moments as comfortable as possible. Holding their hands. Letting them tell war stories. Wiping their tears. Never once allwong a single clone die alone.

But now. Now it's Hunter's turn. His health had steadily declined for the last few weeks. Omega watches closely, with immense pain in her heart. It's just like to Hunter to be the last of the Bad Batch to leave this world. He was too stubborn to die before the men he led so fearlessly.

Omega sits at his bedside, holding his frail hand against her face. She tries not to, but the tears begin to fall down her face. Hunter tugs his hand away, and Omega releases it. His shaking hand lifts up to wipe away her tears as he smiles. Omega smiles back.

"I'm going to miss you," Omega sniffles.

"Me too, kid," Hunter replies softly.

"You'll still be my brother, right?" Omega's voice cracks.

"Always and forever," Hunter answers as he drifts off to be one with the force.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

After the fallout from Order 66, Captain Rex goes into hiding from the Empire. He bids Ahsoka farewell and embarks on a new mission. Perhaps the most important mission of his entire career: save the clones.

Rex watches from the shadows as the Empire casts out and discards clones across the galaxy. Labeled as useless or unfit for the Empire's needs. He begins to build his network and finds a home base on Coruscant for refugee clones.

He scours the galaxy for more clones, rescuing as many as possible. Some go willingly, some refuse his hand, and others, well, others don't get a choice and perish before Rex can get them out. Their deaths weigh heavy on him, but he's only one man.

Slowly, he picks up more clones that will help with the cause, including Captain Gregor, Commander Wolffe, and, to many a surprise, Commander Cody. With a small force of some of the most loyal and trusting clones by his side, Rex continues his efforts.

Eventually, Rex recruits Echo into his cause, and the five clones, now a full squadron, lead the charge in clone rescue operations. Moving in perfect unison, they are a frightful force to be reckoned with. Follow Freedom Squad as they embark across the galaxy and save the clones!

#tbbb converses #i might just have to add these to my wip list #fic titles #fic ideas #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars

[diavolosthots]

(Angst) How would the brothers deal with their (boy/girlfriend) mc's death (if they didn't come back) after Belphegor killed mc?

Warning: mentions of death, angst

THE BROTHERS reacting to MC not coming back after Belphegor killed them 

Lucifer:

He knew Belphegor was a threat to Diavolo’s plan and overall, the whole human race, that’s why he locked him away in the first place. If there’s one thing that the eldest learned throughout the millennia, it’s that the youngest was quite stubborn and would pull through with anything once he set his mind to it; however, he didn’t think he would be that cruel. Somewhere, Lucifer had thought that Belphegor had kept some of his more angelic nature, or at the very least, given up on the plan after realizing how much work it would be, but of course that wasn’t the case. Just as Lucifer warmed up to you, just as the two of you formed a bond and started to understand each other, you were taken from him. He blamed himself, of course. None of this would have happened if he never mentioned the attic to you or if he would’ve watched the staircase a little better. You were a light in their lives, even he could see that, and you did not deserve to die by the hands of someone you barely knew. He blamed himself just as much as Belphegor blamed himself for the death of Lilith, and maybe that’s one thing they have in common.

Mammon:

To him, you were his. Sure the title was never official but it didn’t need to be, did it? It just needed to resonate in both your hearts or whatever. He was your first, and he took pride in that, and he liked you the most, more than any of his other brothers ever did. The situation with Belphegor still being here came as a shock to him. Belphegor? Still here? With the exchange program already going on? He wanted to warn you, to keep you away, but just as he was about to, it seems as if things already turned sour. Heartache, shock, and devastation all ran through him at once when he saw you dead, way later than all of his other brothers. Of course, anger toward Belphegor also ran through him, but he couldn’t focus on that as much as he was focusing on you. He also blamed himself; he was your protector, he swore to take care of you not only to Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, but also to himself, and yet… he couldn’t even do that. 

Leviathan:

It’s a long road into his life and he was still mad about the TSL thing, but he was starting to like you. His feelings always got pushed to the back of his head, though. He never thought he had a chance until he noticed that most of your smiles were directed toward him and those loving eyes were longing for him as well… Belphegor took what Levi never thought he would have and that’s why so much rage was running through him. In all honesty, he thought of crying right then and there and had it not been for the urge to tackle Belphegor to the ground, he probably would have. It was more anger than anything, mixed with disappointment. Part of him knew that that was just his life, that he could never have anything good in his life, but another part of him was holding onto that little bit of hope…

Satan:

He was wary of you, unsure of if he should risk letting you into his life. At first, it was for a sense of personal gain and playful manipulation, but he could tell you were special and he wanted to keep you special. It’s almost more like a safekeep.. Like something really important to him. The emotion confused him, but just before he could think about it for much longer, the news reached his ears and he will admit that his eyes went wide in shock. He wasn’t even necessarily angry, at first, he was just speechless. Just like that, you were gone. Had he missed some clues? Did you mention any interaction with Belphegor? It was confusing to him how he could not have noticed. Anger came later, once he figured out that there weren’t any clues for him to find and this was more than just a simple accident. 

Asmodeus:

As cheesy as it sounds, he actually forgot about Belphegor for a while when you walked into their lives. He was mesmerized by you, still is, even if he was cautious of your intentions. He has dealt with plenty of humans throughout the years and he wasn’t sure if you would be any different, but you were. You were so different that when he heard Belphegor got his hands on you, he got protective and immediately ran to the scene. Of course, he was too late, and a sudden rush of sadness ran through him, which caused shock. It was sadness for someone else and that wasn’t normal for him. He stared at you for a moment before leaving the room, tears blurring his vision as he pathetically ran through the halls. He couldn’t even look at you and he was feeling so weak; he didn’t even know why. Love? Was he starting to love you…?

Beelzebub:

Belphegor was always a sensitive topic for him and he avoided it as much as possible, but he felt like he could trust you with that information when he first had you over in his room after the kitchen incident. You were easy to talk to and you made him feel as if he wasn’t crazy for trying to support his brother and he hoped you’d be like that forever. He wanted you to meet Belphegor at some point to see that he wasn’t all that bad, but then the unthinkable happened and he didn’t even have the chance to show you Belphie’s good side when the bad side already got you. Guilt ran through him at speeds he can’t even imagine. He blamed himself because had he not told you anything, had he said to just stay away from his twin instead of trying to make Belphegor the good guy, then maybe you’d still be alive…

Belphegor:

His hatred for humanity outshone any ounce of sympathy he might have had for his brothers’ feelings toward you. You were human and thus you were bad. So gullible, too, but he wasn’t surprised. The way you practically ran into his open arms, so naively, it was almost cute, but he needed to prove a point to Lucifer and them, that’s why he did it…. And yet, when he held your lifeless form against his, after everything that had been done, he felt bad for a split moment. Maybe not for you, but himself. He let himself get this far; he lost control. He lost sight of everything and everyone that was important and let his own rage blur his vision for one measly kill… and you weren’t even at fault...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #obey me lucifer #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst #death

[ragingbookdragon]

The Four Corpsmen And Their Cheerleader

Lanternsis x Lanternfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I am obsessed with the Blue Lanterns you guys. Like they're legit my favorites. And since blue and green rings work best with one another...here's a story of that happening! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The guys were at their wits end against the troop of Yellow Lanterns; which wasn’t a common occurrence—being at their wits end that is, Yellow Lantern attacks were actually fairly common. Kyle winced as another barrage of yellow energy blasts hit the construct he’d formed; the eyes of the other two Lanterns turned to him.

“You good, Kyle?” Guy asked, pressing his own hand to the construct to pour power into it.

He nodded, though the strain was evident on his face. “Yeah, I’m good.” He shut his eyes and forced another surge of power into the construct, keeping it up and around them. “Have a plan yet, John?”

Their leader shot a quick glance from the side. “Hal’s keeping them busy at the moment, but his fly-boy distractions are only going to last for so long.” He looked at them. “We need to—”

“Coming in hot!” They all looked towards their rings at the voice and then Hal darted over the side, grunting when a yellow flash shot him in the side. He sunk down the construct wall. “Okay,” he breathed out in shock. “New plan because distraction’s gone out the window as of now.” He glanced at Guy. “Kick their asses?”

Guy snorted, cracking his fists. “Thought you’d never ask, Jordan.” His green eyes fell on John. “Any big speeches before we go in?”

John merely grinned but before he could speak, a scream pierced from behind the construct wall, and everyone shot each other confused glances because no one had moved or formed a new construct besides the wall guarding them. Kyle warned them as he dropped the barrier and they all saw a blue figure darting between the yellow suited Lanterns.

A nova of aqua shot out from the mysterious person as they flew towards them and they rose, the blue cape billowing around them as they cheekily grinned, “I thought we agreed that the four corpsmen needed a cheerleader?”

Hal matched their smirk. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here!”

She merely raised her hand and cool aura surrounded them as their rings recharged, powers surging to the highest levels without overpowering them. “Well, it seems I’m bailing my big brother and his best friends out of trouble.” (Y/N) turned and raised her hands, surrounding her own body with an aura. “Leave now or face the four corpsmen and a Blue Lantern!”

The fear-wielders practically hissed at her, and she tipped her chin up. “Corpsmen! To me!”

“We’ve so gotta talk about you thinking you’re bigger than us,” Kyle griped, even as he flew to her right just as she’d ordered; she snorted as Hal took her left, Guy and John on either side of the other two men.

“Please, I don’t think, Kyle.” She winked at him. “I hope.” Reaching down, she took Kyle and Hal’s hands. “Mind if I borrow some power?”

They merely smiled in return, and she shut her eyes, drawing deep from the well of hope inside her. She let the power flow evenly between the men holding her hands who in turn took Guy and John’s hands, letting the power even between the five of them.

“In fearful day, in raging night, with strong hearts full, our souls ignite…” The Green Lanterns beside her joined in on the oath, all speaking in unison, mighty and powerful. “When all seems lost in the War of Light, look to the stars—” (Y/N) opened her eyes and they glowed a beautiful blue. “For hope burns bright!”

The cosmos seemed to still as the power exploded from their bodies, and they watched as strong green and blue arcs echoed outwards. The Yellow Lanterns across the expanse of space screamed as the waves hit them and soon, they were turning around and fleeing.

Satisfied that their enemy had been defeated, she let go of their hands and rose a few feet up and away from them, a mile-long grin on her face. “Now that that’s over with…how about we go back to Coast City and hit a bar?”

Each of them smiled and nodded at the idea, when suddenly Kyle pointed. “(Y/N) look out!”

She barely had time to spin around when the space around her warped and a Yellow Lantern came into sight. A gasp escaped her as they thrust out the construct blade in their hand into her gut and she bent forward. The men around her shouted and instantly the enemy was being yanked off her, probably being pummeled into a pulp, but all she was concerned about was the fizzling blade that disappeared from her gut.

Someone put their hand against her stomach, and she collapsed into their arms, realizing it was Kyle. “Hey, I’ve got you,” he worried, pressing tight to her abdomen. “You’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

“Don’t get blood on your suit,” she joked, and he frowned at her, concentrating hard to heal the wound.

“Don’t make me laugh right now. This is serious.” He gazed into her eyes, whispering, “I can’t lose you.”

(Y/N) took his hand and forced him to look into her eyes. “Kyle Rayner, you needn’t be afraid when I’m here. Even if I’m wounded.” She smiled and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “Fear is merely the belief of imminent demise.” She shut her eyes and exhaled, the pulsing blue aura coming again as they held each other. “Hope, however, is the belief of imminent success. And I will always believe that.”

The aura was blinding and even the other men had to shield their eyes as it grew brighter and brighter, lasting for what seemed like forever, then it faded and (Y/N) stood before them, healed, as if she’d never experienced the wound—though her suit was new.

A deep blue, off the shoulder, long-sleeved dress/leotard that parted down the middle of her chest and back, turning sheer as it flowed down at her hips. Her gloves had morphed too, now a silver ring around her middle as the white sleeve stretched up her arm; her boots differed too, no longer closed around her feet. Instead, a silver ring was around her second toe, sapphires on the silver chain that wrapped around her ankle and calves. Her head was adorned with a silver and sapphire diadem, and around her neck was a silver band, and in the center was the symbol for the Blue Lanterns, growing bright as the day she received her ring.

(Y/N) opened her eyes and smiled, holding out her hand to Kyle. “Beloved.”

He matched her smile and pulled her into a hug, lifting her in the air—well, the space around them—and breathed, “(Y/N), you look like a goddess.”

“I’m your goddess,” she murmured, placing her hands on his shoulders.

They seemed to be lost in their own little world of love and devotion, and Guy blinked, looking over at John. “It’s so sweet, I almost don’t want to warn them that Hal here is about to blow his afterburner.” John cracked a toothy grin as Hal exploded in anger.

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE FUCK I’M LOOKING AT! BECAUSE IF IT’S ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS AND MY PRECIOUS BABY SISTER I’M LEGITIMATELY GOING TO COMMIT MURDER! QUIT FUCKING LAUGHING GUY! IT’S NOT FUCKING FUNNY, YOU DICK! WAIT! DID YOU FUCKING KNOW ABOUT THIS!”

John rested his hand on Hal’s shoulder. “Hal…everyone knows about Kyle and (Y/N).”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, why do you think the two of them always ‘patrol’ together?” Guy asked.

“WELL, I DON’T KNOW! MAYBE BECAUSE OUR RINGS WORK BEST IN THE PRESENCE OF A BLUE RING, GUY! AND MAYBE I JUST ASSUMED THEY WERE SUPPORTING AND ENCOURAGING EACH OTHER!”

Guy snorted. “Yeah, ‘encouraging’. More like fuck—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! KYLE YOU’RE DEAD!”

#kyle rayner x reader #kyle rayner x reader imagine #kyle rayner x reader imagines #kyle rayner imagine #kyle rayner imagines #kyle rayner #green lantern x reader imagine #green lantern x reader imagines #green lantern x reader #green lantern imagine #green lantern imagines #green lantern #lanternfamily #lanternfamily x reader #lanternfamily x reader imagines #lanternfamily x reader imagine #lanternfamily imagines #lanternfamily imagine #lanternsis #lanternsis imagines #lanternsis imagine #lanternsis x lanternfamily #dc comics #dc #dc imagines #dc imagine #hal jordan #john stewart #guy gardner

[stiltonbasket]

[soulmate au! prompt] Lan Wangjis reaction to hearing his soulmate laugh for the first time in 16+ years after wwx is resurrected

“Wangji! Wangji, wake up, look at your Huan-da--daifu, what’s the matter with him?”

His brother was beside him, shouting into Lan Wangji’s ears while the thick, cloying scent of battle gore seeped into his nose; but for once in his nineteen years, Lan Wangji could not find the strength to answer him. His spirit was nothing but an open wound, forever rent in two by the blow of his zhiyin’s demise--and no matter how desperately Lan Xichen called, the anguish in his voice could not match the bone-deep torment of Lan Wangji’s frayed bond, slashed to ribbons and cast asunder like a tattered war-flag left to unravel in the wind.

“Come away from him,” he hears one of the healers cry. “His soulmate is dead, Zewu-jun--it will be a wonder if he knows you at all until the shock is over!”

But the shock never faded, not entirely; and when Wei Ying reappeared at the Yiling courier station three months later, Lan Wangji cleaved to him heart and soul, almost as if he were the lost beloved whose name Lan Wangji would never have the chance to know.

__

When the part of his heart that once belonged to his mingding zhiren awakes for the first time in twenty years, Lan Wangji is certain he imagined it. After all, he felt his soulmate’s death as if their life was a little beating heart, being torn bodily out of his flesh so that he would perish in his absence; but he had lived on after that, and often imagined that he could feel his soulmate’s laughter despite the gaping void in the bond they left behind.

But when the laughter rings out again--insistent, wild, desperate like Lan Wangji would have been, if he ever had the chance to welcome a beloved newly returned from the grave--he leaps out of the tea-serving stall where he meant to wait for Sizhui and Jingyi (Jiang-zongzhu has already gone ahead, so determined to see his nephew win the hunt that he refuses to let the child lead his disciples on his own) and rushes up the mountain, neither knowing nor caring where he goes as he goes somewhere.

It can’t be, he thinks wildly, suddenly remembering the battlefield in Heijian where he felt his soulmate die. That feeling cannot be mistaken, not like this, and it has been half my lifetime since--

And then, as if today’s revelations have no limit whatsoever, he hears a warped, broken strain of music warbling out of a flute.

That is a terrible musician, is Lan Wangji’s first thought.

That is Wangxian, is the next.

Almost before he knows it, Lan Wangji reaches a flat, dusty turning in the road, and freezes at the sight of a thin young man standing there, playing his heart’s song on a crude bamboo dizi as if the melody had been written for him, and drawing Wen Ning away from the rest of the crowd. Lan Wangji is rooted to the spot, unable to think or move or breathe as Wen Ning leaps away amid the chaos, jumping straight past Jiang Wanyin--and Jiang Wanyin gives chase, letting out a roaring bellow and charging into the trees with the Jiang disciples at his heels, and then the man playing the flute falls to his knees and weeps.

But he is laughing through his tears, sucking in air and expelling it again as if he fears that he might suffocate, and Lan Wangji watches as his son and nephew run to his side, helping him lift his head while Jingyi fumbles in his qiankun bag for a bottle of water.

“He really is a lunatic!” Jingyi cries, clearly panicking: he most strongly resembles his Nie xiao-shushu in moments of crisis, especially when the crises involve ghosts or unquiet spirits. “Is it safe to make him drink water, Yuan-ge? Will he choke?”

“Gongzi,” Lan Sizhui says urgently, patting the man’s hand as Lan Wangji finally musters up the strength to move towards them. “Gongzi, did Jiang-zongzhu frighten you? You don’t have to worry about him, all right? You saved all our lives at Mo Manor last night, and we wouldn’t make you go with him anyway--you haven’t done any harm, even if you do cultivate the dark path!”

Cultivate the dark path--

Lan Wangji’s head is swimming. On the ground about six paces in front of him, the young man seems to be working himself up into a frenzy, letting out shouts of manic, high-pitched laughter and sobbing at the same time, and his eyes--a curious shade of grey, which Lan Wangji has only ever seen on a single beloved person--are fixed upon Sizhui’s, drinking in his every feature like a man guzzling water after nearly dying of thirst.

Wangxian.

Zhiji.

Lan Sizhui, who was first his beloved’s child before he became theirs, A-Yuan--

Vaguely, he wonders if his own heart, still registering the joy of his fated beloved after over two decades of silence, could possibly have stopped beating.

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji says: loudly, and clearly, making the man crumpled in the dust shake from head to foot. “Hold Mo-gongzi upright for a moment, so I can lift him. We will bring him back to Gusu.”

Wei Ying--for this unfamiliar-looking Mo-gongzi can only be Wei Ying, to play Wangxian so earnestly and nearly cry himself sick at the knowledge that A-Yuan is alive and well--gives a little gasp in Sizhui’s arms, tearing his gaze away from him and staring at Lan Wangji, and then he makes a small, hurt sound and faints dead away onto Jingyi’s lap.

“Shufu!” Lan Jingyi howls, completely forgetting that Hanguang-jun is the correct honorific to use in public, even for him; and looking ready to faint himself, unless Lan Wangji intervenes. “Uncle, I think he’s dead!”

A sharp pang goes through his chest. “Do not say such things, A-Yi,” Lan Wangji scolds gently, rushing to Sizhui’s side and lifting Wei Ying into his embrace. “Look, he is still breathing. Now, round up your classmates and follow me. We are leaving.”

When Sizhui and Jingyi finally turn away (casting several glances over their shoulders as they go, as if afraid that their mysterious savior from Mo Manor really might die by the time they get back) Lan Wangji waits for the rogue cultivators to clear out, and then he bows his head over Wei Ying’s and cries.

You came back, he sobs to himself, taking Wei Ying’s cold hands in his and pressing them to his lips. Wei Ying--you came back to me!

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #soulmate au #my fic #HERE IT IS AT LONG LAST #*jazz hands* i just think they're neat #pls reblog guys i beg on my knees #more reblogs = more prompts rip lol #but just #they!!!!!!

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5 | Angel Reyes

part I | part II | part II | part IV | series taglist

Title: A Heavy Heart to Carry

Thought that I would change, but I'm the same guy Blamed it on my youth, but I know I've had time

a/n: split this original part into 2. the second half of the couple's retreat will be in 5.5

warning: a character experiences a panic attack

rating: 💔

Sum: Angel Reyes doesn't fear much, but he's scared to face you once it's set in that he's broken your cardinal rule. He must decide what's more important: maintaining a lie or sharing a secret that will change the way you look at him forever.

Words: 9.4k

“Take him home, Ezekiel. Now. I’m serious. I am going to fucking kill him if he tries to stay here tonight. And then, I’m going to kill you for letting him.”

These are the words that stopped Angel Reyes in his tracks. Left him standing on the front steps, afraid to move past the threshold of the front door to his own house.

When he pulled into the driveway, exhausted covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat and blood, Angel was met with a sight that somehow managed to wring the knots in his stomach tighter.

The light from the living room cast a golden hue across the dark lawn.

He knew the odds of you being asleep upon his arrival were slim to none. You haven’t waited up for him in years. There’s no need to wait up when you know his whereabouts.

At some point in the evening, the attempts of communication stopped. Angel isn’t sure why, but he knows it isn’t a good sign.

He’d pushed against Ez’s shoulder prompting him to step up to ring the doorbell.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Ez had shocked his older brother, stepping into the war zone to calmly produce some sort of explanation. “We had to go down south, and shit got--we lost track of time. By the time we got finished, we--”

“Now that I know that neither of you is lying dead in a ditch somewhere, you can leave.” Despite your words, Ez didn’t move. He glanced over his shoulder towards Angel. “Or stay outside, I don't care, but he's not stepping foot in my house. Tell him I said test me.”

Needless to say, he didn’t.

Angel heeded the warning allowing his brother to drive him home. He didn’t bother calling you.

What’s the point of calling to apologize when you’ve just spent half the night ignoring the calls from the same person?

Hours have passed, and Angel hasn’t slept.

Although he’s now freshly showered, the cut on his hand poorly wrapped, Angel Reyes finds himself in the same predicament. Outside of your house.

Scared shitless.

Only this time around, Ez isn’t willing to risk his life for the sake of being collateral damage.

Both men remain in the driveway, eyes on the sunflower yellow-painted door of 1101 Rock Creek Avenue. Each is resting against the hood of Angel’s car. Waiting, silently willing the other to bravely ring the doorbell.

Angel releases the smoke in his lungs before reaching up to remove his sunglasses.

“You gotta go in at some point,” Ez glances over at his brother.

Angel doesn’t respond. He drops his cigarette bud to the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his shoe.

“Especially since we’ve been out here nearly an hour,” Ez continues, a tiny smile finding his lips as the sight of Angel’s rolling eyes. “Neighbors are probably gonna put in a call--”

“I’m checking the windows,” Angel responds. The humor in his voice falls flat as his eyes search the front of the house. “Gotta make sure she doesn’t shoot me the moment I touch the driveway.”

“Shouldn’t have taught her how to shoot.”

The daggered stare sent his way causes the youngest Reyes to chuckle. Shaking his head, Ez takes a step forward.

“Angel. It doesn’t matter if you go in now or later.” He sighs. “If Y/N's gonna shoot you, she's gonna shoot you-- regardless of the time.”

“Yeah.”

Getting up, Angel crosses the lawn to the front door. Although he now has a key, he reaches forward to ring the doorbell. For a brief second, he considers turning around and heading back to his car.

His stomach tightens as the door swings open. He lets out a sigh of relief when he’s met with the sight of a smiling Isabela.

Her smile slips, her eyes narrowing as she stepped outside. She waits until the door is shut securely behind her to speak.

“What the fuck, Reyes!” She shoves hard against Angel’s shoulder, not blinking as he stumbles a step back. Angel massages his shoulder as she lowers her voice. “I orchestrated the perfect week for you two. All you had to do was show up with a packed bag, and you somehow managed to fuck everything up. Where the hell were you last night?”

Although he’s had all night to come up with an excuse, no coherent words come out when Angel opens his mouth. Isabela’s eyes roll, her attention shifting to a quiet Ezekiel standing just beyond his brother’s shoulder.

“And you. I thought you were the smart one.”

Ez looks away from a flushed Angel to find Isabela’s glare on him. He opens his mouth to respond, but suddenly Angel’s inability to speak has washed over the youngest Reyes.

“You didn’t think it was smart to drag him home in time for his son's recital?”

Angel’s voice has returned. It comes out lower than he’s intended. His eyes briefly shift to the front door.

“She’s--”

“Pissed.” Isabela sighs as she turns to the door. “I’d thank Bishop next time you see him. He talked her down last night.”

Isabela pauses just as Angel steps forward to follow her inside.

“Angel, she lied to Jeyson for you,” she says. “You need to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“Hey, lego master,” Isabela smiles as she steps back inside. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Jeyson is on his stomach, lying in the center of the living room floor. Chin resting in his hands, he is studying the progress he’s made on his lego set.

A grin brightens his face as Angel steps inside. He scrambles to his feet, pulling a chuckle from his father as he nearly crashes into his legs.

“Hey, lil man. You good?”

Allowing him a quick hug, Jeyson takes Angel’s hand in his. He tugs him towards the living room. He motions towards the legos on the floor.

“I finished all the escape pods! Now, you can help me with the left-wing--”

“Hold up,” Angel diverts Jeyson’s attention, lifting him off the ground, forcing him to silence. “I wanna talk to you about something--”

“Last night?” His question silence his father. Jeyson reaches forward, his fingers tracing the patch on Angel’s chest. “Mom talked to me already.”

“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to apologize. To say I’m sorry for not being there to see you play.”

“It’s okay.” The smile he offers tightens Angel’s throat. It is a smile that matches his words perfectly. A smile of forgiveness often comes when a child is willing to look past moments of a letdown if that means they can still spend time with that person.

“It’s not okay,” Angel admits. He watches as Jeyson’s gaze lifts to meet his before dropping to patch. “I broke a promise, and I’m not supposed to do that. I’m sorry.”

Jeyson studies his father’s expression. A smile slowly spreads across his face as an idea sets in.

“I can play it for you now.” He suggests, his attention moving to the piano across the room.

That’s where you find the two when you step into the living room.

Jeyson has finished playing and is giggling as he watches Angel try to match the series of keys he just showed him.

“What’s so funny?” Angel’s brow arches as Jeyson attempts to stifle his laughter. “I think it sounded pretty good.”

Jeyson shakes his head.

“You weren’t paying attention.” Reaching over, he moves Angel’s hand into the correct placement. “Your fingers aren’t in the right place.”

Angel’s gaze falls to his hands. To him, they seem to be in nearly the exact same spot. But he knows better than to argue with your son. He watches Jeyson’s fingers, trying to match the same tune. Only he can’t, the smile on his face growing once he realizes the tempo has changed. Jeyson plays at a cadence that seems hyper speed to his father but is nothing out of the normal for him.

“It’s not nice to show off,” Angel chuckles as he tickles Jeyson’s side.

Angel glances over his shoulder, his smile dampening as he finds you waiting patiently by the door. Jeyson’s smile does the same, his eyes widening once your conversation from last night sets in.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” you nod, watching as he gets up, his head hanging forward as he crosses the room. “Remember we talked about this last night?”

Jeyson waits until he’s standing before you to speak. With his arms wrapped around your middle, face pressing against your shirt, his words come out muffled.

“But, I want to come with you.”

“I know, but you have to stay and keep Isabela company. You guys are going to the carnival tomorrow. You're going to have so much fun.” Your fingers brush through his hair, a smile finding your lips as Jeyson tips his head back to look at you. “Besides, I won’t be gone long.”

“Five days is a long time,” Jeyson pouts. “You’re never gone that long.”

He’s right. The longest you and Jeyson have been apart being two days. For the weekends when he would spend the majority of his time at his father’s house.

“You can call me whenever you want,” you remind him as you squat down in front of him. “And then, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Tommy Flores currently stands at the front of the line. The weight of the metal door causes it to slam shut with a loud bang.

The echo vibrates through his chest, the force doubling him over. The dialed-up pitch brings Tommy’s hands to his ears.

He’s stopped in his tracks. His silent plea, to stop the ringing in his ears, sparks a slew of grunted protests from the inmates behind him.

Officer Rogers stands near Tommy, his shoulder resting against the wall. Each time an inmate is escorted through the secured door, the guard slams it shut with as much force as he can. He watched as Tommy flinched each time, the sound louder with each step he got closer. Now that Tommy stands directly in front of it, the sound is too loud.

Rogers steps forward, his lips turning up into a sneer.

"You alright there, Flores?" The lack of concern in his voice is amplified by the soft chuckle he releases. "You look like shit. Rough night?"

It's a question, Rogers knows the answer to. Better than anyone--well almost anyone.

He was the one who woke Tommy, in the middle of the night, the glare of his flashlight blinding the inmate. He yanked Tommy from bed, hand-delivering him to the showers. He stood guard, watching as Tommy took each blow and kick sent his way. He hand-delivered Tommy back to his cell, denying his trip to the infirmary.

Rogers would never admit it, but he was initially shocked when saw Tommy shuffle into the visitation line. He knew Tommy had a scheduled visit but didn't expect him to have the strength to bother trying to attend it.

"Your girlfriend coming today?" Rogers continues as he watches Tommy's fist clench. "Must be. That's the only reason I could think you'd get up this morning. Maybe I should let your friends give you another round tonight. How's that sound?"

Tommy's body is bumped forward—a silent warning from his cellmate to move. The shove to his shoulder clenches his jaw shut. But Tommy knows better than to hold up the line any longer than he already has.

Each step he takes is slow, sending a jolt of searing, white-hot pain down his spine.

The swelling of his right eye limits his vision, but he’s able to recognize a familiar face in the crowded room.

Each grey table is occupied by anxiously waiting loved ones. Tired from the extensive process of being cleared for visitation day. Hopeful their time won’t get cut short due to the delay of the inmate's arrival.

As he’s shuffled forward, Tommy’s gaze is fixated on his feet. It’s easier to ignore the look of pure rage directed his way.

“Stop staring.” The smile on Tommy’s lips is a good attempt. No matter how much he wills it, it can’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Leonardo Flores's gaze slowly studies the man before him. He knows his younger brother better than anyone. The blue Stockton uniform covers most of the damage but judging by Tommy’s walk and shallow breathing, he’s nursing a broken rib.

Leo doesn’t speak until Tommy’s gaze lifts. “I’d ask how you’re holding up, but it seems you’re still getting settled.”

His observation prompts his brother to shrug. Tommy winces as he shifts to bring his hands to rest on the table.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Tommy smiles.

“I thought this lawyer you got was supposed to be good—"

“She is.” Tommy’s sigh goes unnoticed. “She's good.”

“If she’s so good, why the fuck are you in gen pop?” His brother’s eyes roll, Leo’s head shaking once he gets no response. “Huh? She doesn’t seem too concerned about doing her job. If she was you wouldn’t have been nearly beaten to a pulp—"

Leo’s rant slowly fades out, blending into the surrounding conversations. It takes all of his concentration for Tommy to drown out the sound. Tommy’s eyes are shut, his left hand massaging his brow. The throbbing in his head seems to be getting worse. He flinches as Leo’s boot scrapes his shin.

“I don’t know what the fuck you want me to say, Leo.” Tommy laughs dryly, the throbbing in his head pumping irritation into his voice. “She could pay off the entire fucking city of Santo Padre, it’s not gonna mean shit.”

His eyes open to see Leo’s jaw clenched. He presses on as Leo opens his mouth to speak.

“They put me here because they’re hoping I don’t make it to trial.”

“Judging by how you look, you won’t.”

Tommy shakes his head, dismissing the observation.

“I’m fine. I need you to do something for me.”

An uneasy wave washes over him at the sight of Leo’s rolling eyes.

“What?” Leo chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest. “Your brothers can’t help you?”

“I don’t trust the club with this,” Tommy admits.

No matter the amount of truth behind his statement, Leo’s expression doesn’t change.

Probably because Leo knows the truth. With the number of years he’s facing, Tommy will soon be forgotten by his fellow Horsemen. You’re only worth remembering if you’re valuable to the M.C. Tommy’s not valuable rotting in Stockton. It doesn’t matter if the charges he’s acquired were at the expense of the club.

“Leo—"

Leo’s sigh drowns out the plea in Tommy’s voice.

“What is it this time, Tommy?”

Tommy doesn’t miss a beat. His voice drops, his eyes briefly passing to the guard nearby.

Angel forgot what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your silent treatment. It’s brutal. Probably because you stick to it, religiously. The silence isn’t the worst part. He knows you’ll have to talk to him—eventually. He also knows that once you do, the words you’ve prepared will cut him to the bone.

When it comes to arguments, Angel operates on pure emotion—always ready to fight a war. He says the first thing that comes to mind, often trying to hurt whoever he’s arguing with before they can hurt him. He wishes you were the same.

You have an incredible ability to walk away from an argument on a whim. He can count on his left hand the number of times you’ve raised your voice at him. In all the time he’s known you.

You don’t see the purpose in having a screaming match. It never gets you anywhere. One of you has to operate on the side of logic. Angel has learned that once you’ve had the chance to get your thoughts together he’s in for a world of trouble.

He’d foolishly tried to get the conversation going the moment you both got in the car, but you beat him to the punch.

“I’m not talking to you right now.”

The declaration had come out just as Angel opened his mouth to speak. It also made him close his mouth, his brow furrowing.

“We’re about to drive for four and a half hours, Y/N,” he sighed, his eyes rolling as he sticks the key in the ignition. “You’re really not gonna say anything to me the entire ride there?”

He waits for you to respond, his eyes dropping to the bouncing of your knee.

“And then what? You’re not going to go speak to me at the hotel? What sense does that ma--”

“Trust me, Angel. You do not want me to say what’s on my mind right now.”

Angel’s not certain if it’s the admission itself, or the look in your eyes, but he silently redirects his attention to starting the car.

The four-and-a-half-hour car ride ironically turns into a six-hour trip of stop-and-go traffic. Six hours of Angel left to fiddle through the various radio stations while you silently scroll through your iPad.

At the three-hour mark, your voice breaks the silence, peaking Angel’s hopes. At this point, he’s willing to take you yelling at him if that means you’ll eventually talk again.

He glances away from the bumper-to-bumper traffic to find you holding up your iPad. The screen facing him, you ask. “Have you seen this before?”

He leans over the console for a better look at the image on the screen. His stomach drops as he takes in the jet-black stallion, his mouth going dry as his gaze passes over the red eyes.

“Thinking about getting some new ink?” He jokes his throat clearing as your eyes roll.

“Nevermind.”

Redirecting your attention back to your iPad, you don’t catch the nervous glance Angel sends your way. A few minutes of silence pass before he glances back in your direction.

“What’s it for? The uh--tattoo.”

“Work.”

That’s all he’s able to get out of you. Even after you arrived at the hotel, where you discover that Isabela has booked the two of you for the hotel’s honeymoon suite. Which comes with a complimentary package that Angel is almost certain you won’t partake in. He gets nothing out of you when you are both informed that your introductory session with the couple therapist on sight is in less than an hour after your late arrival.

The counselor, Dr. Mallory, currently sits across from the two of you. The smile on her face remains in place, even as she watches you put as much distance as possible between you and Angel. The task is nearly impossible with the small sofa she’s sat you both on.

Angel's eyes roll to the ceiling before he lets out a deep breath.

Dr. Mallory’s question breaks the silence.

“How long have you two been married?”

Angel’s eyes shift to you. He answers as your gaze remains focused on the pillow in your lap. “We’re not.”

“Divorced?”

“Seven years.” A dry laugh escapes his lips as he softly shakes his head. “To do the date...actually.”

“Oh, I see.” Dr. Mallory’s smile widens as her gaze passes between the two of you. “You’ve decided to join our retreat, as a means of reconnecting. Hoping to bring back, and foster, that love that brought your two beautiful souls together all those years ago.”

“Uh...yeah.” Angel nods slowly as Dr. Mallory’s hand shifts to rest over her heart.

Her eyes close, her smile softening as she lets out a sigh.

“Love is such a beautiful thing,” her eyes open as she continues. “And I am so happy to see the two of you are willing to give it another try. But, more so, I am honored that you have elected me to help guide you through this journey.”

“What exactly does this ‘journey’ entail? We’re not about to go sit in the desert and sing kumbaya or some sh--”

The elbow that digs into Angel’s side swallows the rest of his sentence. He glances over at you.

“It’s a serious question,” he coughs. “I didn’t realize we signed up for some journey that has to do with...souls traveling together…”

Dr. Mallory’s eyes had brightened at Angel’s question. Angel’s words trail off as he realizes Dr. Mallory is no longer seated. She is not standing directly in front of both of you. Holding two orange sheets of paper.

“I have accumulated a list of activities that will allow the two of you to get in touch with your inner selves this week.” She beams, not noticing the uneasy look that washes over Angel’s face as she continues. “One cannot love their partner wholeheartedly until they truly love themselves.”

Angel’s eyes quickly scan the list, realizing that it's more than a list of suggestions. It's a checklist.

“This week, the two of you will work on opening the airs of communication,” Dr. Mallory continues, motioning between the two of you. “Which I can sense are bogged down at the moment, by anger and mistrust. We want to take the time to open them back up--”

“No offense, Doc, but this isn’t going to work.”

“Mr. Reyes, I ask that you don’t speak that way this week. Everything that you put into your relationship can work.”

“It’ll be hard to work on our…” It takes all Angel has not to roll his eyes. “...airs of communication when she’s not even speaking to me.”

Dr. Mallory returns to her seat, her attention focusing on you.

“Angel is right. Ms. Reyes, care to share what’s on your mind with him? He seems eager to listen.”

Angel watches silently as you keep your gaze on the sheet of paper before you.

“Last night was the first night that I have wanted to kill you. And I mean it in the most literal sense, Angel.”

Angel’s throat tightens, his gaze dropping to his hands.

“You’ve done a lot of shit, Angel. But last night you didn’t see your son’s face when he realized that you were not showing up. You promised that you would never do that again.”

Angel attempts to swallow the lump in his throat. He shifts in his seat, his gaze briefly looking towards you.

“I know.”

“I had to get a call from the school telling me that you decided not to pick our son up. You could have picked up the phone, and called me.” The calmness in your voice does nothing to ease the knots in Angel’s stomach. “Since you’ve forgotten, Angel. You don’t get the courtesy of falling off the face of the earth. Club business, or not. You have a son.”

Angel doesn’t offer up a response. Primarily because he knows what’s coming next.

“What could possibly have happened that you disappeared off the face of the earth last night--and don’t say club business. Bishop is not that great of a liar.”

Angel swallows, his eyes briefly drifting across the room to where Dr. Mallory sits.

He can feel your expectant gaze on him, but he can’t bring himself to look at you.

He can also feel it rising in his throat. Words he hadn’t planned on telling you. His eyes drift shut as he sighs.

“I uh...I followed Samuel to this bar downtown.” A silence falls over the room. Angel looks up from his hands, watching as your eyes widen. “Aiden, he told me what he did to you--and I just wanted to talk to him.”

“And that’s all you did?” The look of skepticism sent his way causes Angel’s jaw to tighten.

“Yeah. I told him to leave you alone.”

Dr. Mallory interrupts the silence, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Samuel? Who is he?”

“Nobody.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “He’s her boss.”

“I went on a few dates with him,” you sigh. Your fingers massage your temple.

You already know where this conversation is going.

A smile finds Dr. Mallory’s face as she watches Angel shake his head.

“No, this is great.” An encouraging smile finds her face. “You see, you two are already past the most difficult part. Starting the conversation. Angel, tell Y/N how you feel about this situation involving Samuel.”

“You shouldn't have dated other people.”

Your brow furrows as his statement sinks in. “Did you miss the part where we got divorced?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying? Do you know how many women I had to hear that you slept with? Half of the time from you!” The sight of Angel’s rolling eyes is enough to make you shift in your seat. Turning to face him, you watch his jaw clench. “So you can fuck anyone you want, but it’s a problem when I go out on a date with someone?”

“Yeah.”

You blink, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. Clearly, you’ve heard him wrong.

“Do you know how hard it is watching you fall in love with someone else?”

“Oh my goodness!” Your voice comes out muffled against the palms of your hands. “What is it with you and Samuel putting more stock in this situation than it deserves? I wasn’t falling in love with him, Angel--”

“But that’s what you were looking for?” He cuts you off, the raising of his voice causing your hands to drop. “Why else do people date? Yeah, I slept around, but you never had to worry about me trying to replace you with someone else. For years, I’ve had to watch you go through relationships, bringing other men around my son like you were auditioning them for the role of his father--”

“You know I wouldn’t do that--”

“Yeah, well, we all do things we don’t think we’re capable of.”

“Well, Dr. Mallory. Congratulations. You have just witnessed the one thing Angel Reyes is always capable of doing.” You shove the pillow in your lap towards Angel. “Trying to make me feel guilty for something that he’s done. This time, I’m not apologizing to you for anything. And I’m not saying 'thank you' if that’s what this whole woe is me act is about. I didn’t ask you to go see Samuel. Just like I didn’t ask you to sit here and lie to my face.”

“I’m not lying to you--”

“You may have gone to see Samuel, but that’s not where you were last night. I know you, Angel. You didn’t skip out on our son for Samuel.” It’s an observation that gets the response you’re looking for. It’s a look that lasts for only a brief second. A look in Angel's eyes that tells you that you’re right. It disappears as quickly as it had come. “And until you’re willing to stop lying to me, I’m not staying here.”

Angel’s jaw sets. “Since we’re talking about capabilities, her specialty is walking out. She walked out on me seven years ago, and she’s doing it now.”

“Maybe this time, you'll actually stop and ask yourself why,” you mumble as you step over his feet.

Ez is sitting on the living room sofa. He’s not in the most comfortable position but hasn’t been able to move for the last hour. He’s drinking a beer, his eyes on the television playing quietly across the room.

He’s not even sure what show he’s watching. A series Isabela had roped him into. The room is pitch dark--apart from the glow of the screen--the house quiet. Jeyson has been asleep since his 9 pm bedtime.

Despite her need to catch up on her favorite tv show, Isabela is also asleep. With her head resting against Ez’s shoulder, her body curled up against his, Isabela has been asleep for the last hour. If asked, she’ll blame it on Ez. The second he allowed her to share the blanket with him, his body heat acted as a furnace. One that pulled her right to sleep.

Ez is currently debating on the best way to transfer her from the living to the bed when his phone lights up.

He knows who is calling before he checks the caller I.D.

Angel has been texting Ez non-stop.

Angel’s voice comes out low through the receiver. “If I don’t call you back tomorrow it’s because she’s stabbed me in my sleep.”

“You better take the couch tonight then.” Ez brow furrows, wincing as he double-checks the time on his brightly lit screen. “Why are you whispering?”

“I’m in the bathroom.” Angel quickly dismisses his brother’s question. “Listen, it wouldn’t make a difference. Trust me. She hasn’t been talking to me--except for when she ripped me a new one in therapy today--”

“Therapy...hope you tipped the doc.” Ez chuckles. “Having a witness might have saved your life.”

“...she knows about Samuel.”

Ez releases a sigh, his hand running down his face. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“I had to tell her,” Angel mumbles. “It's not like I could tell her about last night. I figured…”

“Give her something else to be mad about?” Ez shakes his head, sparing his brother the laugh. “Angel--”

“I’m working on it.” Angel’s side goes quiet for a moment. His admission is an admission of truth. He has been thinking about it for the last twenty-four hours. “I'm gonna tell her, I just need the right moment...besides, don’t rush me. She’s gonna be mad at you too when she finds out you helped.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how I always end up in your shit.”

“That’s what brothers are for,” Angel chuckles. “Remember what I said. If I don’t answer tomorrow--”

“Bye, Angel.”

Hanging up, Ez pushes his phone aside.

He carefully lifts the blanket covering him and Isabela. He successfully carries her down the hallway to the bedroom and has finished tucking her in when she stirs.

She watches as he removes one of the extra pillows from the bed before taking a step towards the door.

“I know it might be extremely difficult for you to stay on your side of the bed,” she yawns, rubbing at her eyes. “But I’m willing to share it with you, as long as you let me take the left.”

A smile spreads across Ez’s face as he watches her pat space next to her. He lifts the pillow in his hand. “Bed’s all yours tonight. I’m gonna take the couch.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he chuckles. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Okay,” Isabela’s eyes are already drifting shut as she yawns. “Well, just know the offer still stands if you change your mind.”

“Besides, I gotta at least take you out on a date before we start fighting over sides of the bed.”

“Give me the time and place, and I'll be there,” she giggles, her face nuzzling against her pillow. “Just know I’m a tough negotiator.”

Since when has knocking become so difficult?

It is the question you ask yourself as you stand outside the bathroom door. You quickly knock before you can change your mind.

“Yeah?”

“Um--are you decent?”

Your eyes grip shut as you let your own words sink in.

Are you decent?

The bathroom door opens to reveal a freshly showered Angel. He stands on one side of the double sink. His phone is in one hand, a towel in the other. He wears just a pair of briefs, his hair still dripping from the shower.

“What are you doing? You’ve been in here forever.”

“I've been done for a minute,” he responds, his eyes glued to his iPhone. “Didn’t know you were waiting on me.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t go to sleep until I brush my teeth.”

“You could’ve just come in.”

“You were taking a shower.” Your response is automatic.

It is also the same thing that has kept you waiting patiently on the bed for the past thirty minutes.

“You’ve seen me naked before, querida.”

He glances away from his phone to find you still hovering in the doorway. Toothbrush in hand. Your weight shifts as his eyes linger on the black satin sleepshirt you wear. His gaze returns to his phone once he realizes he’s still staring.

“You can enter since apparently, you need the invitation,” he responds, a smile finding his lips. He doesn’t need to see your face to know your eyes are rolling.

Angel may be silent as you start your nighttime skin routine, but he’s panicking inside. Panicking might not be the right word. Paranoia has begun to set in.

From the moment he and Ez made it stateside Friday night, the realization of his actions began to set in. The realization that he has somehow managed to tie himself to Tommy Flores for the second time. The note he'd shoved into his pocket was now in the trash back in Santo Padre. The message, however, was seared in his mind.

Always get insurance.

You were right to ask what Angel has been doing for the last thirty minutes. He’s been searching for information on Tommy. From the moment he started the search, Angel realized this was a terrible mistake.

Now that you’re standing next to him, the cut on his hand seems to throb. He glances down at the bandage. It’s bled through and needs to be removed.

You’re brushing your teeth when you glance up to the mirror before you. You pause, watching Angel's reflection as he studies his right hand. Strangely, it’s the first time you’ve noticed the bandage.

You wait until you’ve rinsed your mouth to face him.

“What happened to your hand?”

Instinctively, Angel moves his hand out of sight. He drops it to his side.

“Nothing,” he responds, suddenly focused on toweling his damp hair.

“It was bleeding?” You reach around him, ignoring his silent protest.

Angel knows there’s no point in fighting you on it. He turns to face you, allowing you to get a better look at his hand. Unwrapping it, you feel him flinch as the cool air hits the open cut. He drops the towel to the floor, resting back against the sink as your brow furrows.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Before he can respond, you’re already out of sight.

Angel stays where he is, waiting patiently for over five minutes. His brow rises when you return, a black bag in your hand. It is one he’s known you to carry for as long as he can remember. He always teases you for carrying the first aid kit, but always seems to need you to use it on him.

A tiny smile finds his lips as he watches you sit the bag on the sink. “You packed this in your suitcase.”

“No,” your eyes roll as you reach forward to cut on the water. “I keep it in the trunk. Let me see your hand.”

Offering it, Angel watches your expressions as you take the time to study the cut. Whatever questions are on your mind, you don’t share them with him. You don’t say anything else. You silently clean and wrap the cut.

“Thanks.”

The kiss he presses against your cheek halts the washing of your hands. He doesn’t linger to leave a second. He picks up his phone before leaving you alone.

When Angel wakes, he finds you quietly moving around the suite. Cell Phone in hand, one shoe in the other.

“You’re leaving me?”

His question causes you to jump.

“Yeah,” You release a sigh as you turn to find him watching you from his makeshift bed. “I was hoping you’d sleep through my getaway.”

Sitting up, Angel glances over as you take a seat alongside him. He silently watches as you slip on your shoe, his eyes passing over your leggings and sports bra.

“Where are you going?”

“Yoga. Figured you wouldn’t want to come. It’s not really your thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s a couples class…”

He doesn’t add anything to his previous statement. Instead, he stands.

“So, you’re coming?” You ask, watching as he pauses to stretch.

“Yeah, it’s just yoga.” He yawns. "Besides, Dr. Mallory said we gotta do things to nurture our souls."

You’re not sure if Angel tagged along to make a point or because he honestly thought it would be easy.

At the moment, you’re concentrating on keeping your breathing controlled and steady. Your eyes are closed, the only blinders you have for the man on the mat alongside yours.

Although you can no longer see him, you know Angel is in the same state as before.

Struggling.

The hushed “shit” he releases, as he wobbles, brings a tiny smile to your lips.

Angel’s eyes shift from the instructor, who is slowly making her way around the room, towards you. He readjusts his posture, trying his best to mirror your stance. But it seems no matter what he does, it doesn’t look like yours.

He wipes at the sweat on his brow. “I thought we were starting with the easy stuff.”

“This is a beginner’s pose,” you note. Your eyes open, a giggle escaping your lips once you take in the look of skepticism on his face.

“You sure?” Angel watches as you effortlessly move into the next pose. He releases a huff, his neck rolling before he tries to follow your lead. “Seems like you signed us up for the advanced class. Just so you could torture me.”

“I didn’t even know you were coming.”

Angel knows your statement is one of pure truth, but that doesn’t stop him from chuckling, “feels like a setup.”

“You know you can always do the modifications,” you nod towards the front of the room. “It’s easier.”

Angel follows your gaze to where an elderly couple is demonstrating the modified version of the pose.

“Easier?” Angel scoffs. “I don’t need easier, I’m doing pretty good--”

He speaks too soon. His weight tips forward, the sight causing your concentration to break. Before he can fall, you catch his left hand pulling him upright.

Angel blinks. His widened eyes move to meet your gaze. A sheepish grin finds his lips as your grip remains tight around his hand.

You eye his less than steady stance. “Are you okay?”

Angel nods. The grin on his face begins to morph. The sight of his smirk causes you to drop his hand.

“Shit, for a second, I thought you were mad enough to let me faceplant.”

“Shut up,” your eyes roll as you redirect your attention back to the instructor. “I just have good reflexes.”

Halfway through the class, Angel gives up trying to follow along. He spends the remainder of class distracting you. When he’s successful in making you smile, he complies with your request “Angel, please focus. You’re going to get us kicked out.”

He settles back into participating. He sticks solely to the modifications. When the class ends, he manages a few steps before collapsing on your mat.

He rests his head on your lap, preventing you from standing. His eyes drift shut as he lets out a deep breath.

“Angel, get up.”

“I can’t,” he sighs. His right-hand rests over his heart, the dramatic change in his breathing causing you to shake your head. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Your eyes roll as he remains where he is. Head resting against your lap, eyes closed, a tiny smile on his lips. It grows into a familiar grin as the warmth of your fingers brushes against his skin.

Your touch lightly brushes through his hair. You watch his eyes open to meet yours.

“I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing,” he chuckles.

“I’m relaxed,” you smile, your touch drifting to his jaw. “You’re not relaxed.”

“Now I am. It’s what you owe me, after that hour of torture.”

“You get an A for trying.”

He smiles falters as he watches you let out a deep breath. The smile on your face is gone, the sight letting him know his plan hasn't worked.

"Can you get up now?" You ask as your eyes follow the couples filing out.

A red 1964 Chevy Impala turns onto Rock Creek Avenue for the second time this Sunday morning. Windows rolled down, music playing low, it comes to a stop alongside the light blue fire hydrant marking the end of the street. Although its idling engine has been cut, the gear shift in park, its driver remains inside.

Dressed in a worn leather jacket, too hot for the already humid morning air, Leo releases the smoke in his lungs. He had committed the address to memory when Tommy had whispered it to him the morning before.

He stops to double-check the home’s number as he returns his cigarette to his lips.

1101 Rock Creek Avenue.

The house itself is nothing special. Apart from the sunflower yellow-painted door, it is nearly identical to the other single-story homes which line the street. A street that is strangely quiet for the hour.

The impala’s dash clock reads 11:35.

Leo leans across the console tugging the latch from the glovebox. Shifting the Ruger, which lays inside, he retrieves the folded newspaper. He pauses long enough to close the glovebox before settling back against his seat.

He stays that way, finishing off his slowly dwindling cigarette, scribbling on the paper in his hand.

The Saturday edition of the Daily Imperial Gazette has a newly noted license plate number written in its top-left corner. The crossword puzzle for the day, ninety percent complete.

Focused on the black and white squares before him, Leo lets out a breath.

An eleven-letter word for satisfaction?

“...vindication…” he mumbles, scribbling the answer into the boxes. His gaze shifts to the watch on his wrist.

12:01.

A shift in his peripheral causes Leo to direct his attention elsewhere.

The sunflower yellow door opens, a woman stepping out. She has a black BB-8 backpack slung over her left shoulder, the eye of the orange and white droid catching a glint of sunlight. Her long dark curls are pulled into a high ponytail. She wears a purple tie-dye sundress and white platform sneakers. She turns back to the door, smiling at the man who steps out after her.

Although Leo has never met Angel, he knows this is not him. The prospect patch stitched across the back of Ez’s kutte, the indicator he needs.

“I can’t wait to see you have some actual fun,” Isabela giggles as Ez stops before her.

Ez’s brow furrows, the corner of his lips turning up slightly, as he meets her playful gaze.

“You make it sound like I’m boring.”

“Uh-uh, don’t put that on me. I did not say boring, you did.” Isabela’s nose scrunches in concentration. Her smile widens as she settles on a more fitting word to describe the man before her. “You’re always so...serious.”

“Serious…” Ez echoes. He watches as Isabela bites her lip, suddenly wondering if her word choice was taken on the offense. As she opens her mouth to add an explanation, Ez shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m just saying, I think I’ve seen you crack a smile maybe once since you’ve been here,” Isabela adds. “You don’t laugh at any of my jokes--”

“Maybe they’re not funny.” Ez glances up from the sunglasses in his hands. He watches Isabela’s hand find her chest, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “Besides, I didn't realize you were trying to impress me.”

For once, in their time together, Ez is able to render Isabela speechless. The smile that brightens his features, causes Isabela’s eyes to roll as she steps around him.

“Wait, can we go back a second? Did Ezekiel Reyes actually crack a joke?”

“I do it from time to time.”

“Well, you should do it more often because you have a cute smile, Zeke,” she teases. “Can’t blame a girl from wanting to see it more often.”

Ez fails at stopping the smile on his lips from morphing into a grin as he slips his sunglasses over his eyes.

Isabela takes a step back inside. “Jeyson Iván Reyes! Let’s go!”

With Isabela no longer before him, Ez’s gaze passes over the street coming to a stop on the red Chevy Impala. Aside from being illegally parked, the car would catch the attention of any passerby. It’s not every day that one sees a vintage car, in pristine condition, riding through the streets of Santo Padre.

He steps forward, giving the car a closer look. But he looks away once he gets the look at the driver’s seat. A man focused solely on flipping through a copy of the Daily Imperial Gazette.

Leo lowers the newspaper slightly. His focus moves past an unsuspecting Ez to the little boy who bolts out the front door.

In his Lakers jersey, Jeyson Reyes is nearly a blur of purple and gold. His laughter drifts down the street as his uncle catches and lifts him into the air.

“Someone’s excited,” Isabela giggles as Ez lowers Jeyson back to his feet.

“I wanna try the bumper cars!” The grin on Jeyson’s face is wide. His entire body radiates with anticipation as he impatiently watches his uncle lock the door. “And the ride that spins you around really really fast so that you’re dizzy—and the mini golf!”

“Yeah?” Isabela’s fingers brush through Jeyson’s curls. Her playful eyes drift to Ez, the smile on her face grows as Jeyson follows her gaze. “I think you and I can beat Ez over here. What do you say, J?”

Ez’s brow arches, his eyes briefly meeting hers before moving to Jeyson’s.

“We can beat him. Easy.” The confidence in Jeyson’s voice is almost enough to break his uncle’s facade.

Ez’s eyes study both pairs of brown eyes focused on him, his head shaking softly.

“I don’t know,” he winces as he steps towards the car. “What are you willing to bet on it, J?”

For a moment, Jeyson is silent. An endless amount of possibilities rush through the eight-year-old’s mind. His round eyes widen as he settles on an answer.

“Funnel cake.”

“Good choice.” Ez squats down before Jeyson. He offers him his hand, pulling it back slightly once Jeyson reaches for it. His gaze lifts to Isabela, his resolve finally cracking, a smile slipping through. “You two can’t back out when I win.”

Folding the newspaper, Leo tosses it into the passenger seat as he watches the truck back out of the driveway. As the truck rolls to a halt, before the stop sign at the end of the street, the engine of the 1964 Chevy Impala rumbles to life.

“When can we go on the Ferris Wheel?” Jeyson groans, the impatient whine in his voice causes his uncle to smile.

“In a minute.” Ez ruffles Jeyson’s hair before reaching into his kutte for his vibrating phone. “We gotta wait for Isabela.”

“Where is she?” Jeyson pouts. Standing on his toes, he releases a huff once he doesn’t see her. “She’s been gone forever!”

In reality, it’s only been five minutes. But five minutes can seem like a lifetime to a kid waiting anxiously to continue his exploration of the carnival.

Two hours in, and Ez has learned that Jeyson doesn’t tire easily.

“I thought you wanted ice cream?” Ez chuckles, glancing over to watch Jeyson shake his head.

“Not anymore,” Jeyson sighs. “I want to go on the Ferris Wheel.”

“We will the second Isabela gets back. Okay?”

Despite the pout on his lips, Jeyson nods as he meets his uncle's gaze.

The text that holds Ez attention is from you. It is a question that has been on your mind for the past few days.

Zeke, need that brain of yours. PLEASE tell me you know of a club with a stallion patch?

Ez’s brow furrows as he reads over the message. He types the first thought that pops into his mind. Followed quickly by the second.

Horsemen.

Don’t know much about them. Prospect...limited information. Gotta ask Angel about that stuff. He was at the table Friday.

He glances up from his phone at the burst of laughter coming from a passing group of teenage girls. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he takes it forward once he realizes that the insistent voice of Jeyson is no longer there.

“Jeyson?” Ez’s brow furrows as his gaze passes over those closest to him.

He has no sight of Jeyson, his stomach dropping as he takes another step forward.

The second time he calls Jeyson’s name his voice is louder, a slight tremble slipping in.

Despite it being a Sunday afternoon, the carnival is packed. The Ferris Wheel is on the last round of its current cycle. This has ushered in a shift in the crowd. People are rushing to make it to the line, excited for a seat on the upcoming cycle.

“Jeyson?”

The cheers and music drown out Ez’s voice. Between the bodies pressing against him and the breath that seems harder to pass than the previous, Ez can't quite remember the way he’s just turned from.

The tightness in his chest causes him to stumble forward. The thought of finding Jeyson slips away with each painful squeeze of his heart. It becomes painfully loud, drowning out the same cheers and music that had blanketed his voice mere seconds before. He can’t focus. His mind is useless, unable to bridge the disconnect to the rest of his body.

No matter how hard he tries to get air, Ez chokes on each breath he takes. No amount of air that he swallows can be caught by his lungs. He is left breathless, his feet blindly searching for a break in the crowd. His vision is blurred, the images blurring as his focus scrambles.

Through the crowd, he catches sight of a disfigured BB-8 backpack.

“Thank you! Have a great day.” Isabela’s smile widens as she accepts the two ice cream cones from the vendor. She drops the change into the tip jar, carefully sidestepping the couple running past her.

She stops to take a lick of her ice cream, her eyes scanning the crowd. She starts to move forward, in the direction of the designated meet-up point. A tall green pole, that houses a baby blue flag at its top.

Through the break in the crowd, she catches sight of Ez’s kutte. Her steps slow once she realizes he’s bent over, the cones she holds slipping through her fingers.

Ez can’t hear his name on her lips, but he can feel the heat of her shaking hands as they cup his face. Her body shifts with his, as Ez’s back presses against the pole. His lightheadedness dragging his body to the ground.

Despite the trembling of her hands, Isabela’s voice is calm as she lowers herself to her knees before him.

“Ez--hey, look at me. I need you to breathe. Okay?” The softness of her voice lifts Ez’s gaze from his trembling hands. A smile finds her lips, the sight forcing him to take a breath. “Good. Here.”

Taking his left hand in his, Isabela gives it a gentle squeeze before moving to place it over her heart.

“It’s okay, you and I can do it together.” Isabela takes a deep steady breath, Ez’s hand rising and falling with the motion.

It takes a second breath for him to follow suit. The harsh intake of breath comes in slightly smoother than before. His right-hand finds her waist, his eyes drifting shut as he tries to push out another breath.

The grip on her hip is painfully tight, but Isabela remains in place. Resting her forehead against his, she continues to breathe, her fingers gently brush against his cheek. With each passing second, her heart slowly anchors his forcing it to match the steady rhythm beating against his palm.

“Shit--” Ez’s voice comes out hoarse, shaky as he opens his eyes. “I’m sorry--”

His body tips back. Isabela’s weight pressed against him as her arms wrap around his neck. The hug she gives is tight, causing Ez to blink.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I uh--I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ez.” Isabela shakes her head, pulling back to get a look at Ez’s face.

The look of concern on her face drops Ez’s gaze to his hands. The slight tremble that remains causes him to clench his fist together.

He attempts to swallow the lump in his throat, but it remains. His voice comes out thick, as he shakes his head slightly.

“I haven’t had one of those in years,” he speaks quietly. “The first year in Stockton…”

Isabela nods, not needing him to finish the thought. Instead, she wraps her arms back around him. This time, Ez returns the hug, his face resting against the warmth of her neck briefly.

It’s not until she has him steady and on his feet that Isabela lets out a deep breath.

She looks around when a realization sets in.

“Where’s Jeyson?” The look on Ez’s face causes her to take a step sideways.

As she turns around, she stumbles forward nearly tripping over a grinning Jeyson.

“Oh my god--” Isabela lets out a deep breath, her hand finding her forehead as her eyes drift shut. “Jeyson, where did you go?”

Jeyson’s words come out muffled as he attempts to speak through a mouthful of hot dough.

“We went to get a funnel cake.”

“What?” Isabela’s eyes open.

Jeyson stands with a large plated funnel cake in hand. He wears a grin.

“You can have some,” he offers as Isabela brushes at the powered sugar dusting his cheek.

She blinks. “You don’t ever walk off without me or Ez. You don’t go with strangers, you know that--”

“He wasn’t a stranger.” Jeyson glances up from the piece of funnel cake in his hand. “He was daddy’s friend. He knew my name. He said it was a gift for doing good at my recital.”

His brown eyes widen as he takes in the look of confusion on Isabela’s face.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks. The possibility causes Jeyson’s smile to falter.

“No,” Isabela shakes her head, wrapping him in a hug. “You scared me, that’s all.”

You can learn a lot about a person from their home. Leo discovers all he needs about you the moment he enters yours.

Your son is the center of your universe.

Leo stands in your living room, his eyes passing over the incomplete Millennium Falcon set in the middle of the floor. Overstepping the abandoned legos, he moves closer for a better look at the photos hanging on the wall.

Jeyson is in nearly every photo. Spanning from baby photos, holiday shots, candid moments of fun, to yearbook photos, they allow Jeyson to grow up before Leo’s eyes.

He pauses at the latest hung photo.

Taken in September, it shows Jeyson standing between you and his father. The smile he wears matches Angel’s to the tee. It was taken on the first day of third grade. Jeyson is wearing his Gilman Prep uniform.

Leo lifts his phone, delaying long enough to snap a photo before moving on.

He starts his trek through the house. Sifting through recently delivered mail, abandoned on the kitchen counter. The piano holding the sheet music for Jeyson's recently passed recital. Studying the neatly printed schedule written across the whiteboard on the refrigerator door. The fully stocked bookshelf in Jeyson’s bedroom. The password-protected laptop on the desk of your office. The gun safe in your bedroom closet.

As he returns the closet door to its original position, his eyes pass over the room. They land on the dresser. The wooden, hand-carved jewelry box is smaller than he would anticipate from a woman. The first item to catch his attention is the oval cut diamond of your engagement ring, paired with the matching wedding band. He lifts both, pausing to study them in the sunlight peeking through the bedroom window. Returning them to their original resting place, he lifts the tiny velvet red box nearby. Inside, he finds a pearl necklace.

The necklace itself is simple. A single pearl embellished with a small, round white stone. It is a necklace you rarely take off. It was gifted to you years ago at a high school graduation dinner by Marisol.

Closing the box, Leo pockets it before leaving. The only sign he was ever there is the unlocked front door. It gives Ez a brief moment of a pause upon his return. He’s almost certain he locked it when they left. But with the high-speed rate Jeyson is talking at the moment, he chalks it up to his mind spacing.

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

mayans taglist: @lilacyennefer @pedropcl @holl2712 @rae-gar-targaryen @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @henrycavill19 @silverstarsandsuns @chellybear98 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​​ @noz4a2​​ @wiccanmetallicrose​​ @crxssourbones​​ @kimljn​​ @starrynite7114​​ @richonne4life​​  @themarkblues​​ @mariaxliliana​​ @thelovelyleo23​​ @hail-horror-queen​​ @gemini0410​​ @binooo98​​ @the-jer-bear​​ @abbiesthings​​ @losolvidad0s​​ @helli4nthus​​ @babaohhhriley​​ @futureleo1678​​ @whatupitshuff​​ @trhett21​​ @trulysuccubus​​ @minnicelli​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @capnsaveahoe​​ @leahnicole1219​​ @crashbarbie​​ @cyka1312​​ @zoovent​​ @lakamaa12​​ @keithseabrook27​​ @vir-tually​​ @awkwardtayler​​ @rawrlittlepanda-95​​ @irenne-stans​​ @pearlkitten33​​ @ezs-baby-angels-whore​​ @sesamepancakes​ @toni9​ @vannabanana1995​ @queenbeered​ @shawty-fenty​ @kaystacks17​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @anactualcaseofthetruth​ @star017​ @cant-decide-at-this-moment​ @cocotheclown​ @watsonwise​ @ilovebey2018​ @oscars-wifeyyy​ @rosieposie0624​ @jennisdirtyimagines​  @ughdontbeboring​ @jjwriter23​ @briskywalker​ @peoniarose​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @partypoison00​ @making-starsdance​ @claytoncardenasbabymama​ @myakai13

#let me know what you think? #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #lover of mine #mayans mc fic

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Steve’s Little Sister Is Off-Limits

Pairing: Post-Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader

Words: 1000+

Summary: The Reader is in a secret relationship with Bucky, but one day Steve walks in on them.

Warnings: explicit sexual content (vaginal sex, unprotected sex) That’s really about it. But it’s still smut. SMUT!!!! 18+

A/N: I enjoyed writing this a lot, because I thought it was an interesting concept. There is fluff scattered throughout the whole fic. Like a lot of fluff. Tooth-rotting fluff, well because it’s Bucky. I hope you enjoy this fic. 

Y/n Rogers is Steve Rogers younger sister. She is only two years younger than him, but still he is very protective over her. So when the two go into the ice, then wake up 70 years later. He is more protective than ever. Sometimes it’s nice, but when she has a secret relationship with his best friend it gets annoying.

Now Y/n is in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for the team. When she feels two arms wrap around her waist, then she feels a pair of lips on her neck. She leans into her boyfriend’s touch. “Buck, not right now. Steve could walk in any minute.” Y/n whines, and turns around in Bucky’s arms. He quickly steals a kiss then sits on one of the bar stools. 

“I just can’t help it, doll. You look so hot in those silk shorts.” Bucky says, and she turns around and he practically drools at the sight of her ass. She lightly chuckles as she feels his gaze on her. She continues to cook Breakfast, as the team files into the kitchen. She knows that this makes Bucky nervous being around other people, because he feels guilty. When he was the winter soldier he tried to kill almost all of them. Except everyone forgave him, but he hasn’t forgiven himself yet. So Y/n helps him ground himself by either letting him braid her hair or having him touch her in some way. The team sits at the large table in the dining room.

Sam, Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Vision sit on the right side of the table. Clint, Pepper, Morgan, Bucky, and Y/n sit on the left side of the table. Tony and Rhodes sit at each end of the table. Y/n sets the food on the table for people to take as they please. She sits next to Bucky, and she can see in his face that he’s trying not to bolt out of the room. She subtly links her pinky with his. She gently rubs the back of his hand with her thumb. He looks over at her and slightly smiles at her. When Breakfast is over it’s Steve’s turn to wash the dishes. So Bucky and Y/n sneak off to her room. They only do dirty stuff together when Steve is on a mission or caught up in stuff, so that he won’t notice they’re gone.

As soon as the lift doors close, Bucky has her pinned against the metal wall of the small lift room. He kisses her and she kisses back. He kisses down her neck, leaving little red marks, nothing that will leave hickeys. The doors open and she pulls him to her room down the hall. Y/n quickly opens the door and pulls Bucky in. He kicks the door shut, as she pulls him to the bed. He falls back onto the bed, and she climbs on top of him. She grinds on his already hard member, while he kisses her passionately. She leans up and pulls off her Y/f/c hoodie, leaving her nude from the waist up because she didn’t put a bra on. Bucky looks up and groans at the sight of her bare breasts. He scooted up to the head of the bed, with her still on his lap. He sits up and takes both of her breasts in each hand, and he rubs and pinches her nipples. He watches her face shift into a look of pleasure. She moans and grinds on his lap, without knowing it. He lets go of her nipples, and Y/n rips his shirt over his head. She throws it over her shoulder, before smashing her lips to his. They pull away and he looks into her eyes.

“It’s been so long, doll. Since we’ve done anything like this.” Bucky says, rubbing his hands up and down her hips.

“I know, Buck. Now it’s just me and you.” Y/n whispers, and kisses down his jaw to his neck. She sucks and nips at his neck, definitely leaving hickeys.

“No, visible hickeys, babygirl.” He says, and she smirks against his skin.

“That rule applies to you, not me. Steve doesn’t care if you get a hickey. He only cares if I have one.” She states, and he lightly chuckles.

“You remember back in the 30’s, I accidentally left a dark purple hickey under your jaw?” Bucky asks, as she leaves a hickey on his pulse point.

“Yeah. I remember. Steve wanted to rip the guy who did that to me to shreds.” Y/n says, then he rips off her shorts.

“Enough talk about your brother. Let me show you how much I missed you.” He whispers seductively, she smirks and helps him take off his sweatpants and boxers. He rips off her panties with his metal hand, he runs a metal finger up and down her wet folds. She gasps at the cool sensation. She reaches down and lined him up with her entrance, then starts sinking down on his cock. They both moans at the sensation of being connected. “Oh… doll. You’re so tight.” He groans, and thrusts up into her. Her mouth hangs open and her eyes closed in pleasure. Y/n composes herself then starts moving her hips up and down. Bucky’s hands clamp down on her hip as she rides him slow and hard. They are so lost in each other, that they don’t hear the door open until a voice makes them freeze.

“Hey, Y/n/n. I was wondering-” Steve starts to say, as he walks through Y/n’s door. The scene in front of him makes him freeze in place. His little sister on top of a man, he couldn’t see who it is but he knows they’re having sex. He quickly runs out and closes the door behind him.

As the door closes, Y/n and Bucky sit there for a minute with his cock still in her. She quickly comes back to reality, and she jumps off of him. She grabs her panties and slips them on then her shorts, as Bucky pulls on his boxers and shirt. She puts her hoodie back on and he puts on his sweatpants. Y/n paces the room as Bucky sits on the edge of the bed.

“Did Steve just walk in on us…” Y/n trails off, as she runs a hand through her Y/h/c hair.

“Yeah…” Bucky trails off, and slowly nods.

“Oh my god. He’s gonna kill you, then lock me away forever.” She groans, and covers her face with her hands. Bucky stands up and takes her hands into his.

“It’ll be fine. He’s a reasonable guy.” Bucky states, looking into her eyes.

“He punched that one guy who smacked my ass.” Y/n says.

“That guy was an ass.”

“He was my boyfriend.” She scoffs, and Bucky chuckles and kisses her on the forehead. “I’ll go up there first. He won’t touch me. You on the other hand, if he sees you, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.” She states, and he nods.

“Alright. Just tell FRIDAY to send me up there. When you’re ready.” He explains.

“Okay.” She smiles, and he kisses her, before she leaves out the room.

Y/n takes the lift down to the main floor. She quietly steps out of the lift. She tiptoes down the hall on bare feet. She walks around the corner and sees Steve leaning on the counter with a beer in hand. She walks closer but stays a few feet away.

“Hey, Stevie.” Y/n says, and Steve looks up and spots her.

“Y/n.” He nods, and takes a sip of his beer.

“Can we talk?” She questions, and takes a seat on the barstool in front of the counter.

“About what?” He asks, still not meeting her eyes.

“You know what.”

“Who is he?” Steve questions, and Y/n’s eyes widen when she realizes he didn’t know.

“You didn’t see his face?”

“No. Why?” He asks, and finally looks at her. “Who is it, Y/n?”

“Before I tell you. You have to promise not to go after him.” Y/n says calmly.

“Okay. I promise.” Steve nods, and she takes a deep breath.

“It’s Bucky.” She says, and she watches Steve’s face waiting for something.

“I’m gonna kill him!” He exclaims, and runs towards the lift. She runs after him, and grabs him by the back of his shirt and drags him back to the lounge. She throws him on the couch.

“Steven Grant Rogers! You need to calm down right now! I am an adult! I’m not some little kid who needs to be protected from boys!” She exclaims, and he looks a bit taken back by her outburst.

“Y/n-” He starts to say, but she cuts him off.

“I am not done! Bucky is the best thing that has happened to me! You may think that our relationship is just sex! But it’s not! It’s so much more than that! I love him! I have been in love with him since the minute my eyes landed on him!” She exclaims, and then a voice behind her makes her freeze.

“You love me?” Bucky asks from behind her, and she freezes.

“You heard that?” Y/n questions, turning around slowly. Bucky stands a few feet away.

“Yeah. And just so you know I love you too.” He says, and a smile creeps across her face. She runs and hugs him. Steve stands up and clears his throat. The couple pulls away and faces Steve.

“If you two are happy. Then… I guess that’s fine with me.” Steve says, and Y/n hugs her brother, and pulls back with a bigger smile on her face.

“Thank you, Stevie.” She says, and Steve nods then turns to Bucky.

“You hurt her. I’ll kill you.” Steve threatens Bucky, and the brunette puts his hands up.

“Duly noted.” Bucky nods, and Steve shakes hands with him. Then walks down the hall.

“Next time, lock your door!” Steve yells, from down the hall. The couple hear the lift doors close, then Y/n jumps onto Bucky and kisses him passionately. He catches her by the backs of her thighs. She pulls back and runs her hands through his long locks.

“I love you, James.” Y/n whispers, and he smiles and leans into her touch.

“I love you, Y/n.” Bucky whispers, and leans back up to kiss her. “Should we finish what we started?” He questions, and she nods and he walks towards the lift, with her still on him.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barns fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bellas600smutchallenge

[buckysdolls]

Saviour

My first Loki fic!!

Summary- AU- Loki survives Thanos’ snap and decides to stay on Earth to help defeat Thanos. During the final battle Loki comes to your rescue.

Warning- Mentions of Guns and Knives.

Though many of the team disliked Loki, which was a fair conclusion, you found him surprisingly funny and utterly charming from the first time you’d met him. You were mesmerized my his devilishly handsome good looks and impeccable one liners that would make you chuckle under your breath. He’d always appreciate your reaction and every time he was around on earth his endless teasing and flirting had you weak at the knees. Him being the God of Mischief totally enticed you, his adventures always sounded exciting and though you weren’t impressed with his attempts to take over the human race, multiple times… you were impressed with his decision to stay and fight, becoming an Avenger to save the earth. Having failed to kill Thanos before decapitating him, Thor had a breakdown and disappeared. Loki made the decision to stay with you and Nat at the compound to try and find a way to fix Thor and the mess Thanos had created. This wasn’t a hard decision for Loki, he wanted to be around you, he was utterly drawn to you and he’d known it from the moment he first saw you in the corner of a room trying to hide your snigger after he’d said something. He remembered your eyes meeting from across the room, he remembered how you coughed your chuckle away upon meeting his gaze and lowering your head feeling shy at his attention. You were able to teach him a few things as your relationship blossomed over time. A bit of humility and compassion but he never failed to provide his usual mischievous and sarcastic nature to any situation. Even though it took him almost five years to accept his feelings were more that just an attraction or a phase, you both enjoyed being a couple and having each other for company. You felt awful finding Loki considering the circumstances, as many people had lost their loved ones, but Loki would often tell you not to bother about other people’s thoughts and to enjoy the happiness.

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

You and Loki both looked at each other from across the room, eyes wide puzzled with confusion as the God of Thunder strolled into the compound. This wasn’t the God of Thunder you had remembered; his hair was in knotty and tussled. His infamous abs were now a beer belly that hung over the belt of his trousers.

“Seems as though my brother really let himself go” Loki had made his way over to you and whispered in your ear. You tutted and rolled your eyes as you could hear the quiet snigger that escaped from his lips in your ear. Thor’s eyes landed on the pair of you, he was clearly tipsy as he stumbled over.

“Loki! Y/N!” Thor held his arms ready to engulf you in a big hug as you walked forwards to meet him. You face scrunched up as a foul smell filled your nostrils as Thor smothered you in a big hug, tossing you about in his arms.

“Y/N! It’s wonderful to see you. Stunning as usual!” Thor continued to hug you; his head now buried in the crook of your neck. You felt an arm snake around you waist and pulling you away from the hug. Though it was nice to see Thor you were so pleased to feel Loki pulling you into his side as his hand settled on you hips. You turned your head to see Loki giving Thor a death stare, he clearly didn’t appreciate Thor’s attempt to be charming towards you. Feeling the need to reassure Loki you leaned in planting a small kiss on his cheek letting your free hand settle on his right cheek. You watched as his face transformed to his smug smile he usually gave whenever he felt pleased with himself, you turned your head back to see Thor stood there, his mouth in an ‘O’ shape and his sunglasses tipped on the bridge of his nose.

“Ooooh… You two are a… thing now are you?” Thor expressed a look of shock wiggling his finger between you and Loki. You watched on as he downed the rest of his beer, his eyes peering from the side as his sight never left the pair of you. He threw the empty can on the floor and quicky burst into laughter.

“That’s great!” Thor’s pulled the pair of you into one of his welcoming hugs. You and Loki managed to steal a glance at each other as your faces were squished against the pecs of Thor slowly suffocating into his chubbiness. You could tell Loki was far from impressed, his lips straight and his eyes glaring into your soul in utter annoyane. You gave him a big sarcastic smile knowing it would annoy him. You mouthed to Loki ‘smile’ as you cuddled into Thor to tease him.

“I’m so pleased Y/N that Loki finally told you he loves you. He’d only go on and on about you when I would see him” Thor squished you both harder continuing to embrace you both. Finding Thor’s comment hilarious you met Loki’s eyes, raising, and wiggling your eyebrows as you thinned your lips inwards to hide your smile. Loki closed his eyes as he rolled them.

“Let go brother!”

Letting you both go Loki quicky walked away with a huff as you and Thor exchanged side glances both finding Loki’s reaction hilarious.

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

“I could really use some help over here” You yelled out over the communication system as the oncoming Outriders ganging up on you was becoming overwhelming. A soon as you’d shoot one more of them would appear not leaving you enough time to either reload or pull out your knives. You found yourself circled by them and being pushed to the ground, these monsters looked ghastly and drooled everywhere making you gag.

“I got you darling”

You recognised Loki’s sweet voice, oddly sounding sadistic as he was clearly enjoying the rush of brutally slaughtering a bunch of aliens. You saw multiple knives being skilfully thrown slashing through the Outriders as they fell dead, crushing you.

“These things are gross!” You called out in disgust before seeing Loki standing before you kicking the Outriders off you. You couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully handsome he looked, towering above you. He wore his signature smirk, with his pearly white teeth flashing, his striking blue eyes graced yours.

“You still look compelling to me darling” Loki smirked as he reached his hand out to you. You bit your lip, letting the corner of your lips turn up into a smile as you reached your feet. You and Loki stared deeply into each other’s eyes, completely forgetting you were in the middle of a world-ending battle. Loki threw a few knives at oncoming Outriders never letting his gaze leave yours, he expertly would catch them without looking. You couldn’t take the suspense of looking into his eyes anymore, your lust to jump on Loki was too much. You immediately took to your tiptoe and crashed your lips on to his, he didn’t resist he only pulled you closer to him so he could feel you against him. You felt the bulge from under Loki’s robes throb making you moan into the kiss. Letting his lips fit into yours, his tongue swiped and bit at your bottom lip to allow him in. He smacked his hands to your face clutching onto your cheeks, your hair wrapped in between his fingers as the kiss deepened becoming quicker and harder. You found your hands dancing in his hair pulling on strands as the kiss became needier and intense. A flash of lightening waved past you causing you both to break away breathlessly, your heads leaning on one another to look out the corner of your eyes to see the flash of lightning hit a heard of Outriders that were heading for you and Loki. You both looked to the other side of you to see Thor stood there, he wore a huge grin having just witnessed you and Loki.

“You have time to flirt later brother.” Thor walked past you both as Stormbreaker flew back into his hand. Thor winked with a quick smirk before Loki nodded at Thor as a sigh of respect before watching him fly off. You and Loki turned back-to-back to fend off many more Outriders, skilfully swapping between each other’s knives and guns. Your heavy breathing and adrenaline slowed down as the chaos around you dwindled, the sound of guns popping, and the shouting had gone. Thanos’ team was disappearing in front of you just as your team had done five years ago. The fight was over. Yours and Loki’s backs bumped into each other quickly turning around to meet each other.

“That was hot” Loki expressed cocking his head to the side with a grin.

“You found fighting a bunch of alien doggos hot?” You furrowed your eyebrows whilst trying to catch your breath, thinking how fucked up was Loki really?

“Not that Y/N. The kiss?”

“Ooooo” You nodded your head slowly letting a smile creep on your lips as you thought about it.

“Yeah that was pretty hot!” You sniggered allowing you body to flop into Loki, him catching you in his arms. Your body pressed into him for a comforting hug, he could tell how tired you were, so he stroked your hair tenderly to soothe you. You hummed noises insinuating you were enjoying the touch of Loki’s affections as his hug consumed you. Loki felt calm as he felt your arms wrap around his waist, bringing him down from the hype of the fight.  Though he would find it hard to express… he was thankful to know you survived the battle and would be able to stand by his side forever.  

#loki #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki oneshot #tom hiddleston #the avengers #marvel universe #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #avengers endgame #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson fanfiction

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (1)

Chapter One- A post-Blip world

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Post-Blip, you find yourself more alone than ever as old friends are forever gone. You and Bucky struggle with finding life's purpose while trying to move on.

Warnings: Angst. A lot of guilt and self-blaming. Spoiler for ep 1 if you haven't seen it!

Word count: 2.4k

Notes: Here's the first chapter of the series! Check out the prologue if you have not done so! It gives you an insight into the OC's background and history with Bucky before TFATWS.

Hope you enjoy this read!

Opening up a tag list for the first time since I have gotten a request! Message or comment to let me know!

Leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 🥰

Previous: Prologue | Next: Chapter Two |

-------------------------//---------------------------

Present-day

Bucky felt his heart stopped for a moment when he realised what he was about to do to the terrified man from his dreams. Before he could imagine the next scene, his eyes flew wide open and he immediately sat up.

Assessing his surroundings to see that the television was still on, he realised he was home and have woken up from a nightmare. Even though Hydra’s brainwashing has been removed, the memories from his dark past continued to plague him.

The summer blanket you got for him pooled around his waist, his right hand reached out to give it a soft squeeze. The soft texture of the fabric comforted him emotionally as he sat on the cold hard floor. As he regained steady breathing, he looked around to see that it was still the early hours of the night.

He reached out for his flip phone- the one you couldn’t believe he insisted to buy over a regular smartphone. Pressing the buttons, he went to his inbox to see an unread message from you. Bucky contemplated opening it but decided to continue when he decided he wanted to hear from you.

Ever since the blip occurred, the days and weeks seemed to be a blur. Sooner than he realised, six months had just passed like that.

When Steve decided to go back to the past for good, all three of you including Sam were at a sudden loss. Bucky was disappointed but not surprised at Steve’s decision. Sam wanted the best for Steve and showed his support.

However, you were the most affected out of the group. He knew that despite putting a brave front, you were struggling with the loss of your friends in a short span of time. After all, you had spent a good amount of time with the Avengers and had a developed a close relationship with most of the team.

Bucky remembered how you immediately slumped to the floor when you heard the news about Natasha. You were at a loss of words before you started to break down when Steve went to comfort you. You always regarded Natasha as an older sister so her death hit you hard.

He recalled how you held back your tears at Tony’s funeral as you did not want to further bring down the atmosphere when Pepper and Morgan were there. He remembered how Tony was like an annoying but endearing older brother.

When Steve was disappeared from his spot, you didn’t think much of it thinking he would return in a matter of seconds after returning the stones. However, when all three of you looked to see an ageing Steve, you were the first to run up to him. Despite the astonishing expression that painted your face, you reached out to hold Steve’s hands to check if he was real.

Steve’s decision to pass Sam the shield was no surprise to Bucky. Even though Bucky found Sam irritating at times, Bucky knew he was a good man.

While you chose to accept Steve’s choice, it started to sink into your mind that the people once closest to you were gone or getting further. Bucky remembered how you were reluctant to let Steve walk away and Steve let you hold onto him longer.

You and Bucky decided to not let each other be alone that night. You two figured that at least you had each other and you wanted to cherish that.

-------------------—---//----------------------------

Moving forward, Sam had decided to find work with the U.S air force. Sam checked in on Bucky from time to time but Bucky contemplated to respond. After being pardoned for his past, Bucky found himself compensated but he still felt like a prisoner.

He was required to attend court-mandated therapy sessions to make sure he was doing well. You know that it was just a way for the government to have him under surveillance and in check.

He might be the oldest prisoner of war but he was still a super soldier and one with a vibranium arm. Bucky knew he was still deemed as dangerous in their eyes.

When you and Bucky discussed how to move forward, he confided that he wanted to make amends and you showed your support. When he asked about you, you seemed hesitant and a little lost for an answer.

The Avengers are gone. There was no more S.H.I.E.L.D.

Who were you now? What are you fighting for? What is going to be your purpose moving forward? These were all the questions swimming in your head.

You were reluctant to tell Bucky yet but a government official had paid you a visit while you were waiting for Bucky to finish his therapy session.

You were offered a position in a task force to maintain global security in light of a post-blip world. Given your abilities, you were viewed as an invaluable asset. However, you knew better than to take their words for it.

Revealing your hesitance, the official took a harder approach and laid out the truth. You were viewed as a potential threat if you were to not co-operate with the government. You are an unsupervised enhanced individual that is roaming freely. They do not want to allow that in the event that you were to do anything out of your own jurisdiction.

It was the Sokovia Accords all over again, you thought. The official added that you no longer had the Avengers team to fall back on. His words only added to the ache in your heart as you were reminded of your lost friends.

Additionally, he let off that Wanda had been involved in an event that caused the government to review their management of enhanced individuals in the country. Wanda was out of their reach but you were still around. They knew that you have been sticking by Bucky and thus decided to come for you.

Remembering Steve's words from the times of the civil war between the Avengers, you were not able to let yourself trust any words that the official said.

You didn’t want to let yourself be controlled especially by the government whom you knew had hidden agendas that they would not reveal to you. Their words of praises of how you would be a great addition made you felt like you would be nothing more than a tool in their master plans.

“What if I refuse?” You spoke to the official. The official's eyes hardened and his jaw clenched.

“Then Ms L/N, we will have to view you as a threat to national and global security.” You scoffed at his words when you stared dead into his eyes.

“You forgot that I was one of the many to help fight Thanos and brought the world back. This is how you decided to treat me after giving my service to this country? To this world?” You shot back in distaste.

You turned your back on the guy and walked off without giving him a chance to answer.

--------------------------//--------------------------

Hey Buck, I managed to find Wanda and decided to accompany her for a bit. She needs someone now.

I will let you know when I am back.

Don’t miss me too much ok! ;)

Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face at your last sentence. He missed you but he knew that you had things to attend to. He understood how much you valued your remaining friends. Wanda, being one of them.

-----------------—-----//---------------------———

Bucky sighed when he realised that he was not going to get away easy with today’s therapy session. Dr Raynor was really trying to push his buttons and even took out her darn notebook again.

That ticked Bucky off the most and he reluctantly gave in. He began to share about how he crossed another name on his list of amends. Dr Raynor then gave her opinion about how even making amends wasn’t able to help with his nightmares.

Bucky continued to deny that he had any at all but he knew Dr Raynor was not convinced. Glimpsing down briefly with an unconvinced look, Dr Raynor looked back up to Bucky.

“Look. One day, you’re gonna have to open up and understand that some people really do want to help you and that they can be trusted.”

“I trust people.” Not all but maybe just one. Only one person came to his immediate thought.

“Yeah, give me your phone.” Dr Raynor put aside her notebook before reaching over to take Bucky’s phone from him. As she searched up his contact list, she remarked that there wasn’t even ten numbers in it.

“Oh, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships.” She spoke before noting that she was the only person Bucky called all week and how sad it was.

Dr Raynor was going to continue before she stopped herself. She opened up the chat with your name and read your last message to Bucky.

“What about Y/N?”

“What about her?” Bucky retorted.

“Seems like she’s someone you are close to?” Dr Raynor tried to imply something.

“She’s a friend,” Bucky answered firmly. Dr Raynor gave Bucky a glance before probing further. “I’ve seen her around before when she accompanied you at the beginning of your session. She seems nice.”

“She is,” Bucky answered curtly once more before deciding to shoot back, knowing his therapist was trying to probe more than he was willing to share. “What are you insinuating, doc?”

“Nothing. I am glad you at least have one friend. But you need to make more connections with other people.” Dr Raynor tried explaining. Bucky drifted off in his thoughts for a moment, thinking about how he didn’t need more people. He was fine with just you but he didn’t want to let on more than he wanted to.

He didn’t feel the need to explain about his relationship with you when you knew you two were solid. Bucky sighed internally when his therapist asked him what he wanted. Bucky thought of the calm and peace he had in Wakanda, his mind replaying the moments of you and him living a carefree life on the farm.

When he was told that he was finally free, he questioned “to do what?”. Was he ever truly free? The memories from his past, the long list of amends he had in his notebook. Could he ever truly be free from the guilt that constantly plagues him?

As Bucky made his way back to his apartment, he spotted his neighbour, Yori arguing with another neighbour, Unique over the trash. He reassured that he could take care of Yori to this Unique fellow before catching up with the grumbling old man in the alley.

Bucky convinced him that he would give a treat at their usual sushi place and that managed to pacify Yori’s mood.

-------------—-----——//---------------------——

When they were at Izzy’s, Yori mentioned how no one made it past 90 years in the obituary of the newspaper. The familiar waitress came up to the two and remarked if they were feeling adventurous since they did not order the usual.

Giving him a slight smirk, Yori suggested that Bucky should ask her out. Bucky immediately shook his head and gave Yori a bewildered look like he was crazy.

“Why not? Are you seeing that pretty friend of yours that always come to visit?” Bucky knew Yori was referring to you and immediately tried to refute the notion.

“Y/N’s just a friend.”

“Could have convinced me otherwise. You two seem really close.” Yori scoffed at Bucky’s statement.

“Such a pity. If I were 50 years younger, I would have made a move already.” Bucky chuckled at how Yori, despite being a grumpy senior most of the times, actually tried to make a witty joke. He silently agreed that you were indeed a catch and how it was crazy you have not been with anyone.

Well then again, you have always been with him all this while. Of course, as a friend, Bucky tried to convince himself that there was no way he would have a shot with you. You were too good for him and you definitely deserved someone better.

Even though he tried to convince himself, Bucky does not know what to do if you had managed to find someone and will eventually leave him to be on his own. He shook himself out of his inner thoughts and before he knew it, Yori spoke to the waitress.

“He would like to take you out on a date.” Bucky’s eyes shot wide open when he realised what Yori had actually done. Bucky tried to apologise on behalf of Yori for his bizarre behaviour but the waitress did not seem to mind. In fact, she was game and agreed.

After she went off to attend to other customers, Bucky shook his head and couldn’t believe Yori actually became his wingman. Yori then suddenly went silent for a moment. Bucky was nervous before hearing how Yori spoke of his beloved son who had passed away due to an incident.

Bucky listened intently with the guilt gnawing in his gut, his heart heavy with all of the weight of the world.

------———------------//------------------------—

Bucky convinced himself to go on the date with Leah. He decided to give himself the chance to make more connections as Dr Raynor had advised. The date was going well in fact. Leah seemed like a great gal but Bucky felt himself holding back.

There were just too many secrets he was holding in. What would she think if she knew who he really was? Would she even want to be in the same room as him then?

While he tried the whole online dating thing (much to your masked disappointment and amusement), he was not convinced if he could really make a romantic connection with anyone. Who was he kidding? Could he ever?

When the topic of conversation turned to Yori, the overwhelming sensation started to descend onto Bucky’s consciousness. Before he could stop, he immediately tapped out. Giving a pathetic excuse, Bucky rushed back to Yori’s apartment and had the urge to tell him the truth.

However, when he saw the altar that Yori had dedicated to his son, Bucky withdrew himself. He did not want to lose a friend in Yori even though he was dying to say the truth.

Bucky pretended to come up with an excuse to a confused Yori by paying his half of lunch before stalking off. When Bucky returned to his place, he opened up his notebook and stared at Yori’s name.

What was he to do?

A ring on his phone averted his intense thoughts and he reached for his phone.

Hey Buck, I am done on my side.

Would be back soon!

Can’t wait to see you again, missed you!

Bucky clutched his phone tighter and brought it close to his heart. He started counting down the hours till he could welcome you back in his arms.

-------------———----//------------------------——

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #thefalconandthewintersoldier #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #angstsfordays #beautiful pain

[babykimmin]

One Last Time

A/N: I never intended on posting this, I wrote this after watching the last episode of Supernatural. I felt so many feelings watching it and writing this. I didn't mention a name on the mother because you guys can imagine whoever. *wink wink* maybe you can find the little hint I put in there on who I thought of as her mother.

Daughter!Reader

___

Dean held in the sob he felt rising through his chest almost making him forget the pain his body was going through. Sam moved away when he saw Dean reach towards the brunette watching her father with teared-filled eyes. He watched Dean shake his head at her, "No trying to save me, the moment I get off this I know I will be gone, I can feel myself slipping…come here let me look at you one last time, my baby." the girl moved slowly towards her father feeling her words get stuck in her throat, she felt her grace reaching out towards her sire she could feel it too. She could feel him slipping and there was nothing she could do, again.

"Baby, you were my greatest wish, a wish I thought would never come true but here you are. I'm sorry I have to leave you, but I know you will be fine because I raised you. I'm your father, you are strong, you are brave, you are.." Dean held in a breathe as he held his abdomen, "everything I'm not. I love you so much, never forget that.." Dean held her head towards his. She felt his last breath on her and she held his face in her hands.

"Daddy." She could feel Sam's hands on her trying to move her away and she held on harder, "No Daddy come back. I can't live without you. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't…I-" A sob ripped its way out of her mouth, Sam stopped his movements at the devastating sound coming out of the young girl, she had just lost both her parents in a matter of days. He had no words. The scream that left her mouth the next second made Sam's tears shed. Watching her clutch Dean's jacket, he had never seen such devastation in someone so young. Her sobs seemed to be all feelings piled up from everything that had gone on.

She and Jack never deserved this life. They were children in the bodies of teenagers. They both had never gotten a break. It made sense why Dean didn't want children, he wanted to go down swinging but leaving a child behind, was never in Dean's plans. Now Sam can see why.

All she could feel was pain, pain spreading everywhere as she held her father's lifeless body up, She could feel her lungs not getting enough air and she couldn't hear anything. It felt like time had stopped to witness her fall. Her grace reached out but never connected it made the pain worsen, she would never feel that warmth ever again. It was like being hugged by his soul and now there was nothing just cold.

How could she live on like this, her father was wrong. She's not strong, she's not brave. Her world was falling around her faster than she could repair it and she was giving up. What was the point? Her mother died after exchanging his life, her brother became god and left them, now her dad is dead. She couldn't see her life without them. This felt wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to go home after and make hot chocolate. They were supposed to be sitting at the dining table laughing at Sam eating his rabbit food.

Sam.

She turned towards Sam who had tears streaming down his face.

Uncle Sam.

"Uncle Sam."

She didn't feel the words coming out of her mouth, they felt like they were said by someone else. They stared at each other for a few seconds. The world wasn't done with them yet and it crushed her. Sam had gone through so much more before she was even born. Gone through so much more with her parents and now they were gone. Everyone was gone but them.

"I-"

"I can't, I can't do this uncle Sam." Her hand reached out towards him, wanting to feel the warmth, the warmth of a living person. When their hands touched she could feel her grace trying to reach out, reaching out towards her only family member that was left but the only family member her grace couldn't touch.

"We can do it together Rosie. Dean was right, you are strong, you are brave and that's how I know you can get through this. I will be with you every step of the way, you will never be alone."

But she felt alone.

Sam was her uncle not her father nor her mother, her grace couldn't connect, her grace would never be complete. She didn't like it, she had never felt this way, this feeling of emptiness. She wanted her mom. She wanted her dad. She wanted to be wrapped in their arms and never leave. She would never get that back and she could feel herself not accepting it. Dean's forehead was cold against her, the warm breath gone. She took one last look at the man who sired her, the man she called dad.

The man who would wake her up with the best chocolate chip pancakes, the man who loved her mother, the man who would tell her he loved her every night, the man who would call her every hour if they were apart, the man who would always talk about how long he waited for her, the man who would hold her hand when she was scared, this man that knew 20 different ways to make mac and cheese, the man who saved the world, the man who wanted a better world for her. The man who did everything for love.

"Daddy."

She brought her hands to cup his cheeks, she studied his face one last time. Just one last time. She couldn't bring herself to stop, just an hour ago she thought she had all the time in the world and now she doesn't have time.

His scent, she knew that in no time she would never smell this scent again, no matter how many shirts, jackets, or blankets were left, the scent would fade. She couldn't take the thought, the sob that left her made the ache grow almost like a stomach ache. She felt like she was dying from the emotional pain. She took a deep breath, she had to do this.

"You were good to me, take care of mom until I get there okay? I need you so bad dad, I need you to feel alive, I need mom. I can't do this." The tears streaming down her cheeks made her eyes burn and she closed them as she took a deep breath in again.

"But I will try, I have Uncle Sam."

~~~

The funeral for a hunter was finally done, Sam watched her put on the last of the wood around Dean. The only thing left was in Sam's hand. She stood by the wood clutching tightly the too-large jacket around her frame the scent she ached for surrounded in it. Her father was wrapped in a white blanket in the middle of the wood she and Sam had built for him. She desperately ached to touch his skin, to hug him, and feel arms wrap around her.

This ache was so familiar, the ache to touch her mother to have something. She never got that something. She never got to feel one last time, she never got one last look. The closure that was staring at her in the face with her dad was there but she didn’t grasp it. What closure? To accept that this was the end? This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

She wanted more time, what she had wasn't enough, the memories weren't enough. The memories with her mother weren't enough, how could they ever be. Whenever they were together that bond that was formed before she was even born made her want to stay close forever. It hurt that she didn't get it. It wasn't fair. Why her? What wrong did she do that she didn’t deserve her parents? Was it being born? Against heaven law her ass. She deserved to live just like any other angel and human. She was a product of love not hate.

"You are loved, we wanted you, we waited for you. I love you, we will protect you until our last breath because you are everything to us. Whenever you can't find your way remember to do things for love, remember you were made out of love not hate. I know you will do great things."

This ache in her chest she knew wouldn't go away, it never went away after her mother why would it with her father. Why would grief give her a break? She grazed her fingers along with the wood closest to her father and stepped back giving her uncle a look as he passed her the white rose in his palm. She clutched it close to her and watched Sam clutch the lighter almost hesitantly.

She grasped his arm, "We'll do it together uncle Sam, remember, we only have each other now." Sam gave her a teary smile and her eyes couldn't help but fill with tears at seeing her uncle look so devastated.

Sam nodded grasping her hand with his as they lit the lighter,

"Goodbye, Daddy."

"Goodbye, Dean."

A/N: sorry if it's not that good I wrote this while crying

#dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean deserves better #sam and dean #spn #destiel #jack #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #dean fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #daughter!reader #angst #death tw

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Welcome to the End

Summary: Y/N Winchester was a hunter like her brothers, following in their fathers footsteps. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

During a case in Georgia, you meet the Dixon brothers and after saving Daryl’s life against a Chupacabra, the two of you become close. But, when the zombie apocalypse starts, life as you know it changes forever.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language, blood, injuries, major character death (temporary death)

Chapter 6-

You awoke with a gasp, pain shooting through your head as you sat up.

For a moment, you had no idea where you were or what happened, but then it all came flooding back.

The zombies at the grocery store. The herd following you to the house, trapping you all inside. Sam hovering over you in panic. Dean and Cas standing across the room, both in tears.

'Why does this sound like a goodbye?'

'Because it is. I love you.'

Zombies bashing against the door.

"Don't do this, Cas'

'Goodbye, Dean.'

The zombies breaking through the front door and Cas leading them away... Cas!

"Whoa. Whoa. Y/N, calm down. It's okay." Sam's voice said, as you sat up in panic.

Your eyes frantically scanned your surroundings, but your head was spinning too much and you couldn't figure out where you were.

"Dean, pull over." Sam instructed and you only just realised that you were in the back of the Impala. How'd you get back to the car?

You weren't sure what was going on until the car stopped and you came to the sudden conclusion that you were going to be sick.

"Y/N are-" Someone started to say, but you didn't hear the rest of it before you opened the back door and practically fell out the car.

Not a second later you were throwing up on the side of the road which just made the pain in your head hurt even more, but as your stomach contracted violently and bile rose in your throat, you weren't really thinking about that at the moment.

Suddenly, a gentle hand was on your back and your hair was being pulled away from your face as you threw up again.

"You're okay. You'll be okay." Sam's gentle voice whispered from beside you, his hand rubbing soothing circles over your back.

It felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes before you finally stopped throwing up as you sat there on your hands and knees, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, but you didn't try and get up, not trusting your body in the slightest.

"I think you have a concussion. Just stay there for a bit." Sam suddenly said and you nodded slightly, collapsing back down and sitting on the ground as you leant your back against the side of the Impala.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to will the pain in your head to disappear before your mind suddenly clicked and your eyes shot open.

"Where's Cas?" You questioned, blinking away the stars in your eyes.

You looked over at Sam who was sitting beside you, his face dropping at the mention of the angel and you shook your head. No, Cas had to be okay. It was Cas! He had to be okay.

You heard the sound of a car door closing and you looked to the right to find Dean walking around the Impala towards you, with a bottle of water in his hands.

Dean didn't say anything as he knelt down in front of you, handing you the bottle of water which you grabbed with shaky hands and took a small sip before holding it back towards him.

"Dean...?" You started to ask, but trailed off when Dean's sad, red eyes eyes locked with yours and your heart dropped.

Dean was heartbroken. You hadn't seen that look in your brothers eyes since... well since Lucifer killed Cas a few years ago. You didn't like thinking about those days. You had never seen your brother like that before. He was lost, grieving and broken... it hurt you seeing him suffering like that and now it was like you had gone back in time to that day.

The look in his eyes was the same one he had when Lucifer killed Cas a few years ago, when he collapsed to the ground beside the angels dead body. It was that same sad, empty look. The look of a man who had just lost the love of his life.

Suddenly, Dean took the water bottle from your hands and stood up, taking a few steps away as he stared down at the ground and spoke.

"He saved me. He saved us. The zombies broke through the door and he sacrificed himself... he lead them away so we could escape." Dean started to explain, his voice hoarse as he turned away, shaking his head. "Cas, is gone." He whispered, his voice breaking and you didn't even realise you were crying until Sam wrapped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his chest as you broke down.

You cried until Sam's shoulder was drenched, but he didn't seem to care as he held you tightly until you had no more tears left.

"Guys, we need to go. Zombies up ahead." Dean's voice suddenly called out, his voice still hoarse as you lifted your head from Sam's shoulder to find Dean walking back over to the two of you as he held his hand out to you.

You took your big brothers hand, letting him help you to your feet which nearly gave way from the sudden weight, but Dean kept you steady as he grabbed your shoulder with his other hand, eyeing you worriedly.

"I think she has a concussion." Sam informed from behind you and Dean just nodded, his hand cupping the side of your face as he stared at the large gash on your forehead.

"Dean... I'm so sorry." You murmured, your voice shaky as you stared at him, but Dean shook his head and pulled you into his chest. "I'm sorry." You repeated, unable to stop the sob from wracking your body as he hugged you tightly.

"I'm sorry too." He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

"Okay, we need to go. Like right now." Sam suddenly said causing you and Dean to pull away as the sound of zombies growling reached your ears. Sam was right, you needed to leave.

Without saying anything else, Dean helped you back inside the Impala, your head still spinning and you realised that Sam was right again, you defiantly had some kind of concussion.

It didn't take long before you were cruising back down the road, away from where the zombies were. You all sat in silence, Dean driving while Sam silently sat shotgun, both of them constantly glancing at your through the revision mirror making sure you hadn't passed out again.

"What now?" Sam asked, his voice gentle, knowing that this was going to be a difficult conversation.

Dean didn't say anything, he didn't even acknowledge the question as he kept his eyes on the road and even from the backseat you could see his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel.

Dean was closing himself off. He was getting emotionless, he was putting up that wall he always puts up when he was hurting, like the first time Cas died and the second time... Dean was shutting himself off and you couldn't let him do that. He had done it when Lucifer killed Cas, he had pushed you and Sam away, he had closed off completely, hell, he even killed himself too. You couldn't let that happen again... but the only way to get him out of it was to bring Cas back, when Cas came back all those years ago, it was like Dean suddenly turned back into his old self within a few seconds... but you couldn't bring Cas back... wait could you?

Castiel has died many times before. Hell, all three of you had died before and you had always managed to bring each other back, maybe there was a way to bring Cas back again... it was worth a shot.

"We should find a place to stay the night and figure out how to bring Cas back." You said, but Dean instantly shook his head.

"He's not coming back-" Dean started to say, his voice stern as he stared at the road ahead of him.

"You don't know that." You tried to say, but Dean just shook his head again.

"He's gone!" Dean shouted, glaring at you through the revision mirror causing you to flinch at his sudden raised voice. "Cas, isn't coming back. Sam and I tried while you were unconscious... he's gone."

You glanced over at Sam with a questioning look and he simply nodded indicating that Dean was telling the truth. Wait, how long were you unconscious for then? You thought to yourself, but you just shook your head, that wasn't important right now.

You didn't say anything for a moment, hating the fact that tears were starting to rise in your eyes again.

"Maybe-" You began to say before Dean cut you off.

"No." He stated sternly, glaring at you through the revision mirror, but you knew he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at himself... you knew he secretly blamed himself for this, hell, you blamed yourself for it too... kind of a Winchester family trait.

You were all silent for a moment before Dean continued.

"I couldn't even say it back." He said, his voice suddenly so soft, so vulnerable that you thought you had imagined it until Sam spoke up.

"Say what back?" He asked.

"He told me he loved me... I couldn't even say it back, Sammy, but I do. God, I do." Dean whispered and you could see his eyes turning watery through the revision mirror, breaking your heart even more.

"He knows, Dean. He knows." You replied softly, leaning forward and placing your hand on his shoulder, but making sure you didn't touch Cas' bloodied hand print that was stained on his jacket.

Dean didn't say anything in response as a silent tear trickled down his cheek and rested his free hand over your own that was still on his shoulder.

None of you really said anything after that. There was nothing you could say. Cas was dead... what could any of you say to make that better? He was gone and he wasn't coming back.

You had known Cas for over 12 years, he had been there for you through thick and thin and now he was just gone... you didn't even get to say goodbye.

-

It took a few days before you reached the small redneck town in the middle of Georgia that the Dixon brothers called home.

It was like a ghost town with a few lonely zombies here and there, but other than that, there was no signs of life anywhere.

Dean slowly drove the Impala down the Main Street, all of you looking around in awe at just how bare the town was. Usually, there were usually signs of other survivors in towns, but there was nothing. Hell, usually there were a lot more zombies, but you had only seen a few so far.

It didn't take long before Dean pulled into the trailer park, but before he even stopped the car in front of the Dixons trailer you knew they weren't there.

Daryl's truck and Merle's motorcycle were nowhere to be seen. They had left and by the look of how rundown the trailer was and the amount of weeds growing around it, they had left near the beginning of it all.

"Y/N, wait." Sam called out and you didn't even realise you had climbed out the car until he said it, but you didn't stop.

You head was still thumping, but it was now a bearable pain, so you just ignored it as you staggered towards the entrance of their trailer, hating how weak your legs felt.

"Let her go, Sammy." You heard Dean say softly from behind you as your brothers no doubt got out the car as well.

You climbed up the three crooked steps to the front door and hesitated slightly before you pushed it open. The lock on the door snapped instantly with your strength as it flew open.

It was dark inside and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust as you stepped inside and took in your surroundings. Nothing had changed.

"Daryl? Merle?" You called out, stepping further into the trailer, but you knew it was pointless.

You couldn't hear them. Their vehicles were gone. They weren't here and hadn't been here for a long time.

You hated the fact that you could feel your body starting to shake as tears blurred your vision. You knew the chances of actually finding Daryl was close to zero, but it still hurt like hell now that you knew he wasn't here.

Slowly you walked towards the far end of the trailer and stopped in front of the two doors. The left one, Merle's bedroom and right, Daryl's. You froze for a second before you pushed the door opened, taking in the familiar scenery of Daryl's bedroom.

The same flannel patterned sheets were neatly tucked in on Daryl's mattress that was lying on the ground across the room. The same stack of hunting and fishing magazines stacked up in the corner. The same wooden cupboard up against the wall to your left, the door pushed open and clothes scattered over the floor and you knew when Daryl had left he had been in a rush.

You stepped into the room and picked up one of Daryl's flannels from the floor and bought it up to your face. You couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks because the flannel smelt exactly like him.

"Damnit, Dixon... where are you?" You whispered to yourself, hugging the flannel to your chest before a hand suddenly grabbed your shoulder.

In an instant you spun around, drawing your angel blade in sudden shock. You didn't even hear someone else come inside the trailer, but as soon as you turned around, you came face to face with Dean.

"It's just me, sis." Dean said softly, his hand still on your shoulder and you lowered your angel blade.

"I'm never going to see Daryl again, am I?" You asked, your voice barely above a whispered as you looked back down at the flannel in your hands.

Dean sighed, "I don't know."

You didn't say anything else except nod as silent tears continued to fall from your cheeks and Dean didn't try and say anything to make it better, because he knew he couldn't. He had lost Cas and now you had basically lost the man you loved as well.

With shaky hands, you tied the flannel shirt around your waist, sparing one last glance around Daryl's bedroom before you followed Dean out the trailer.

Sam was waiting by the front door, keeping watch, but the second you stepped outside he instantly pulled you into a tight up.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He whispered as you hugged him back, hating the fact that you couldn't stop yourself from crying. You were so god damn sick of crying.

"Let's get out of here." You muttered, pulling away from Sam as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

Your brothers just stared at you for a moment, unsure of what to do or say before you started walking back to the Impala and they both followed.

Within minutes you were back on the road, your head resting against the window as you stared at the 'Thanks for visiting' sign on the side of the road as you left the Dixons small town.

-

Then...

Careful, the poundage is cranked right up, it's gonna be hard to pull the string." Daryl warned watching as you rested your foot on the cocking stirrup of Daryl's crossbow before you grabbed the string and easily pulled it all the way up until it clicked into place.

"Okay or you're just freakishly strong and I don't know whether to be turned on or intimidated right now." Daryl commented causing you to snort as you titled your head up towards him.

"Part angel, remember?" You responded and Daryl rolled his eyes before handing you a bolt and you slipped it into place like Daryl had shown you earlier.

"So what am I aiming for?" You asked, glancing around the woods, unsure of what to use as target practice.

"See that can of beer on the ground over there?" Daryl asked pointing to the can that was about 20 metres in front of you and your jaw dropped.

"You want me to shoot that tiny can? Are you crazy?" You questioned, glancing over at him to find him grinning and you rolled your eyes before picking up the crossbow. "It's just like a rifle, it can't be that hard."

You pushed the butt of the crossbow into your shoulder and rested the side of your cheek against the stock, looking through the scoped sight.

You had used most guns before, handguns, shotguns, rifles, snipers even a grenade launcher, but never a crossbow.

Taking a deep breath in, you hovered the crosshairs of your sight over the centre of the beer can and as you slow exhaled, you squeezed the trigger.

You watched as the bolt flew through the air, missing the can by a mile to the left as it skidded across the leafy forest floor and you knew you were never finding that bolt again.

Suddenly, Daryl started to chuckle from beside you causing you to lower the crossbow as you raised your eyebrow at him.

"Oh, so you reckon you could make that shot?" You challenged, knowing Daryl wouldn't be able to say no.

"Easily." He responded and you grinned, handing him the weapon.

You stood back watching as Daryl reloaded the crossbow like it was second nature. Before you could even blink he had taken the shot and the bolt pierced straight through the middle of the can.

"Show off." You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief, but you weren't sure why you were even surprised by that.

Daryl went hunting all the time. He had been shooting that crossbow since he was a kid, of course he would be able to shoot something from 20 metres away, the beer was probably the size of a small rabbit anyway.

"Just 'cause I'm better than ya at it." He teased and you just scoffed shaking your head.

"Well who needs to use that crossbow when I can just do this?" You responded, raising your hand, using your powers as you lifted the can in the air.

You pulled the bolt out with your powers before you scrunched the tin can into a ball, letting it fall back to the ground while bringing the crossbow bolt back to you, landing in the palm of your hand.

"Now who's the show off?" Daryl commented, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you with an amused expression.

"Still you." You stated and Daryl scoffed as you handed him the bolt. "C'mon, let's go back to the trailer, I could do with some beer and pizza."

"Sounds good to me." Daryl responded, throwing his free arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as the two of you began walking back to the trailer park.

It didn't take long before you were back inside the Dixon's trailer, sitting on the couch curled up beside Daryl with a half eaten box of pizza beside you.

"I could get used to this." You commented softly, tilting your head up as Daryl looked down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face with his thumb before he leant down and kissed you.

You started to kiss him back when suddenly the front door to the trailer open followed by the sound of glass smashing on the ground.

You both jumped to your feet in an instant, Daryl reaching for his handgun that was on the table beside him before you spotted Merle standing in the doorway, his bottle of beer in pieces on the ground.

"Why the hell is the damn FBI here? 'N why the fuck were ya making out with her?" Merle questioned in a rather angry tone which puzzled you slightly because although he wasn't the nicest man when you first met him, you didn't expect that kind of reaction.

"Merle, relax-" Daryl started to say before his brother cut him off.

"Don't tell me to relax, little brother. She's a damn pig! An FBI pig for that matter!" He shouted, taking a step into trailer, but you didn't miss his small stumble and you quickly realised that he was drunk.

Daryl glanced over at you with a questioning look and you simply nodded, knowing what he was silently asking. He wanted to tell Merle the truth. Hell, the older Dixon was bound to find out sooner or later anyway.

"Y/N isn't FBI. She's a hunter... but not our kind of hunting." Daryl began to explain and Merle just frowned in confusion.

"The hell ya trying to say? I saw her badge, she's a fucking cop!"

"I'm not a cop. I'm not FBI. It was fake." You said, speaking up for the first time causing Merle to look away from his brother as he glared at you. "My brothers and I... we hunt the supernatural. Yes, the supernatural is real. Ghosts, werewolves, demons-"

"I know I'm drunk, but I ain't that fucking drunk to believe that shit." Merle stated sternly despite the slight slur of his words.

"She ain't lying. And she can prove it, bro. She's not a cop, she's part angel." Daryl added, glancing over at you and Merle opened his mouth about to argue and say something stupid.

You quickly took a step forward and flashed your eyes bright purple before you used your powers and lifted all the glass shards of his beer bottle on the floor and placed them on the kitchen bench.

"What the fuck are you?!" Merle shouted and you turned your attention back at the older brother just as he pulled out a handgun from behind his back, aiming it directly at you.

"MERLE! NO!" Daryl yelled, pulling you back behind him as he held his hands out to his brother to try and calm him down.

"Get the hell away from that thing little brother!" Merle ordered, but Daryl just shook his head.

"She's my girlfriend, she ain't gonna hurt us." Daryl tried to defend, but Merle wouldn't listen.

"She ain't human! Get the fuck off my property!" Merle shouted, looking past Daryl and directly at you.

"Merle!" Daryl yelled as his brother cocked the gun.

"Ya got three seconds to get the hell outta here before I put a bullet between your eyes." Merle threatened and for a moment nobody said anything before Daryl turned towards you with panicked eyes.

"Get outta here." He instructed, but you shook your head. "Y/N, go!" He shouted, turning back toward his brother.

"But, Daryl-" you started to say before he cut you off.

"Go!" He screamed and you could feel tears starting to rise in your eyes before you teleported out of there.

A moment later you were back in your bedroom in the bunker and you collapsed on top of your bed unable to stop yourself from crying.

You had just ruined everything. Daryl won't want anything to do with you now, you know how much his brother means to him. There's no way Daryl would want to see again.

You weren't sure how long you were crying for before there was a soft knock on your door.

"Hey, Y/N? You okay?" Sam's voice asked and you quickly wiped the tears from your face.

"I'm fine." You responded, but even you could hear the crack in your own voice, so you knew Sam did too.

"You better be decent because I'm coming in." He announced before the door handle turned and Sam stepped inside, his expression turning worried when he saw you curled up in the middle of your bed. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter." You mumbled, looking down you knees that you were hugging to your chest.

"Obviously it does matter. What happened?" He asked worriedly and you sighed. You knew Sam wouldn't just let this go, there was no point lying to him.

"You remember the Dixon brothers from that Chupacabra hunt back in Georgia? Well... I've been seeing Daryl Dixon." You admitted and Sam's eye widened slightly.

"Seeing? As in dating?" He asked and you nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Daryl won't want to see me again." You responded, still refusing to look at your brother.

"Why?" Sam asked in confusion.

"We told his brother about the supernatural and he flipped out. Drew his gun on me and Daryl yelled at me to leave... so here I am." You explained, hating the fact that could feel fresh tears rising in your eyes.

"And because of that you think he won't want to see you again?"

"Yes. I knew it wouldn't last, it's probably better off this way." You said, although you weren't sure if you were trying to tell Sam or convince yourself of it.

"What do you mean?" He hesitated asked.

"The people we love and care about always die. Mum, dad, Jess, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Lisa and Ben... should I continue?" You asked, your voice breaking at the end as you glanced up at your brothers who's face softened taking in the tears in your eyes.

"No, I get it." He responded as he walked over to you and sat down on the edge of your bed.

Neither of you said anything for a moment as you both sat there before Sam sighed and looked over at you.

"You really care about Daryl, don't you?"

"I-I... I think I'm in love with him and it scares the absolute shit out of me because I don't want him to get hurt... or worse." You admitted, lifting your head and looking over at Sam as a silent tear trickled down your face.

"Well, if you feel that way about him, don't you think it's worth it to at least try and make it work with him? You can't live your life worrying about the 'what if'." He said, but you just shook your head.

"It doesn't matter anyway. He won't want to see me after what just happened." You replied sadly causing Sam to frown.

Suddenly, he shifted on the bed until he was right beside you and pulled you into his chest, hugging you.

He didn't say anything, but he let you cry into him as he held you tightly. He didn't let go of you until your phone suddenly buzzed from your bedside table.

Slowly, Sam let you go as you wiped the tears from your eyes and he grabbed your phone and handed it to.

You turned the phone on and frowned realising that it was a text message from Daryl.

-Sorry about Merle. -I don't care what he thinks of you, he's an idiot because you're amazing.

You couldn't stop the smiling forming on your face as you read his message. Daryl still wanted to be with you, he didn't care what his brother thought.

"He still likes me." You announced, looking up from your phone to find Sam now smiling happily at you.

"Told you." He responded, grabbing your shoulder with a gentle squeeze before he stood up and started walking towards the door.

"Hey, Sammy?" You called out causing him to stop and turn back towards you.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Dean." He reassured with a small grin and you sighed with relief.

-

MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

-Gifs used are not mine. Credit to rightful owners.

#Daryl Dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #Norman Reedus #dean winchester #castiel #Sam Winchester #Destiel #supernatural #spn

[dashedwithromance]

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

-

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps.  I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.  

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.  

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.  

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

-

let me know if you wanted to be added to my KOTW tag list!

tags: @shadowturtlesstuff @otome-azarada @chococannolii @beccalovesbooksstuff @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere @caseyannblog @constantwriter85 @fleawithadegree @athousandsilversuns @emiliadicarlos @silversublime @watch-the-pen @sleeping-and-books @demirunner

#princewitch #kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #emilia di carlo #prince wrath #is this accurate almost certainly not #also i read kotw in september so i have no memory of the little things #wrath: a fucking softie #emilia: full of rage #pride: still in mourning #(dick: OUT)

[winchesterxxi]

Maybe Poe and Skywalker reader being married to each other. Their life together, struggles and everything in between

(force awakens to rise of Skywalker)

WARNINGS: Non-canon content for the sake of the request; Focuses more on the Reader x Poe relationship, so many plot points are left untouched (as in, Reader doesn’t know Kylo is her brother)

THE FORCE AWAKENS

You were stationed in Jakku with your dad and Chewie when a girl and a guy board onto the ship;

“Who the hell are you?” you ask, you and your dad with blasters pointed out to them.

They throw they’re hands up and from behind them rolls out BB8 and you immediately drop to your knees.

“BB! Oh my God, where is Poe? We lost his TIE signal two hours ago, we’ve been worried sick!”

“You know Poe Dameron?” Finn asks you, lowering his hands.

“I’m Y/N Skywalker, his wife.” you eye him, only now noticing he is wearing your husband’s jacket “W-Where is my husband?”

That’s when he gives you the news of the crash and you latch onto your dad, crying.

Days later, on Takodana you are under an attack by the First Order and just as you thought there was no hope left, a fleet of X-Wings come in and save you.

After the fleet landed, you went to meet you mom, knowing that she was the Commander behind this offence against the First Order.

“It’s not me you have to thank honey.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your husband’s the one behind it this time.”

“My...?”

She just nods your head and cups your cheek, stroking your teary eyes, knowing how you’ve been grieving, thinking that Poe had died

“Go find your husband.”

You run past her and your dad to the the landing site trying to spot Poe in the crowd, heart beating hard in your chest

“POE?” “POE!?” you scream is name, trying to find him.

Then

“Y/N?” you stop in your tracks and turn around, spotting your husband.

Your run to him faster than you’ve ever ran until you crash into him in a tight hug, crying.

“I thought you - I thought you had -” you sniff between the tears.

He cups the sides of your face “I know, but I’m here, honey. I’m sorry to worry you. You’d never get rid of me so easily!” He smiles into the crashing kiss.

He helps you blast the FO’s base's thermal oscillator after you witness Kylo killing your father, tears stinging your eyes as you charge ahead.

Afterwards, him being your shoulder to cry on as you mourn your loss.

THE LAST JEDI

Flying alongside him on the dreadnought attack;

“Y/N, FIRE NOW!”

You do as you’re instructed, your shot igniting the explosives that had been set inside the dreadnought making it light up like the 4th of July

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” he shouts over the intercom

When back at the ship, reunited with your mother, you’re the one that spots the Star Destroyer in the radar grabbing Finn’s forearm, alerting him to the map.

“We need to jump to lightspeed!” he states running to your mom, awaiting clearance to do so, hot-headed as always.

“Poe, we can’t do that! We only have enough resources for one jump and if we do so, they’ll just track us again and be without fuel.”

You eye your mother, looking for some help.

“Permission to jump on an X-Wing and blow something up?” he addresses your mom.

“Poe w-” you start

“Permission granted!” your mom agrees as Poe darts running

“MOM!” 

“Go get on one as well.” she comes forward and kisses your forehead “You’re a team now.”

Just as you and Poe are about to reach the X-Wings, him slightly ahead of you the FO manages to blast the platform, sending him flying against you as you both crash to the ground.

He his also next to you when you spot your mother floating in space after the attack and he grips your hand tightly.

You insist on pushing her to the medical wing but he stops you before you can do it

“Poe, I need to be with my mom please.” you grip his arms, sobbing.

He kisses your forehead

“I’ll go with her, you stay here please.” you nod, teary eyed at him “Finn, take care of her for me while I’m gone”

*FASTFORWARD TO HOLDO’S EVACUATION PLAN*

You believe her plan won’t work either so you lead the mutiny alongside your husband

That is until he is stunned against the wall.

You throw yourself on your knees beside him, cradling his head.

Turning back you spot your mom, alive, holding the blaster

“MOM? WHAT THE HELL?”

“I know you love your husband but for once, just drag his ass out.”

You are holding his hand when he springs back to life.

“What - What happened?” he is shaken

“Poe I-”

He pushes past you running to the nearest window

“NO!” he slams on the glass and you come up behind him hand on his shoulder

“Honey,...” he shrugs his shoulder off, facing you, hurt tainting his face.

“Don’t... Call me that.”

“Poe...”

“No! I thought we were in this together!”

“This plan is gonna work, you have to trust me!”

“How can you ask me that after what you just did.”

First serious married fight... yay.

You look at him, biting your lip, tears in your eyes before walking away.

“Poe.” he turns around and finds your mom, calling him and that’s when she shows him Crait and explains him the full and he realizes he was just an asshole to the person he loved the most.

“Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.”

“Yes you are. Now go apologize to my daughter.”

“Yes ma’am.”

*Cue romantic, cute and awkward apology scene*

When the time comes to face the First Order he boards on a speeder and you on your father’s Falcon alongside Chewie

And of course you then help him lead your people out of the cave

THE RISE OF SKYWALKER

So...you’re kind of the captain of the Falcon

Despite Poe being an undeniably better pilot than you, he insisted that you were the rightful captain of the ship now that your dad was gone.

And he loved to call you captain

It made you smile every single time

Fastforward to Kijimi when Poe has a blaster pointed to his head

You are quick to point your own to the armored woman behind him

“Blaster off him, now.”

“She won’t ask twice, I would listen to her”

“Who are you?” you ask, blaster still up as she hadn’t let hers down

“Honey, this is Zorii. Zorii, this is my wife, Y/N”

Her helmet turns to you “Wife? There are actually people out there who go along with what you say.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” he retorts and you snap a look at him

“I could pull this trigger right now.” She says, pushing the blaster harder against Poe’s head.

“You do that, my blaster is the last thing you’ll see in this life.”

“We’re trying to find Babu Frik.” Poe tries to ease the situation

“He only works with the crew. That’s not you anymore.”

“What does she mean crew?” you ask him

“Oh your wife doesn’t know?”

you look between her and him confused

“Funny he never mentioned it...”

“Married people are still allowed secrets Zorii - “ he tries

“Your husband was a spice runner.”

Your eyes almost pop out of your eye sockets

“You were a spice runner? In almost 5 years of marriage NOT ONCE did it occur to you to mention that!?”

Once again, next to him when one of the stormtroopers blasts him in the arm inside the Star Destroyer

“POE!”

Standing in line next him, Chewie and Finn

“Were you ever going to tell me you were a spice runner?”

“You’re still on that?”

“OH I’M SORRY, IS THIS A BAD TIME?”

“IT KIND OF IS, YEAH!”

“Well, because later doesn’t really seem like an option right now -”

“You don’t say -”

“And if my husband has some other important life information before meeting me that I should be aware of, I would like to know becasue for all i know, you could’ve even been a stormtr--”

BAM

Troopers dead, you all alive

Hux admits to being the spy

“I KNEW IT” he points out

“No, you didn’t.”

 While on one of the Endor’s moon your mom uses her last breath to reach out to you trough the Force

You are a few feet behind Poe on the grass and fall to your knees with a thud

He looks over at you, face dropping as he runs in your direction

Your face is white and your look is blank and he is trying to shake your shoulders to gain some attention from you

“My mom...” You look up at him and he immediately understands, gulping hardly. He doesn’t say a word, simply pulling you into a crushing hug as you scream into the ground, tears running down.

Later, back at the resistance base, after you’ve said your goodbyes to your mom, Poe is the one sitting next to her linen-covered body

“I... I promise I’ll take care of her. Not just now, or in the near future, just... forever. I’ll stay by her side, always, Leia. Your daughter... Your daughter is the love of my life.”

After you defeat the First Order, during the celebrations Poe pulls you aside to a quiet place and tells you that he wants to settle down.

You agree with him, teary eyed, kiss kiss, you know the drill

BB8 beeps at your feet

POST TROS BONUS

The both of you settled on Yavin 4, his home planet

You are blessed with kids, first a baby boy and then a baby girl, 2 years apart

Who you name Kes and Leia, after Poe’s dad and Leia’s mom, who devoted their lives to the resistance and in one way or another were behind the reason your life path’s ever crossed

Poe cried like a baby when you told him you wanted your first born to be named Kes

Occasional visits form uncle Finn and uncle Chewie

When it’s just Finn, him and Poe tend to go out and do “guy stuff”

While you sit back at home with the kids and BB8 who loves to entertain them 

And it isn’t rare for sometimes you being sitting on a bench, watching the three of them play in the distance, head on Poe’s shoulder, his arms draped around your waist

And you look to the side to be met with the Force ghosts of your family members looking down at you

#THIS ONE TOOK TOO LONG #why do i always go all out on the headcanons ffs #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron headcanon #poe dameron x skywalker!reader #poe dameron #oscar isaac #the rise of skywalker #the force awakens #star wars #the last jedi