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@all-the-things-2020: Year of Crossovers
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@ironmandeficiencyââ: Year of Idiots
@keldabe-kriffââ: Year of Small Joys
@missredherringââ: Year of Wishes
@my-life-as-a-birdââ: Year of Speculative Fiction
@never--doubtâ: Year of Soulmates
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@simpingcowboyââ: Year of ABBA
@songsformonkeysââ: Year of Saying I Love You
@surprisenecromancyââ: Year of Occult
@toomanystoriessolittletimeââ: Year of Movie AUs
Long overdue finish to the Small Joys series for @yearofcreation2023
Nothing much. Just a quiet night in with Joel.
Home.
It wasn't a word you ever thought you'd use again. Not since the world fell apart.
Yet here you were, under a dry roof, in a warm bed, at the outskirts of a bustling town. A real town, not the hellscape of a militarized QZ. No curfews. No arbitrary restrictions. Just... community.
And there were books here. Salvaged from old libraries, brought in off and on by patrols, sometimes donated by folks who came from Outside. Your hand hovered over a page, ready to turn it, but a soft snore from next to you made you pause.
That was another bit of strangeness. You and Joel both had been pushing people away for so long, although for different reasons. But now... now...
He'd come over bringing dinner. Found you in your room. It was rainy, you'd told him, and you had gone to bed early. "Gotta eat somethin'," he'd said in a quiet drawl, dragged over the tray table from the living room.
The one he'd made you.
Slowly but surely you'd wormed your way into each other's lives, and now here he was, having cleaned up your dishes, fallen asleep on top of the covers, gentleman-like, while you read a book under them.
No pressure to be anything but yourself. No fuss to entertain. Just two people existing quietly in each other's company.
You glanced back down at the page. This was as good a stopping point as any. Slotting a scrap of paper between the pages, a makeshift bookmark, you set your book off to the side. It could wait until morning.
And you figured if Joel didn't come home, Ellie already knew where he was.
With a soft smile, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time, you turned off the light.
Summary: He reaches out to the woven spell where he can sense the Dreamstoneâs magic and tries to take control back. But now, now, he can finally feel your rising desire coming into play and changing the direction of the magic. Itâs a tug of war between what the two of you want. Itâs heady and dizzying and he canât tell where one starts and the other stops.Â
Warnings: dub-con with dream sex logic. unprotected piv sex. m!on screen and f!off screen masturbation.
A/N: This is the only planned smut scene in the fic, but our duo might surprise me, lol. Max is getting a little desperate here, in more ways than one.
The dream sex logic is a little tricky, so please let me know if I missed any warnings.
Thank you so much to @frannyzooey for your beta reading skills and amazing suggestions. As always, @covetyou thank you for your patience and support as you look over drafts so rough I'm surprised they didn't give you a splinter.
A part of @yearofcreation2023
Divider by @saradika-graphics
Previous - Masterlist - Next
Max stands by the open window, watching the people go by outside. Some are walking their dogs, while others rush through the parking lot with purposeful strides. The cars pull out and join others on the road. Birds chirp as they fly by. A squirrel darts to a nearby tree and disappears up the trunk into the branches.
Itâs an endless stream of life outside, but here in your apartment itâs still.Â
When you summoned him youâd been pouring a steaming cup of tea. The usual music channel was already playing on the TV and for a moment, as his senses came back to him, all he could do was stare as the fabric of your nightdress played hide and seek with your pretty dimpled thighs while you moved around the kitchen to prepare your drink.Â
Youâve settled on the couch, tapping away at the phone that always seems to be in your hand, and thereâs no sign of you preparing to start your day.
Itâs never taken him this long to fulfill the terms of the Dreamstoneâs contracts.Â
Whenever heâs been summoned heâd been focused on the wisher, the magic a force urging him on to its own ends. His mind hasn't been fully his own in a long time, but with a single, simple question he feels awake. He feels human again and a part of him hates it, every time the worry and uncertainty rushes back when he materializes from the stone.Â
âAre you Max Lord?â
From his periphery he sees your cat come into the room and jump up on the couch with you. The phone is immediately put down as you give your full attention to your pet.
The cat walks up the length of your body to settle on your chest, almost nose to nose with you, and starts purring loudly. You pet him and talk to him in a sweet voice.
âHowâd you sleep? Hm? My handsome boy. My sweet baby.âÂ
A car door slams outside, the engine turns over, and another person sets off. Max canât keep the words in even as he tries to adjust the tone.Â
âDo you have plans for today?âÂ
âHmm,â You let out a gusty sigh. âThereâs laundry and cleaning of course. I need to go grocery shopping for the week and stop by the post office, but all that can wait.â
âWhy?â He asks and hopes it comes across as curious instead of needling.Â
âBecause Harry came to me of his own free will and wants some attention. I canât say no to that.â You chuckle when Harry stretches out his neck as you scratch under his chin. âOh yea, thatâs a good one.â
With just a slight turn of his head he takes in the way youâre staring at each other. The cat is looking back at you with equal attention, his body relaxed as he moves up and down with your breathing.
âThereâs nothing I would rather be doing right now,â You stroke a thumb over his cheek, smoothing some fur back into place, and he leans into your touch. âThan being here with him like this.â
The frustration thatâd been rising abruptly stops and sits heavy on his chest.
Max tries to imagine a morning like this for himself: slow and warm and full of affection. He can only remember the overwhelming stress and rushing to meet with the next potential investor or checking the stock market reports again and again to see if Black Gold would go under or if it would survive another day.
Would Alistair have liked a day like this with him? With no real demands of his time except their own whims? He knows what the answer wouldâve been.
He hasn't felt this guilt in a while, but it knows where its home is, beneath his ribs and next to his heart.Â
You take his silence as the end of the conversation and go back to making soft noises at the cat.
More and more, youâre treating him like a roommate and leaving him to his own devices while going about your daily life. You do it again later that day, leaving him in the living room after announcing youâre going to take a nap.
When your bedroom door clicks closed he allows his face to fall from its neutral expression, agitation deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes. He rubs a hand over his chin and looks down at the jewelry that he can no longer remove, the gold bands that are growing heavier every day as the hands of his watch chip away at the time left in this contract.Â
The temptation of the wishes alone hasnât worked like it has on others, but maybe youâll fall for something else.Â
Max settles into the arm chair with his hands linked over his stomach. The air is warm, blowing through the windows, as he clears his mind.Â
He inhales deeply through his nose, focusing on the Dreamstoneâs magic. It too is restless with disuse as it churns in the space between you. He follows the connection to your form, feels the same pulse echoing along your skin, and sinks into the sensation.
The magic guides him in planting the suggestion. Itâs only moments before your unconscious mind accepts it and the dream sequence sweeps over both of you.Â
Heâd thought it would be something simple. A scene out of a dirty VHS thatâd been passed around after late night business meetings. He would be the director, his voice whispering suggestions of how you could make all of it a reality with only two words. But as has become routine with you: your subconscious takes the magicâs suggestion and shapes it into something else.Â
Something he didnât intend at all.Â
The apartment drops away, leaving only your glowing form at the center of a dark void. Youâre spread out on silk sheets, your body bare and relaxed. Â
Between one blink and the next heâs become a part of the scene: the silk sheets cool on his bottom now that theyâre under him and heâs just as naked as you are. He doesnât know what heâs sitting up against, but it doesnât matter as your warm skin presses him further down, your back to his chest you rely on him to support you.
He reaches out to the woven spell where he can sense the Dreamstoneâs magic and tries to take control back, but your rising desire comes into play and changes the direction of his fantasy. Itâs a tug of war between what the two of you want. Itâs heady and dizzying and he canât tell where one starts and the other stops.Â
His body pinning you down into the mattress. Hands wandering, caressing, pressing, digging into giving flesh. He imagines his own scene, something that could leave you desperate enough to make a wish, but you take it over.Â
You sigh and take his hands in yours, guiding them to your breasts. Their weight steadies his hands as they spill between his fingers. He can't hold all of you and it only drives the urge to keep moving and touch more.
He couldnât stop the motions if he tried. Massaging and kneading at the warm skin that moves easily with his touch. Catching your nipples between his fingers and squeezing them gently. His exploration is rewarded with your gasp, with the arch of your back into his chest, and the way your hips rock back into him, nudging at his hardening cock.
Mouths exploring, opening wider and wider in the attempt to cover as much skin as possible. Lips and tongues and teeth marking everything in their path.
Max canât remember the last time he was like this with a lover. He doesn't feel any tension in your body, and thereâs no sign of you counting down the time until itâs been long enough to politely end the engagement. He feels at ease with himself as the pouch of his stomach rolls over when he leans forward to mouth at the tempting line of your neck. Your body is heavy against his, weighing him down in a way he can feel in his bones. Thereâs no room for anything else between your skin and his.
A rough grip at the nape of your neck, pushing you down into the sheets, and lifting your wide hips to meet his. Slipping and gliding along your sex, coating his dick in your desire. The sweet pressure in the first seconds of the initial stretch.
Fingers tangle together in a brief embrace as you take his hand bring it down, placing it between your legs. Instead of leaving him alone there, you caress the soft skin of your inner thigh, gripping it and holding yourself open for him, allowing his big hand room to cup your fat pussy and fill his palm completely. Pubic hair tickling him, you roll your hips, caught between his hand. his cock behind you, and his other hand still working your breast. He waits, framing your vulva with his pointer and pinky fingers and letting his middle fingers play, dipping and stroking but not delving deep enough to find your clit yet, just teasing the seam of your sex. The moan you let out is so close to his ear, the nuzzle at his jaw followed by a press of your lips. Your affection, your approval, makes his head swim even more.Â
Lust traded back and forth between you with every thrust, building and building until it drowns out the pounding of your heartbeat and spills over.Â
Max snaps back to his own body, jerking in the chair and panting to catch his breath. His body is tingling with an awareness he hasnât felt in along time, and itâs all pooling in his lap, where an erection beats an echo of the same lustful suggestions heâd given you.
In your bedroom he can hear the creak of the bed as you shift and he chokes on his breath, groaning low when the quiet whir of a motor starts. You gasp and he can still hear the echo of that same sound ringing in his ears.Â
He drags a hand over his face and into his hair, grabbing a fistful and clenching it in frustration. He gives you a wet dream and instead of coming to him to finish the job, youâre taking care it of yourself. Youâre driving him insane. The next clench of his fist goes straight to his cock and he drops his hand.Â
After that, itâs easy. God, itâs so damn easy for him to unzip his pants and take himself in hand. Already so worked up, it doesn't take much more than imagining that the feeling of his fist hitting his groin is your hips pushing back into him as he fucks you. The soft moans coming from your room spurs him on to a quick orgasm, and as the pleasure peaks and starts to ebb away he sighs.Â
You come out of your room with loose limbs, rumpled clothing, and even messier hair. Just how hard did you press your head back into your pillows, as you sated the desire that had woken you from your sleep? He wants to witness it, to hear those quiet noises youâd made loud in his ears.
He holds himself still until you close the bathroom door behind you and then grabs the tissues from the coffee table. Cleaning up the mess heâd made between his legs, he tries not to think of how youâre doing the same thing. Â
A/N: I am still working on my kiss prompts for @yearofcreation2023. Yeah yeah. I know we are well into 2024. But I am determined to finish these prompts. The prompt for this fic is "Kiss as a lie." This does not connect to any of my other Prospect fics, even though some terms may overlap. Enemies to reluctant allies. Reader is disabled and relies on body mods to assist her breathing. This one really got away from me. like 6K away from me.
Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injuries and medical procedures. Alcohol and drug consumption. Vomiting. Smut but nothing super graphic. Mentions of bodily fluids. This is not my usual Ezra. He is a shit in this one.
 âGive me one good reason I shouldnât splatter your brains all over this bar.â You jam your thrower into the curls at Ezraâs nape. You watch him in the bleared bar mirror, watch the color drain from his face even as he smiles, starts to turn his head and you dig the barrel of the thrower in deeper, feel your finger tightening involuntarily, your need for vengeance vying with your need for satisfaction, for some sort of answer for what he did, finger curls slightly and releases again, Kevva knows you never expected to see him again, Kevva knowsâsomething cold jams beneath the angle of your jaw and you snap back into the present. The bar mirror shows a slight girl with a halo of pale hair and thundercloud eyes, a small, freckled wisp.
 âPut it down,â her voice is soft and steady, âI donât want to hurt you but I will.âÂ
 âWell if this isnât quite the predicament,â says Ezra, âHow but you ease up on the trigger and we talk this out like civilized folk.â
 âYour time for talk ended five stands ago,â Your eyes flick towards the bleary girl in the bar-back mirror, âI donât know what he promised you, kid, but heâll fuck you over the second it makes sense. Youâre what, fifteen stands? When he ditches you on some no-name moon whatâre you gonna do?â The barrel digs deeper into the flesh at your neck. Ezra says your name, not darlin or kitten or sweetheart or any of the slew of names he gave you down on The Green, but the one you told him, the one he murmured against the sweaty column of your throat while you arched beneath him, quivered around him, felt like a blessing from his lips as he spilled fever hot inside you.
 âI did you wrong,â says Ezra, âYou werenât the first and you certainly werenât the last, and, if Iâm being honest, I did not think on you overmuchââ The little girl in the warped mirror shakes her head--
 âEz--â You feel the gun held against your throat tremble.
 âBut these past stands have not been kind,â says Ezra, âTo either of us, I imagine.â His eyes flick up towards your reflection and you know exactly what he sees, and how could he not? Paired auto-breathers clipped to your collarbones, metal and plastic welded to meat in an a scarred seal, ports that can be used for a filter-hookup with the right adapters.
 âSo what? Thatâs the Fringe, isnât it? Thatâs what you told me thenââ
 âHow, exactly, do you imagine this plays out?â says Ezra, âYou kill me, she kills you. Both of us dead here on the deck-plating and whatâs the point of it? Revenge? Satisfaction?â You dig the barrel of your thrower into the meat at the nape of his neck, even as his girl shoves her weapon tighter against the angle of your jaw.
 âOr letâs say I kill you,â Ezra purrs, and you become aware of a buzzing, like a neglected data pad with incoming message against your inner thigh, but that doesnât make sense, data padâs in your left breast pocket and he grins in the mirror, flick your eyes down and damned if he doesnât have a laser scalpel pressed into the meat of your leg, blood corona already spreading, âThink you can make the shot before I clip your femoral artery? You didnât crawl out of Bakhromaâs well to bleed out in this dive, did you?â
 âDamn you, Ezra. You owe me. You left me to die down there.â
 âI did indeed, and if you ease off the trigger for a tick, I can offer your recompense.You think itâs an accident? You and me nested into the same ring? Show her, Cee.â
 âEz, I donât think-â
 âShow her. And Iâll get us some drinks. I think a toast may be in order.â
âYou know what we need to do, when we meet up with the others, right?â You cling to him despite the sticky heat of the tent, air thick and heady with the smell of sex, his come smeared between your bellies as you lay half atop him, head on his chest, his arm curled around your shoulder.
 âI stay on one,â you say, yawning, drifting as he traces aimless patterns up and down your arm, âYou switch to two. Give them the talk. You fake a comms error and go for your channel box. You take the big one and I pick off the leader. The one with the red. Then we get,  we get out of here.â He squeezes you tight as sleep takes you, his heart slow and steady beneath your ear.
 Cee sighs, rolls her eyes, pulls her thrower off your throat.
 âFine,â she says, and reaches for a bag slung at her side.Â
 Ezra hails his crew, and hiss of static on your ear when he switches to two, your thrower in hand, trained on the leader, brilliant red plast pauldron over his exosuit, waiting for the signal, for Ezra to go for his channel box, what is he waiting for? He looks animated, smiling through the fog of his helmet, this is wrong, you think, and he turns, thrower in hand and shoots and the world whites out for a tick, your leg collapses under you and when you lift your head thereâs Ezra, tucking his thrower back into his holster, the press of his boot against your shoulder rolling you on your back from where you curled around yourself, broken nerves screeching around the path of cooked flesh just above your knee. You know whatâs happened, but part of you canât believe itâ
 âHelp me!â You say, met by the hiss of an open channel, he grabs your trophy case and tosses it to his friend, the big man with the railer he was supposed to kill, leans in and reaches for you and for a moment you think this is all some mistake, something that can be made right and he wrenches your filter out of itâs clip, cuts the hose so itâs you and the dust laden atmosphere.
 âWhy?â You ask and know he wonât answer, makes a big pantomime of tapping his helmet and shaking his head. Your eyes scrim over with tears, the cooked nerves in your leg screaming a wordless anthem, âPlease.â Ezra bows his head but still smiles, presses his gloved fingers to his helmet and  blows you a kiss , thatâs the fringe, girl, even with comms cut you can make out the words, and then he turns away, walking off into the brush with his crew.Â
 âCarom-burned pearl,â you say, mouth taking over while your brain runs wild, this gem is trash, sure, but the sizeâ âSo what?â You drop your thrower back to your hip without even thinking on it. Impossible to tell the quality with the membrane half-burned into the surface, but stillâ
 âDonât play stupid.â says Cee, âYou were on The Green. You know what youâre lookin at.â
 âI know that I am looking at a botched pull,â you say, âIâm also looking at a little girl who thinks sheâs found a friend way out here in the ass-end of the Great Arm. Did he give this to you, spring-sprite? Spin you a tale of buried treasure? He promise you an even splitââ
 â60/40. My way. 16th per point garnishment to clear his debt,â she says, âEzra works for me.â  You laugh, a real one deep from your belly and the intake fans, your intake fans whir faster to make up for the perceived oxygen debt, vibrations through your bones that you canât seem to get used to even after all these stands,Â
 âOh, honey, I was gonna kill him, but now I donât think I will. Think Iâll let you reap the consequences here. Me and Ez? Weâre done.â
 âItâs the Queenâs Lair,â says Ezra, and you stop cold, half-way up off of your stool, seep back down like your legs have forgotten themselves. âI know. I know youâll never believe me, but we were there.â
 âYou just happened on it right? Just happened to drop right down in the place that every fool and their brother went hunting for on that Kevva-forsaken rock.â
 âNot me,â says Ezra, âCeeâs father.â
 âSo why isnât it him making the pitch?â
 âHe didnât make it,â says Cee. And you nod. Spacerâs phrase for a constellation  of mishaps. A blown hull. A dust infection. An altercation in some shit station bar over points or pussy or any number of things. An invitation to not ask. âIt wasnât even really him that found itââ
 âCeeââ
 âMy father was contracted to harvest for Karoclan. Group of mercs found the Lair by accident. Probably digging a shit-pit. We landed bad. By the time we made it to the site it was just me and Ezra, and things got complicated.â
 âComplicated.â
 âWe had to fight our way out. We barely made the sling.â
 âYou couldnât do the job,â you say, âAnd you know I can.â
 âThatâs not-â
 âShe never learned the trick and I was trying to cut the blisters weak-handed,â says Ezra, âThatâs why we need you.â
 âYou went back there. Even after all you took from me. You couldâve gone somewhere better with your cut but you didnât. You got addicted to the rush.â
 âI did,â says Ezra.
 âMe and Ezra and now you are the only people that know the Queenâs Lair is even real,â says Cee, âWe go there, we get a good pull and we can live off it for years. Now that the lineâs dead the valueâs just gonna go up. We get the pearls and trickle them into the marketââ
 âHowâre we gonna get there with the line dead? No one makes the BG sling anymore. They just route everything around Ikhar andââ
 âGot a hot-jumper willing to take us for a cut.â Says Ezra, âWe ride the line till just after the Ikhar sling and then unclip and burn. Gets us in orbit in 6 stand months.â
 âRisky,â you say, tapping you index and middle fingers against your right breather, vibration passing from metal into bone, a nervous habit born out of a rerouted urge to scratch at the healing skin.
 âYeah. But if we do it right, if we play it smart, none of us will have to drop down some Kevva-shunned well for a hand of points ever again. We can have the lives that sharp-toothed bitch moon took from us.â
 âLike you didnât have a part in itââ Ezra reaches across the sticky bar and folds your hand in hisâ
 He grabs you under the arms, woah there girlie, this is bad ground, yanks you back, so focused on the pull that you didnât feel the ground shifting beneath you, grab your gear and hold it to your chest even as youâre pulled back from the rapidly forming sink-hole in the loamy dirt, draw your thrower and whirl on the stranger, your gear scattered all around your feet. Donât fuckin touch me.
 Is that anyway to talk to someone who just saved your life? Whatâre you doing out here all alone anyway?Â
 who says Iâm alone?
 You got crew? Raise âem on coms. Yeah thatâs what I thought. Gonna get killed out here all alone.
 âI had every part in it,â says Ezra. âThe breath of your lungs, Ceeâs only living kin, and the arm from my own body. All victim to my greed and stupidity and short-sightedness. I used you and I duped you and robbed you and left you to die and Kevva rightly and thoroughly kicked my ass for it. If not for Cee I would have breathed my last in that forsaken jungle-â You yank your hand away as if burned.
 âYou do not touch me,â you say, âWe are not friends, we are not lovers. That part is over. Forever. We clear?â
 âClear,â says Ezra, that infuriating little half-smile crawling up his cheek, âThat mean youâre in?â
 âMaybe.â
 Didnât realize how loud those fans were gonna be.
 Maybe youâd like me to suffocate about it.Â
Â
 Does she ever turn that player off?
 Do you ever turn your breathers off?
 Not the same.
 To her it is.
 Whatâs with you and her? You arenât kin. You said you cost her only kin. In that pretty speech you gave me so I wouldnât shoot you.
 That is a complicated and lengthy tale.
 Weâve got time.
 âEzra? I donât like this.â Cee eyes the blue gel pack in her hand.
 âOnce the bolts release Jadaâs gonna burn hard,â says Ezra, âSheâs got mods to deal with the pain and sickness, but we donât. If we donât dope down, weâre gonna be in a world of hurt.â
 âPeopleâve died,â you say, and Ezra shoots you a dark look that you give right back, âThey go into shock sometimes. Donât wanna risk that right?â
 âItâs not addictive, if thatâs what youâre worried about,â says Ezra, âWeâve got a sixteenth to take it and have it work. You go past that and itâs your choice, Little Bird.â Ceeâs eyes flick from your face to his, and you wonder how youâve slipped into caring for this girl, this orphan of Ezraâs making, how you became someone sheâd look to in a place of indecision.Â
 âIâve never hot-jumped myself, but I was crew with a man who was on a prison transport that did,â you say, hoping the grain of truth in the story will be enough to get Cee to chomp down on that gel pack when the time comes. You heard the story second hand on over drinks on Leylan bench, but Cee doesnât need to know that. âThey didnât bother doping down the prisoners. Guess they didnât want to spend the points. Aggie said him and most of the others exploded from both ends. It wasnât nice. Hallucinated on top of that if I remember right. Hot jump fucks with people.â
 âHeard some of those tales myself,â says Ezra. âJadaâs a professional. Sheâs so modded up she canât handle a drop down a well anymore. She wants her cut weâve got to be her hands. Itâs not in her interest to lead us wrong.â
 âWe got a sixteenth?â
 âYeah, but how bout we get ourselves secure and do it all together?âÂ
 âOkay,â says Cee. The three of your wordlessly prep, following the instructions Jada gave you on boarding. Wear something soft. No jewelry, nothing rigid. These, Jada had flicked a finger against Ceeâs music player, are a no-go. The crash beds have plenty of give but Iâve seen people come out the other side with holes in em from fancy buttons on their pants. These gonna be a problem?  Jada eyed your breathers and poked at one with a questing finger. How longâve you had em? Bout five stands. Should be fine then. Boneâs had time to remodel and deal with the extra mass. Youâll be sore though. You remove the ring your mother gave you before you left the well, remove the studs from your ears, don the softest clothes you have. Cee wears an over sized shirt with Puzo in his space suit, long, coltish legs and bare feet sticking out. Her toenails are painted an alarming sparkly green, and your heart squeezes a little. She may have shoved a thrower into your neck but she is still very much a little girl.Â
 âWe ready?â
 âThis is gonna taste bad isnât it?â
 âMost likely,â says Ezra, âWe bite down on a three count, yeah?â Cee scrunches her face, tucks the gel pack into her cheek and you and Ezra do the same.
 âReady? One, two, three-â
 âOh that is nasty-â says Cee. You crunch down and swallow the drug in a convulsive gulp, bitter medicinal taste beneath something that is supposed to taste like bananas. Not that youâve ever seen or eaten one.
 âThat is justâwrong.â You feel sleep sucking at your bones, and you can hear the sound of the hot-jumperâs engineâs spooling up, a bright spike of anxiety tries to lodge itself in your chest, familiar whir of your breathers kicking up as your heart rate rises and then the drugs take you down.Â
 Come to with a raging headache,  Ezra and Cee are already awake and at the controls.Â
 âHere,â says Cee and tosses you a pack of stim-chews, âJust do one. Itâll kill the headache.â You crunch one, sickly fruit and bitter and you feel a little more alert, but not in a pleasant way, like remembering the last bits of a long and unpleasant dream, not sure exactly what happened, but there was blood and horror and pressure.
 âSomething happenedââ
 âThatâs the drugs,â says Ezra, âTelemetryâs good. Weâre right down the line. Five by. Took you a little longer to come out of it, thatâs all.â You try to sit yourself up, and your pectoral muscles scream, your clavicles ache where the breathers are clipped to them. You must make some sound, because Ezra turns to look at you, those dark eyes locked on you and you want to slap that concerned face right off his skullâ
 âYou okay?â
 âYeah. Gimme a minute. Jada said it would hurt.âÂ
 âShouldâve said something, Kitten, I wouldâve gotten you a patchââ
 âIâm not your kitten, and itâs not your business.â
 âYouâre right,â says Ezra, âitâs not my business. But we go hot in a sixteenth and Iâll need you sharp. You know what you need to do?â
 âDo you?â
 âHow bout both of you shut up and focus on the drop,â says Cee, âYou can fight it out once weâre clipped back in and bench-bound.â
 âFair enough, Little Bird,â says Ezra, âYou take the conn, Cee. Your controls.â
 âMy controls,â echoes Cee.Â
 âWhereâs the pain?âÂ
 âClavicles. Achy around the breathers. I donât think anythingâs fractured-â
 âHere,â says Ezra. He hands you two pain patches. âPeel these and Iâll stick em.âÂ
 âFine.â You open one patch and then the other, stick them to your fingertips and hold up your hand for Ezra to take them. Scoop your hair out of the way and Ezra smooths the gel-patch on to the join of your neck and shoulder.
 âThere you go. Letâs get the other side.â His hand lingers, brief and warm and before you can tell him not to touch you he withdraws. âThat should keep you creamy until weâre dirt-side. Donât be shy about takin what you need from the kit. Need you steady downworld, we clear?â
 âClear.â
 This feels nothing like a normal drop, not the warning alarm and dull thump of bolts retracting. Going hot means a hand of solid fuel boosters will push you screaming towards the Green Moon, igniting as soon as the clips let go, push you away from the hot-jumper without slowing, vibration shaking the dropper in a sick two part resonance that hurts your ears and churns your stomachâ
 âOi! chute statusâ Lock your eyes on the jittering screens.
 âBolts are go. Drogues are go. Weâre go.â You flip up the toggle guards and hold your fingers above the switches. The thrusters fire and the dropper rocks, flipping itself so the engines face down, watch the numbers on your screen go green and listen for the calloutsâ
 âHeat shield sep!ââ
 âTracking?â
 âWeâre clear! Go for drogue deploy on your markââ The switches vibrate beneath your fingers, you feel the vibrations in your skull, in your bones, strange resonance in your ears that churns your stomach, crush your eyes shut so you donât have to see the way the screens jitter in and out of focus.Â
 âThatâs atmoââ says Cee.
 âBlow the drogues in 3..2âŚ1âŚmarkââ You flip the toggles and lurch forward hard into your harness, and then back into your crash-couch as the landing burn starts. âWhere we atâ?â
 âTransonic,â you say, numbers blearing green on the scope, âweâre green.â  Hook a bag from where its stickied to your seat and wretch into it, smell of fake chocolate half-digested Bitz-Bars and jump drugs. Grav and spin enough to fuck your inner ears, and the engines burn hard,Â
 âLanding gear deployââ calls Cee. Thereâs a hard thump and youâre down and stable but your roiled stomach and pounding skull and tight neck betray you and you dry heave while the others gear up.
 âGimme a minute,â you say, pressing your eyes closed, trying to get some sort of control over yourself, âHavenât done much well-work sinceâ sinceâ,â heave helplessly over the bag but nothing comes up, thereâs nothing too come up. Ezra rests his hand your arm.Â
 âHey. Look at meââ You try to lift your head, and the world starts spinning again, too much time station-side, too much time in the gentle, predictable spin of bench-rings, your bodyâs forgotten the suck of the world on your bones, on your blood on your lungs
 âCanât,â you crush your eyes shut, welcome dark nulling out some of your screaming nerves.Â
 âOkay,â says Ezra in the roiling dark, âOkay, Baby, I need you to breathe real deep through your nose for me.â
 âNot your babyââ
 âI know,â he says, âDeep breath. Through your nose. One, two, three--â  You breathe in, left over bitz bar chunks making their presence known, irritation followed by something numbing and cool and slightly spicy, you stomach calms but sweat breaks out all over your body--
 âIs this even gonna work?â Cee glares, hands on hips, mostly suited.
 âFinish kitting up and start scouting the perimeter,â says Ezra, âStay on two unless I tell you different. Weâll be out shortly.â Cee narrows her eyes, but does what sheâs told, seals her helmet and clips her filter and steps through the hatch, brief breeze of equalizing pressure, scrubbers kicking up to deal with the dust as do the fans clipped into you. When the seals cycle Ezra hands you a styrette.Â
 âThisâll kill the nausea. Also you wonât be able to shit for a half-hand or so. Itâs intramuscularâ
 âIâve given myself hot-shots before,â you slide your pants down and jab the styrette into the meat of your thigh. Ezraâs eyes flick away.
 âCeeâs funny about chemical help,â says Ezra, âHer father was an addict you see. Heâd dope down and then stim awake and it scares her so-â
 âLetâs just suit up and do the job,â you say, baring your back to Ezra so you can don the compression garments that go under your suit. The suitâs a custom-job to accommodate your breathers, filter clipped into a hose split and spliced three ways, clean air for your breathers to pass on to your dust-scarred lungs, and another than clips in to your helmet. Settle your mic-rig over your ear.
 âChannel two how read?â
 âChannel two clear,â says Cee.
 âTwo clear,â says Ezra, odd doubling of his voice through your rig and through your helmet. And then the channel goes dead. Hollow thump of Ezraâs fishbowl pressed against yours.Â
 âCan we do a suit check right quick?â His voice muffled by his helmet and yours, âI think iâve got it, but Iâd likeââ
 âTurn around.â
 âCee usuallyââÂ
 âIâve got it.â He turns his back to you and you lift the loose fabric off the back seal, two twist catches with hook and loop for the outer seal. You tighten the right side catch and smooth everything else into place.
 âThank you,â he says, âYou need checks?â
 âNo, Iâm green.â
 âTheyâre still hereââ Ceeâs voice loud and overdriven through your rig and Ezra bolts for the hatch. You shove yourself into the nacreous light, Bakhroma hanging above, itâs curve spanning the sky like a diseased rainbow, pulsing through thick clouds and the endless fall of dust.Â
 âTheyâre dead, Birdie! Look! Theyâre just bones in suits. They canât hurt us, okay?â You turn your back on them. Ceeâs breath loud and ragged on two.
 âOkay,â says Cee, âMâokayâI justâ
 âWhat the Kevva be-cursed fuck?â A plast box rises out of the tall grass, curled around in flowering vines inside and out, a skeleton inside seated on a small bench, glints of gold and bones stained a livid, unnatural pink.
 âHe got back in the box,â says Cee, âWhy would he do that? He let us go and then he got back in the box.â
 âKaroclan,â says Ezra, âAn oblation I suppose.â Your neck prickles.Â
 âThose folk are fuckin crazy,â You press the back of your hand to your helm and push away, palm out, a gesture to dispel bad luck, canât rightly remember where you picked it up.
 âLook,â says Cee,â standing in a bare, cracked circle of dirt, âThis is where we boosted from. Mustâve baked out the soil.â
 âHey. Letâs get the pull. We can get all nostalgic once we boost.â Ezra gives you a dark look, but Cee, bounds past and into the trench.Â
 âEzra,â she says, her voice flat, even over coms. You and Ezra catch up to where sheâs frozen, stone still, âHeâs still here. Why is he still here? Why are they still here? Itâs been almost a stand.â You push past Ezra and examine the sprawled and sagging suit, nudge the boxy helm with you boot, rotted breather hoses crumbling, dust floating up.
 âAre you gonna get your shit together or not?â Cee flinches. Glares at you through her fishbowl. Ezra scowls.
 âI hardly thinkââ
 âIâm here to harvest,â you say, âAnd I will harvest, but I am not doing it alone unless you alter the split.â
 âYouâre out of line, Kitten,â says Ezra, âYou seem to have forgotten whoâs hired you on for this ventureââ
 âItâs okay,â says Cee, âIâm okay. Third time pays for all, right?â
 âThird time pays for all,â says Ezra, âClear.â
 âSo lets dig,â says Cee, âFuck these guys, right?â
 âFuck âem.â you say, âWeâre gonna get rich while these fellas feed the bugs for the next stand and change.â
 The kips that came before you exposed the leading edge of the deposit, oxidized crusts shimmering in Bakhromaâs murky light.Â
 âThey didnât prime any of this?â
 âThey didnât know to do so,â says Ezra. âThat one over thereââ Ezra jerks his head towards a blood colored suit with faux gold adornments glimmering through a twisted clutch of creeper-vines, âGot himself acid burned for his troubles.â
 âDry breach.â
 âSomething like.âÂ
 This is no hurried dig, this is no quick pull and boost, Jada has her heart set on atmo-skimming around the outer moons before hooking back up. Trying to break some record. Ezra hovers at first, flitting around the perimeter youâve established, light poles stabbed into the boggy ground, and then gets drawn in to the excitement of the pull, peering over your shoulders as you and Cee work. Cee is a quick study, follows your instructions to the letter, and between her hands and yours? The size and clarity is like nothing youâve seen.
 âThis makes what we got last time around look like pea gravel,â you say.Â
 âWeâre going to have a weight issue,â says Ezra.
 âDo we stop?â asks Cee.
 âAbsolutely not,â says Ezra, âWe keep pulling and take the highest grade with us. And then we chem-burn what ever we leave behind.â
 âThatâs crazy!â says Cee.
 âThink on it,â says Ezra, âWe burn it behind us and no one else can get ahold of these gems ever again. Not at the size and quality weâre pulling.â You split the fibrous outer husk and Cee squeezes in the diffuser without being asked, and you feel yourself smile.
 âThe scarcity sets the price,â you say, âWeâre the only folk who know about this deposit. No one will ever know we scorched it.â
 âBut all these pearlsââÂ
 âNo one knows about them,â says Ezra, âOnly us and Jada and she canât ever drop down here herself. And some hot jumper hits a bench blatting about buried treasure on a world they canât touch? Only ads to the mystique and rarity, and the points in our accounts.â  âEnough to get me into the Academy? Youâre laughing,â she frowns at you, âwhyâre you laughing?â
 âBecause this is fuck you money,â you say, âWe play this right you can probably buy yourself a station-ring or five somewhere in Central. This is do whatever we want forever kind of money if we keep our heads.â
 âSheâs right,â says Ezra, âWe play the long game and thereâll be precious little we canât do.â
 âStill want to go to the Academyâ says Cee, peeling the outer husk away just like you showed her and backing off so you can cut the carom blisters, but there is a tub full of the biggest pearls youâve ever laid eyes on hardening in the fazer.
 âAnd so you shall,â says Ezra.
 âYou do this one.â
 âYou sure?â
 âYouâve been watching me excise blisters all cycle. Give it a go.â Cee turns the pinkish mass one way and then another, jaw clenched in fraught concentration, trying to grip without touching the blister, the trick is to slide the blade under and cut it free from beneath, go in at the wrong angle and the cillia react, defensive mechanism.Â
 âWhatâre you gonna study at the academy?â You ask, and her face loosens up some, her hands do the work theyâve been trained in, pulls the inner husk tight and slides the blade under the blister.
 âIâm thinking a botany/anthropology double major,â she says, flicks the blister into the weeds like sheâs done it a million times before.
 âHuh,â you say.
 âInteresting combination, Birdie,â says Ezra. âWhat ties the two together?â Cee slices another blister and flicks it away, brief curl of steam where it sizzles in the grass.
 âWhat doesnât?â says Cee, âWhy do people bring certain plants from one world to the next? You remember the orchard we saw on Verres? Someone planted those trees there. Donât you wanna know who and why?â
 âGuess so,â says Ezra, âIt was a bit creepy seeing all those trees in lines. Verres being classed unihabited and all.â
 âIâve seen stuff like that too. Folksâve been screwing around in The Great Arm for a long time-â
 âHey! Fazer!â Cee barks and you squeeze the fluid into the cut, watch the husk curl and shrink away.Â
 âThere she is,â says Ezra and the three of you look at Ceeâs prize, held aloft in the murky daylight, Bakhromaâs ruddy arc taking up most of the sky.
 âNot the best one weâve pulledââ
 âThis oneâs mine,â says Cee, snatches the squeeze and coats the pearl before tucking it into her suit pocket, slow smile creeping up her face, âThis is my fuck you pearl. We make it out of here and Iâll use it as a paperweight if I get into the Academy.â
 âWhen you get into the Academy,â says Ezra, and Cee rolls her eyes, and you feel yourself smile a little. You like Cee.Â
 âYou should do one, Ezra,â says Cee, âYou peel it down and Iâll hold it for you.â
 âI donât thinkââ
 âGive it a go,â you say,  âGet yourself a fuck you pearl.â
 Ezra eyes the exposed deposit, an irregular honeycomb of aurelac pores, dirt darkened to mud, sprayed water from the onboard tanks to rinse away the caustic slime.Â
 âIn for a penny in for a pound,â he says, just loud enough for the mic rig to pick up and shoves his arm inside. His breath comes ragged over two.
 âEzra?â
 âIâve got it, birdie. Itâs a big one,â he says, and Cee slices through the dirt flecked umbilicus. Ezra cradles his prize like a kitten then sets it on the tray. Cee gives it a good rinse like sheâs been trained to, pinches the outer husk and rolls it between her gloved fingers, loosening it up from the inner husk so Ezra can cut.Â
 âItâs thick,â says Cee, âYou got wiggle room. We got time. Itâs not like before.â Ezraâs breath steadies and he cuts, splitting the fibrous husk, slow, careful movements, beads of sweat popping out on his brow.  Cee peels the husk away, like taking off a sock and you douse everything with the diffuser. Ezra primes the blade, waits for it hit the right setting and then freezes, sharp edge glinting in the ugly light as his hand shakes. Cee wraps her hand around his wrist.Â
 âYouâve got this.â
 âOkie. Yeah. Letâs give her a go. Third time pays for all, right?â
 âThird time pays for all.â
 One half-stand laterâŚ
 Pain is the first thing, deep, sprained ache in your chest, thirst is second, thirst and taste in your mouth and nose like burnt rubber, third is a warm hand holding yours. Squeeze your fingers around a warm palm, around a plastic handle with a button on top that you press and then thereâs no more ache, no more thirst, no more light shining blood ugly through your closed lids.
 Later. You come back to yourself. The pain is less and the thirst is more. Slit your eyes and cram them shut, dark blob leaning over you haloed in screaming light, the hand holding yours lets go.
 oh, shit, let me douse the lights.
 And the bloodshine through your eyelids stops. Blink the tears out, and Ezraâs face resolves out of the dark his face pinched with worry.
 âOh Kevva, Iâm dead.â His eyes go big and then he brays laughter.Â
 âFraid not, Kitten. Might not feel like it right now but the head nurse assured me that youâre healing well.â  You close your eyes, and press the button that will kill the pain.Â
 âWhyâre you here?â
 âCee was worried. She keeps tabs on both of us. She couldnât make it herself, sheâs up to her eyeballs in her new school, she tested in andââ Sleep is calling, the ache in your chest dying to a low hum.
 Whyâre you really here? not sure if you say it or think it, and the drugs call you down before you can figure it out.
 thirsty.
 âCan you sit? Iâve got you.â His arm curls warm around your back and tilts you up, plastic straw pressed against your lip and you drink deep, frigid water against your raw throat.
 âSlow sips,â says Ezra, âDonât want to shock your stomach.â One arm holds you up, a hand offers you a cool drink. You blink your eyes open, confusion  and cool water against your dry  tongue wake you some, close your lips around the straw and drink deep before Ezra snatches it back, plastic bottle gripped in an intricately articulated prosthetic hand, burnished metal plating like the scales on a snake's belly, telltales and indicators winking, etched over with decorative grooves, circles and curves. Looks a bit like a nav map.Â
 âSlow,â he says. You narrow your eyes at him and swish the water around your mouth, trying to wash the dryness, the foul taste away before swallowing.Â
 âYou didnât go for a regrow?â Your voice sounds lower than usual, ratchety. Ezra shakes his head.
 âToo much nerve damage for that,â he says, âScarring and time passed.â You reach for the bottle and he puts it in your hand
 âSlow,â  you say before he can, âI know. Ezra, why are you here? You got your new arm, I got my breathers out and Ceeâs got her schooling. We got the agreement set. Third time pays for all, so why are you here?âÂ
 âCause I did you dirtier than that cache of pearls could ever pay for,â says Ezra, âAnd you shouldnât be all on your own right now.â
 You want to say something back, but youâre so tired, even the act of speaking has made you tired right down to your bones, chest and throat screaming in protest, and your eyes scrim over with tears. One escapes and Ezra strokes it aside with the pad of his thumb. Â
 âI pushed the call button, Kitten, theyâll be here soon.â
 âNot your fuckin Kitten,â you say as Ezra folds your hand warm in his, âNot your friend.â
 âI know.â
 i know.Â
Â
Â
This one probably does require reading the original fic; you can find it here
FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER with Holly
W/C 1400ish
WARNING: angsty, dead wife, ghost, that's about it.
A/N Welcome to my very late November installment for @yearofcreation2023 (a fantastic notion by @oonajaeadira.)
Frankie climbs the steps of the 400-year-old cemetery, this time with his daughter, Julieta. Snow has been falling for a good twenty minutes, and last night's snow crunches underfoot. Itâs not unheard of to have snow in November in the Northeast, even if itâs becoming more rare. Itâs been a little more than a year since Frankieâs first visit with Holly. It only takes a moment before she falls into silent step with them. Slipping between them, as they seem to have left space for her, she takes each of their gloved hands in her bare ones.
âOh jellybean, I'm so glad you came," Holly brings her daughter's hand to her cold cheek, then turns to her husband, âYou came.â
âYeah.â
âBut not just to say hello.â
âYeah,â Frankie looks at his wife, looking just as she did in life. This isn't going to be easy. âI've- I-â
Holly smiles, right up to her eyes -
âYou've met someone.â
Frankie just gives a tight smile, she always makes things easier, he should have remembered. His eyes go bright, and he rubs his face with his free hand.Â
âDarling, that's truly wonderful. You deserve it, Frankie. And you deserve a mama.â
âI only have one mama, but I like her,â Julieta says.Â
as they reach the top of Burial Hill the wind kicks up, snow swirling unable to decide which way is down. They are alone, no dog walkers, no couples taking in the view. It's beautiful but cold.
âWe just wanted to tell you that. I donât know, I couldn't just⌠not without your blessing.â
âYou know my answer,â Holly says, giving Frankie a chilly kiss on the cheek, he shivers and smiles. âTell me all about her.âÂ
Frankie tells Holly where you are from, what you do⌠how he feels when he's with you. Julieta shares stories of the first time you came to her soccer game, and how you make the best hot chocolate- with a quick apology, meaning no offense to Hollyâs cocoa. To which Holly gifts them with the hearty laugh they love so well.Â
âYou aren't offending me, jellybean, it comes from a box! But watch out, I hear the Swiss Miss gets migh-ty jealous!â
âWe told her all about you. She wants to come and visit,â Julieta says, swinging Holly's arm as they walk and hold hands.
Holly looks at Frankie, then at Julieta-
âMe me? Or my -â Holly nods at the white gravestone a few paces away.Â
âI told her I talk to you a lot, and about that time last fallâŚâÂ
âYou did?â
âYeah, and she wasn't weirded out at all. She doesn't expect you to come to her- make yourself um⌠known. She just wants to put a wreath on your grave, pay her respects.â
You sat in the little coffee place on the main street, mindlessly stirring your tea, watching the windows for Frankie and Julieta. The wreath you made of blue spruce, juniper berries, pine cones, and of course, holly, a wide white grosgrain ribbon tied in a single fluffy bow sits on the seat next to you. You don't expect to see Holly. No. But you figure she'll hear you⌠you thought about all the things you wanted to tell her, trying to imagine being at the receiving end of it. As if you are the one who lost her life, the love of her life, and the apple of her eye⌠you close your eyes, a small tear slips down.Â
Are you being weird? Performative?Â
Just then you see the two most important people to come into your life, saving you from spiraling.
They wave. Frankie gives Julieta some money and kisses her head, then comes to your table while his daughter goes to the counter. He kisses your forehead and sits, âJules is ordering us a warm-up. It's freezing up the hill. The wind.â
You nod, and another sneaky tear rolls down.
âHey,â Frankie's brows knit together, âare you- did something happen?â
Frankie looks around for the culprit. You huff a smile at his protectiveness. You found yourself a bulldog, complete with soft, sad brown eyes, who loves his belly rubbed.
âI'm just- it's an emotional day. I guess.â
âI guess it is,â Frankie nods.
After hot chocolate and coffee (and the cookie the size of Jules' face), everyone is warmed up and bundles up to climb back up the hill.
Holly keeps her distance this time, watching the three of you reach the crest of the hill. Frankie puts his hand on your lower back, guiding you on the snow-covered brick path toward Hollyâs stone. Holly pines for that hand, warm and solid on the small of her back, just one more time. Pearly tears spill over. She isn't jealous, well, that's not true. Holly is envious of you; she's just not angry with you. She feels swindled, but not by you. You are again bringing joy to her husband and child, love and care that Holly can not provide anymore. She's grateful for you, just incredibly sad for herself.Â
Holly pops over to the stone, their destination, and continues observing you. You have kind eyes, carrying a rueful smile. At least now it is, understandably, but Holly can see the shadow of crinkles around your eyes and laugh lines. You have a lovely wreath. If Holly had to picking one out of a million for herself, she would have chosen that one.Â
You look at Jules and kiss her brown curls; they look at Frankie like you're looking for some help. He gives your hand a squeeze.
âIt's a beautiful stone,â you murmur. Frankie puts a little rod, like a shepherd's hook, in the ground before it. Since itâs so early in the season, the ground isn't frozen hard despite the snow. Then, you hang the wreath on it.Â
âThank you for your family,â you say, and then cringe a little; Frankie kneels next to you, taking your hand in his. He nods.
âI'mâŚâ you look at them with pleading eyes.
Julieta takes your other hand and introduces you. You kiss a thank you on her temple.
âI just wanted to come and give my respects, to um, tell you that I love your husband, and your kid here is a delight. By the photos all over the house, I can see she is the perfect combination of the two of you. I just wanted t-to assure you that they will be cared for, I hope nearly so well as when they were with you. Because, I can see your love everywhere in that house. The nursery room mural you painted full belly pregnant with Jules here, Frankie's shown me photos of your gardens. And the recipe book you put together b-before⌠everything, so Frankie could make all his and Julietaâs favorites. I can't replace you, of course, no one can. But I hope - well, I just-â
You look up at the white stone, your knees cold in the snow but your face hot, trying to find the words.
Holly moves to stand behind the headstone, looking down at your worried face, and puts out her hand. You blink. A graceful hand suddenly appears before her stone, right between the carved words wife and mother. Your eyes slowly follow the wrist, then arm, to the face of Holly Morales.Â
After a small gasp, you take her outstretched hand and stand. Frankie and Jules slowly follow.
âThank you for loving my family,â Holly says, placing her other hand over yours. You can feel the seeping cold through your glove, but you feel no reason to shiver. Her eyes are so full of love and gratitude and grace. âI am entrusting them in your care.â
âI do,â you say, âI mean, am, I will love and care for them with all my heart.â
âand let them care for you, and love you,â Holly so wisely adds.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes.
âI will.â
Holly looks at Jules, hand grazing her cheek. Her eyes travel to Frankie's, his tears falling freely. Unnoticed, the snow had stopped falling, and sunshine fought its way past the clouds. Only noticed now when a shaft brightened the hill, causing a swirl of snow caught on the wind to sparkle like diamonds. And in that shimmer of snow and light, Holly is gone.
Frankie presses a kiss to your temple.
âShe likes you.â
THANKS FOR READING! đ
Year of Creation: the Wheel of the Year Masterlist
MAIN MASTERLIST
If you care to be tagged for any of my works, my taglist form can be found here! I've added my Year of Themed Creations Series
580 words - belated November entry for @yearofcreation2023
NMS!Din notices you missing one of your favorite early signs of winter, and decides to do something about it.
For the third morning in a row, you were staring morosely out the window, as if you expected to see something and it wasn't there. He tried so hard not to pry, but something was worrying at you. As you sighed and spun to go get ready for work, Din set a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Can you at least tell me what's wrong?"
The sentence finished even as he felt you jolt under his touch. You hadn't realized he was watching you. "Oh... it's... silly really." He tilted his head. Waited. "It's just... by this time of year it should have snowed already. Not a lot. But by this part of November we should at least have some."
He didn't have an answer to that. But as you got your things and rushed out the door, his eyes scanned toward the ice maker in your fridge. It would be a pain in the ass, and probably take all day, but maybe... if it put a smile on your face, it would be worth it.
Several rounds of ice later he realized he hadn't thought this through. Nor considered the limitations of your ice maker. He'd called Jed, who was wildly approving of the idea and hauled over a chest freezer he said was usually used to store meat, but he was between seasons so it was empty.
It was about half full with ice shavings. All hand shaved with his vibroblade.
Jed had, momentarily, suggested the food processor but it was a no-go. It made something more like slush than snow, and Din decided that simply wasn't good enough. You had specifically said snow. And he intended to deliver.
By the time you got home it was dark. It was below freezing. Jed and the freezer, therefore, were gone, the "snow" carefully placed in the backyard, with just a tiny amount balanced just above the door. Din set himself up in the yard to wait for you.
When you opened the door, the only one to greet you was Baxter, batting a stray ice cube all over the hardwood floor. You picked your way through the house, looking for Din. Noticed the back light was on. Frowning, you headed for the back door, confusion etched in your features. Hand on the doorknob, you opened. Something white drifted down in front of your face.
"What the-?"
The forecast had been clear. No chance of snow. At all. But there was Din, standing in a pile of it. He spread his arms wide. "So?"
You felt your jaw drop. "Din... how?"
"It wasn't easy."
You spun around in wonder. Pressed him for more. He told you the idea he'd started with. That Jed had helped.
"Din... you made snow for me!?" You dropped down into the pile of it, sifting it between your fingers. You could tell now, close up, that it was shaved ice, not snowflakes. But... "Shit you did this by hand? This must have taken all day!"
Never in a million years would you have dreamed of it. That this man had literally fallen from the sky to wind up in your life...
You started to say more, but Din wasn't looking at you anymore. He was looking up, expression filled with disbelief.
New flakes were falling.
Real ones.
You held back your laughter until he started, more and more snow falling from the sky. "I don't kriffing believe it. Nine hours and now it starts snowing."
Summary: Working the night shift on New Year's Eve isn't really that bad, especially not when it's Peggy you're spending time with.
flower and meaning: mistletoe || love, good luck, healing
Note: this is my december fic for the @yearofcreation2023! i know it's technically 2024, but it's been so fun to write things for this challenge, and i really pushed myself to finally complete the year's collection. this month's flower was mistletoe, and i wanted to play on the meanings of it without necessarily doing something that includes the act of a mistletoe kiss, and i had fun writing this :)
Year of Flowers Masterlist ⢠Peggy Carter Masterlist
No one ever wanted to work the night shift on New Yearâs Eve, and you completely understood why. You didnât work for the police, so there werenât drunken celebrations to keep track of or traffic safety to worry yourself with, and you didnât usually have cases that required constant attention at this time of year. You would think that people might try to use the distraction of the holidays to make enacting their diabolical plans easier, but that (thankfully) didnât happen often. At best, the new yearâs eve night shift was spent finalizing case reports, filing a few last minute things, and staring at the clock as you listened for the cheerful shouts at midnight.
Holiday shifts like these were usually traded throughout the year in return for favors and secrets, or they were shouldered by the newest agents hired. There were usually a small group of agents who didnât celebrate Christmas or Thanksgiving, so lately those shifts werenât bartered back and forth, but this one always was.
You werenât even supposed to be here in the first place, but Daniel had called you at the last minute and explained that Jenkins had called out sick, and he practically begged for you to fill in. And after negotiating about what you would get in return (which was the next three days off, all fully paid), you finally agreed. But you would have said yes anyway the moment you found out who you would be working with.
And you were pretty sure that Daniel knew that when he asked you.
Although you had never talked about your feelings out loud, you could never deny that you were fascinated with Peggy Carter. Of course the two of you had spent a lot of time together, and since she was the only other female agent in the office she was the one who showed you the ropes of the SSR (and of course, little tricks and ways to make the best of working in this particular situation). You moved out west when Daniel opened up the office in Los Angeles, and you were overjoyed when Peggy moved across the country to work here earlier this year.
You had watched her knock out assailants twice her size without as much as breaking a sweat, and on more than one occasion gotten a little distracted because you were staring at her from across the room. You desperately wanted to tell her how you felt, but a fear of what might happen if she didnât return your amorous emotions held you back.
You knew that Daniel had probably figured things out about your little crush by now. You knew for sure that his wife had her suspicions, and you wouldnât have put it past Violet to say something to her husband and try to get him to help you out a little. But you knew that your affections were usually pretty blatant, so you didnât really blame them.
The door to the office opened and Peggy stepped back into the room, a bag of takeout in her hand and a look on her face you couldnât quite read. âWhatâs it like out there?â you asked. This would mark your second new year on the west coast, but it was her first.
âThe traffic isnât as bad as New York this time of year, but itâs somehow still just as infuriating,â she said, returning to where she had been sitting before, which was the desk the two of you had been sharing for the evening.
You laughed. âIâd love to say that gets better, but I really canât.â
You could see a smile start to form on her face. âIt doesnât in New York either.â
As the two of you unwrapped the food and began to eat, you were the one to break the comfortable silence. âNow that youâve been here for a little bit, how do you like LA?â
âItâs different than I thought it would be, but Iâm happy I moved out here,â she said. âWhat about you? Have you completely forgotten what it was like to live on the east coast at this point?â
You smiled, pausing before you answered her question. âThere are good things and bad things,â you said. âI like the warmer weather, but everythingâs too far apart here.â
âI definitely agree,â she said. âI donât think Iâve ever driven as much as I have since I left New York.â
âI donât know if I miss the subway though.â
She scoffed slightly. âI definitely donât!â
As the conversation moved on to other topics, you could feel the atmosphere in the bullpen get brighter. And for the first time all night, you hadnât looked at the clock in quite some time.
***
The three hour time difference between New York and LA meant that by the time you had finished eating, you were too late to tune into the more official celebrations (such as the ball dropping in Times Square), but you didnât really mind.
The slightly tinny-sounding radio that resided in one of storage closets was soon brought out, and you couldnât help the way your heart lifted as music filled the tiny room. There was nothing else to do, and the two of you would be stuck here for quite some time, so what was the harm in having a little fun? After listening for a little while, you began to dance, at first moving your head to the beat of the music but soon having fully gotten up from your seat.
If there was anyone else in the room besides Peggy, you wouldnât have let loose so easily, and you certainly wouldnât have asked her to dance, but you did.
âOh, Iâm not any good at that,â Peggy said. âI think Iâd step on your toes.â
âIâm not any good at this either,â you said, holding your hand out. âBut itâs New Yearâs Eve, letâs have a little fun.â
You didnât give up, and soon Peggy was gently holding your hand as the two of you twirled through the room. It was not graceful or picturesque by any means, as you almost crashed into the desks on multiple occasions, but it was fun, and that was all that mattered.
An upbeat song ended and a slower one took its place, you paused, but Peggy didnât show any sign of wanting to sit back down. It was a bit awkward to shift your dance to a slower tempo, but eventually the two of you got there.
She was so much closer to you now, and you could see every detail on her face. To you, every hair out of its usual perfect place was a symbol of the way she had let loose a little bit tonight, and you wanted to bottle this moment just so that you could keep it forever.
You didnât know who moved first, or when the eye contact got a little more intense, but soon the music from the radio had completely faded into the background. You and Peggy were the only two people in the entire world right now, and you didnât think anything could make this better than it already was.
Until she leaned in, stopping right before her lips made contact with yours. âMay I?â she whispered.
âPlease,â was your breathy response, and you didnât even have time to act embarrassed about your forwardness before she had closed the gap between you.
You had dreamed about kissing Peggy Carter before, youâd be lying if you said you hadnât, but this put every single fantasy youâve ever had before to absolute shame. You always rolled your eyes when people talked about sparks flying between lovers, but in this moment you were ready to eat every single one of those words. She was utterly perfect, of course her kisses would be immeasurably wonderful as well.
When you finally had to pull away for air, you didnât know what to say. âHappy new year,â was what came out of your mouth, and it definitely wasnât your finest moment,.
Peggy looked slightly puzzled. âIs it midnight yet?â
You could not try to backtrack now, even if it was only (your head snapped towards where the clock was hanging) eleven thirty. âItâs midnight somewhere, right?â
Your (not-so) suave line did not have the intended effect. âI donât know, wouldnât time zones-â
As she spoke you took a risk, and instead of trying to figure out the right words to say, you just leaned in and kissed her again. Any worry you had about her not reciprocating melted away after the very first moment, because she returned every ounce of passion that you poured into the kiss.
Yeah, there were still quite a few things that needed to be figured out with her, but right now, you were more than happy to just relish in the happiness of the occasion.
All of that other stuff would be next yearâs problem anyway.
- the end -
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December entry for Artesâs Year of Whump ( and fluff) @yearofcreation2023
Summary: As Ezra struggles post recovery, Cee plays cupid and finds his lost love.
Warnings: recovery, depression, loss of a limb
An: This is the official end of Arteâs Year of Whump. It was so fun, thank you yearofcreation! I know I missed some months, but glad I could close out December. I love this story so much, itâs open for later expansion. More notes at the endâŚ
Preview below, read in full on A03 (account holders)
Sunlight peeked through the curtains, sending rays of light across the bedroom. This might be the first time heâs woken up before sunset in weeks.
His eyes settled on his new arm. It was still a strange feeling, having a robotic limb. But it did provide a small comfort as the loss of his arm, on top of everything else, sent him into the darkest place heâd been in years. Ezra told himself, he didnât need a replacement, he would learn his way with one arm, and be just fine. Heâs a man who weathered many storms. But he found his phantom arm haunted him. His mood, his self-esteem, and his sense of purpose all plummeted.
Ezra sat up with a groan and followed the scar on his torso with his eyes. Sometimes he could still feel that jab, sometimes he woke up in a sweat thinking it was happening all over again. Heâs endured worse, heâs gone toe to toe with no hesitation with some of the meanest, more dangerous men and beasts one could face. Still, the events on the Green haunted him the most. Sometimes he could still hear that disturbing music in his ears.
Ezra died twice on that noxious moon; when he lost his arm, and when he was stabbed. But he was revived too. Cee, bless her heart, dragged back some version of him to civilization, a shell of him he didnât recognize. The price of that job was the highest heâs ever paid; one he was still paying for now.
Ezra coughed as he rummaged the surface of the nearby table, then he found it, the recent letter from Cee.
Keep reading on A03
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A03: Artemiseamoon (u need an account to read my work)
@artemiseamoon-updates
More Ezra
â¨â¨â¨
About this year long challenge:
Works from this challenge that have more to come:
1. Is this how it ends? Turned into a full fic, we are on chapter 4 or 5 now and it's ongoing.(TF, dark Santi, ofc)
2. Dial up the Jack, Dim the Whiskey will have a part two. (Agent Whiskey, ofc)
3. The thing about second chances will have a part two.
Dialogue prompt- â hey! get away from them! â and â donât worry about me; are YOU okay? â
Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiverâs life.
Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives
Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!
~
When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.
It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you werenât looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever⌠as a family.Â
Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart.Â
*
Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didnât want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.
It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldnât tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.
Over time, it moved from the wall to Dinâs bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.
You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.
âDinâŚâ you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.
âIâve got you,â he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.
You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.
He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, âYouâre beautiful,â he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts.Â
Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Dinâs thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.
A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.
Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.
This time, you couldnât hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldnât help the way you cried out. Dinâs cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.
âFuck⌠DinâŚâ
âI know,â he groaned, âMe tooâŚâ
His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach.Â
âDin⌠IâmâŚâ was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.
Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.
Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.
He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.
Mumbling a hushed âthanks,â you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Dinâs gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didnât dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.
That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. âDinâŚâ you started in a whisper.
But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.
You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, âWe didnât wake him did we?â you asked in embarrassment.
âI hope not,â he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, âIâm sure itâs fine,â he reassured you.Â
You couldnât help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.
Din tilted his head affectionately, âRest now,â he cradled your face, âWe all need some sleep.â
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.
âGoodnight,â you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable⌠and safe.
The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to himâŚÂ
*
âI have a bad feeling about this,â you mumbled.
Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you.Â
The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldnât put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.
Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.
âCareful,â Din hissed under his breath to you.
You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, âHeâs already dead.â
Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.
A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Groguâs pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.
Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, âGet out of here, Grogu,â you told him and you gathered your strength, âGet out of here and get help,â you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, âDin,â you breathed.
He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.
*
You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.
âYou joined us just in time,â a sinister voice spoke.
Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.
âSheâs feisty,â he commented, âI see why you keep her around, Mando,â he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.
The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.
âMaybe now you can tell us where the child is,â the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.
âGet away from her!â Din shouted, âLet her go!â
He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, âLetâs hear how pretty you are when you scream,â he hissed.
âNo!â Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.
The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.
Your screams went right to Dinâs chest, âStop!â he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. âItâs me you want. Leave her alone,â Din panted, âDonât hurt her.â
Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.
Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, âIs this⌠love, Mandalorian?â he asked as he parried Din's attack.
The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.
âHas a woman made you soft?â he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.
Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."
Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didnât even get to tell himâŚ
Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Kargaâs men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain.Â
*
Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands werenât bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.
âDin,â you gasped, âItâs alright, weâre ok,â you were right next to him.
Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didnât matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, âWhat happened?â
âGrogu found backup,â you sounded tired, âKarga and the others found us just in time.â
He groaned, âGrogu?! Where is he?â
âShh,â you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, âHeâs alright. Heâs resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him⌠healing usâŚâ
âAre you alright?â was his next question after a pause.
Your eyes went wide, âDonât worry about me. Are you ok?â
Din cupped your face, âAs long as you and the kid are alrightâŚâ
âDonât say that,â tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, âDin, you⌠You sacrificed yourself⌠For meâŚâ your voice trembled.Â
He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.
âDinâŚâ you breathed as he cupped your face once more.
As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, âKeeping you and Grogu safe,â he hissed slightly from the pain, âIs all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.â Din spoke in a sincere voice.
Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. âI care about you too, Din,â you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, âYou and the kid⌠Youâre my family. My everything.â
Din let out a deep breath, âI trust you,â his tone was soft, âDo you trust me?â
âYes,â you breathed without hesitation.
He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Dinâs own lips.
Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.
You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Dinâs armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.
As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.
âLook at me,â he said gently.
You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. âThank you,â you whispered, âFor saving my life,â you slid your hand in his.
âYou never have to thank me, meshâla,â Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, âIâll always protect you,â he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.
You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. âLetâs go see our kid,â you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.
Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, âYeah,â he murmured, âLetâs get our family back together.âÂ
Summary:Â Soulmates can hear each other sing and hum, but Matt Murdock had never really thought twice about his soulmate. Until he hears the new tenant of the apartment building humming the same song his soulmate is.
Pairing:Â Matt Murdoc x GN!ReaderÂ
Words:Â 1,679
Warnings:Â Christmas songs, fluff, slight worry
This is my December story for my Year of Creation: Soulmates! This challenge is being run by @yearofcreation2023, and you can find my masterlist for this challenge here!
A/N: And this is my last Soulmate AU of the year! I've loved this challenge, so much so that I'm doing something similar next year!! :D Keep an eye out for a new "Year of Challenge" starting in January 2024!
Feedback fuels me!
Matthew Murdock knew how to live his life blind. He had adjusted to it over time, trained for it. He depended on his hearing, it was how he lived, how he did all his work.
When he had started to hear his soulmate, Matt had literally stumbled over his own two feet for a week. Their singing and humming in his head was so strange, harder for him because he was blind. It felt like it was coming from every angle, from all around him.
It was something everyone heard, worldwide: their soulmate signing and humming in their head. Some people tried to âbreakâ the system by humming one song as much as possible for their lives, until they met their soulmate. Other people hated the idea of being tied to one person, the idea of fate, so never sang, never hummed.
Matt was...one of the in-between. He hummed on occasion, and hoped someday he would be ready for his soulmate and find them, but...he needed his hearing to live and work, to be Daredevil. It was back and forth for him. His soulmate seemed like they were on the same page as him, or he assumed they were. Whoever they were, they hummed or sang on occasion, almost as if they werenât worried about finding him right away, just living their life.
It was almost refreshing.
Foggy had asked Matt once what Matt would do, if he found his soulmate. Matt had replied with âI donât knowâ, which was still true, over a year later. He had so many other things to worry about, someone he may never even meet wasnât a priority.
Your friends had called you crazy, on many levels.
First, you were moving in December, less than two weeks before Christmas. Why anyone would do that was beyond them, but you had. Second, you had decided to move to Hellâs Kitchen of all places, which had made some of your friends panic beyond belief. Yes, it had a crime issue, a major one. But didnât all of New York? At least Hellâs Kitchen had cheaper rent.
When you had told them that you had found over five apartments that were under your budget in Hellâs Kitchen, that were livable, and were larger than a studio, all of your friends had gone silent. With the money you were saving, you had already paid for and finished a self defense class. Plus, you had pointed out, your new apartment was closer to your new job, which was also in Hellâs Kitchen.
They hadnât liked that either. Maybe your friends just thought all your decisions were bad. Were they bad friends if they did that? Probably. You would have the time and space to figure that out that though, it wasnât like they would visit you in your new apartment.
Moving in a week and a half before Christmas was a little insane. Yes, you could acknowledge that. It was a weird time of year to move: cold for the movers, busy streets because of so many people taking trips, and just strange because itâs Christmas.
Getting the boxes and furniture into the new apartment was the hard part, but now that it was all in, you could relax, you could focus. There was a full week before you had to start your new job, so you had more than enough time to unpack and decorate for Christmas.
Putting on a record, you smiled softly as Christmas music filtered through the speakers. There was something special about Frank Sinatra singing Christmas songs, his voice just always just put you in the holiday mood.
Moving to the boxes labeled âChristmasâ, you let yourself listen to Sinatra sing âWhite Christmasâ.
Matt paused as he heard Christmas music start playing. No one in the complex really played music, and it was later than he had expected anyone to really be awake.
Someone new had moved into the complex a few days ago, and he hadnât met them yet. He knew with his hearing music being heard was different for him than anyone else, and to everyone else in the complex they probably didnât hear any music at all, but he could hear the scratch of the needle on the vinyl record.
Part of him smiled softly at the Christmas music, at the sultry tones of Sinatra. Hellâs Kitchen wasnât the neighborhood for holidays, and Matt had to admit, it was refreshing to have someone like and enjoy Christmas.
He shifted his focus back to the papers around him, letting his fingers brush over the braille. More songs played, and he heard the record finish, whoever it was switching the side, and the music continuing. Two more songs played, and the next song âI'll Be Home For Christmas (If Only In My Dreams)â started, but then something happened than made Matt stop working.
His soulmate started humming.
You smiled as the next song started, sliding another ornament on the tree. There was always a soft spot in your heart for âI'll Be Home For Christmas (If Only In My Dreams)â, especially by Sinatra. The choir in the background made it softer, more gentle and aching for home and wishing for home.
As Sinatra sang, you hummed along, grabbing another ornament. You hoped your soulmate didnât mind Christmas music; you would be singing and humming it a lot this season.
Matt hadnât been able to really stop himself.
As soon as he had realized the humming of his soulmate perfectly matched up with the music that the new tenant in the complex was playing, he had moved to the fire escape closest to their apartment, doing his best not to be seen. As far as he could tell, he hadnât been noticed at all.
Leaning against the brick wall, Matt let himself listen to them move around inside, the music still playing as they hummed along. It was disorienting, physically and mentally, to know that only a window really separated him from who he was meant to be with. How was he supposed to introduce himself? Knock on their window? Go around and knock on their door? Just say âI heard your music and heard you humming, I think youâre my soulmateâ?
That seemed ridiculous.
But now that he was thinking it over, how else was he supposed to do it?
A week later, and Matt had what he would almost call a routine. He did what he normally did, lawyer by day, Daredevil by night.
But whenever he heard the humming or singing in his head, if he wasnât busy, Matt made his way back to the building and just sat outside, listening to them and the music. Given that Christmas was in a week now, it was mostly Christmas music. For the first time in years, Matt actually found himself in the holiday spirit.
Tonight was a slow night. The snow covering the city means it was cold, and no one was out of their homes. He had gotten out of his suit after a few hours of boredom, and now he was just sitting on the roof, listening to them sing softly as they played music.
Unable to himself, Matt hummed softly along with the song he could hear. They were listening to âAll I Want for Christmas is Youâ, one of his favorites after so long, after realizing his soulmate was so close.
You moved around your apartment, cleaning as music played. You had been humming along softly, just mindlessly tidying and unpacking the last few boxes.
Then a different, deeper humming entered your mind.
You froze, realizing it was your soulmate. They were humming, like they rarely did. They were humming the exact song you were listening to. Faltering in your own humming, you couldnât believe it; they were real? And they were hearing you.
Catching yourself, you continued to hum, checking the hall and the fire escape, wondering where they were, if your soulmate was close.
Matt could hear them moving around, had heard them falter. They were looking for him, he knew that.
Did he want them to see him? Find him? There was so much danger surrounding him, always. But at the same timeâŚ
He did want them.
Smiling softly, Matt sang out loud, âI just want you here tonight, holding onto me so tight.â
You had opened one of windows, glancing out the fire escape, when you heard the voice in your head say at the same time as someone on the roof sing, âI just want you here tonight, holding onto me so tight.â
Your breath caught in your throat, and you slowly climbed the metal fire escape. Stopping as you got to the roof, you saw a man sitting there, the singing in your head stopping.
âHi,â he said.
âHello,â you responded. âSorry, I just-â
âHeard me singing,â he interrupted. âI know.â
You swallowed the lump in your throat, shifting on your feet. âJust like Iâm assuming you heard me?â
He nodded, turning his face towards you. âI have been, yeah. Iâm Matt.â
You smiled, sitting beside him. âY/N. Merry Christmas.â
He smiled back. âMerry Christmas.â
-1 year later-
âMatt, whereâs the-â
âUnder the bed,â he called back from the table.
You smiled and shook your head, glancing at your boyfriend. âYou donât even know what Iâm looking for.â
âThe keys,â he replied, glancing up from his braille files.
â...shut up,â you muttered, moving to the bedroom.
He chuckled, standing as you moved to the bedroom. âI love you,â he called.
You rolled your eyes, finding the keys and moving back to him. âI love you too.â Kissing him gently, you muttered. âNeed anything while Iâm out?â
âJust you back soon,â he responded, pulling you in for another kiss. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.
âItâs only Christmas shopping,â you stated. âIâll be fast, just a few more things.â
âI suppose I can be patient then. Hum a song or three while I wait.â
You smiled against his lips, whispering, âPerfect.â
Feedback fuels me!
I do not use a tag list anymore, due to tumblr's new posting system.
hiii Lucy Gray anon, since our lovely Peeta took that prompt maybe "I don't really know how to dance..." || "It's never too late to learn" ?
of course, i love this prompt for her!! and since you were next on my list, here it is :) it went a little angstier than i had originally planned, i hope that's okay!
Moving Forward, Together
words: 888
summary: when your girlfriend wakes up in the middle of the night, you two have a conversation about her past, and she attempts to teach you a skill for the future.
flower and meaning: poppy || remembering the fallen of wars and armed conflicts - this is also going to fill my november prompt for the @yearofcreation2023
lucy gray baird masterlist || year of flowers masterlist
It took a while for Lucy Gray to open up about her experience in the Hunger Games, and you never pushed her to talk about things she didnât want to. You couldnât even imagine what experiencing that must have been like for her, but you could clearly see it continuing to affect her life, even as far away from Panem as you were right now, having taken the chance to run away together the first moment it came.Â
On particularly rough days for her, you tried to help in any way you could, but you often felt powerless, especially when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night. You wept along with her most of the time, offering your comforting touch to her in any way she might want it. Sometimes she would even ask you to sing for her, though your voice was in no way as beautiful as hers.Â
When Lucy Gray woke up crying this time, you immediately wrapped your arms around her and pulled her closer to you, placing soft kisses on her forehead and she shivered slightly from the sobs. âDo you want to talk about it?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Usually, she would shake her head and that would be the end of the conversation, but you always wanted to make sure you gave her the chance if she wanted to continue.Â
And it seemed that this time, she did want to talk. âI canât stop seeing their faces,â she said, her voice shaking almost as much as her body was. âJessup, Reaper, Lamina, Dill, Coral, Mizzen,â she said, rattling off the names of her fellow victims, those who were taken from their homes and their families and forced to publicly fight to their deaths in order to satiate the Capitolâs sadistic power fantasy.
Unsure of what to say, you only hugged her tighter, and she sucked in shaky breaths before continuing. âI donât want to forget them, because thatâs what the Capitol wants. But I canât stop seeing them as if they were attacking me.âÂ
Tears began to slip down your face at her words, and even though you had never lived this particular trauma, you could understand her struggle. âItâs perfectly okay to want to forget the version of them you met in the arena,â you said gently. âNo one blames you for that.âÂ
âI know, I just-âÂ
âLucy Gray,â you said, cutting her off. âYou are the strongest and bravest person Iâve ever met, and just the fact that you want to remember those who tried to kill you shows how compassionate and kind you are. You and I both know that their attitudes were a result of the brutal treatment and sick game the Capitol was playing, and I think that they would much rather us remember them as people who loved more than they hated.âÂ
She nodding, pulling away from you to get out of bed. âCan we talk about something else right now?âÂ
You could only imagine the toll this conversation must have taken on her, so you immediately nodded and reached out to take her hand. âOf course.âÂ
âCan you dance with me?âÂ
The new topic of conversation was not exactly unpleasant or unwelcome for you, but it also forced you to contend with something that you had never admitted before. âOh,â you said softly, and she looked at you with a confused expression. âI donât really know how to dance.âÂ
And it was true. You had met Lucy Gray in the middle of the woods, and although you knew that she and her family often performed at some of the dance halls in District 12, you had never been to one. All the time you spent with (before running away together) had been with the rest of the Coveys in the cabin or the lake, and in the middle of the woods as you rested on the soft patches of earth.
She looked shocked at your admission, but it wasnât long before a smile began to spread across her face. âWell, itâs never too late to learn, if youâd like to,â she said, holding out a hand for you to take.Â
When you took her hand and let you lead you through a (rather clumsy) waltz, it didnât even matter that you felt completely out of your element. You could see some of the tension and worry evaporate from Lucy Grayâs face, and it was soon replaced with a look of concentration as she tried to explain to you both the steps of the waltz and then a simple line dance, which you were equally terrible at. Soon, the heavy atmosphere that had filled the room was gone, and the sound of bright laughter took its place.Â
âYou really are a terrible dancer!â she said, after you stepped on her foot for about the twelfth time.Â
You laughed. âAm I the worst youâve ever seen?â Â
âAbsolutely!â she shouted, leaning in to steal a kiss before bursting out into laughter. âBut thatâs okay, I still love you.âÂ
âI love you too.âÂ
The frightening memories and persistent troubles that Lucy Gray felt would never truly go away, you knew that. But you hoped that with moments like these, you would be able to help make them a little less haunting. Â
- the end -
i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!
Year of Themed Creations: December 2023 Collection (in progress)
WORDS:
Lost Pizza Delivery Guys by @captainsophiestark - Year of Olympians
Percyâs cousin and friend on Sallyâs side helps him celebrate his 21st birthday right. (Platonic!Percy Jackson x Reader)
Hum a Song by @never--doubt - Year of Soulmates
Soulmates can hear each other sing and hum, but Matt Murdock had never really thought twice about his soulmate. Until he hears the new tenant of the apartment building humming the same song his soulmate is. (Matt Murdoc x GN!Reader )
His Strength by @flightlessangelwings - Year of Protectiveness
Dialogue prompt- â hey! get away from them! â and â donât worry about me; are YOU okay? â Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiverâs life. (Din Djarin x fem!reader)
A Light at the End of the Tunnel by @artemiseamoon - Year of Whump
As Ezra struggles post recovery, Cee plays cupid and finds his lost love. (Ezra x ofc , ft Cee)
Here's to a New Year by @ghostofskywalker - Year of Flowers
Working the night shift on New Year's Eve isn't really that bad, especially not when it's Peggy you're spending time with. (Peggy Carter/Fem!Reader)
A Quiet Night In by @keldabe-kriff - Year of Small Joys
Nothing much. Just a quiet night in with Joel. (Joel Miller x reader)
Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023â! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!
Fandom:Â Percy Jackson
Prompt:Â Dionysus; Wine, Cups, Dolphins, and Goats
Summary: Percy's cousin and friend on Sally's side helps him celebrate his 21st birthday right.
Word Count: 1,843
Category: Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"IDs, please."
I grinned and nudged my cousin excitedly as he pulled out his driver's license and handed it to the bouncer before us. Tonight was his 21st birthday, and this officially marked the first time he got to use his card to get in somewhere.
"Okay, go ahead," said the bouncer, passing our IDs back before stepping aside. "And happy birthday."
"Thanks," said Percy with a smile and a nod as we headed into the bar. I beamed at him, dropping my hands onto his shoulders and jumping up and down a little.
"Welcome to adulthood, Perce! First round's on me, but you put in the order."
"Alright," said Percy, laughing a little at my antics but heading over to the bar with a smile anyway.
After a full-family day of celebrating Percy's 21st birthday, I'd asked for the honor of taking him to his first bar. He'd been all in, and I'd brought him to my favorite place in the city.
Despite being close cousins if you looked at a family tree, I hadn't gotten to be a part of Percy's life until the very end of his high school career. I'd been separate from the family I shared with him and Sally, escaping a bad situation when I was young without looking back. Once I'd gotten to college in New York, however, and knew I had family in the area, I decided to reach out and see if it would be worth reconnecting. And it had turned out to be the best decision I could've made.
My Aunt Sally was absolutely incredible, that went without saying. The few memories I had of her from when I was young were the things that had made me want to reach out in the first place. But finding Percy, who was only a few years younger than me, was like getting the little brother I'd always wanted. Even a little later, when a monster almost took my head off when Percy and I were out getting lunch and I learned about all the Greek mythology stuff, I didn't have even a second of regret over having these people in my life.
Luckily for me, Sally's clear-sightedness ran in the family, so I wasn't completely out of the loop when things came up. And, even better, I could look around the bar and feel confident no monsters were about to interrupt me and my little cousin celebrating his 21st birthday.
"Alright, first a toast," I said, raising my glass towards Percy once we had our drinks. He lifted his, too, grinning at me as I continued. "To you, Percy Jackson, hero of AHS swim team, son of Sally Jackson, and the best cousin I could've ever hoped for."
We clinked glasses, Percy still absolutely beaming, and took the first sips of our drinks. The night had officially begun.
We stayed in the bar for a few hours, laughing and dancing to the live band and occasionally refilling our drinks. Finally though, with a little less than an hour and a half to go before midnight, we wandered outside, smiling like idiots with our arms around each other.
"That was fun," Percy decided as we nodded a goodnight to the bouncer.
"I'm glad. And remember what I told you about drinking lots of water."
"I will. Maybe it'll work even better for me since I'm a son of Poseidon."
"That would be sick."
"Yeah."
We both stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over us, a serious relief for the end of the summer. Percy had planned to spend the last moments of his birthday at Camp, with his girlfriend Annabeth and his best friend Grover. I knew it was time for me to let him go, to get us each a cab and head our separate directions, but I still didn't quite want the night to end.
Apparently, Percy felt the same way. He turned to me, a mischievous grin on his face and a light in his eyes that definitely meant trouble.
"Do you want to come back to Camp with me?"
I laughed, smiling a little even as I shook my head. "Perce, you know as well as I do that I can't. I wish I could, but there's no way for me to get in."
"Actually... no one knows how he did it, but a really lost pizza delivery guy made it through one time."
"If no one knows how he did it, how am I supposed to replicate it?"
Percy shrugged. "I don't know. But it's possible."
I paused, debating with myself for a moment. Worse-case scenario, I couldn't get in and I had a much longer cab ride than necessary. Not ideal, but not the end of the world either. And best case, I'd finally get to see the famous Camp Half-Blood and hang out with Percy and his friends.
"Alright," I finally said, turning back to Percy with a smile. "Let's give it a shot."
"Cool. Then I'm sorry for this."
Before I could ask what he meant, Percy held out his hand and threw a golden coin I recognized as Olympian money onto the street. At the same time, he shouted something in what I guess was ancient Greek, and the pavement before us started to bubble. A moment later, a smoky gray taxi rose out of the ground, suddenly sitting and waiting just in front of where we stood on the curb.
"Whoa," I breathed, a smile making its way onto my face as the astonishment wore off. "That is so cool."
"Maybe wait until after the ride to decide if it's cool."
Despite that shady warning, I got into the cab when Percy opened the door and climbed in with me. In front of us across the driver's bench were three ancient old ladies. It took about thirty seconds for me to realize they only had one eye between them, at which point only love for Percy kept me sitting in the car.
The ride from the bar to Camp Half-Blood were a few of the worst moment of my life. It was terrifying from start to finish, and although the travel was incredibly fast, there was also a stretch of that time where I thought we'd never get out of the cab alive again.
After Percy convinced the drivers, apparently the Gray Sisters, to take me even though I was a mortal, and after they spat some poetry about Apollo meddling to help Percy as a favor in the near future (which Percy seemed less than thrilled about), the car finally came to a stop. I rushed to get out, making a beeline for some bushes in case the motion sickness was enough to make me throw up. Thankfully, it wasn't, and when I turned around the cab was gone, leaving me and Percy on a darkened stretch of road.
"That was the worst thing ever," I declared. Percy shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Fastest cab service in New York."
I just shook my head, closing my eyes and then immediately regretting it since my world was still spinning. When I opened my eyes again, Percy had moved past me to the edge of the forest.
"I figured we'd try to go in the back way, by the woods here," he explained. "We're pretty sure that's where the pizza guys come from."
"Would those be the monster-infested woods you've told me about?"
"Yup."
I sighed, long and heavy, letting the last of the adrenaline drain away. Then, I managed a smile at Percy.
"Alright. Let's do this."
Percy pulled out his sword as I followed him into the woods, incredibly tense and jumping at every single noise. I couldn't tell exactly where the barrier to Camp Half-Blood was, but I didn't run into any invisible barriers, and by some miracle we didn't run into any monsters. After a while of walking, finally, we came to a beach, and not far from us I could see two figures waiting.
Percy turned back to me with a grin as our feet reached the sand.
"We did it."
"Did we seriously? This is Camp?"
"Yeah. The cabins and everything else are another walk through the woods, but this is the Camp beach. Annabeth and Grover are up there."
"Hell yes," I said, grinning as I moved to walk next to Percy. "Lost pizza delivery guys have nothing on me."
Percy and I high-fived, and as soon as they noticed me, Annabeth and Grover threw their hands up in the air and waved me over.
"You made it!" cried Annabeth, pulling me in for a hug. "How did you make it?"
I shrugged as we pulled apart, then immediately turned to pull Grover in too.
"No idea. However the pizza delivery guys did it, I guess. Whatever it was, I'm glad I'm here."
"Me too," said Percy, slinging an arm around my shoulders. We shared a smile, and then I turned away to reach into my bag. I pulled out the last surprise I'd been saving and faced the group again with a massive grin, two wine bottles in-hand.
"Don't tell your camp director," I said, smirking a little to myself. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made a perfect scale of worried (Grover) to cackling, laughing happy (Percy) with Annabeth in the middle. I passed one bottle to Percy, then opened the first bottle and poured us each a glass. "To Percy! Happy twenty-first to the greatest cousin and friend I ever could've asked for. I love you, and I can't wait to drag you on every ridiculous, non-lethal adventure I can think of, from now until forever. And you have the next year to prepare for how many times you're gonna hear Taylor Swift's 22 at your next birthday."
"Hear hear!"
"Cheers!"
"Can't wait!"
The four of us clinked our glasses, and a moment later (like it'd been planned, which it probably had) a literal pod of dolphins burst out of the water, dancing and swirling in the waves. Percy groaned next to me while Annabeth, Grover, and I laughed.
"Poseidon knows how to put on a show for a birthday," I said. Percy sighed and shook his head, then dropped into the sand. The rest of us followed right after him, leaning back in the sand and watching the ocean sparkle and stretch out before us. The four of us stayed out there long into the night, laughing and talking and drinking by the surf.
When we finally decided it was time to head to bed, the trio helped me sneak through the woods again and into the heart of Camp. I wandered around happily, taking in everything while Percy and I made a beeline for his cabin. I'd have to leave earlier than early tomorrow to keep us all out of trouble, but for just one night we could manage to get away with it.
A Half-Blood's life was full of crazy, and even though I wasn't one, I intended to be part of every single thing that I could be part of for Percy, Annabeth, and everyone else he cared about for the rest of his life.
Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023â! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!
Fandom:Â Percy Jackson
Prompt:Â Hermes; Travel, boarders, games
Summary: The summer before Percy Jackson came to Camp Half Blood, Luke Castellan's SO convinced him to leave camp with them for a new life.
Word Count: 1,175
Category: Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"I cannot believe you did that to me," I said, shaking my head in disgust with my boyfriend, Luke Castellan. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.
"I'm sorry. But it was the best way for me to win."
"Cheating isn't winning."
"Technically, choosing an object outside of the car that we left in the dust ten miles ago isn't cheating."
"You sound like Malcom," I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. Luke just chuckled, shooting me a grin from the driver's seat as we cruised along the highway. Luke and I had been in the car for almost three hours now, on the sixth day of our cross-country road trip from camp. For the first time in a very long time, we were leaving the place we'd called home and had never really been allowed to leave.
I'd gotten to Camp Half-Blood the year after Luke, although we were the same age, and with one exception that hadn't gone well, neither of us had left the camp's boarders since. Until now.
This past year, Luke and I had decided it was time for us to leave, to go do something with our lives now that we were both technically adults. Sitting day after day, month after month, within the boarders of Camp Half Blood wasn't sustainable for the rest of our lives, and I'd noticed it having a bad effect on Luke especially. So, we'd spent the last year preparing for and submitting applications to college, and by some miracle we'd both gotten into the same place. Annabeth, although she would only be starting sixth grade in the coming weeks, had helped us a lot, and about six days ago Luke and I had officially left camp with the end goal of Salem, Oregon in mind.
It hadn't been an easy road trip, especially since we couldn't use phones to help with navigation. But we'd managed alright. We were together, after all, and I swear with every mile we put between us and Camp Half-Blood Luke's spirits had lifted. Enough for him to tease me while cheating at I Spy.
"Alright, new game," I declared, sitting forward in my seat and looking at the scenery around us. "How about... twenty questions?"
"Sure," Luke said, still with a little laugh in his voice. As annoying as his cheating was, I couldn't ignore how happy I was to see him smiling so freely again.
"Alright... I've got something, go ahead."
Luke and I passed another hour that way, laughing as we thought up more and more ridiculous things to try to get the other to guess. After four years of knowing each other and dating for a year and a half of that, we knew each other well enough that truly stumping each other was basically impossible. After Luke successfully guessed that I was thinking of a bearcat, our new school's mascot (whatever the hell a bearcat was), he pointed up ahead of us instead of continuing the game.
"Look, we're officially crossing the boarder from Idaho to Oregon. Last one before we get to school."
"Home stretch," I said, smiling and reaching over the console in the middle of the car to take Luke's hand. "I'm glad we decided to do this."
"Me too."
A little glimpse of the storm clouds passed over his face, but unlike at camp, this time they cleared quickly. He shot me another smile as we drove over the state line and into Oregon. With more than two thousand miles in our rearview mirror, only about two hundred were left between us and the newest chapter in our lives.
"I hope Annabeth's going to be alright without us there," Luke said after moment's hesitation. We'd both been hesitant to completely leave her behind, but she'd assured us all summer that she wanted us to go.
"I'm sure she will be," I said. "Besides, we can Iris Message her all the time to keep in touch. It'll be like we never left."
"It's times like this that the no technology thing gets... frustrating."
"What?" I asked, feigning surprise and putting a hand to my heart to really sell the drama. "You're telling me you're not looking forward to taking only paper notes for college, and to figuring out how to turn in assignments without using a computer?"
"Believe it or not, no," said Luke with a little laugh. There was no question that the year ahead of us would be incredibly strange and full of challenges, but I knew we'd figure out a way through them, together. That's what all our training at camp had been for, after all. Although, the problem solving they'd been preparing us for had been a little more combat-based.
"Maybe Annabeth can come visit us for a break or something," I mused, kicking back in my seat and watching the trees fly past us on either side. I'd never been this far West before, and it looked incredibly different than anything I saw back home.
"Do you still want to visit camp over the winter break?" he asked. His voice was casual, but I thought I heard something else underneath his words, something a little more tense and brittle. "Go back for the Winter Solstice on Olympus?"
I paused, thinking my words over carefully and trying to gauge how Luke felt. Finally, tentatively, I responded.
"I don't know... If we're settled in here, and neither of us really wants to fly... I don't know if I'll want to leave our new lives after only four months being here."
Luke nodded, and I thought I saw his shoulders relax, just slightly.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so too. We can decide later, of course, but... I think I want to stay here too."
I squeezed his hand lightly, and gave him a warm smile when he turned to look at me. He returned with a grin of his own, and after a moment of just enjoying the moment here, together, the two of us against the world, I leaned forward and cranked up the volume on the radio.
A little bit of luck must've followed us so far, because one of my absolute favorite songs was on, and I didn't hesitate to scream-sing the words at the top of my lungs. By the end of the day, Luke and I would be moving into a tiny apartment we'd found just on the edge of campus. In the morning, we'd gather materials and get ready to start our classes, and then the day after our new lives would begin. I had a feeling we probably wouldn't go back to our old lives, ever, even though Luke didn't seem to want to talk about permanently closing that door yet. But I didn't mind. The Olympians were overrated anyway, and I'd be happy to live like a normal college kid with the guy I loved, free from their influence and the problems they brought with them.
About: When love wasnât enough, Gabrielle made the decision to end her relationship with Marcus Pike. Two years later, now settled into her new city and life, she crosses paths with Marcus again.
Warnings: relationship issues, pressure, difficult conversations about the future, a breakup.
â¨Part of Arteâs Year of Whump (plus fluff and comfort) ⨠@yearofcreation2023 ⨠November entry â¨
Below is a preview * read on A03
Gabrielle held it together until she reached one of his things. Pulling the grey t-shirt out of the pile, she ran the pads of her fingers over the soft cotton, before lifting it to her nose.
All at once, his comforting scent washed over her senses. Marcus's smell was grounding, warm with a touch of leather, yet fresh and clean.
Suddenly, standing took too much effort, leading Gabrielle to sit on the chair in the corner. With wet eyes, and clutching the shirt, she felt herself drifting off to memories. This living room was once inviting and comfortable, now it was full of boxes and stacks of things to be packed. All of them on a designated side of the room, labeled 'Gabi' or 'Marcus', just like the rest of the place.
Her eyes drifted to the space where the L-shaped couch used to be. Where they'd spend so many nights and weekends cuddled up binging their favorite shows. Where she'd fall asleep in his lap if they stayed up too late, and sometimes made love when passion was too high to take the short walk to the bedroom.
The buzzing of her phone pulled Gabrielle out of her of bittersweet memories. Blinking a few times, she reached over to the side table and checked her phone. It was a text from her brother, she replied with a quick response.
She made her way to the bedroom and lingered in the doorway, everything was mostly packed up now, minus the bed since she was still sleeping here until tomorrow. Memories of cuddling in bed, the mornings heâd walk in with breakfast on the tray and all the laughs and kisses they shared flooded her, making her smile while tearing at her heart even more.
Then one of their last memories in here, just a month before the breakup came barreling at her like a ton of bricks.
- Flashback-
After brushing her teeth, Gabrielle shut off the bathroom light and stepped into the bedroom. Marcus was sitting on the bed, shoulders tense, his brows together as worry filled his face.
âSweetheart - â
âMarcus. I already feel like shit and donât want to talk about this anymore.â
He waited for her to get in bed, then got in too, âI sprung it on you, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to think about it. Take your time.â
âYouâre only making me feel more pressured, Marcus. I don't even know if I want to be married, I don't even know if I see that for myself.â
Dialogue prompt- â you underestimate how much you mean to me. i wasnât about to let them hurt you. and i certainly wasnât about to let them even consider killing you. â
Action prompt-[ SECRET ]: sender, having been secretly following the receiver, saves their life from an immediate threat while remaining hidden from the receiver.
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Loki, mutual pining, harassment, kidnapping, minor character death offscreen, feelings, romantic s.ex, praise, takes place mostly in a woodsy/forest area but I left it open as to where in the world it is, pet names (lovely, darling), no use of y/n
Notes- For my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 . I've actually had a rough idea of this story in my head for about a year it just took some time to flesh it out and get it right. For that reason too, there's no series spoilers and is ambiguous as to where it fits on the timeline so you can imagine whenever.
This can be read as a prequel to In My Arms (Over and Over Again) but it can be read on its own. That fic is one of my pride and joys though so I recommend reading it after this one! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new stuff!
~
Midgard⌠Earth. It was the last place Loki ever expected to find himself, let alone willingly. Yet, it was the last place anyone would ever think to look for him. So itâs where he found himself when he wanted to be alone, unbothered by any pressures that surrounded him.
Loki had no idea where on the planet he was, but it didnât matter. The trees of the forest surrounded him and created a shelter of peace where he would just breathe. The warmth of the sun hit his skin, and the fresh air from the trees filled his lungs. It was refreshing. It was peaceful. It was everything he needed.
But, as he made his way through the forest with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of the birds around him, another sound made his eyes shoot open. The roar of a large animal snapped any notion of peace out of Lokiâs mind as he found himself nearly face to face with bared, sharp teeth. He wasnât worried, though, and he smirked as he brandished his dagger in his hand.
Just as Loki was about to attack, however, a voice from behind him made him freeze.
âWait!â
Loki paused.
The voice continued, âItâs not aggressive, not really,â you were calm as you spoke, âKeep eye contact and back away slowly and itâll leave you alone. Thereâs no need to kill it.â
Loki pondered his options. He could easily kill the beast and be done with it. But, there was something about your voice that swayed him, so he did as you instructed. Slowly, he stepped back, putting more distance between himself and the wild animal until it stopped growling and turned away. As it did so, Loki let out a deep breath.Â
You also let out a sigh of relief as the tall stranger with black hair got closer to you, âSheâs just defending herself,â you explained, âMust be a den or a nest around here somewhere. I bet she just had babies too.â
A smirk lit up Lokiâs face, âWould you give that benefit of a doubt to anyone?â he asked as he turned to face you, revealing his face to you.
You gasped as you brought your hands to your face, âYouâreâŚâ your body tensed as you clearly recognized who you found in the woods, âLokiâŚâ
âWould you have said the same thing if you knew who I was?â Loki challenged, yet no malice was heard in his voice, âWould you grant me the same courtesy?â
Silence filled the air between the two of you for several moments, the tension palpable. But, you exhaled, releasing the tension in your body as you did so, âI guess I would be a hypocrite if I said no, huh?â you said, trying to ease the tension.
Somehow, it worked, and it made Loki let out a genuine laugh. Something he hadnât done in so long, and if he had to admit, felt nice. âWhat is your name?â he asked.
You told him.Â
âLovely,â Loki said genuinely.
It all blossomed from there. You and Loki fell into conversation easily and naturally, as if you had known each other for a lifetime. And the more time you spent in his presence, the more at ease you felt, not that you were scared of him in the first place. Nervous, yes, but Loki had a calming air about him, and something told you it was ok. And Loki, for one reason or another, felt comfortable around you. You had the same calming aura about you that Loki felt drawn to, and he found he actually wanted to stay and talk to you longer.
That never happened with anyone before⌠Loki wondered why that was.Â
Before you knew it, the sun started to set, and you looked up with a gasp, âItâs getting late,â you breathed, âIâŚâ you paused as you stared into Lokiâs eyes, âI should go.â
Loki bid you farewell with a nod and watched you leave. And he already decided he was going to keep an eye on you until you were safe. He wasnât going to let you know, though, and he stayed in the shadows, keeping watch over you from afar. And as he did, he couldnât help but notice the new feeling in his chest. Sure, Loki had bedded princes and princesses, lords and ladies, and common men and women. But, you⌠you were different. And he couldnât help the feeling of fondness towards you.
You seemed to know the path well, and you made your way to the clearing at the edge of the woods in no time. Behind you was the fantasy world, the forest, the place where your life just changed forever. In front of you was the real world, civilization, the daily grind. Taking a deep breath, you took the first step back into reality.Â
But, as you started to leave, you suddenly found that you were not alone. A chill ran up your spine as a group of men whistled at you, and closed in on you quickly.
âHey there sweetheart,â one of them grinned darkly.
You didnât reply, but your hands shook as you looked around for an escape plan.
âOh come on, donât be like that,â another chimed in, âWe just want to talk to you.â
A whimper escaped your lips as you hated the helpless feeling that came over you. But, a growl in the distance called all your attention, and everyone snapped over and saw a shadowy creature. All that was visible were glowing eyes and sharp teeth, but it was enough to scare the men away. You, on the other hand, backed away and tried to make yourself smaller in hopes that whatever it was would chase them, and you let out a heavy breath when you felt a rush of wind past you and heard a roar in the distance where the men ran off to.
You stood still for several moments as you processed what happened. For some time, you didnât dare move, yet something within said you were safe. There was a familiar feeling around the air, as if you were being watched. Yet, you didnât feel threatened like with the men who approached you. Looking around, you took one tentative step away from where you stood in hopes of finding someone, yet you were alone. After letting out a deep breath, you turned and left, smirking to yourself; you had a hunch who was responsible for the shadowy creature that saved your life. After all, you did notice that the shadowy creature had bright green eyes.
In the shadows, Loki smiled with satisfaction.
*
One week to the day later, you found yourself back at the same spot. You weren't sure why or what you were expecting, yet you couldnât help but find your way back there. The sun shone through the trees, warming your skin, and you felt at peace here.
âWell, it looks as if you and I had similar ideas, darling,â a voice chimed through the trees.
âLoki,â you breathed as you turned around and met his gaze. The tension you momentarily held in your shoulders melted away and you grinned widely, âWere you stalking me?â you asked cheekily.
âNever,â Loki replied, âIt seems mere coincidence that we both came back to this spot on the same day.â
You gave him a pointed look, but the smirk never left your face, keeping the tone light.
âI promise,â Loki raised his hands in mock surrender, âIâll never lie to you, my lovely.â
Your breath caught in your throat as the world around you suddenly felt hot, âI.. Uhhh,â you stumbled over your words, unsure of how to respond, âThanks,â you decided on in a low mumble.
Loki returned the grin you gave him earlier, âShall we sit, darling?âÂ
It turned into a routine for the two of you. Every week on the same day at the same time, you and Loki met in the woods. It was your escape from the world for both of you. It became a comfort for each of you to seek solace in the other. Although neither of you ever officially made plans, or said youâd be back the next week, you always were.Â
For you, it was an escape from your life, from your stresses, to meet with Loki. And though you never thought youâd make friends with a Norse god, you were grateful for him. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when you realized tomorrow was your meeting day, and you forced your heart to calm its wild beating as you stood in the woods waiting for him.
And as for Loki, he felt the same way. He never expected to find peace and solidarity on earth, and he certainly didnât expect to fall⌠Loki laughed at himself, for so long he chastised his brother for loving someone from earth and here he was⌠They have more in common than Loki cared to admit. And he wasnât ready to fully admit his feelings for you yet. They were there though.
Loki paced around the forest; it was unusual for you to not be there waiting for him. It was rare he felt nervous, but Loki couldnât help the sinking feeling in his gut. Everything in him screamed that something was wrong, and after he waited long enough, Loki decided he was going to look for you.
And may the gods help if anyone hurt youâŚ
*
You groaned as your body ached. The last thing you remembered was that you were on your way to meet Loki for your weekly rendezvous when you bumped into a group of men who looked like they were up to go good. You gasped and tried to run, but one of them grabbed you. You tried to scream, but no one heard you, and the last thing you heard before a cloth covered your face was, âWrong place wrong time, sweetheart.â
And that was how you found yourself in a locked room tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged. You wiggled in your binds as much as you could, but it was no use. They were tied too tight, and you had no idea where you were anyway even if you could break free. You didnât even know what time or what day it was. And you whimpered softly when you realized that you would most likely never see Loki againâŚ
Or so you thought.
Gunshots and screams from a distance called your attention and you snapped up to strain to listen. You faced where the source of the sound was, even if you couldnât see anything. You didnât dare move, however, since you had no idea what was happening. Were you going to be safe with whoever attacked the men who kidnapped you? Or would it be worse? You held your breath, pressing your lips together as you tried to calm your trembling hands.
The screaming went on for what felt like hours, and you could only imagine what the men were fighting in their last moments. Part of you didnât want to dwell on it, but part of you had to have hope that whoever it was would be your savior. You never, however, expected to hear your name after the screaming stopped.
âLoki?â you whispered. When his voice called your name again, you shouted back, âLoki!â
The door burst open, and you heard Loki breathe your name in relief as he rushed over and untied you, âYouâre alright, itâs me.â
âLoki?â tears filled your eyes as you were filled with disbelief that he was actually here. He actually came. For you. âYouâŚ?â
âIâm here,â he cupped your face, âAre you hurt?â
You shook your head as you felt your body tremble, âA little sore, but Iâm ok,â you froze as you looked into his eyes and your heart skipped a beat at the look on his face, âLoki⌠You⌠You came for me?â your voice was shaky.Â
Loki grinned, âDarling⌠You underestimate how much you mean to me. I wasn't about to let them hurt you. and I certainly wasnât about to let them even consider killing you.â
Before you could stop yourself, you lunged forward and kissed him deeply. Your bodies smashed together as you pushed everything you had into him, clinging to him hard. You trembled as your emotions overwhelmed you and for a moment, you lost yourself into the feeling of Lokiâs lips. It brought a comfort unlike anything you were expecting, and a lone tear fell down your cheek. But, then you realized what you did.
âIâm sorry,â you breathed as you tried to pull away, âI donât know what came over me.â
Loki just mumbled your name as he cupped your chin and gently turned you so you met his gaze. There was a sure look in his eyes, and it told you everything you needed to know. This time, it was Loki who closed the gap between your faces, kissing you once more. His kiss was more tender, but very purposeful, and Loki wasted no time in darting his tongue past your lips.
You moaned into the kiss as you lost yourself in the emotions once more. For a moment, you forgot where you were as Loki became your entire world. Nothing existed beyond him and his kiss. And the taste of him was immediately intoxicating.
But, neither of you could stay like that forever, and after one last peck on your lips, Loki broke away. He stayed close to you, however, and his voice stayed low and soft and comforting, âLetâs get you out of here.â
Without a word, you nodded.
*
âSorry itâs not much,â you stood nervously at your front door as you let Loki inside your place, âIt must be completely different than what youâre used toâŚâ
Loki caressed you as he reassured you, âItâs wonderful, darling,â he purred. Truthfully, he wasnât even paying much attention to your place; Loki couldnât take his eyes off of you.
Feeling his heavy gaze on you, you turned back from where your eyes wandered around the living space and you felt a tingle up your spine at the way Loki eyed you, âLokiâŚâ you whispered.Â
Time felt like it stopped as you stared into each otherâs eyes. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt your heart pound. Between the way his hands cradled your form and the way he looked at you with those dark eyes, you knew exactly what Loki was thinking. And before you lost your nerve, you made your move.
You crashed yourself into him as you pressed your lips into his. Loki immediately yanked your close, his hands roaming up and down your sides as he deepened the kiss. Both of you moaned into each other as you savored the taste of the other. Heat rose in the room as passions erupted, and there was only one thing on both of your minds.
âBedroom is this way,â you murmured, your tone low, âYou want toâŚ?â
âI thought youâd never ask, my lovely,â Loki smirked.
Sliding your hand in his, you led the way, and Loki kept a cheeky grin on his face as he waved his hand the moment you crossed into the bedroom. Suddenly, all your clothes were piled neatly on the dresser, his next to yours. Before you could react to his antic, Loki pounced on you, crashing both your bodies onto the bed.
You landed on your back with Loki overtop of you. You gasped as you found yourself in such a vulnerable position, yet you werenât scared. You could never be scared of Loki. No, there was a different feeling that pulsed through your veins, and it made your body warm at the thought of what was to come.Â
Loki hovered over you, his hands on either side of your body. As he trailed up and down your figure with his eyes, Loki felt his cock harden and his heartbeat quicken, âYou are absolutely lovely,â he purred, âA decadence of perfection.â
All you could do was whimper as your mind went blank. No one ever whispered such sweet and beautiful words to you, or about you, before. Your hands roamed all over Lokiâs bare chest, and you felt a rush of need between your legs as he groaned at your touch. âPlease, Loki,â you whispered, âDonât tease me right now.â
He smiled down at you as he caressed the side of your head, âDonât worry, darling,â Lokiâs tone was just as low as yours, âLet me show you how a god makes love.â
The moan you let out echoed in the room as Loki leaned in and attached his lips to your skin. With expert precision, he nibbled and licked and sucked at every spot that made you mewl, as if he had touched you a thousand times before. Loki groaned into your skin as he kissed his way across your chest before latching onto your nipple.
You arched your back, allowing Loki more access to your body as you dug into his shoulders. Your mind swam in pleasure as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, driving you wild. Bucking your hips into his, you murmured his name once more, begging him for more.
âIâve got you, darling,â Loki hummed as he kissed his way back up your body, âExquisite,â his voice was a low rumble that went right to your core. Loki noticed of course, âYou like that, darling?â he asked, amused.
He didnât give you the chance to properly answer as he rocked his hips against yours, dragging his cock between your legs. The action made you moan even louder and you dropped your head down onto the mattress. âFuck⌠LokiâŚâ
He exhaled sharply with a grin as he did it again, feeling a tingle up his down spine as he rocked himself against your body. But, as much as Loki wanted to prolong this, the way you cried out, and especially moaned his name, made him more impatient than usual. âAre you ready, darling?â he asked as he reached between your bodies and lined his cock up with your entrance.
âYes,â you replied immediately, âPlease, Loki.â
Loki groaned as he slowly pushed himself inside you, feeling your warmth engulf him. Both of you gasped loudly as he filled you inch by inch. You cried out as he pushed deeper inside you, and you wrapped your arms and legs around him as much as you could, holding him tightly.
Once Lokiâs hips met yours, he immediately started a slow yet harsh pace. Skin slapped against skin as Loki drove his cock into you over and over again. Your mouth dropped open as the moans and cries flowed freely- music to his ears.
âThatâs it, darling,â Loki purred, âSo beautifulâŚâ he mourned your name as he lost himself in you.
As Lokiâs cock hit that one spot deep inside you, your eyes shot open and you screamed louder, âLoki! Fuck! Yes!â
He growled as he picked up his pace, aiming for that spot every time, âIâm close too, darling,â he groaned, âFuck, youâre so lovely.â
âLokiâŚâ you whimpered as you saw stars and felt your skin tingle.
It only took a few more thrusts for you to completely fall apart and you came with a loud scream. Your nails dug into his skin as your entire body trembled. Never in your life had you felt a pleasure like this, and it brought fresh tears to your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.
Loki groaned as he watched the spectacle you put on just for him. His arms trembled as he fought to keep himself overtop of you, not wanting to miss a moment of your climax. Although you couldnât hear over your screams, Loki mumbled soft praises as you came on his cock. And he had never seen anything in the nine realms more beautiful than you were right there in that moment.
And that was when Loki couldnât hold back any more. He came hard, his own orgasm overtaking his entire body. And Loki did something he had never done before in bed- he moaned your name as he spilled himself deep inside you. Tears of his own formed in the corners of his eyes as he gave one last thrust before he fell forward.
Heavy breaths filled the room as you both came down from your highs. Loki placed a series of feather light kisses on your skin wherever he could reach as he caressed your body tenderly. Once he gathered his strength, he carefully pulled out of you, kissing the side of your head as you gasped. Loki didnât go far, though, and he settled in your bed with you gathered safely and secretly in his arms. Together, the two of you laid like that for several moments in a comfortable silence.
Until you broke it with a question that had been on your mind for some time, âWhy me?â you asked.Â
Loki grinned, âRemember the day we first met?â he paused as you nodded, âYou can see beyond whatâs in front of you, and that, my lovely, is a rare occurrence in the universe,â Loki cradled you in his arms as you let out a deep breath, âSleep now. Iâll watch over you. Youâre always safe with me.â He placed a feather light kiss on your head.
âI know I am,â you yawned contently, âLoki IâŚâ you fell asleep mid thought.
Loki watched you for some time as he whispered to your sleeping form, âIâll protect you, darling. No one will ever harm you again, Iâll make sure of it.âÂ
As Loki watched you sleep, he noticed that the beat of your heart was the exact same rhythm that drew him to earth time and time again. It was like a siren song that called out to him although neither if you were aware of it. Was it soulmates, as your people would call it? Perhaps⌠but Loki was never one to believe such fables⌠until now. He smirked to himself before he fell asleep in the last place he expected. But it was right where he belonged. And you were right where you belonged: safely in his arms.
Summary:Â You have been dreaming of "your muse" for as long as you could remember, moments you swore were memories, but you had always brushed them off, just put the face you saw into your art. Little did you know, your muse was so close...
Pairing:Â Benedict Bridgerton x Female!ReaderÂ
Words:Â 2,160
Warnings:Â missed chances, angst with a happy ending, flashbacks
This is my November story for my Year of Creation: Soulmates! This challenge is being run by @yearofcreation2023, and you can find my masterlist for this challenge here!
Feedback fuels me!
You had never doubted that you would be an artist. Ever since you could remember, you had loved to draw and painting. As you grew, that love had only grown. Now, as an adult out of college and in a career, you considered art your âtrue loveâ. That fact had ended multiple relationships, too many men hating that art came before them. You had let them go, knowing that whoever you were meant to be with would understand, accept your art.
Part of you knew that you would recognize him when you saw him. The man you were meant to be with. You dreamt of him, you had for years now, most of the dreams only flashes of him. Even with more dreams as you grew, you still barely remembered what he looked like. But certain things you would remember: the curve of his jaw, the mischief in his smile, the warmth of his hands.
Part of you swore the dreams were flashes of past lives, leading you to him. If only you could remember those lives, remember him.
So you pushed that want into your pieces. You called him your âmuseâ, this unknown man. A lot of your last exhibit had been focused on him, lots of viewers loving the idea of a muse, a faceless one at that.
You just hoped that one day he could have a face in your work.
Benedict liked teaching art. It was fun, different than just wasting away days trying to do art like he had in his early 20âs. The school was fun, full of bright excited kids who either hung on every word or ignored him, and either way he liked his job.
Anthony, ever the worried older brother, was concerned that all the classes would leave Benedict little time for his art, but it seemed like that was the opposite case. Grading the art was easy, because the âgradingâ was as âAâ if the student did the work and put in the time, which was easy to see. After that, it left plenty of time for his own art.
And today, classes had not only been smooth and easy, which meant finishing early, and letting his students go early. They all filed out of the room smiling and talking among themselves. He hummed softly, shutting down his computer and ready to focus on his art for the evening, one of the perks of his own office; he could do his art there while being available to students.
âMiss!â one of his student cried, loud enough to be heard through the open door.
A woman laughed. âRiley, what are you doing in the hall?â
Benedict glanced up at the sound, spying one of his students talking to who Benedict assumed was another teacher, a woman in an apron covered in paint splatters.
Seeing her through the window, his mind flashed to something that felt like a dream.
-1504-
The shirt on his form felt strange, loose and scratchy. The room was full of sunlight, with canvases leaning against the back walls. The painting in front of him was half finished, the paint brush felt familiar, the palate in his off-hand different but familiar all the same.
He glanced out the open window, his breath hitching as his blue eyes fell down on the garden below the tower. She was taking her daily stroll, the daughter of her master. He know he shouldnât feel his way, shouldnât look at her like this, he just couldnât help it.
She was stunning.
He felt his breath leave him altogether as her eyes flickered up, meeting his gaze. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, his heart skipping a beat. Her cheeks turned the colors of the pink flower on her hand, and their gaze broke as her name was called. Her father, his master, joined her.
He looked away, taking a breath and focusing on the painting again.
Benedict let out the breath he was holding, his gaze locked onto her. How was this woman...the same girl? The same one in his dreams? His muse?
Was she all the same?
âWell, donât waste your day,â she told the student, before walking down the hall, waving.
Benedict watched her until she was out of sight, knowing just what he was going to paint today.
You loved your senior live sketch class. It was intense, different, and something you loved doing. Having live models for your students was something new to them up to them point, and gave them new challenges.
The only problem today was that the model that was supposed to be here had called out sick. And with no one to cover from the theater department (to your surprise), it was left to you to be the model. Giving tips and advice from the middle of the sketch circle was harder than you liked, but it was better than canceling class.
You had just finished one pose, stretching and giving everyone tips. All your students got water, sharpened their pencils, and flipped to a new page of their sketchbooks, and you shifted to a new pose. One of the students set a timer for 30 minutes, lofi music playing in the background as they all started, the sound of pencils against paper relaxing as you took slow breaths.
After some time, your eyes flickered to the windows, catching sight of someone peering in.
Your breath caught as you met his eyes, the strangerâs bright blue eyes reminding you of something...familiar.
-1814-
You shed the robe, ignoring the stares of the men in the room. You were used to them by now, having been a model at the Art Academy many times now. It paid well, and you needed the money, plus it was more preferred than other jobs available to you at the moment.
Sitting in the position directed by the professor, tilting your head down, you let your gaze focus on the wall in the right direction. As your eyes trailed that way, your gaze caught the eye of one of the students, a man you had seen before multiple times.
The heat in his eyes made you pause and your breath catch, and despite the let the urge to keep your gaze locked with his, you looked away, focusing on the point you had chosen.
You had met that manâs eyes too many times, felt his gaze linger too long. You had heard the stories from other girls, how he and other artists, specifically richer artists here liked to take extra time with models for...pleasure in other ways.
You could not deny you wanted that, but you knew doing so would only break you. He was rich, an artist, and beyond you in every way.
There was no reason to break the boundaries of artist and model.
You blinked as the man walked away, your breath leaving you.
Who was he?
Why was that smile, that gaze, that jawline...just like your museâs?
Benedict enjoyed the âEnd-of-Year Seniorâ Art gallery. He didnât really teach a senior level class, but had several students that were seniors through all of his classes, and always wanted to see their presented piece before they left the school.
Tonight, the first night of the gallery, was just for the staff and seniors. It left time for mingling with the students themselves, seeing the art, and connections between artists rather than teacher and student. Benedict had already seen his studentâs pieces and talked with them, congratulating them and telling them how proud he was of them and their work.
Now, he had a whiskey on the rocks in his hand (he loved an open bar for the staff), and he could move around the gallery and look at all the other art. His eyes scanned the room until, wondering what area he should make his way to first, when he noticed someone he barely recognized:
Her.
The woman from weeks ago, who had passed his classroom, that looked like his muse, the woman in his dreams.
She was talking with other students as well, in front of a wall of sketches, gesturing to the pieces and nodding along.
Benedictâs blue eyes stayed locked onto her for...he didnât know how long, falling into something that felt like a memory.
-1907-
He knew he shouldnât be looking at her. She was across the gallery, on the arm of her new husband. He had no place to be gazing at her, he had to look away.
âYour pieces are just beautiful, darling.â
Snapping out of his revere, he looked down to his wife, smiling. âThank you, my dear. I have a special one to show you.â
He lead her to a painting, her smile growing as she gasped, her hand on his arm squeezing. âIs it our wedding venue?â
âIndeed,â he muttered, kissing her temple. âFor my beautiful wife. Itâll go in our home after the showing.â
âItâs perfect, Ben.â
His gaze flickered to the painting to the left, one of a silhouette of a woman against a night sky. Anyone around them would think it was his wife, but only he knew it was the woman across the gallery, on the arm of her new husband.
The woman he could never have.
Benedict blinked out of the strange memory, his breath hitching as she looked up across the room, her gaze meeting his.
She froze, before smiling softly, her cheeks darkening. He smiled at the sight, taking a sip of his drink as he decided something.
You felt someone watching you as you finished talking with Avery, glancing up out of instinct. As you met the gaze of the person watching you, you realized immediately that it was the man that had passed your classroom weeks ago, the man that haunted your mind.
Your muse.
You smiled softly as his gaze stayed locked on you, feeling your cheeks warm. He smiled back, and you watched as he took a sip of the drink in his hands before walking towards you.
Oh fuck.
You took a breath to try and gain some courage before he got closer, taking a step away from the students. âHi,â he muttered.
âHello,â you replied, laughing softly.
âIâm Benedict Bridgerton, but most people call me Ben,â he introduced. âI teach in the painting department.â
âY/N,â you stated. âSketching department. I could never paint.â
He chuckled. âI donât blame you, itâs a lot.â He took a breath, then, licking his lips. âCall me crazy, but you seem...familiar.â
âYouâre not crazy,â you whispered. âI...I could swear Iâve drawn you too many times before.â
Benedictâs smile grew. âAnd Iâve painted you so many times yet not enough.â
You blushed and laughed. âI always just called you my muse.â
He chuckled, shrugging. âSame. My mother though, sheâŚâ He blushed, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight; he was adorable and you wanted to draw him.
âShe what?â you pushed quietly.
He stepped closer, his free hand barely brushing against yours. âShe always says I dreamed of my soulmate,â he whispered.
You held your breath, your eyes flickering to his lips. â...who knows...maybe sheâs right.â
âDonât tell her that, sheâll never let me live it down.â
You giggled, looking away, which made him chuckle. âHow about we get drinks first, and go from there, muse of mine?â you asked. âYou have a drink and I donât, afterall.â
âIâll do you one better,â Benedict stated, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. âHow about I take you to dinner after this?â
â...deal.â
-2 years later-
âMy darling. Love of my life. Muse of my soul.â
You glanced up with a smile to Benedict, who was sitting in front of his easel. âYes?â
He playfully glared at you, his blue eyes that you adored flickering back to the canvas. âStop moving.â
You giggled. âIâm trying not you. Youâre the one who continues to mess with your hair so I need to move and grab my supplies.â
He rolled his eyes. âWell whenever you move, I have to make sure Iâm painting the correct lighting and parts, so I get frustrated, hence my hair gets messy.â
Your smile grew. âIt is not my fault that I also want to depict my muse, sweetheart.â
Benedict groaned playfully, setting down his paintbrush. You stayed put but let your eyes follow him as he approached you, the man dragging the coffee table closer to you but out of view of his painting. âThere,â he muttered. âNow all your charcoal is closer.â
âThank you,â you replied softly. He stood fully, about to step away. âAh!â
Your fiance chuckled, leaning down and cupping your cheek. âAs if I could forget to kiss my soulmate,â he said, brushing his lips against yours.
You hummed happily, kissing him back. âThank you. Now, go paint before the light fades. I wonât move an inch.â
Benedict chuckled, moving back to his easel.
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