Nothing quite like an evening at the mountain peak, especially with such a wonderful woman at your side. You glance over, noting the perfection that is your wife—nothing quite like it at all.
The way she tucked her legs up under her as she leaned into your side, her left hand twisting circles in your hair. Her right hand intertwined with yours. In the sunrise, you both shimmered, but she seemed to shine—her eyes shut as the sunlight brushes her cheeks. Is this heaven?
Your hum, seemed to call to her as she glances in your direction. Nothing short of perfection. "Are you ready to head back?" You shook your head, adamant that you want to stay—your cheek against her hair, enjoying the dance of sun off the blonde curls.
"I could stay like this forever..." She smiles, you hum again and return the gesture—your fingers tightening their grasp as she slides closer.
A scream cuts through the silence, splitting the mountains in two as a breeze shifts the air. The thick scent of blood that sings like a song you once sang.
"Y/N?" You look back, realizing you had stood and were now at the cliffs edge—you swallow, there is concern in those amber eyes. An emotion that often clings to her, she worries too much, but now—in this moment, you can't explain the song. You tug her hand, eyes shifting in the direction of the scent—begging her listen, pleading her to hear your pleas.
Rosalie always understood, but now, she hesitates. You were older and more compassionate, you had more control—more experience. You were simply a better person.
In this moment, you felt different.
She notes the purse of your lips, the way your eyes shifted ever so slightly. She notes the way you tugged her hand again, this time more forcefully. Ready to take the leap, with or without her, and she'd never let you jump alone.
That was the day you found Emmett, you can recall the bloodlust with a perfect clarity, until you saw the way Rosalie looked at him. Even in that moment, even knowing the song his blood sang—you were content in waiting back.
Watching as her gentle fingers brushed his curls and whispered comforts as she carried him. Now as you watch them, you smile fondly at the pair—embracing the chaos of their many personalities left you whole in ways you did not understand.
Ways you felt you did not deserve.
"Y/N!" Emmett makes grabby hands in your direction, the way Rose was tucked in his chest already as he lounged across the bed.
You smile, notating the way he seemed to brighten with the gesture. The way his blood once sang, now it was simply him. Rosalie, she was your lover, a mate, and Emmett was your singer. A connection that could hardly be matched, except by a mate. It seemed perfect when you all connected, falling into rhythm like a symphony.
.
.
.
"So Y/N can't talk?" Bella asked Edward, as he explained his family dynamic—one of the elder Cullens, you didn't go to school like the rest despite being similar in age.
"More like doesn't. Y/N wasn't changed by Carlisle and only joined him a few months after he left the Volturi—a lot of their human memories are fuzzy, but they were maimed in an experimental procedure." Bella's eyebrows furrowed, trying to imagine why you wouldn't speak—you seemed so sweet, but never spoke a word.
"Ho-?" The word didn't even finish before Edward interrupted her.
"Someone crudely removed their vocal cords among other things, so when they turned. They healed, but—" Edward inhales, glancing over at Bella in the passenger seat.
"But they never quite recovered. Y/N is roughly 200, but only found Rosalie in 1933 and Emmett 2 years later. She spent her first 100 years alone and unheard, Rose helped her find a voice again." Bella notes his smile at his adopted siblings.
"They still don't talk?" He shakes his head.
"But they sing."
Rosalie could hear the velvety sound of your voice, it seemed to carry warmth and comfort. Every word echoes off the walls of the cottage as the rain patters on top of the porch roof—you spoke next to nothing, but your voice seemed to bury itself in song.
There were no reservations, the piano seemed to harmonize with the rain. Rosalie leaned her head onto the doorframe, just listening as everything poured out of your soul.
You never let Rosalie walk alone, every strain and stress was your burden to share. Your love was never questionable to her, held no strings or stipulations—she never had to earn it.
She felt Emmett’s presence, close, but too close. His eyes shimmering a brilliant red, you were quick to bring him here. The little getaway cabin where you spent many years with Rosalie, enjoying her without the shame. “Have they always talked?”
He couldn’t remember ever hearing you say a word, but he remembered your face with perfect detail. The way you smiled. How Rosalie gravitated to you.
“It’s complicated.” She smiles softly, never looking away. “They’ll sing everything you’ll ever need to hear.” You use ASL mostly, Rosalie had taken it upon herself to learn years ago, but you kept to yourself.
Emmett had found this new life complicated, it felt intricate and challenging, but these two women. You and Rose. It didn’t seem impossible.
“It’s about you isn’t it?” She hmmms, you smile through the lyrics—playing out the notes. Emmett gestures, “The song. It’s about you.” Rosalie’s expression is soft as she looks at you.
“Maybe it’s about you too.”
Looking back, you’re almost certain that was the moment Emmett realized he would never be alone again. That he would always have someone on his side, no matter what.
Introspectively, you knew from the first minute, he was simply meant to be in your life. The same with Rosalie, she had been changed with the intent of being for Edward (a perverted thought that bothered you even now), but once you saw her. Heard those screams—not even Carlisle could deny it.
You didn’t move for three days as she begged you for death, and the silence that followed her change. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” she recalls the whisper as she met your eye, “I never would have wanted this for you.”
It was the first and only time you ever spoke to her, your voice was soft and tender—it felt broken, she could feel the broken in your tone. Now she understands you more, loves you deeper than then.
“Rose?” Emmett looks up at her, before glancing at you across the room. There’s something so curious about quiet need held within his eyes. “Y/N?” You look back, practically coming to them instantly—you bent to their needs at all hours.
Emmett folded your hand in his and then hers, the dynamic felt natural as he summoned some courage. “I want to go with the others to school, with you Rose.” You smile, not feeling at all bothered that he felt ready to explore himself more. To venture away from the home the three of you built—in these four walls, it was just the three of you.
You nod, folding your other hand over his with eagerness—you place it over your heart, knowing you wouldn’t join them.
“I don’t want you to feel left—” You don’t even let him finish as you shake your head, moving your joined hands over his own heart. “But—” You lean up to give him a quick kiss, “Thank you. For always loving me.”
You feel Rosalie snake her arm around you, enjoying the way she leans down to kiss the top of your head. Was Emmett always this sentimental, no, but he always meant it.
••SMUT BELOW••
Rosalie laid out beneath you, lips hovering above her clit as your tongue rolled across the sensitive point. Your thumbs rolled circles in her thighs as your face buried itself in between, the soft pull of her fingers in your hair encouraged you. Her back arches as her body shivers beneath your mouth, she tasted like perfection.
The soft moans you elicited from her etch into your brain, as you pull away—her legs draped across shoulders and grin as you lick your lips. Even without needing breath, her chest heaves—the soft mounds of flesh grabbing your attention as they rise and fall in perfect harmony.
"Do you like what you see?" It felt like a dare, and she swears your eyes seem to come alight as you drop her legs and drag yourself upwards between them. Your bare stomach pressed against hers as you hover above: "Cmon love, I'm not going to break." You lower yourself, keeping your eyes locked on her—memorizing the face she makes as your lips lock over her nipple, tongue flicking as you grasp the other. Her eyes close, lips parting to let out another moan.
Letting go of her breast, you let your fingers drag across her soft skin—not an imperfection in sight. Without a second to breathe, you palm her mound with your hand—resting your middle finger just above the clit. Giving it just enough of a touch, to remind her exactly what it means to be yours. "Please..." You comply with the plea, sliding your finger downwards to touch her entrance before sliding inside.
Rosalie didn't shy away from moaning your name as you work her entrance, pacing yourself as you begin to kiss the other breast before bringing your lips up to kiss. Hoping she can taste herself on you.
You start slow with only a single finger, only entering half an inch before removing. After a minute, you place a second finger—driving it deeper as her lips part. Sweet noises bringing your closer as you increase your pace, working your thumb along her clit as you drive three fingers into her.
Large hands reach around your chest as the mattress shifts under Emmett's added weight. He palms your breasts in his hands, thumb and forefingers rolling your nipples. "I go out hunting, and almost miss all the fun." His tone is light as you smile at him, retracting your fingers and bringing them to his lips. He wraps his mouth around them, before smiling—looking down at Rosalie who was still breathless. "Oh Rose, you taste wonderful." He leans down to place a kiss between her thighs, never breaking eye contact as she bends to them both.
They were safe. They were warm and good, and everything icy about her melted beneath their fingertips.
Emmett wraps his hand around yours as he brings it back to her pussy, "I love when you do that.”
Your legs on either side of her thighs, one hand bracing while the other works Rosalie. You feel Emmett lay down on the end of the bed before his lips kiss your entrance. You shiver in anticipation, feeling him grasp your hips and pull you lower as his tongue moves through your folds and onto your clit with precision.
Rosalie came quickly again, her insides quivering as kisses you deeply enjoying the way your moans feel against her lips. She could feel your pleasure in every hesitation when his tongue hit the right spot. You felt warm like the world was on fire, as you remove your fingers from Rosalie and bury them in her hair.
Skin to skin, and you still attempted to bring her closer. Her breasts against yours, you felt high as you came. Breathing heavily as Emmett enjoyed every drop of your climax, loving your taste as he slid out from under you.
The mattress shifts as he lays beside you both, spooning your forms as Rosalie moves to lay inbetween. Her facing Emmett as you spoon her from behind—you can think of no better place than behind Rosalie Hale.
“Remember our first?” The memory lights up your mind as you recall your first time with the pair. You’d been with Rosalie before, but with them both, everything felt like it clicked into place.
Emmett was gentle with his touch, hesitant to get close to either of you knowing your past. But he wasn’t them, and as you guided his hands to grip onto Rosalie’s hips—you felt his confidence growing.
You smile up at him, sitting up with your head resting against your fist. Giving a soft nod, Emmett cannot explain how it feels to love you both.
It felt like a warm spring after a cold winter. A soft autumn breeze to cool the summer sun. It was the lull of water against the sand, or the roar of the falls against the rocks.
Emmett didn’t have many words and was never one for poetry, but that seemed to be a good start.
Summary: In the dim light of a South Side bar, Ian delivers joyful news—he and Mickey are getting married. For their boyfriend, it’s a shattering revelation he hides behind a smile, only breaking once the door closes. Love doesn’t always end with goodbye—it sometimes ends with silence.
The lights above the bar were dimmed to a warm honey-glow, casting long shadows over scratched wood and glass half-full with forgotten drinks. The jukebox in the corner crooned an old Sam Cooke tune, just loud enough to soften the clink of ice and the hum of too-late conversations. It was a Wednesday night, the kind that dragged like smoke—slow and bitter.
You were wiping down the counter with a cloth that had long given up hope of being clean, leaning into the quiet rhythm of a place that had nothing new to say. Your shirt clung to your back with the sweat of small burdens. The world didn’t end in fire; it ended in repetition.
Then the door creaked open.
You didn’t look up at first—not until you heard that familiar cadence, the confident shuffle of boots that walked like they had nothing to prove but everything to hide. Ian Gallagher, in a denim jacket with a stain on the collar and that goddamn smirk that could crack you open just by existing.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into his usual stool with the ease of someone who belonged to the furniture.
You offered a tired smile, half warmth, half ache. “You’re early. Didn’t expect you till last call.”
He shrugged, fingers dancing over the edge of the counter like they were chasing a nervous thought. “Mickey’s at home. We had some… talking to do.”
You stilled, the cloth in your hand freezing mid-circle.
There it was—something in the air. A pressure drop before the storm.
“Oh?” you managed, pouring him a whiskey without asking. You always knew his drink. You knew everything—how his breath hitched when he lied, how his hands shook on good days and steadied only when he was touching something real. Like Mickey. Like you.
Ian stared at the amber in his glass, then met your eyes with something too heavy to carry and too tender to ignore.
“We’re getting married.”
Just like that.
Four words.
Like bullets wrapped in lace.
You nodded slowly, your face a perfect stillness—no cracks, no tremors. “That’s… great,” you said, your voice silk-smooth and miles wide.
Ian smiled, sheepish and golden. “Yeah. It’s crazy, right? I mean, we talked about it for months, but it never felt real. Not until today.”
You laughed, a soft exhale that tasted like iron. “You two are the definition of crazy.”
He grinned, and God, that grin could gut you.
“I wanted you to hear it from me. You mean a lot to us. To me.” His eyes softened, and you hated how sincere he looked. “This doesn’t change anything.”
But it did.
It changed everything.
Because love, real love, wasn’t divisible. It was whole or it wasn’t. And they had chosen wholeness—with each other.
You forced a chuckle, reaching for another glass, anything to keep your hands from betraying you. “Well, I expect an invite. Open bar, right?”
“Of course,” Ian said, getting to his feet. He hesitated, then reached across the counter, fingers brushing yours. “I hope you’re happy for us.”
“I am,” you lied.
And then he was gone, leaving the air behind him fractured and thin.
The door closed.
The silence fell.
You stood there for a moment, watching the dust spin in the light. Then, without a word, you turned and walked to the back room—the one with the broken jukebox and the crates of cheap beer and the ghosts that didn’t talk back.
You leaned against the wall, breath hitching in your throat. The first tear came slow, trailing a quiet path down your cheek. The second broke the dam.
You sank to the floor, knees folding like paper, hands in your hair, mouth open in a silent scream. Your ribs clenched around the weight of it—the grief of being second, of being left, of not being enough.
You loved them both. Fiercely. Quietly. In ways that didn’t fit into sentences. You loved them in takeout dinners and bruised kisses and the nights when Mickey fell asleep on your chest, safe for once. You loved Ian when he laughed so hard he cried, and when he cried so hard you didn’t know if he’d ever laugh again.
But love wasn’t a life raft.
Not when it wasn’t returned with both hands.
You punched the wall, not hard, but enough. Enough to feel something. Enough to remind yourself you were still here.
The light buzzed overhead, flickering like a bad memory.
You stayed there for what felt like forever, knees to your chest, heart in pieces around you. The world outside moved on—orders placed, drinks poured, a new song on the jukebox.
And you?
You picked yourself up.
You wiped your face with the back of your hand.
You walked back into the bar and poured another drink—this one for yourself.
Because sometimes love didn’t end with goodbye.
Sometimes it ended with a wedding invitation.
And a smile you had to wear like armor.
Even as your heart broke in beautiful, deafening silence.
Andrei Svechnikov & Sebastian Aho & Teuvo Teräväinen - gentle love
cw: poly relationship (3 players dating gn!reader, relationships between players not specified but can be read as platonic or romantic), mentions of therapy, crying/“breaking down”, general mental health struggles (not further specified), some dissociation around time, food and eating (unrelated to mental health struggles), two mentions of a character accidentally burning himself while cooking … 1.7k words
Sometimes you could get so good at bottling up your feelings and suppressing emotions that everything felt fine. At least until you were sat in a therapy session —with the same therapist you’d been seeing for years— and they hit you, broke you, caused you to completely fall apart on an uncomfortable leather armchair.
Fuck, how you hated when that happened.
You were lucky, in a way, to break in a controlled environment. Your therapist let you cry it out and didn’t try to push the issue more or force you to talk about it. Not that you would have been able to, even if you had wanted to talk. They handed you tissues —single ones at first before just giving you the entire box— and let you go over your time for almost fifteen whole minutes with a simple “don’t worry about it” in a tone that told you she felt sorry for you. Hopefully sorry enough to let the overtime slide. That way your insurance wouldn’t complain over extra billed hours.
That didn’t mean you felt okay afterwards but at least that red hot ball of overwhelming emotion had shriveled into a heavy feeling in your stomach, leaving you numb but sick. You hated it, yet you couldn’t escape. Even though you were sitting in your car you couldn’t drive home. Not like this, with your hands body shaking and your vision going blurry from a combination of leftover tears and a post-cry headache.
While you could have sat there longer trying to calm down, there was nothing you wanted more than to go home. Calling your partners felt like admitting you were weak but fuck, nobody could be strong all the time and you were allowed to be vulnerable. Still, you were too shaken to call, fearing that they would hear the emotions in your voice. Instead you sent a message in your group chat asking if one of them could pick you up.
You were still in your car, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard your fingers hurt, when a familiar car pulled into the parking lot of your therapist’s office. It was hard to say who came for you. They had taken Andrei’s car but the Russian wouldn’t have taken the corner so carefully. Truthfully you only realized more than one of your boyfriends had come when Teuvo tapped on your window and you looked out to see him and Sebastian standing there. They were careful to look at you no differently than usual but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t see the worry in their eyes.
“Rough talk?” Teuvo asked as you got out, taking in your state. You could only nod in response. There was no point in pretending you were okay, not with them being able to see through you so clearly it made you feel like your entire being was made out of crystal. Fragile like it too, ironically.
“Come.” Teuvo put an arm around your shoulder, gently steering you towards the other car. “Sepe will drive your car home.”
The drive back to your place wasn’t too long without rush hour traffic but it still seemed to stretch into hours. Teuvo hadn’t turned on the radio and you didn’t know whether you were grateful for the lack of stimulation or annoyed at the lack of distraction. Then suddenly within the blink of an eye those hours turned into seconds and he pulled into the parking area of your building, your car somehow already parked in its usual spot but Sebastian nowhere to be seen.
Teuvo got out of the car and walked around it to open your door for you, a sweet gesture you suppose. Walking into the building you turned towards the stairs, your boys always complained about them but they tended to use them simply because they were quicker than the old elevator your landlord refused to upgrade. Today though, Teuvo steered you toward the elevator before pressing the button to your floor. The ride up was as silent as the car ride.
The entryway to your place was surprisingly empty as you toed off your shoes but you realized why once you walked in further. Your whole apartment smelled amazing, hearty and warm in the way only a good soup could. Muffled Russian cursing came from the direction of the kitchen so you didn’t have to guess who decided to play chef during your absence.
“He definitely touched the hot pot again.” Teuvo joked quietly while helping you out of your jacket.
“Thank you.” Your voice was barely audible as you responded but he didn’t complain. Instead he steered you towards the living room where Sebastian already stood, holding up a soft blanket you liked to use.
The sight of him waiting for you made your heart ache in the best way. Your boys truly were so thoughtful. Walking to Sebastian you let yourself be wrapped into the blanket. The first touch of that dryer warm fabric against your skin almost brought tears to your eyes. Before you knew it you were sat on the couch, all wrapped up, while your boyfriends flitted around the apartment. There was a cup placed on the couch table, a coaster below it to catch any drips running down the ceramic and prevent them from leaving a print on the wood. Oh.
Sebastian and Teuvo just awkwardly lingered around the room as Andrei walked in carrying a bowl of soup and placed it next to the cup. You could see the rosy spot on the back of his hand where he had burned himself while cooking but he pulled his hands away before you could react. He didn’t completely retreat like your other partners though. Instead he sat down next to you before pulling the table closer towards the couch. “Recipe from mama.” He said. “Makes bad days better.”
The realization of what was going on just made you tear up again. There was no way Andrei would have had enough time to cook after you had texted your boyfriends to pick you up. But if he didn’t make it from scratch following his mother’s recipe that could only mean one thing. He must have heated up some of the soup his mother had made for him the last time she visited. The soup that had been stashed away deep in the freezer for those days he felt especially homesick.
“Oh no. No. No. Don’t cry.” Andrei wrapped his arms around you gently, pulling you against his broad body. He continued to talk, something low and Russian you couldn’t understand, but you could suspect that it was something calming in his mother tongue. At least he didn't seem to mind you clutching at his hoodie and maybe crying into it a little.
The tears eventually stopped but you were still holding onto your boyfriend when your other boyfriends stopped hovering and instead came closer to the couch.
“Can we sit?” Sebastian asked, gesturing to the free space on either side of you and Andrei.
“Or would it be too much right now?” Teuvo added.
It was an age old conflict within you, wanting those you loved close for comfort while also needing as much space between you and others as possible. Today though, you needed them by your side more than anything. Making grabby hands at them felt slightly juvenile but you honestly didn’t care at the moment.
Theoretically all four of you should fit on the couch comfortably. It was big enough for your polycule as well as visitors in case your boys wanted to invite teammates over to play video games or hang out. But somehow you still ended up squished between the three of them.
You just let yourself enjoy their presence for a moment. Somebody began stroking your back through the blanket, soothing words in a foreign language filling the room.
“Can we…” You began, before stopping. They wouldn’t force you to talk but you still hated asking. Communication was important but you just couldn’t. “Can we not talk about it?”
A kiss was pressed against your hairline while somebody spoke, too soft to make out who. “Okay.”
By the time you gathered yourself enough to sit up and reach for the soup the hearty meal had cooled down, clinging onto the last remnants of warmth. It hadn’t lost any of the flavor though. You were well aware of the three pairs of eyes watching you eat but you just focused on the food in front of you.
Andrei didn’t fill the bowl up completely so it didn’t take you long to finish your soup. What Andrei had said was true —good soup, especially his mother’s soup, made bad days better— but your boys also helped immensely.
When you were done you couldn’t even put the bowl down before they jumped up.
“More?” Andrei asked at the same time that Teuvo asked “Done?”
Only Sebastian remained on the couch with you and you took the opportunity to snuggle closer.
“No thank you Andrei, that was more than enough. Thank you for sharing your soup with me.”
He smiled at you before Teuvo reached over and plucked the bowl from your hands, “Sit.” He told Andrei before walking away towards the kitchen. Behind you Sepe opened his arms and before you knew it you were sandwiched between the two men again.
By the time Teuvo came back the two guys had joined you under the blanket. Your oldest boyfriend just looked at you three before sighing and attempting to wrestle a corner from Sebastian so that he could join you as well. It was all in good fun but the chaos of it all —the tug of war about a blanket and the muffled Finnish curses—was enough to bring a smile to your face.
The four of you were an odd relationship but you fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Even if your boys were incapable of sharing a blanket they shared love and that was far more important. There was an understanding between you that you had never experienced in a relationship before and that you never wanted to lose.
Andrei noticed you smiling and wrapped his arms around you, using his body to shield yours from the play fight happening around you two. You just sighed —content— and leaned back against his broad chest, the smile not leaving your face. Some days were hard but with them by your side, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
please help i’m looking for a story i read on here a long time ago 😭 it was a poly jikook fic but jimin was only in love with jungkook and the reader was only in love with jimin. jungkook made them be in this poly relationship bc he was in love with reader. it’s a whole bunch of other things but that’s the gist of it. i’ve been searching on and off for almost 2 years 😭 somebody please remember this story. it was really good and i forgot to save it
TV Show: Van Helsing (Syfy). Based on no specific season.
Pairing: Immunized!Susan Jackson x S/O!Human!Reader x Vanessa Van Helsing.
Warning: ambiguous!reader. Reader gets kidnapped. Brief mention of torture and blood (not to the Reader). Kinda yandere-ish?? --these babies are just protective, is all, lol. Morally Grey!girlfriends. Women that can, and will, kill.
I know this is pretty tame, as 'dark' fics go, but I added a cut, jic.
Sus/Empty blogs will be blocked, upon interaction!!
((Imagine, under the cut. May contain sensitive content!!))
Imagine... Being their s/o and despite being turned back to human, Susan, as well as Vanessa, have difficulty shaking off their bloodlust, when you're taken from them, suddenly.
The vampire that had swiped you up out from under their noses, having taken the opportunity, when you went off on your own, while they scavenged for supplies.
The thought of getting under Vanessa's skin, and better, to feast on what she loved the most, while doing it, being too-big-a-thrill to let the moment pass.
But, of course, had this single-minded creature stopped to think of the consequences, he probably wouldn't have met his demise so soon. The slow tortuous kill, Vanessa and Susan had partaken in, in avenging you, having been as sweet as, if not more than, thrilling as the day they met you.
The state they left him in, signaling to all, that you were theirs and whomever wished to test their luck, in doing the same thing he did, would meet the same end....
The Sharpest Lives; Wade Wilson (feat. Nathan Summers) – Part 5 of 5
I expected this to be smuttier. Maybe I can get around to writing a bonus chapter with smut if any of you would be into that? Let me know!
Same trigger warnings, actually, this is much milder since the action/conflict has pretty much passed. Yay for happy endings!
tag list: @peculiar-persephone @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @yomama-umbridge @dee-vn @ghostlyvenus-selfships
Waking up is less dramatic than yesterday. Simply put, you got too hot. Wade’s healing factor makes him the equivalent of a heated blanket that’s just a little too warm.
He’s already awake, though, gazing at you in a silence that to most would seem uncharacteristic.
But you know him.
“Can- Can I call you ‘baby,’ now?” he asks. It lacks his false bravado, in fact, he sounds like the scared little boy he once was, before the killing and the new girl every night and the grand love story and the cruel experimentation. Before he was him.
You nod solemnly.
“They’ll be here in a couple hours. After that, we’ll get Eddie and then lay low for a little while, blow away some of our savings. Get to know each other again, and get to know him.”
You nod again.
“I love you, you know that, right?”
And again.
“Say something?” he meekly requests.
“Water, please?” you croak, throat dry.
He leaps to action, accidentally shaking the rollaway a little bit and waking Russell with a start.
“Sorry, little man. Just grabbing some water for the wifey.”
Wade toddles over to the kitchenette, and you turn, wrenching yourself from Nathan’s grip to observe him as Wade observed you. Some people look more at peace when asleep. Not him. His jaw is clenched shut; his eyebrows are furrowed. You brush a tuft of his gray hair from his face, and he snatches your wrist.
You flinch back, and recognition washes over his face, remorse following shortly after.
“No touching while you’re asleep, gotcha,” you awkwardly chuckle.
“Can’t imagine why you’d wanna touch this mug,” he grumbles.
“Get used to asking yourself that question every day!” Wade chirps. “Well, on second thought, you are super fucking se-”
“Wade,” you hiss, reminding him once again that there’s a kid present.
Nathan takes a moment to examine the arm he grabbed.
“Sorry,” he nearly whispers, but you shake your head.
“I scared you,” you dismiss it. “Don’t you start with the whole delicate treatment, too.”
“It’s not that you are delicate. You just deserve to be treated like it. Y’know, gentle.”
Wade laughs heartily, nearly spilling the glass he’s returned with.
You give him a pointed look as he hands it to you. You take a nice, long drink before placing it on the nightstand.
“I didn’t say anything,” he defends himself.
“Oh, is that how it is?” Nathan looks up at you with a glint in his eye best described as devious. Blood rushes to your face, but you force it back nearly as fast. “That’s a nice little trick you’ve got there.”
“What trick?” Wade asks, oblivious.
“He doesn’t know.” Nathan looks a little too proud of himself.
“I don’t know how you do.”
“I… Have some telepathic abilities. They’re almost exclusively used to keep the virus from taking over, but I can still sense some things. She uses her abilities to push the blood away from her face so she won’t blush. I wasn’t sure what you were doing the other night when I felt it, but you’re a little slower in the mornings, aren’t you?”
Wade is gobsmacked.
“Yes, she knew,” you know the question he’s too scared to ask. “That night was her idea, actually.”
“That night?!” he squeaks.
“That night?” Nathan asks.
“Well, I kind of…challenged Wade. To make me blush,” you explain as vaguely as you can, but Russell still chortles.
“You were so mean,” Wade teasingly whines. “You’re just not trying hard enough,” he imitates you shockingly well.
“You liked it,” you remind him.
“Evil little- Hmph!” Wade grumbles, and you can’t help but giggle.
“If I was as goofy as the two of you, I’d be playing dead right now,” Nathan cuts in.
“Huh?” you and Wade respond.
“Y’know, how I said I’d drop dead… Ugh, nevermind,” he groans. “See? Not goofy.”
“Wait, no, I get it now!” you reassure him. “Very funny.”
“I don’t.”
“Oh, it’s just something he said the night before last, about how much prettier I’d be if I was well-rested and… Really smiling.” You smile again, gazing at your newly-found soulmate. “Guess it happened sooner than I thought.” You know there will be days where the grief is crushing, but you’ll feed on this little slice of happiness, on any that you can find. Something tells you that you won’t be running out of them anytime soon, even with the hard times to come.
“Can I kiss you?” Nathan asks.
You look to Wade for approval.
“He’s your soulmate, too,” he tells you with a shrug.
And so, you two have a kiss that’s a little more than chaste, but still simple. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you once again have to prevent yourself from blushing like it’s the first kiss you’ve ever received.
He’s smirking like you did, though, and that’s when you know you’re in for it.
“Cute,” he says softly.
“Isn’t she?” Wade rejoins you in bed. “Let’s just cuddle until the X-Losers get here.”
“Dude,” you remind him, and he turns to Russell.
“Oh, they’re, uh, they’re not losers, I- Uh-”
“Anyways, I’d like to remedy my morning breath and do my best to no longer reek of blood and sweat.”
“Wouldn’t we all?” Wade agrees. He and Russell are still in their yucky jumpsuits from the prison. “How about this? Russell gets picked up by them, and we go back to the apartment for a group shower?”
Nathan clears his throat.
“You don’t have to join, but I will say, Y/N really gets into your back with this super yummy-smelling scrub, I mean, why make it with sugar and make it smell like fruit if you don’t want people to eat it? It’s downright cruel, truly, I-”
“Can you shower?” you wonder, cutting Wade off. “Do you need, like, a special sleeve for…” You’re not sure what to call the metal creeping up Nathan’s neck and covering his arm.
“It’s hard to explain, but it’s organic.”
“So’s malachite,” you reply, wanting a real answer. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t give off toxic fumes when it gets wet.”
“Oh, a geologist, are we?” he half-snarks back.
“Best friends with one.”
And with that, you get a call from Ellie.
“Speak of the devil. Hi.”
“We’re almost there. You okay?”
“Okay-er than I was yesterday, and the day before,” you tell her.
“Good,” she replies. “See you soon.”
“Yes, ma’am! Be safe, love you.” You hang up.
“It’s fine. The metal, I mean. Doesn’t rust or anything, at least not yet,” Nathan mumbles. “And it’s been around for a long time.”
You nod in understanding.
Wade ruffles your hair and you sigh, still a little drowsy.
“Are you excited?” you ask Russell.
“Yeah, kinda…”
“It’s a great place. I grew up there.”
This seems to relieve him a bit.
“I get my own bed?”
“You’ll probably have a roommate or two, but, yeah. And there’s plenty of food to go around, and movie nights where the movie doesn’t get turned off, and… It can be a lot sometimes, but it really is like one big family.”
You feel a pang in your heart and look at Wade, who’s looking at Nathan.
“I’ll explain later, maybe,” Nathan mumbles.
“Okay,” you reply.
There’s a knock at the door, a special pattern that you know by heart.
You go for the door, opening it up for Ellie, Yukio, and Piotr.
“Russell!” you call.
“You sure you’re okay?” Yukio asks.”You know you can always come back, there’s plenty of room and everyone would be so happy to see you, and-”
“Yukio. She knows,” Ellie mumbles.
“You’d be the happiest to see your pseudo-big sis, don’t pretend it’s any other way!” Yukio insists, and you giggle a little. Russell joins you at the doorway.
“Hey, buddy!” Yukio chirps.
“Russell, this is Yukio, president of the Welcome Committee. This is her girlfriend, Ellie, and that’s Mr. Rasputin. He teaches some of the art classes. Do you like to paint?”
“I think so… It’s been so long,” Russell admits.
“I guess you’ll find out,” you tell him. He grins.
“Do you have any questions before we go? Anything you wanna say?” Ellie asks curtly, but, hey, she’s trying.
Russell simply gives you a big hug.
“Okay, that’s all,” he says before finally crossing the threshold and joining the trio outside.
“See you soon,” you say to the now-quartet, and they all say (or in Ellie’s case, wave) their goodbyes. You shut the door and lock it.
“Alrighty. Let’s go home!” Wade cheers. Both he and Nathan have gotten up at this point. “I, uh, cleaned up the laptop shards. And basically the whole apartment. Cocaine and anxiety, well, they make for a very clean house.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, but Wade shakes his head.
“You had a human reaction to a fucked-up situation. One I put you in. And you already apologized, and I already forgave you. We’re as okay as we could possibly be right now, alright?”
“Alright,” you reply.
“I’m gettin’ kinda curious about this place,” Nathan chimes in. “Especially that whole shower thing.”
“You just wanna see Y/N nekkid,” Wade giggles.
The shade of red Nathan turns is so adorable you feel yourself start to giggle, too, but you try to force it down for his sake.
Nathan clears his throat.
“You don’t?” he retorts, but it took a little too long for him to come up with that to take him seriously.
“Why, of course I do! If I had my way, it would be federal- No, international law for Y/N to never wear clothes. Not for sexual reasons, no, no, sir, but because she is art that should not be hidden from the world. Especially me.”
“Don’t get his hopes up,” you laugh.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nathan’s tone suddenly darkens when he says this, and he turns your head so you face him directly. “You’re gorgeous, doll. Guess he’s not getting his nose broken. Don’t think I could stand to see tears in those pretty eyes again.”
“You were gonna break my nose?!” Wade whines. “No, wait, that’d be kinda hot. You do aftercare, right?”
Nathan just scoffs, shaking his head.
“Let’s just get checked out and go.”
You and Wade follow his lead, cleaning up after yourselves and letting Nathan do the talking in the lobby while you two wait in the truck. He swiftly returns, and the trip that follows is like the day before yesterday in reverse; the sun gets higher as you return to familiarity. You’re squeezed between Wade’s nervous rambling of directions and Nathan’s stoic silence.
Eventually, you’re home.
Nathan parks behind the duplex to avoid the stolen truck being spotted by those passing by, and the three of you make your way upstairs.
“Shit,” you realize you left your keys inside when you left, and it’s not like Wade was able to retrieve his when you did your little prison break.
“Lock’s still busted, hon,” Wade murmurs.
“Right,” you say, but you don’t open the door, steeling yourself.
“Do you want me to do it?” Nathan asks you both. The two of you nod, and he opens the door.
You sigh as you enter. It’s the same as when you left. Cleaner, like Wade said, but the same. It’s like nothing even happened.
“Nice place,” Nathan comments.
“Thanks,” you and Wade say in unison.
The cleanliness of the apartment makes you even more aware of the grime you feel you’re covered in. You scratch at your cheek.
“Go ahead and hop in the shower,” Wade says. “I’ll lay out some comfy clothes for you and get your phone on the charger.”
“You’re not gonna shower with me?”
“I was… Sorta kidding,” Wade admits. “Figured you might want some time to yourself.”
“‘Cause that totally sounds like me,” you laugh.
“I meant you might not wanna be, y’know, around me.”
There’s a thorn in your heart. Or maybe his.
You shake your head. He embraces you, and it’s gone.
“We’re gonna be okay, you know that, right?” you remind him.
You look up at him, and that grieving ache in his heart intensifies.
“I don’t deserve you.”
“I deserve you even less,” you reply.
“You two. I feel like I’m watching one of Aaliyah’s vampire shows. Go take a fucking shower,” Nathan grumbles, but his cheeks are a little pink. You’d be worried if you felt any jealousy, but you don’t…
Wait, does he think you two are cute?
You nearly giggle.
“Okay,” you respond, giving Nathan a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. You turn the water on and strip down while you wait for it to warm up.
The door opens, and you turn to see Wade.
“Wow,” he blurts.
“You act like it’s the first time every time.”
“Sure does feel like it, hot stuff.” He unzips his jumpsuit and takes off his boxers. “Wait, uh…”
You finally notice the collar, and reach for it.
“No!” The fear jolts you more than his shout does. His fear. “It’ll shock you if you try and take it off. Do, the, uh… The pressure thing.”
“That shit hurts,” you remind him.
“Dying of cancer hurts worse. It neutralizes any mutant ability.”
“Fuck… Okay.”
You take a deep breath, focusing on the beating of his heart; the blood rushing in his veins. You make it burst out of his neck in a tiny, powerful stream, slicing the collar off. It leaves a pretty nasty gash in his neck, but that heals up quickly. You rub at the same spot on your own neck, still feeling the sting a little.
Nathan pounds on the door, scaring you both.
“We’re fine!” Wade shouts. “Had to get my fancy prison necklace off without touching it.”
“Just checking.”
And with that, you check the water again, pulling back.
“Ow!” Wade squeals dramatically.
“I know,” you reply, turning the temperature down. You two share a look, feeling a certain third party’s anxiety simmer in your stomachs.
Nathan knocks on the door again, this time lighter.
“Just come in already,” Wade complains.
The door cracks open.
His eyes widen, flicking between you and Wade.
“Did you not expect us to shower naked, or…?” Wade asks rhetorically.
“Well, I just- Hm. Yeah. Okay.”
He leaves as quickly as he arrived. You and Wade laugh like idiots— mostly at the aching in your groins that isn’t yours —before finally getting in the shower.
Wade squirts a good amount of shampoo in his hands as you wet your hair.
He lathers you up and you damn near melt at the sensation of his fingers against your scalp.
You rinse your hair as he gets the conditioner. He works it into the ends of your hair before the two of you finally kiss. He sighs.
“That’s it. Now, I’m home.”
“You’re so cheesy,” you tell him.
“But you like it,” he sing-songs. “Mm, beautiful.”
“You’re just buttering me up. C’mon, let’s switch spots and I’ll get the scrub.”
He nods, and the two of you do as you said. You unscrew the lid of the scrub and get to work on his back, not bothering to save the best for last.
The scrub stings against his aching skin, but he seems to like whatever other sensations he gets from it, the ones you can’t feel.
“You know, I could just give you a back rub,” you remind him.
“Yeah, but exfoliating gets all the dead skin off so it doesn’t try to heal back and get all gross and flaky. Remember the first time you did this?”
You do. His back looked like a lizard struggling to shed its skin. Wade’s skin doesn’t disgust you, but you have to admit, it did give you the creeps that time.
You finish up quickly, and he turns to rinse the remaining soap and sugar off.
“Want me to get yours?”
You nod and turn around. You only woke up a few hours ago, but the warmth of the shower and the comfort of Wade’s presence is sapping your energy away.
He massages the scrub into your back and you’re once again melting under his touch.
“All done,” he chirps. The two of you continue to wash your bodies, and afterwards you rinse out your conditioner. He turns the water off for you and grabs towels from the hooks just outside. You pat yourselves dry and realize you forgot to grab clean clothes.
The two of you giggle as you skitter out of the bathroom in just your towels, dropping them once you make it to your wardrobe and his dresser.
“Can I wear one of your shirts?” you ask as you pull on your underwear and a pair of sweatpants.
Wade tosses you one and you put it on. He hums with delight at the sight of you.
“Eddie can wait ‘til tomorrow. Now, it’s time for a cuddle sesh,” he suggests. “What do you think, Nate?”
“It’s her money,” he responds from the couch. He’s sitting in her spot. You look at Wade, who’s already looking at you. Your eyes burn a little, but you smile. He has no idea how he’s healing you both, filling that void. Not replacing her, he never could, but he’s like a rectangular block that fits through a square hole; something different taking up the same space.
“I think it can wait until tomorrow,” you agree, heading over to the couch. You take your spot, draping your legs over Nathan’s lap, while Wade takes his and you prop yourself against him. “This is nice.”
“Mhm,” he hums in agreement. You’re all hurting, sure, but… But it’s peaceful. A new normal falling into place.
Being In A Poly Relationship with Rapunzel and Flynn
Request: Hello!!!! Can u make headcanons what it would be dating Rapunzel and Flynn (I mean in poly ship with the two of them)? If its okay with you of course!!!
Dating these two would be a lot of fun, first of all. Like just know you're dating the two best people in all of Corona.
Rapunzel is sweet, soft naive in a lot of things (including love though she'll never admit it)
She's the kind of person who will constantly check in with you and Flynn, to make sure you're both happy and also to make sure she's doing a good job
Makes you both gifts, paintings, knitting, baking, etc.
Loves to cuddle, will find both or one of you to cuddle when she's feeling down
She likes to be touching a lot, constantly holding your hands, wrapping her arms around the two of you that sort of thing
Sometimes, you and Flynn get into arguments since you both don't always see eye to eye on things
Rapunzel is always the mediator between you two, reminding you how much you love each other and her
You're the middle ground between Rapunzel and Flynn
You like physical affection, but you don't need it all the time
Having been a servant before, you like to do things on your own without other people so sometimes Flynn or Rapunzel helping you with things annoys you
You enjoy spending time with them though, regardless what it is
Sometimes you feel a little self conscious in the relationship because the two of them seem to mesh so well together it feels like they don't need you
Both of them disagree strongly though
Whenever you bring it up, the two become increasingly clingy to you
Flynn becomes over obsessed with taking care of you, Rapunzel becomes super attentive to your needs
They want you to feel included, because despite how you feel, they love you just as much as they love each other
Finally, Flynn is the most dominant partner in the relationship
He's really protective over you and Rapunzel
Seriously, anyone who wants to touch/harm either of you better watch their backs, there's no way Flynn would ever let them lay a finger on you
He's a big softie for anything either of you do
Seriously, if you guys do anything he's your number one supporter, even if he doesn't a hundred percent trust what you're doing
The three of you definitely share a bed, Flynn usually sleeps in the center with you both on either side, but sometimes you switch it up
Mostly everyone in the kingdom is supportive of the fact that the three of you are in a relationship, but sometimes people don't understand
Their favourite target when it comes to that is you, because everyone thinks you're the odd one out in the relationship
They definitely shout insults and Rapunzel and Flynn are definitely super protective over you because of that
They would both fight for you without hesitation, even though you've told them multiple times you can fight for yourself
Summary: Takeshi goes on his first mission with the squad and you just try to cope.
Coauthor: @lacontroller1991
Warnings: canon complicit violence, mind manipulation, lots of angst, cursing
Word Count: 2,561
The ride back to the apartment is silent aside from Rick’s fingers tap, tap, tapping against the steering wheel to the soft music.
“You know he’ll be fine, right?” You glance over to him at the sound of his voice.
“Yeah, I know he’ll be fine. Of course he will,” A shaky breath cuts you off, “But what if he’s not?” Rick takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, lighting kissing your knuckles.
“Why don’t we watch a movie when we get home? One of those cheesy action flicks you like.”
“That sounds great.”
—-------
“So does she ever get confused on who’s who when it comes to sex,” Harley asks, completely unprompted, “Come on McSteamy, I’m talking to you.”
“Do you do this to Rick?”
“She does it to everyone,” DuBois replies, looking over to where Harley sits, now singing along to a song playing only in her head, rocking her body to the unheard beat causing Takeshi to raise his eyebrow at DuBois, silently asking for an explanation. Robert sighs. “She does that too.”
“Great,” he grumbles, mindlessly fidgeting with the rifle Rick had given him along with the armorer. He had wanted to use his own weapons that he brought from Bay City, but Waller and Rick had immediately vetoed that. “Have you guys been briefed yet?”
“Flag normally does that while we’re on our way!” Harley yells into the mic of her headset and Tak has to stop himself from cringing.
“There’s a threat. We’re going to take it out. Simple as that.”
“That’s not much of a plan, mate.”
“Form one. I could do this by myself but Waller sent you guys with me.” Tak looks away, deep in thought. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe it’ll get back to Waller and she’ll pull him off the task force, but for some reason, Tak can’t bring himself to care. Until he pictures your disapproving face. “Look, we’ll form two teams, flank the combatant on either side and hold positions. Do whatever you gotta do but make sure it’s dead.”
—-------
Rick’s arm inches closer and closer around your shoulders, but he’s not really sure how to approach your still frame. He had thought that one on one time with you and only you would be fun, but the way you hug yourself as you stare mindlessly at the tv proves otherwise and he’s about had it.
“Are you like this when I’m gone?” The question stirs you out of your thoughts, pulling your attention towards the man next to you.
“What?”
“Are you like this when I’m gone,” he gestures to the way you perch yourself on the couch, your phone within a reaching distance. “Are you this cold with Tak?”
Your eye twitches. How dare he ask something like that? “You really don’t have a damn clue.”
Rick softens at your tone, a sudden reminder of how scared you’ve been each time he’s left in the past. “I’m trying to learn. Please, talk to me. Say something,” Rick begs, gripping onto your arm as you thaw with his touch, letting out a shaky breath.
“When you’re gone, I cry myself to sleep. Recently, yes. In Tak’s arms. But that doesn’t make it better. I’m afraid to fall asleep because all I see when I dream are memories of last year. Everytime I try to shut my eyes, I just see you on the stretcher in that damn hospital with those tubes and wires sticking out of you every which way and me in the background, watching helplessly as they saved your life. Not able to do a damned thing. I wake up each night you’re gone, screaming for you. Terrified. And I have only been able to just slightly calm down after Tak holds me and reminds me that you are still here. And even then, in the back of my mind, I know that can always change. Now I have to deal with that for both of you.” You pull a gasp of air into your lungs, only able to judge how long you’ve been ranting by your need for oxygen, “This, me just sitting here, not talking is nothing, Rick. So please, just try to be understanding,” you crawl onto Rick’s lap and wrap around him, burying your head in his neck as his arms wrap around you. “I just want you both to be safe.”
Rick presses a kiss to the top of your head as he strokes your back. “He’s going to be fine, baby. We’re both going to be fine.”
—-------
Tak is not fine. Far from it in fact. Never in all his years of training with Quell and CTAC had he seen such a disarray of chaotic fighting, but what he sees here in the streets of Havana has him questioning all sanity. “Quinn, get the fuck down!” Takeshi’s voice booms as he dives to his right, tumbling across the asphalt and just barely escaping a large truck being thrown towards them. Where the fuck did that even come from? Harley isn’t as lucky. She gets decked by the corner of the vehicle and crashes onto the hood of a nearby car. Tak watches then as one of the army rangers that had been sent along with the squad gets picked up by an unseen force and hurled against a nearby building. His body slumps to the ground limply though Tak is unable to tell whether he is dead or just unconscious.
“Fuck.” Managing to pull his bruised and sore body up from the ground, Takeshi moves quickly to position himself behind a flipped over van where he will have at least partial cover before angling his rifle towards the creator of all of this chaos. Standing in the middle of the destroyed street is a pale man dressed in completely drab clothing except for the black glove on his right hand, which glows with a bizarre purple light. Tak aims straight for the man's head, but once again can’t believe his eyes as he pulls the trigger. The bullets swerve around his adversary. Round after round somehow manages to miss their target, but they do get his attention. The man, tall and lanky, then turns to Tak and begins to take short, precise steps towards him. Tak throws the rifle down and grabs two knives from their holsters on his side. “Come on then, you motherfucker.”
With a swipe of his attacker's gloved hand as he nears, the car Tak stands behind is lifted and heaved towards his head, just high enough for the envoy to duck and avoid.
“Is that all you got?” He spits out and stands back up to his full height, before taking a step forward.
The person steps back with a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with anger as he raises his arm outwards and points a finger in Tak’s direction.
“Not in the slightest.”
—-------
Rick places his card over the scanner, granting him and you access to an unused room. After much convincing on your part, Rick finally caved and agreed to let you watch the mission. Normally, it’s classified unless you were on the comms team, but how could he say no to your pleading eyes.
“These computers should still be functional. We can’t stay here for long though, darlin’. We’re only here to see how he’s holding up. Right?”
You stand behind Rick, Takeshi’s coat wrapped around your body as you nod your head. Realistically, you know your Envoy is fine, but with any mission, there is always the nagging feeling that accompanies you. And this being his first with the team makes it all the worse. “Yeah, I just wanna see how he’s doing.”
Rick nods, typing in his own code and pulling up the surveillance in the area. Shock and confusion begin to set in at the scene playing out in front of you both. “What the fuck is he doing just standin’ there?”
You easily push Rick to the side and stare down at the screen, the hacked security cam footage showing you two small figures who appear to be Takeshi and the enemy standing across from each other, a purplish light surrounding the Envoy who stands completely still in his spot. Your brows furrow together as you bang the computer with your fist, hoping the signal is simply frozen. Rick is quick to pull your hands away from the screen as he calms you and points to the corner. “This is live feed, darlin’. See?” your eyes follow his movement and see some trash rolling in the breeze, but still, Tak and the person remain still.
“What’s going on? Why isn’t he moving?”
“I don’t know, maybe it has somethin’ to do with that thing on his hand?” A shiver runs down your spine and you wish you were there with him, helping him, instead of watching him fight on a screen from thousands of miles away. Placing your hand on the screen, you lean your head on the box as a tear slips out.
“Please come back to me.”
—-------
Tak feels foggy. Like he’s out of place. He knows he’s walking down a corridor in Belle Reve, but he can’t seem to remember why or how he got there. His hands are stuffed in his jacket pockets and his head hangs low. It all feels off. As he continues to walk down the hallway, he’s quick to spot you and Rick, walking side by side and holding hands. “Hey Flag, (Y/N)!” He jogs down the hall towards the pair of you, who he’s surprised make no move to greet him. Coming to a stop in front of the both of you, a frown falls on his face when he sees the way you stare at your shoes, refusing to look at him and then Rick’s clenching jaw. “What’s wrong?”
Rick is the first to face the Envoy, pushing you behind his large frame and grabbing a fistful of Tak’s jacket, hoisting the man into the air. What the hell? Tak thinks to himself as Rick scowls. “Who the fuck do you think you are showing your face around here? You’re lucky I don’t kill you.”
Tak quickly break’s Rick’s hold on him and shoves the special ops agent back, giving them space. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” his eyes tear away from Rick and fall onto you. “Baby? What’s going on?”
You step out from behind Rick, and push your hair back; dark sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and a pale complexion adorn your face, way different than the one that usually greets Tak. “If I’d known it would always be her, I would’ve kicked you back through the portal myself. I don’t want you around me, Kovacs. Leave me alone, you’ve already done enough damage.” You start to walk away and Tak tries to reach out but is blocked by Rick’s solid frame.
“Look murderer, she told you to leave her alone. Now leave. Her. Alone.” Rick shoves Takeshi back as Tak’s thoughts race. What the fuck is going on? What did I do? Why does this feel wrong?
“(Y/N). Don’t leave. I love you!” Tak falls to his knees, a heavy weight crushing down on him and making it impossible to breathe. His hazel eyes fall to the floor and barely catch the top of your shoes.
“You ruined that, Kesh. I don’t love you anymore. Goodbye.” With that, you take Rick’s hands and walk away and out of Takeshi’s life.
—-------
Harley’s vision slowly starts to come back to her, though still hazy, as she coughs up dust, rubble laying all across her body and her javelin laying in the dirt next to her. Is everything over? Sliding off the hood of the car, she surveys the scene. It’s calm. Too calm. Grabbing the javelin, she starts to skip on the road, the metal weapon swinging back and forth in her hand and despite her joyous attitude, there was still a weird atmosphere. Rounding the corner, she easily spots the cause of the tension.
In the middle of the road their clearly not dead enemy stands over Tak who sits on his knees in a daze, a purple haze clouding him. “What the fuck?” Harley looks down in her hands to her javelin and shrugs. If she can save Flag, she can save Flag 2.0.
Sneaking around the pair, she crouches down beside a rock and peers over. “Why is he not fighting?” Her blue eyes scroll down the elongated weapon. “Should I save him? I think I should.” After a minute, she shrugs and starts creeping up to the person, keeping a low profile and clenching onto her javelin. “He betta like me after this.”
—-------
Tak stares down at his hands covered in blood. What has he done? A hand finds a place on his shoulder causing him to look up, a familiar face greeting him. “You did good, Kesh. I knew you could do it.”
“What did you do? What the fuck did you do?” He stands to his full height and looks down at his sister who smiles with a gleam in her eyes.
“What you’ve always wanted to do. You just finally did it,” she shrugs and gestures to the hall, bodies laying across the floor. Tak’s eyes go wide and he feels like he’s going to puke. He carefully steps over each and every body until a hand sticking up among the rest catches his eyes.
“No, no, no, no.” He crashes to his knees and shoves the bodies aside until he finds yours, eyes wide and dull as blood pours from your mouth. He quickly drags you out from under the bodies and cradles your head to his chest and looks up at Reileen. “What the fuck did you do?!”
Reileen laughs and crouches down, pulling up one of Tak’s hands and showing the bloody knuckles. “I think the question is, what did you do?”
—-------
Harley stands behind the man and taps him on the shoulder, causing him to turn around. “Hey, let go of him, he’s had enough.” She swings the javelin across the side of his face causing him to lose focus and let go of whatever hold he had Tak in. Harley races to Tak’s side and throws the javelin down. Grabbing a hold of either side of Tak’s face, she tried to shake him awake. “Come on hotstuff, wake up.”
The enemy beside them groans in pain but before he could sit up, DuBois has a foot on his gloved hand and a gun aimed at him. “Uh uh, I don’t think so.”
Harley ignores her teammates as she slaps Tak’s face a couple of times, but to no avail. “He won’t wake up! He betta not die! (Y/N) will kill us!” She continues to slap his face as DuBois pulls the glove off of the bloody faced man and places him into a pair of restraints.
“Relax, he’s probably just unconscious.”
—-------
“You’re a monster. You know that?” Wake up, Takeshi. You’re dreaming.
“We’re the monsters, Kesh. We were designed to kill and you did what you’re best at. You killed the enemy.” This isn’t real. Wake up.
“No, I killed my love. You made me kill her. You’re the enemy.” Tak scowls at Reileen as she shrugs, picking at her cuticles.
“When will you realize that we are killing machines? It’s what we do. She was just a bystander who got in the way. Now come, brother. We have work to do.” Reileen stands up and starts to walk down the hallway but stops when she realizes that her twin isn’t following her. “Come on, now.”
Tak shakes his head, his arms holding your dead body close to his. “No. I’m done following you around. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Keshi, please. Please come with me,” Reileen begs, holding out her hand for him to take but he shakes his head.
“No. I’m staying right here. You’ll have to leave without me.” That’s right. Now wake up.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Probably, but I’d rather stay here than go anywhere with you.” Reileen storms out in a blind rage as Tak continues to cradle your face to his chest. Looking down at you, he wipes some of the blood off your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
—-------
Tak jolts awake in a panic and shoots straight up. He looks around and sees the team standing around him with the target in cuffs. Without allowing himself a moment to clear his head, Takeshi marches over to where DuBois is holding the man. “Let me talk to him.” DuBois moves out of the way and hands Tak the instrument that put Tak under. Gripping onto the collar, he stares the person in the eyes. “What did you do to me?”
The man chuckles, spitting in Tak’s face but Tak doesn’t flinch.
“I know your deepest fear now. It will come to pa-” Tak doesn’t let the man finish before he places his own gun - that he had in fact snuck onto the plane - underneath his chin and pulls the trigger, blowing the man’s brains to bits. The squad merely watches in shock. Flag would never do that. But then again, Takeshi is not Rick Flag. He’s Takeshi Lev Kovacs. Which no one on the team would ever doubt again after this.
“Wow, that was bad ass!” Harley comments and this time Tak gives her a nod in acknowledgement. Still shaken up, he grabs his weapons and the tech and starts toward the carrier with only one thought on his mind, to get home to you.
