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narrators-journal · 1 year

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Peek-a-boo, I see you

Tiktok put a gun to my head and made me aware of Wally Darling, so have a random little fic for him to exorsize this bastard from my brain lol.

The creator is Clown shaped coffin if I remember his name right, and this is entirely non-canon fun. Just enjoy it as a spoopy kind of x reader junk food, and RESPECT THE CREATOR’S BOUNDARIES YOU HEATHENS.

Old tv shows were a mixed bag. Some were cheesy, dated, and full of misinformation, especially old children's educational shows, and some were sketchy and blatantly unacceptable by the modern standard. Which proved to be a fun betting game for you and your friends. So, when you found a box of dusty, sun-yellowed video tapes in your attic that had likely been left by a past resident, relics from the olden days of cable and the first VHS's, You thought a watch party of sorts would make for a fun night for you and your friends. Which, it had been! Even if finding a VHS player in today's modern time was a hassle, Welcome Home was a fun mix of colorful and energetic, simply oozing a charming abundance of cheese for your little group to enjoy. Which, made it all the more enjoyable to commentate over the child-friendly plots and loveable characters. From playing the low-stakes plots far too seriously, to wolf-whistling and making sly jokes about characters like Frank, Poppy, or Eddie, you and your friends had a blast as you watched about half of the first season. Which, was more than enough time for one particular character to wander his way into your heart and make it his home. Wally Darling. Wally Darling was easily a favorite amongst your friend group as soon as it was brought up how long he took to do his hair each morning in one episode. Which, had earned him quite a few playful comments and jabs, while the lot of you watched. Plus, he had been such a sleepy, relaxed character in juxtaposition to the light-hearted energy of Barnaby, or the bubbly extrovertism of Julie, so you found yourself putting the cheesy kids show on even after your party. "Geez Wally, are you only going to paint apples?!" Julie asked the main character on one of the occasions you had the third season playing for white noise during chores. "He could paint something a lot pervier, Julie." You said while folding clothes on your bed. Repeating a joke you had admittedly made more than one time at the episode and still laughing at your own implication as the episode obliviously played. Going through the motions of the bubbly girl dragging the yellow-skinned, blue-pompador'd artist around to find a muse that wasn't his favorite fruit. You, meanwhile, sat and half watched while you folded a towel and mulled over your to-do list for the day until the tape ended and you had to rewind it yet again. "Have you ever wanted to have a chat with your bestest friend, Wally Darling?" The Salesman in the opening ad asked, sounding as if he'd chugged three Monsters before recording the pitch. Showing clips of the aforementioned doll as he continued, "Have you wanted to ask him a question, but didn't know where to send a letter? Just say hello and how much you enjoy the show? Well, fret no more! for 25 cents a minute, you don't need to write him, you can call!" His words making you chuckle. After all, phone services nowadays were almost extinct, if they weren't more aligned with...adults than children. So, hearing the man pitch an outrageous price for a simple phonecall with someone claiming to be a cartoon character to assumedly children, was amusing. Though, to have such a wild price for a call must mean this show was fairly popular. Wonder why I've never heard it mentioned, You mused while the first episode began to play. Only to have a sudden thought pop up in your mind, Wonder if I could call the number still. It was a rash, impulsive thought. The number was almost certainly defunct and abandoned, it was bound to not go through and be a waste of time to try. Which, you knew very well. But, that didn't keep you from digging around in the scattered piles of folded and rumpled clothing until you found your phone half hidden under a stack of bed sheets. After that, dialing the number was a breeze since you'd heard that ad so many times. And, to your surprise, the call even seemed to go through! Just as fast as your curiosity shot up though, you jumped at a sudden, shrill scream of an old phone ringing. Yet, the only phone you had in your home was your cellphone, which was singing out a different chime into your ear. Which, only left one possible source for the sudden ringing in your room. The television. Granted, the phone on tv ringing normally wouldn't have been an issue. Wally was the Elmo of Welcome Home, he obviously got plenty of phone calls from his friends. It was just that...Wally wasn't supposed to have anybody calling him this episode. The episode was all about seeing a day in the life of Wally Darling. From his hour and a half of hair care, to his bedtime routine, the viewer was meant to follow him through the entire time. And, while yes the episode did have a one or two minor conflicts he helped with, they came up while he was out and about. So, by all forms of logic, his phone shouldn't be ringing. "Oh, seems we have a phone call." Wally drawled in his lazy, spacey voice. Pausing his explanation of what he often ate in the morning and what made a balanced diet to head for the land-line he had sitting on it's own little table beside his favorite armchair. However, before he could pick up and maybe speak to you, you smashed 'end call on your phone's screen and watched with no breath in your lungs as Wally's phone went silent as well. Earning a simple, "Oh. I guess they changed their mind. We'll have to be faster next time, neighbor." and a smile from the puppet. That wasn't in the script. The thought kept circling your head, taking over every possible sense with a fresh coat of fear with each lap. That wasn't in the script. Wally never gets a phone call in this episode. He never says that. You didn't know what to do with that information. It wasn't like you could blame a coincidence after all, you'd seen this entire tape from beginning to end more than once, and not a single time had Wally gotten a call this episode, or mentioned one. Yet, there he was. Acting as if your attempted call had been almost expected, and just returning to his script as if you weren't physically shaking like a small dog in a thunderstorm. What do I do? Do I tell my friends? Google it? Get a check-up? You thought, watching Wally go about doing the morning dishes blithely and mention his need to go to the shop for some groceries. Yet, that impulsive voice returned when Wally paused at the door, "Though, let's wait a moment. Just to see if that neighbor calls back." He suggested to the camera, "I'll give it two minutes, after that I really do need to go see Howdy." Yet another change from the script. An invitation, by all accounts. As if Wally somehow knew you were there. Watching him, still holding your phone, and debating trying to call again. I should call my friends. I shouldn't poke at this. The rational side of you said, leave this shit ALONE. Yet, you did neither. Instead of calling one of your friends to get their advice, you hit the redial option and looked back to the screen. Watching the puppet's bright red phone ring again, and the blue-haired...creature, pick up. "You know, neighbor. It's very rude to hang up so abruptly when you were the one to call." He hummed, his spacey, quiet voice drifting into your ear as crisply as if your best friend were speaking. Not only that, but he'd somehow known who had called him despite his land-line having no form of caller id. Wait, why is he- is he SMUG about my calling? You asked yourself, putting a hand to your chest to mindlessly try to slow your racing heartbeat while your brain whirled with panicked thoughts. Was it just a lucky guess that he knew you were calling back? Did he just know? Could he see you? As if to answer your questions, you honed back in on the episode, and sure enough. Wally was simply sitting in his arm chair, smiling and staring at you with large, bottomless voids for pupils. "Hello? Hello~" He sang finally, forcibly grounding you and assuring you that yes. This was reality. "Cat got your tongue, neighbor? Is there something you needed?" he asked, as if it were nothing more than one of the usual calls Julie or Frank might make. Yet, you could still hear the knowing tone laced into his ambling voice. Wally Darling, knew all too well what he was doing. Instantly, you wanted to simply hang up and shut off the tv. You wanted to unplug the thing and chuck it out your window like a frisbee. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to move an inch under that haunting stare of the cartoon character. So, you instead dry swallowed the lump in your throat and squeaked out, "H-hi..." "Oh, there you are." Wally hummed, "Was there something you wanted to talk about? Or did you perhaps need my help with something?" "N-no..." You forced out, barely a whisper through the terror that rooted you to your bed in a shocking state of calm. Adding quietly, "I just...tried this number." "Oh, well I sadly can't stay to chat. I have to go shopping before I forget." He told you innocently, giving you a sweet smile that now seemed sour as he added, "I would love it if you called again at a later date, though. Then, we can have a nice, lengthy chat. Good bye neighbor, I love you." With that, Wally put the phone back in it's cradle and the episode seemed to go back to utter normalcy. Wally going out to shop as if the conversation had never happened. Just, leaving you physically shaking on your bed with your laundry forgotten. And, admittedly, you stayed like that, utterly frozen, until the tape once again reached its end. Only then, you found you could launch yourself at the vhs player to snatch the black rectangle out of it. Quick to slap it back into its yellowing case and gather the other videos. All of a sudden, you could understand exactly why the original owners might have abandoned those seasons in the attic.

#Welcome home #Wally Darling #x reader #creepy #not canon at all #Welcome Home arg

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

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Play Me A Song

Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.

Warnings: none

A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.

You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.

Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.

“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.

You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.

You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”

Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.

“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”

What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.

“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.

“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.

He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.

“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.

You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”

The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.

“Oh, are you?” You tease him.

“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.

“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.

“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.

“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.

“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.

“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.

He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.

You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.

“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.

“Alright, last time.”

“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.

He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.

You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”

Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”

“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.

“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.

“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”

Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.

You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”

“But only from you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #tom holland drabble #thomas stanley holland #Peter Parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland fanfiction

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riktorart · 3 years

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“Welcome for the third, and (hopefully) final time to the auditorium, beloved students of Night Raven College! Yes, as many of you expect, this assembly is in regards to our ice cream fundraiser, which has yet to take off! However, now that I’ve recovered from my horrific injuries from last month’s assembly, I say it’s time for us to start anew, and introduce our new line of flavors!

… Why are you all groaning??? Truly you’ve not grown tired of ice cream already, have you?! … No, no, it can’t be… You all just must be far too excited to carry on! Very well! I shall introduce to you the newest flavors, and then you’ll be off! Making me… Err, the school, enough Madol to fix the chandelier that was broken (again) last week!

… Hm? Why aren’t we using the past flavors? … Well… You see there was a… Ah, would you look at the time! If we don’t start now, we’ll never finish! Vargas! Bring up the first cooler!!! NOW!!!

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Lemon Zestvolt- Don’t let his frown fool you, this sweet cream is actually quite sweet, with it’s mellow mix of lemon and lime that’ll make you smile! (... Though, it does take quite a while to actually get past the bitter aftertaste… And it’s surprisingly loud… And… It feels like it’s constantly judging my every move according to a standard that’s quite frankly unrealistic… And... You know what? We’re just going to move on for the sake of my self-confidence!)

Blue Berrygrotto- Despite it’s name, this treat’s name is quite deceiving! It’s not just blueberry, but in fact, a mix of eight different types of berries, all baked into a freshly warm pie and served a la Mode with a trustworthy smile~! (… Hm? What do you mean that sounds a bit much…? Ehrm, no matter!)

Even if it’s a bit… Wet, you won’t mind at all once you enjoy it’s wonderfully sophisticated taste! Ah and would you look at that! On sale for only 300 Madol! What a steal~! Make sure you stop by the cafeteria to buy a Blue Berrygrotto today!

Lion-Colored Kingsicle… Stick- … Well! There was a batch of ice cream in this cooler… And now it’s gone. We have no idea where it we- (... Oh, hold on, did we find them?) … Well! Turns out that as we speak, the original ice cream has been found tucked into obscure corners of the college where no person in their right mind would even think to look, or… On beds… (It seems the only reason they’ve been found is because they’ve begun to melt…)

… Well! We still have popsicle sticks available, so why not treat yourself with some? I’m sure at least one of you could find something to do with so many popsicle sticks!

(Warning: If you encounter this treat on your daily commute, simply back away slowly, and contact a trusted member of Night Raven College Staff to dispose of this treat. Do NOT engage. (Night Raven College is not liable for any injuries/death that may result in confrontation of this product.))

Coco’lover!- Ah, did you think this treat was simply coconut! Well, my delightful students, you are wrong! This ice cream is a delicate balance of coconut, and pistachios, a surprisingly friendly combo! … Well, that is as long as you like coconut… And pistachios… (On second thought, this combo wasn’t the best idea now, is it?)

… Ahem! I hear it pairs quite well with baked delights, so do keep that in mind!

Mortho Energy Drink… Sicle- Tell me children, would you like to stunt your growth by drinking unhealthy shots of pure caffeine? Well, I’m here to inform you that is a foolish idea! Why drink them, when you can eat them instead with an ice cream sponsored by Mortho™ Energy Drinks! Whether it’s for a late-night study session, or for an extra kick during finals, Good ol’ Mortho here will help to keep your poor body conscious against its will!

(... Also, please buy these as soon as possible. He’s beginning to miss one of our discontinued flavors, and will melt… (Night Raven College is not liable for injuries/death that may result from consumption of this product. If Mortho™ Energy Drink-Sickle commences Self-Destruction mode, toss it as far as possible, and duck for cover. To avoid such an occurrence from happening, do NOT insult any person with fire-like hair within the vicinity. It WILL hear you, and it WILL be upset.))

Catolate Diamikan- Do you need to take a… (Wait, what was that one site called…? Ah, yes!) MagiCam-worthy photo of yourself and friends? Well, fret no longer students, as this is the treat for you! A picture of you and Catolate’s smile is sure to be a hit! And if it’s not… Well, he’s flavored like white chocolate and oranges, so either way, you’re a winner!

(... Speaking of photos… Trien, why did you not like my “selfie” that I took earlier this afternoon? … Ah, you’re right! This isn’t the time for such trivialities! I shall simply discuss it with you later then!)

Mir-Lot- A treat based on the likeness of our beloved Magical Mirror itself! Doesn’t it look absolutely stunning, in all it’s glory? Ah, even this old bird can’t help but marvel at it’s timeless beauty… This treat is a nice, deep merlot-flavor, (non-alcoholic, of course!) that I’m sure more mature audiences will enjoy…

And even if you don’t… Well, you don’t want to hurt our beloved mirror’s feelings now, do you? You should buy one anyway, just so it knows for sure it’s appreciated~!

Berry Bad Cat- This… “Cute,” little feline’s filled with many surprises, and though most of them are a hassle… This surprise is actually quite pleasant! A bold blackberry taste, sprinkled with small popping candies that seem to light a spark along your taste buds… Why, it’s surprisingly easy to grow attached to it!

(… Wait, what do you mean my tongue has turned black?! Oh heavens, get me a mirror!!! And water!!!)

Ramshackle Special- Um… Well… This ice cream had no specific flavor. It was an amalgamation of every single flavor crafted so we could save funds and resources, and it was quite awful the majority of the time, so we’d lowered the price for 100 Madol, but… Before we even made the official announcement, someone snuck into my office and took every single one… Of course, they were at least kind enough to leave the funds for it all, but…

Oh, who cares about manners?! WHICH ONE OF YOU RELEASED FIREFLIES INTO MY OFFICE?! … Well, if no one will confess to the crime, then everyone will be punished for the crime! … Later, of course!

Now, like before, we have three special options that are just a tad bit above the rest in terms of flavor and appearances, so despite how kindhearted and generous I am… We will have to charge just a bit extra for these three. Surely you all understand~! These next treats are also quite limited, so if you desire to delight in one, make sure you buy them fast! Once they’re gone, they’re gone!!!

(Well… Not completely, but if people are under the illusion that there is no second chance, then they’re be far more likely to make impulsive purchases! Oh ho ho~ Dire, you clever, dapper man, you~ … Wait, did I say that out loud?)

… Anyway! Our first premium snack!

Rhymes Rosetarts- A delightful treat of sweet cherry tarts with cream and… Oh, is that actually a hint of roses I caught?! How interesting! I’d love nothing more than to dig in, yet… For some reason, I feel that even if my manners slip just a tad, that I’d be chastised… Ah, I suppose I will simply have to consume the treat carefully, lest my suspicions are confirmed true… Which they’re not!

(Night Raven College is not responsible for injuries/death resulting from consumption of this product. Make sure to review the rulebook supplied with each purchase before unwrapping this treat. Once it is free from it’s wrapper, it will always have it’s eyes on you…)

Varbucks™ Iced Protein Coffee- Are you fan of coffee? Or perhaps something sweet, but healthy? Well this treat i-”

“OI, DIRE! WHY AM I THE ONLY STAFF WHO’S ICE CREAM WAS AWFUL?!”

“A-ah! Professor Crewel! Well, err… I’ll… Get back to you on that, yes! So why don’t you have an ice cream and calm d-OWN NO, NO, NO!!! GET OFF THE STAGE I’M SORRY CREWEL PLEASE DON’T H-YAHHH!!!”

Apple Farmier- “... Well, I suppose since the Headmaster was forced to step away for “business,” I should wrap up this assembly. The final dessert available for purchase during our school fundraiser will be the... “Apple Farmier?” (... Crowley seems to have a knack for finding such strange names…)

The Apple Farmier is described to have an almost overly-sweet aroma of ripened apples, yet when bitten into, administers a horrific shock from it’s incredibly sour taste. Those who have tried it described an almost numbing sensation on their tongue, and one such person even lost consciousness as a result of it.”

“Meow.”

“(Hm? Quite right Lucious, thank you for the reminder.) If you purchase this treat, do be aware that our esteemed institution does not hold any accountability for any harm that comes upon you. Do consume the product at your own risk… As for the lot of you who’ve decided to fall asleep during the assembly, I shall see you in detention. In case you’re wondering, yes, I see you, and I will remember if you decide to “ditch.”

Now, you are dismissed. Vargas, please make sure the students return to class while I check upon the Headmaster’s condition… (And hopefully this will be the last of these tedious assemblies…)”

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Bonus

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Lionel Kingsbutter- “Have you ever sat down and thought, “Hm, there seems to be something missing in my life… Something… Hard, surprisingly sweet… And yet, something with a mean bite to match it’s bark?” Well, this treat has no bark, but it does have quite a bite! Smooth, delightful cookie butter than just melts upon your tongue, and plentiful chunks of crispy cookies! They’re a bit… Spicy… But strangely... Delicious! (... Water… I need water...! … Thank you, Trien.)

And if that’s not enough, why, just look at it’s adorable little ears, and i-YEOWCH!!! DID IT JUST BITE ME?! IT’S FROZEN CREAM, HOW DID IT DO THAT?! BAD KITTY, BAD KITTY! WHERE’S THE TRASH C-AAAAH IT’S LATCHED ONTO MY CLAWS!!! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY GET IT OFF!!! GYAAAAAAAH!!!”

#Twisted Wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Sebek Zigvolt #Azul Ashengrotto #Trey Clover #Ortho Shroud #Cater Diamond #Grim Twisted Wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #Ashton Vargas #Epel Felmier #Fan Art #Digital Art #Riktor's Art

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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The Oncoming Storm Part 10: Distance

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Man, the vibe between these two fine men is so different. I'm so into it! ALSO have some exciting stuff coming. Gonna try to update both days this weekend, and then setup some... very spicy/fun/dangerous romance stuff? Might add in some "choose your own adventure" style choices before we get to that big choice Lol. ENJOY! Much love.

Part 9 Part 11 Chapter Index

You rested on your side with your head in Kung Lao’s lap, a decision that you’d had no part in making. He held your hand while the monks tended to the wound on your side. You’d pulled more of your stitches than you’d noticed when you and Liu Kang had stopped to examine your wound. You could hear him saying he told you so in your head. You owed him an apology, you supposed. Kung Lao’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand and you were momentarily distracted from the rest of night.

Your exceptionally long awful horrible and terribly confusing but also kind of wonderful night. What a whirlwind.

The way that the monks fretted over you was embarrassing. It had done nothing to ease Kung Lao’s obvious guilt. You were fine! They’d been practicing and it had been an accident. Besides that, you’d had fun with him. You hadn’t wanted him to go easy on you and he hadn’t. You were grateful. Would he ever trust himself in a fight against you again?

After a lengthy discussion out of earshot the monks decided to cauterize the wound to prevent further bleeding since you didn’t seem to be clotting properly on your own. You’d agreed when it had been presented as the only option just to feel like you’d had some say in it. Liu Kang had done the same for your arm the other day and you wished he were there to do it this time too. You’d been spoiled by his magic in comparison.

They’d hooked you up to an IV of fluids to help you recover from the blood loss and set upon the task. It was a painful and miserable process that crippled you from the onset. Kung Lao stroked your hair soothingly and urged you to squeeze his hand. You weren’t sure if he was helping or not, but it was sweet of him to try.

Once the agonizing process ended, the monks suggested you stay for a while so they could keep an eye on you. While they cared for you on and off, Kung Lao talked. He was good at that. He comforted you with distraction and told terrible jokes to try and make you laugh. Eventually silence had fallen, and he had taken to running his fingers through your hair with his eyes closed.

From the way the monks spoke, morning was fast approaching. You hadn’t felt so exhausted and afraid to sleep in years. If everything hadn’t been such a mess, then you would have been impressed. As time passed the pain faded to a near memory. It was only then that you realized that you hadn’t spoken a single word since you’d agreed to have your wound cauterized.

“You don’t have to stay.” If Kung Lao needed you to absolve him of guilt, then you would gladly do so.

“I’m staying.”

“It’s been a long night, Kung Lao. You need rest too.”

“I’m not leaving until you can.”

“You don’t owe me this, Kung Lao. This isn’t your fault.” You turned so that you were rested on your back and Kung Lao helped you settle against his legs. Of all the places you thought you’d end up, head rested in Kung Lao’s lap was not one of them. Boy, you could use a drink.

“Then whose fault is it, exactly? Yours?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know that it’s not my fault, Y/N.”

“Could you tell that to your face?” You reached to poke the underside of his chin. He smiled, as if relieved to see you joking with him again.

“I’m staying. And I’ll make sure you get back to your room.” He poked you right in the chest.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is that I am being perfectly charming and on my best behavior and you’re arguing with me all while using me as a pillow without so much as a thank you. You can’t just use me, Y/N.” He said it in that boyish way, as though he was teasing you for having a crush on him. You definitely had had a crush on him when you were a kid. You didn’t know what you felt about anything anymore.

You laughed and swatted at his hand that rested on your shoulder. It hurt to laugh. “I could be here for a long time. You’re better off not waiting for me. Presumably, you have things to do today and probably got an hour of sleep at most.”

“Well, you’re lucky that I’m curious to see how long it takes before my legs go numb beneath your dainty little head.” He patted your shoulder and so you reached to pat his hand. Just as when you’d been kids there was no arguing with him. He would do what he wanted to do and there was no stopping him no matter how idiotic it was.

“Well, if I fall asleep and drool on you then that’s your fault.”

“I’ve come to terms with this disgusting sounding fate, Y/N. You’ll just owe me.”

“I will not be in your debt, Kung Lao.”

“You already are. I saved you from that fire, remember?”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were keeping tabs!” You closed your eyes.

“I never forget, Y/N.” He whispered, picking up your hand and tracing lines along your palm with his index finger. He then regaled you with a tale of a time where he’d run an errand for Raiden and had dislocated his shoulder, tried to pop it back into place and had done a piss poor job of it. You cringed the whole time, but he had been delighted in disgusting you without you being able to escape. His voice droned on and you almost fell asleep.

Thankfully, a monk came over to you and asked you to sit up. Kung Lao, without being asked, helped you upright. It was remarkable how comfortable he was with touching you. Chen, the monk, was one of the few who you had formed a bond with during your stay in the infirmary. She’d taken to teasing you about your close friendship with Liu Kang and from the look in your eyes, you were certain this moment was only going to make that teasing far worse. You could see it in Chen’s dark eyes. It was coming.

Chen tested your reflexes, took your pulse, and checked on your wound before removing the IV and wrapping the wound tightly. “Alright, Y/N. Everything looks okay. No more bleeding and you’ve finally got some color back. Promise me that you’ll rest. And that you’ll stop bleeding all over our temple?”

“Listen, I didn’t try to bleed on anything!” You assured your friend who looked at you as if to say that was a lie and that if she saw you in the infirmary for a new wound by the end of the day then you wouldn’t hear the end of it. You avoided eye contact. “I’ll rest. I promise.”

Getting to your feet, Kung Lao joined you and offered you an arm to steady you. You swatted it, blushed, and then walked on your own out of the infirmary. Kung Lao’s eyes were on you as you went and then he followed behind you.

“Hey, you’ve got enough color back to blush again. That’s a good sign.” He leaned close enough to your cheek for you to feel his breath and you swatted at him again. For someone you hadn’t seen for years he certainly was comfortable being in your personal space.

“I’m not blushing. And I was fine, even before.”

“Is it so hard to admit that I make you blush a little?” He teased. “And you were definitely not fine. No one’s going to believe you when you say that if you keep lying.”

“I wasn’t lying!”

“It’s okay to be honest about your feelings, Y/N. All of them. Really.” He stopped in front of you, and you stumbled to a stop before him, having to place a hand against his chest to steady yourself. You took a step back and he tilted his head confidently, giving you that smirk that could melt pretty much any heart, you were sure.

“Kung Lao, really?” You rolled your eyes at him, but your heart was definitely fluttering in your chest, betraying you. “Look, I’m going back to my room now. You can go do… whatever it is you do around here, Lao.”

“Right now, I happen to be walking you back to your room.” He shrugged. “Are you feeling weak, Y/N? Do you need me to carry you?” If he hadn’t said it in such a teasing and taunting sort of way, then you probably would have considered it. Your face was hot with embarrassment. He grinned in delight, proud to have thrown you off.

“I think you’re overtired, Kung Lao. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” If he was going to tease you, then you would tease him right back. It was only fair, after all. You stepped a bit closer to him and he cocked a curious eyebrow. You tilted your head back as you drew closer and made to touch his chest but then pulled your hand back at the last second. He was very still. “I can walk just fine.”

You then stepped around him and continued down the hall. He turned to watch you walk away, and your face burned but you talked yourself down quickly. Then he hurried his pace to catch up with you and joined you in your walk. It was quiet after that for the most part, as if you both had plenty to think about. You were tired. Drop dead tired. Even so, you felt far more stable on your feet than you had the rest of that night. The quiet gave you time to think, which you weren’t sure you liked or not. You had way too much to think about.

When you made it to your room, you pushed open the door and thought your bed had never looked more inviting. It wasn’t even a particularly comfortable bed, but you were still looking forward to flopping into it. You turned to find that Kung Lao remained in your doorway, resting against the frame with his arms folded over his chest, admiring you with a smile. He did that a lot- openly admired you. You were going to have to find a way to cope with all this damn blushing.

“You’re up for me staying a bit, right?”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Just a little bit.” Kung Lao walked past you anyway, and you sighed and closed the door behind him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him there it was just that you also really wanted to sleep. Sunlight was peaking over the mountains on the other side of the ravine. Kung Lao dragged the chair from your desk and sat backwards on it. You sat on your bed and held your hand over the gauze on your side. It had a solid heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Kung Lao fiddled with things on your desk, picking up the journal that you and Liu Kang had been working in.

He flipped through the pages and you thought he looked a little sad, but as quickly as you had thought it, it was gone, and he looked bored. He closed the journal and then waved it toward you. “I thought that Liu Kang was just trying to flirt with you when he said study because that’s what I would have done. But you guys really study, huh? Your handwriting is awful by the way, especially for someone with ink arcana.”

“You’re less funny than you think you are. But yes, we actually study.” You were never sure what to do with the offhand flirtatious comments but teasing him in return seemed like the way the go. “You probably don’t remember this since we weren’t in the same class and I was kicked out of school before we got close but… I’m passionate about learning new things. Liu is an excellent and curious teacher. It’s been really nice.” You smiled in memory. It felt like it had been ages since they’d studied, and you missed it. “We’ve grown pretty close since you’ve been gone. I’m grateful to him.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He didn’t even try to hide how he rolled his eyes and you scoffed in disbelief and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Liu Kang is a good friend to have. And so are you when you’re not being defensive.” He stood up and dragged the chair closer to the bed then sat back down. He kicked off his shoes and then placed his feet on the bed. You stared at them disapprovingly and he purposely moved them, so his legs were rested just next to yours, barely not touching you. “It was a lie, you know.”

“Huh? What was? Something Liu said or…?”

“No, definitely not. Liu is an atrocious liar. Me on the other hand? Practiced liar. So yeah, it was me. I lied to you.” He shrugged and then rested his folded arms behind his head. He was avoiding your eyes, something he seemed to do when he felt guilty. When he noticed you looking, he tilted his head, so the hat obstructed your view of his eyes. That was still extremely attractive. “When you first woke up after the fire, I told you that I would visit town because I had become fond of your dojo and your store. That it was a beacon of peace.”

“And that’s a lie? Why would you like about something so trivial?”

“You don’t need to know the reasons.” He shrugged and tilted his gaze back to you. His smile was confident, but his eyes commanded all your attention. They went from playful to serious so quickly it was giving you whiplash. You suddenly felt as if your tongue was blocking your throat and your brain went blank. All that was left to focus on was Kung Lao. “I came to see you.” He pulled his legs back from the bed and leaned closer in his chair, studying your response. It seemed like a harmless lie so why was he telling you this now? “I didn’t know that you were my Y/N but I was still drawn to you. Watching you was what brought me peace when often I struggled finding any.”

“Kung Lao…” This felt like a confession, but what the confession was he hadn’t said. They had a thousand things to talk about and this was where he started? Not the visions? Not the ink? No, his inner turmoil and the peace that you had brought him without knowing.

“If I had known that you were my Y/N then I would have been far more forward with you than I was.” He pulled off his hat and set it next to you on the bed, then rested his hands on either side of the bed next to you. You couldn’t remember him ever flirting with you back then, but you had seen many faces and most of his visits were a blur. You remembered him as harmless and thoughtful. Those were fond memories. You smiled and averted your eyes. “No? Too much?” He smiled that confident smile even against your silence.

“I’m thinking.” You laughed.

“Guy puts it out there and you just stare…”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Kung Lao.”

“Anything would do.”

“You’re very sweet.”

“Ouch.”

“No! No, don’t be like that, Kung Lao.” You laughed and without realizing you’d unconsciously moved closer to him. “Really, I didn’t even consider who you could be back then. You were a strange fellow from out of town who enjoyed sitting in the peace of my dad’s place. Honestly, that feels like a different life now.”

“So, where’s the but?”

“There is none.” You furrowed your brow and his thumb overlapped yours on the bed. “This is a lot, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He considered, but he was studying you, and it made you incredibly uncomfortable. This way his eyes looked you over from head to toe, not to objectify you entirely, but rather to try and gauge what you were really thinking and what happened beyond what you told him. While your eyes apparently spoke in novels to Liu Kang, Kung Lao read your body language like a book you had forbidden him to read. Never in a million years did you think that you’d be in a dilemma where your heart was torn between two men. You’d been in relationships before but most of them had been with men from out of town who you rarely saw and had been short lived. Most of the people living in your hometown that were your age were still afraid of you.

“I don’t know what to say.” You finally decided.

“Because of Liu?”

“Well, I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to say. You say a lot without saying much at all, Kung Lao. I will admit that I think of Liu Kang very fondly. Yet, it is a very strange and emotional thing to see you again after thinking that you were dead- something I would like to talk about eventually, by the way.”

“That’s less important than this right now.” He tapped the bed and spoke very quietly, and you watched his lips form every word.

“I feel selfish, Kung Lao.”

“We are allowed to be selfish at times. You were like that as a kid too. Have some fun with me, Y/N.”

“Wow.” You laughed and as he went to say something else, you pulled your hand back from where his thumb had hooked over yours. His eyes were like big puppy dog eyes. He gave you the shivers and it took everything inside of you not to shake with them.

“Come on. You like me.” He teased.

“Kung Lao, now is not…”

“If this is because of Liu Kang? Trust me, I can change your mind.”

“No, I… excuse me?”

“You were going to say something. Continue.” He leaned just enough back to let you breathe. You were so confused. What did he even mean? You had to think about it. You had to think about a lot of things. He and Liu Kang were family. You didn’t want them to fight because of you. You would sooner turn away from them both. Then there was the nagging truth of everything else.

“I’m afraid.” You confessed and as the words came out, you felt a sudden great weight on your shoulders. “For the first time in so long, I’m afraid. Since back then, Kung Lao.”

“I know you saw things then.” He moistened his lips with his tongue and his lips remained parted for just one second before he sighed and seemed to reconsider. “I asked you if you were a witch once and you got all annoyed at me.”

“In my defense, the other kids called me that and threw shit at me, Kung Lao. I was afraid that I was a witch. That I’d never be normal. Then you died and I grew out of it. Now here you are and here I am and all the things I lost as a kid are back. And I attacked Liu Kang without knowing. I don’t know what to think and then you being so forward and Liu being like he is… I’m overwhelmed. I keep thinking that maybe this is what I’m meant for.”

Kung Lao’s whole demeanor changed from flirtatious to serious and you were grateful for him listening. You hadn’t meant to say all that you’d said. It’d just come out. “No, Y/N. You’re a fighter. I know you are. I always knew that you were even back then. And I knew what was happening to you as a kid, too. Or I guessed it at least. I always thought that it made you even more special. Normal is overrated.” Kung Lao placed a hand to your lips to stop you from talking but quickly pulled it back. “Liu’s tough. I’m sure he was fine. And so am I. We can handle whatever you throw at us, knowing or not. I’m sure he’s up to the challenge.”

“Lao…”

“I will help you fight. I won’t watch you waste away here speaking in nothing but the future.” He placed his hands on either side of you again. “And I’m sorry about your side. I know it was an accident but I’m still sorry for the trouble it caused you.”

“I’m not. I wanted to fight. I didn’t want you to go easy on me. I had fun. I had so much fun, and it was nice not to be treated like something frail.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” He picked up your hand and brought the back of it to his lips where he made very purposeful eye contact with you and placed a soft kiss upon it. Words were lost to you again. He pulled your hand back from his lips but didn’t let go of it. “Do you remember when we were kids and would pretend that we were like those martial artists in the movies your grandma had? I may have been reliving those days a little when we fought. Except we both knew what we were doing and could have given those actors a run for their money.” His attention was paid mostly to your hand and his thumb brushed over the back of it. “You’re still so pale. Even after everything. You weren’t before we fought.”

“Maybe I always will be now.” You finally managed to say something, but it wasn’t any of the things you wanted to say either. That crush you’d had on him as a kid was rearing its ugly head again. It had been the silliest crush. You’d both been so young and understood so little of the truth of life but there it was. You’d credited that memory of him to ruining every relationship you’d ever had. No one could ever be Kung Lao. But there he was. Alive and the memory of his lips against the back of your hand at the forefront of your thoughts.

“Don’t resign to a fate of serving others, Y/N. You’re made for more than that.”

“I’m not resigning to anything but I’m not a fool.”

“Just don’t give up.”

“I’m not. I didn’t mean to sound like I was. Honestly, that all came out of me without meaning to.”

“Like you said: this is overwhelming.” Kung Lao released your hand and with that seemed to release the hold he had over you too. “I should let you rest, Y/N. For now.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” You managed to joke at last and scooted back onto the bed. Kung Lao stood, replaced your chair, and then offered you a short bow.

“Get some rest because the next time I see you, I’m not holding anything back.”

“You’re so much trouble, Kung Lao.”

“You’re welcome.” He left without another word, closing your door behind him. You sunk back into the bed and pulled the blankets over your head with a whine. You were never going to sleep again at this rate. Liu Kang and the wild fiery tension he brought with him and Kung Lao with his nostalgia, teasing you and dripping in romance. You supposed that of all the problems you had, those two were at least fun problems to have even if you swore that they were going to send you into cardiac arrest. You drifted to sleep, more mixed up than you had ever been.

#kung lao #kung lao x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #kung lao/reader #liu kang/reader #angst #romance #love triangle #danger #fanfic #fanfiction #mk fanfiction #ludi lin #max huang #mk kung lao #mk liu kang

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downtonabbeyrevisited · 3 years

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Season Two Episode Two

Following a typically chaotic opener, Episode Two of Season Two strikes a far more sombre tone. The arrival of Henry Lang as Robert’s valet brings the first of this episode’s three plot points that address the impact of WW1 on the mental health of its soldiers. There is nothing funny to say about either shell-shock or suicidal ideation both of which are vast, complex issues that, for my money, Downton Abbey isn’t the vehicle explore in (because they require more time and depth than the pace of the plot in Season Two affords) and it certainly isn’t my place to make light of them in this rather irreverent corner of the internet. So I’m going to have a go at treading a fine line here. Forgive me if I stumble.

Lang is clearly in the grips of something awful and yet in an attempt to avoid the indignity of having maids in the dining room, he is bumped up to footman duty. He struggles throughout, culminating in him depositing his cargo on Edith’s dress. Mrs O’Brein has firmly taken Lang under her wing, recognising that he is struggling and offers him assurance and comfort that she has never gifted to Thomas.

Across the Village, Lieutenant Edward Courtenay is in the hospital having been blinded by gas. The use of gas (both chlorine and mustard) had a devastating impact on soldiers in WW1 but was also the root of the development of Zyklon B. Frtiz Haber, a German Jewish chemist, enabled chlorine gas to be used a weapon in WW1 and his research was later developed into the Zyklon process which was used by the Nazis to murder millions, including his own family. This is only one of a dizzying number of appalling ironies to be found in the World Wars but as I said last episode, I’m not a military historian so I’m going to leave it there. Edward had plans to return to the country after his graduation from Oxford to pursue the simple life (although one gets the feeling that his idea of the pursuit of a simple life will still be one that is very well upholstered). Thomas has taken it upon himself to read Edward’s letters to him and together with Sybil is helping him to adjust to living life with a different set of parameters. But growing pressure on the hospital’s limited capacity means that he is to be transferred elsewhere. All three voice their dissent at varying volumes to Major Clarkson who falls back on the very real backlog of wounded men. After Edward has died, Major Clarkson, Isobel and Sybil talk about a renewed need for the Abbey to become a convalescent home, an idea that has been bubbling under the surface for a while now. Meanwhile, Thomas has been left on his own to process both Edward’s death and the implications of witnessing a lack of support given by his own physician to those with depression.

The usually reliably jovial Mrs Patmore also has a more somber episode with her pursuit for the truth about the death of her nephew Archie. Robert finds that he has been shot for cowardice. Not only does this mean that her family is in mourning but they will now have to navigate the stigma and undue shame that came with having a relative die in this way. So entrenched in British life was the derision levelled at those who were shot for cowardice or desertion that it was only in 2006 that pardons were offered by Britain for 309 of those that were executed by firing squad during WW1. I know I said I’d leave it there with the military history, but that felt like an important bit of context.

We are now in 1917 and Matthew is still in the same trench that he was in 1916 (a detail I hadn’t actually noticed until I got the screen cap for this) so it looks like his strategy of downing tools mid-fight and continuously popping back to Blighty for important plot developments isn’t really paying dividends. Perhaps the addition of William to the ranks will help him? William certainly seems to think so and if the speed at which he moves through the various stages of his ‘relationship’ with Daisy is any indication of his tactical prowess, the British Front will not only be well within Germany’s borders but will be breathing down Russia’s neck in a fortnight. In any other episode, this would certainly get the award for oddest relationship dynamic but Sir Richard Carlisle exists.

Sir Richard makes his debut at Downton, having been introduced in name only in the previous episode. He and Mary met at Cliveden which is a regular haunt of mine, giving me hope that one day I too will from a strategic alliance with a newspaper magnate. He may know how to talk his way around a boardroom but he is lacking in the sartorial department. Whilst Sir Richard manages to avoid catching fire in his tweed, Lavinia is not free from the heat as he threatens her with his connection to her uncle. He may not know much about navigating the niceties of Downton, but at least he has cottoned on to the fact that any major disagreement should occur under a specific tree. Whilst Mary’s signature move is weeping into her gloves, Sir Richard’s is grabbing women by the forearm. A female friend of mine told me that one of her favourite things about the pandemic and the compulsion to keep 2m away from anyone (and not just emotionally) is that she has not been ’steered’ by a male hand on her lower back since 2019. It turns out that she can enter and exit rooms just fine on her own and I get the impression that Lavinia could get the gist of Sir Richard’s rage without the vice like grip of a man probably about twice her age.

Twinned with the ’tree of emotional conflict’, the ‘platform of romantic uncertainty’ provides the backdrop for Sir Richard’s proposal of marriage to Mary which is a declaration that really feels like it should come with a series of well-formatted charts. Mary’s heart, however, is still very much with Cousin Matthew. After being counselled by Carson in a type of conversation I cannot imagine her ever having with her father, she is on the verge of coming clean with Matthew. But in the second round of Lavinia vs. Mary, Lavinia declares that she ‘could not go on living’ without Matthew and Mary winds her neck in.

Also having a romantic entanglement this episode is Edith. Drake, previously of dropsy fame, has lost his farm hands and Edith turns up to offer her help in a wildly unsuitable trouser and heeled boot combo. But she soon gets down to it by pulling up a tree stump and flirting in a barn whilst a rather lovely border collie looks on (I’m currently trying to talk myself out of getting a border collie and this incident has done nothing to help things). After showing Drake that she can drink from a bottle like literally every single other human on the planet, the two share a kiss and some highly awkward dialogue that only slightly resembles ‘Carry on Downton’.

Whilst Edith is more than happy to crack on in a barn, Mr Molesley is much more backwards about coming forwards. Apparently having predicted the creation of ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society’, he figures that a book is the perfect kindling for romance when you exist in a glossy depiction of the past. Sadly neither Elizabeth nor her German garden can lure Anna from Bates who is fast shaping up to be schrodinger’s boyfriend. Anna proceeds to make some odd analogy where she compares Mr Bates to her moon-based child, revealing a rather unhealthy amount of codependency in that particular relationship.

Romantic declaration of the moment

Again, it feels like anyone but Sybil and Branson should get this but I am an agent of chaos and here we are. Branson defends Sybil’s will to work and has ample opportunity to see her shine in her chosen field. The admission that she will not be returning to her old life is a little chink of light that Branson basks in.

Expressive eyebrow of the week

I nominate Carson’s entire face when he realises that he has taken on too much and goes an impressive shade of red. As Carson frets about spoons, sauce, and something I can’t quite fathom, he starts to resemble a man who is re-arranging the deckchairs on the Titanic. Carson’s battle to get a cork out of a bottle and knocking into chairs is a warm up to his rather dramatic collapse which is accompanied by a pretty disturbing groan. Sybil springs to action and he is soon efficiently ensconced in his own quarters.

Wait, what?

“I got a lot done on the train” Clearly Richard was on a train that was unencumbered with the wifi issues that plague the Pendolino.

“It takes a good deal more than that to shock me.” Mary’s shock-o-meter is a pretty odd instrument. It is unresponsive to corpses of diplomats but goes into absolute meltdown at the notion that she might have to live in a cottage.

“Let's hope my reputation will survive it.” I’ve not checked (and I categorically never will) but I would put money on the fact that someone has created a rarepair out of this.

“How can Matthew have chosen that little blonde piece?” Is Lavinia blonde? Women’s hair is not really my forte but I would have thought she was more akin to Tim Minchin than 1998 Justin Timberlake.

“I believe in this war. I believe in what we are fighting for.” William seems to have a better grip on what all of this is about than I ever did in high school history. The ‘A’ that eluded me is heading his way.

“I thought he might've died for love of you.” How I love snipey Thomas. It’s good to have him back. To borrow a quote from Bottas (another man who is currently living a life in which his destiny is his own demise) ‘traditions’.

“Fold it in, don’t slap it” The more season two goes on, the more I think that Moira is just an amalgamation of some choice elements of Julian’s kingdom.

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

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Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 9

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend?

Word Count: 4.3K

You bounced your knee impatiently to the beat of the loud party music that was so loud it was vibrating the walls. For the first time in a long while you weren't in the mood to drink. So here you were sitting on a sofa in the middle of a crowded living room on a Saturday night. You were watching Sasha and Connie play a rousing game of beer pong against Bertholdt and Reiner. Annie, the only other sober person at the party, sat to your left scrolling through her phone. The rest of the people at the party were crowded into the kitchen or the basement. You had only been here about an hour and already the majority of the guests were drunk. Mikasa, Armin, and Eren had not yet arrived, you hoped that they would get here soon. Jean and Marco had disappeared about twenty minutes ago, leaving you stranded in the living room. You sighed and looked down at your phone, it was already eleven thirty. Just as you were setting your phone down you got a text.

"Be there in twenty" Mikasa's text put you at ease, you could survive for twenty more minutes.

"Okay, drive safe." You shoved your phone back into your pocket and stood up. Maybe you should drink tonight, your week had been stressful your homework load increasing substantially due to the end of the semester approaching. You wandered into the kitchen, pushing past a group of boys to get to the alcohol. You poured yourself a full shot glass of Pink Whitney and knocked the beverage back with ease.

"I didn't know Erwin's baby sister drank." A voice drawled from your right. You scrunched your nose, still feeling the burn of the alcohol as you turned to see who had addressed you.

"She does." you grumbled as you reached for a bottle of Smirnoff ice.

"I'm impressed." now his hand had crept into your line of sight, hungry for your attention. Hoping to deter the stranger you turned and frowned at him. You noted that he was clearly older than you with a shock of light blonde hair atop his head, when you met his eyes you couldn't help but admire his hazel hues as his own gaze took in your appearance. He slowly lifted a red solo cup to his lips and took a sip, his eyes now locked on yours.

"So, what's your name?" he asked.

"Thought you knew me." you countered as you lifted your own drink to your lips.

"I do, just asking out of courtesy." he shrugged, a sly smirk spreading over his face.

"Fine I'll play along. My name is (Y/n), and yours is?" you scoffed with a dramatic eye roll.

"Pleasure to meet you miss (Y/n), my name is Colt Grice." the boy said with a light chuckle.

"So tell me, how exactly do you know my name?" you quizzed, the alcohol making you feel bolder. The boy sighed and glanced up at the ceiling in thought.

"Hm well let's see...for starters I follow you on instagram. I also went to a football summer camp with your brother once." He answered, flashing you a bright smile.

"Ah gotcha." you nodded as you took a long sip of your drink. You turned, quickly losing interest in this conversation.

"Say, where is your brother?" Colt pressed, ah there it was.

"Out." you answered curtly as you turned to flee. You were shocked to feel a strong hand clasp around your bicep and pull you back. You spun around with full intention of smashing your bottle against this handsy creep. But he caught your wrist, with your hands out of commission he pulled you backwards into a dark hallway. Your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your head as he pushed you against the wall.

"What. Are. You. Doing." you hissed a blind sense of rage washing over your senses.

"Look, just listen okay? I've been trying to get in touch with him for a few days now, I've got some questions for him." Colt's hazel eyes were wide and vulnerable as he begged for your attention once more.

"Let go of me."

"Please just ask him to check his instagram DMs, tell him it's important."

"Fine, let go of me." he dropped his hands and quickly shoved them into the pockets of his joggers.

"Sorry." he mumbled as he kicked the wood floor with the toe of his shoe.

"Just don't do that again." you snapped as you wrapped your own hand around your wrist, where he had held you.

"I promise I won't." he looked embarrassed now as he waved his hands in surrender.

"Good." you eyed him suspiciously as you moved to slip past him. He let you past, you walked briskly back into the kitchen, which was still busy. Just as you turned to wander back into the living room you bumped right into Eren. Thankfully your drink was mostly empty and Eren seemed to have just walked into the room so he was empty handed. His hand grabbed your bicep to steady you, which you were thankful for.

"Eren, when did you get here?" you asked as he squeezed your arm and smiled down on you. He had recently gone through a huge growth spurt, now standing at 5'9 instead of his previous height of 5'7.

"I just got here." he answered, still holding you close to him.

"What about Mikasa and Armin, did they come too?" you asked as you lifted your drink to your lips to finish the bottle.

"Armin wasn't feeling up for this scene so Mikasa is taking him home." Eren answered as he shifted his weight to prop himself up against the wall, bringing you with him. You grunted as your shoulder hit the wall, Eren let his hand slide down your arm slowly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It had been quite some time since Eren had been to handsy with you, ever since you had started seeing Jean he had kept his hands to himself. Before you had began talking to Jean, all of your friends predicted that you and Eren would get together.

"Sounds like him." you giggled, craning your neck to peer around his broad shoulders to get a glimpse of the living room. Sasha scampered after a stray ping pong ball, loosing her footing she face planted, the sound of laughter filled the room and you smiled as you watched her snatch the ball and pick herself up.

"Yeah, I don't think Mikasa is coming back here either..." Eren continued, angling his body to block your view of the living room and redirect your attention back onto him.

"Really? Why? I was looking forward to seeing her." you pouted as you looked up at Eren.

"Where's horseface huh?" Eren quizzed, a playful gleam in his striking green eyes.

"Who knows?" you shrugged, your attention turning back to the counter where all the alcohol was. Eren chuckled and followed your gaze, he nudged you off the wall and the two of you crossed the room to get more booze. You poured out two shots of pineapple Bacardi Eren accepted the shot glass with the most alcohol with a smile. You clinked the glasses together before knocking them back. Eren hissed as he sat the glass down, you coughed and slammed the shot glass down next to Eren's a triumphant grin on your lips.

"That was some pussy shit huh? " Eren laughed as he licked his lips.

"Yeah." you agreed. The alcohol left your stomach feeling warm, and your tongue felt numb already. Eren pulled out two more screwdrivers for the two of you and once again grabbed your bicep to drag you down the hall. You were a bit confused but you trusted Eren so you allowed him to guide you through the house, it was clear that he knew his way around. He paused in front of a door to knock, when there was no response he pushed through the door. You realized that Eren had pulled you to a den, a couple of arm chairs and a love seat. The back wall had a huge window with an oak desk. The walls were lines with bookshelves and a large fireplace that radiated heat and light across the cozy room.

"Why'd you bring me back here?" you asked as Eren dropped down on the love seat.

"There's something you should know." Eren's eyes turned dark as he leaned forward to prop his elbows on his thighs.

"Okay I'm listening..." you sank down on one of the arm chairs opposite of Eren, your mind spinning due to the drinks.

"Jean's cheating on you." Eren stated rather bluntly. You blinked stupidly at him, Jean hadn't even asked you to be his girlfriend yet, and now Eren was accusing him of being a cheater? Nah this reeked.

"Ha ha very funny Eren." you rolled your eyes and stood up, not wanting to get into this.

"I'm serious. Connie told me that he saw Jean and Marco kissing in his car after Marco's shift at the cafe." Eren pressed, reaching out to grab your wrist.

"Marco?" you whispered, everyone knew that Marco was gay, but Jean? Not that it would be a bad thing if Jean was gay but the cheating thing....that was bad. But then again could you say anything after what you had done with Levi?

"Yeah, I'm sorry but I had to tell you before things got too messy." Eren apologized as he dropped your wrist once he realized you weren't going to run.

"I mean Jean hadn't even asked me out yet so is that really cheating?" You pondered as you dropped onto the sofa by Eren.

"I don't think that's any excuse for him to be fooling around with other people while seeing you." Eren shrugged, turning his eyes to the fire instead of your face. You followed his gaze a cloud of sadness was settling above your head as you thought back to every interaction you'd had with Jean. Where had you messed up? When did he decide that you weren't enough for him? You took a long chug from your screwdriver. Eren watched you with a blank expression, his green eyes filled with pity.

"What should I do Eren." you moaned, dropping your head into your hands as you slumped forward. Eren inhaled sharply as you tried to hold back your tears.

"Well if it was me...I would confront Jean." Eren answered earnestly. You nodded and blinked away your tears.

"But how? I honestly wouldn't had known if you hadn't told me." You fretted, sitting up to face Eren once more. Eren brought his hand up to cup his chin in thought.

"Just tell him what I told you." he shrugged, clearly not interested in how this confession would affect his relationship with Jean.

"But I wouldn't want to make Jean mad at you." you pointed out, Eren scoffed and rolled his eyes at that.

"As if I care about that. Jean and I always make up." Eren replied nonchalantly. You envied him, if only girls could be as simple.

"Agh this is all too complicated." you groaned and pulled your phone out. You couldn't stay here any longer or else you'd do something you would regret.

"What are you doing?" Eren asked as he tried to peek at your phone screen.

"Calling Hange to come pick me up." you mumbled as you scrolled through your contacts.

"Stay." Eren insisted, once again catching your wrist and demanding your attention. The firelight was casting a warm shadow over Eren's angular features. His teal eyes were shining with determination.

"I really shouldn't. I don't want to do something I would regret." you sighed as your eyes flickered over his features. He squeezed your wrist and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Just stay, you don't even have to see that horsefaced jerk." Eren shifted closer to you on the couch, his hand sliding from your wrist and into your own hand. Your mouth fell open in surprise, Eren usually wasn't so clingy, not even when he drank.

"Eren..." your tone was warning as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

"Don't leave me here all by myself (Y/n)." Eren chuckled as he licked his lips and lifted his gaze from your intertwined hands.

"Eren I-" you were cut off by the sound of your cell phone ringing. You both turned to see who it was. Eren frowned when he saw Levi's name and contact photo lighting up your screen. You answered the call and lifted the phone to your ear, grateful for the interruption.

"Hey, hope I didn't wake you." Levi greeted. You smiled at the sound of his velvety voice.

"No, not at all. I'm actually out right now." You admitted.

"Really? Where at?" Levi quizzed, you could hear the sounds of water being poured and glasses tinkling.

"Marco's." you quipped as you shot Eren an apologetic glance.

"Ah the freckled brat." Levi mused as he dunked his tea bag in the boiling water.

"Yeah that's Macro." you chuckled nervously.

"You been drinking?" Levi asked as he allowed his tea to steep.

"Uhh yeah." you admitted as you rubbed the side of your tingling face.

"Tch." Levi clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Sorry did you need something?" you asked, Levi scoffed once more, you heard him take a sip of his drink before responding.

"No, I was just....checking up on you." Levi grunted, the last part was spoken softly, so quiet you almost missed it.

"O-Oh well thank you...I'm fine." your voice came out a bit shaky, Levi frowned at your unsteady tone.

"You don't sound fine." Levi observed, clearly not in the mood for your bullshit.

"It's just a bit overwhelming here." You admitted, not really wanting to dump your issues on Levi. Eren still had a firm grip on your hand as you spoke on the phone.

"Then leave." Levi's blunt response made you smile.

"I'm trying." you chuckled humorlessly.

"Call me when you get home." Levi grunted, before you could say anything else he had ended the call. You huffed and pocketed your phone, shooting Eren an apologetic glance before slipping your hand from his grasp.

"Sorry Eren but I really should go home." you cringed at his disappointed expression, but you knew that you needed to be alone.

"Text me when you get home." was all the brunette said before he got up and left the room. You took your phone out and texted Hange.

"Can you drive?"

"Yeah why?"

"I need a ride."

"Where are you?"

You shared your location with Hange before you also left the room, you had about twenty minutes before she would arrive. So why not knock back another shot? You were relieved to find the kitchen empty because the party had moved into the living room. You leaned against the counter as you retrieved a fresh solo cup and a bottle of Captain Morgan rum the golden liquid sloshed into the cup quickly, you scowled at the large amount of liquor and decided it would go down easier with some coke. You dumped in the soda, filling the cup the rest of the way. You took a long chug before wandering towards the living room. The room was crowded and loud, drunk teens milling about engaged in drunken conversations that they wouldn't remember in the morning. You slid your shoes on undetected and slipped out the front door. You tapped your shoe on the front porch as you looked out at the snowy trees.

Marco's house was like yours, nestled in a grove of trees with a large lawn. However Marco's house was mostly surrounded with pine trees, which were drooping under the weight of all the snow. You sipped your drink as you looked out at the quiet scenery, you tensed when you heard the sound of someone trudging through the snow. Your breath caught in your throat when you recognized Annie padding through the snow. Her cold eyes were distant, she hadn't noticed you yet. Your eyes were drawn to a small blunt that she had balanced between her slender fingers. She lifted the blunt to her lips and took a short drag. You knew little about the blonde, what you did know was that she had moved to the states from Russia when you were in middle school and that she was good friends with Bertholdt and Reiner. You tilted your head as you watched her blow the smoke out of her nose. Odd, you smiled and took a sip from your cup in an attempt to muster enough courage to talk to Annie.

"Staring is rude." Her voice echoed off the trees and the side of the house, startling you.

"Sorry..." you say meekly as you brush some snow off the porch railing. Annie scoffed and kicked a the snow in front of her.

"What are you doing out here?" you asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

"What does it look like?" she quipped as she lifted the blunt back to her lips. You chuckled awkwardly and gripped your cup a bit tighter. Annie exhaled another cloud of smoke before dropping the butt of the blunt and stalking over to the porch. She paused when she reached the top step, her eyes roaming shamelessly over you.

"You look like shit." she commented before she stalked past you and disappeared into the house, leaving you confused. You didn't have long to analyze Annie's cryptic way of conversing before Hange pulled up the driveway. You grabbed your drink and carefully stepped down the stairs and shuffled over Marco's icy driveway. You pulled the door open and climbed inside.

"Hey sweetie what's wrong?" Hange asked, her brown eyes softer than usual.

"Hey Hange, sorry to bother you. I guess it's just not my night." you muttered as you fiddled with your scrunchy on your wrist. Hange frowned but turned her attention to backing out of the driveway, throwing her hand over the back of your seat as she turned to check behind her. You relaxed into the seat, your head spinning from the alcohol.

"Erwin will want to know." Hange broke the silence a few minutes into the drive.

".....Jean cheated on me." you admitted, knowing that she would only continue to pester you for answers.

"O....kay." Hange was clearly taken aback by your bluntness. She said nothing as you knocked back the rest of your rum and coke and crushed the plastic cup.

"It's fine, I was thinking about ending things anyway." you shrugged nonchalantly as you looked out at the snowy scenery.

"Still..." Hange mumbled as she turned onto your road.

"You should know, Kenny is over....for dinner with your mom." Hange informed you, carefully choosing her words.

"Great." you huffed as you brought your knuckle to your lips and took the skin between your teeth.

".....great?" Hange was thrown off by your standoffish attitude and your indifference to being cheated on and your mother having a man over for dinner.

"Yeah, I mean this night wouldn't be complete without one more thing turning to shit." you chuckled darkly as you leaned back into your seat.

"I think that you're drunk and you need to go to bed." Hange said sternly as she pulled into your driveway.

"Me too." you agreed, your head spinning. You barely registered Hange shutting off the car and rounding the car to help you out and up the stairs into your house. You leaned heavily into Hange as she guided you through the kitchen and up the stairs, not even bothering to take your shoes off. She dropped you onto your bed with a grunt, you felt her tug your shoes off and then your jeans.

" Woah, Hange you're dating Erwin." you state gripping her wrist as she tried to lift the hem of your shirt over your head.

"Yeah I am now let me put you to bed." she was becoming impatient as she tugged your shirt off the rest of the way.

"No I....I have to call Levi." you insisted, your hand reaching for Hange's in an attempt to keep yourself grounded.

"No that's not a good idea sweetie." Hange frowned as she took your hand and helped you under the covers.

"Yes it is. He told me to call him when I got home." you stated as you tried to sit up to find your phone.

"You can call him in the morning.... not that you'll remember much of this anyway." Hange muttered the last part as she watched you pat your sheets down.

"Please Hange." you pleaded as you pawed around your messy bed.

"No (Y/n) just go to bed." Hange scolded as she stood up, subtly slipping your phone into her pocket. You whimpered as you leaned back into your pillows.

"What if he stops talking to me? We just started being friends Hange I don't want him to leave me." you whined as you gave Hange puppy dog eyes. Hange frowned, not sure who exactly you were referring to.

"Just....go to sleep." Hange sighed as she stood and crossed the room, pausing at the door as she flicked the light off. You sniffled and rolled over with a sigh of defeat, Hange's shoulders sagged with relief when you stilled and your breathing became steady. As soon as she shut the door she felt your phone buzz, she pulled it from her pocket and unlocked it.

"Did you make it?"

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Levi's message. So you weren't lying about Levi wanting you to call him. How odd, Hange pursed her lips as she scrolled through your previous messages. Her eyes widened when she realized how many messages the two of you had shared over the past two weeks. What made Levi want to get so chummy with you all the sudden? She ducked into Erwin's room, Erwin rolled over in bed and sat up to see what all the ruckus was about.

"How is she?" Erwin yawned as he watched Hange pull the covers back and slip underneath them.

"Eh she's been better, but get this! Levi's been texting her, can you believe that?" Hange squawked as she held your phone up for Erwin to see.

"Huh that's weird." Erwin mused as he took the phone and scrolled through at his leisure.

"I know! I'm so proud of them, I knew that one day they would look past their differences!" Hange giggled as she took the phone back and plugged it in.

"Yeah that's a relief, hopefully they can be civil when he comes back." Erwin sighed as he rubbed a hand down his face as he reclined back into his pillows. Hange rolled over and pulled the covers up over her shoulders.

"Hopefully." Hange yawned, Erwin reached up and flicked off the lamp.

"Only time will tell." Erwin commented as he pulled Hange flush against him and nuzzled his nose into her shoulder.

______

Levi frowned at his phone, you still hadn't called or texted him. He hoped that you had made it safely back to your place, he would certainly scold you in the morning for failing to communicate with him. He sighed heavily and reached to pour himself a fresh cup of tea, the sun was casting soft morning rays across the kitchen. He dunked in a fresh tea bag, leaning heavily on the counter, although he had already spent a full two weeks in France, his body was still struggling to adjust to the time change. Not that he got much sleep when his body was in sync with the time zone anyway. He assumed that you had managed to get a decent amount of sleep since you had stopped responding to his texts and snaps around one am your time. He frowned, catching himself thinking about you for what felt like the millionth time within the past couple of weeks. He had fallen into a strange rut, thoughts of you running rampant in his mind. He found himself wondering what you were wearing, who you were with, what were you thinking about?

Did you think about him they way he thought of you? Probably not, why should you? He was puzzled on his sudden infatuation with his best friends younger sister. At first he figured it was textbook lust, but now he was doubting that. He had lusted after others before you, but none had held his attention for so long. He scoffed at the thought, of course he would become attached to the very person who had been a thorn in his side for the past six years. Someone who he'd had honestly, little to no interest in until he was supposed to leave the fucking country.

"Bit early to look so angsty don't you think?" Farlan hummed as he padded into the kitchen still in his pajamas. Levi simply clicked his tongue and took a long sip of his tea.

"I'm not angsty, it's called thinking, you should really try it some time." Levi jabbed as he watched Farlan shuffle around the kitchen as he went about making breakfast and brewing a pot of coffee. Farlan snorted at his response, pleased with Levi's snarky attitude.

"I was thinking that we could visit campus today? Maybe grab a beer." Farlan offered as he cracked an egg into a pan.

"Hm." Levi hummed as he stared into his dark beverage.

"You might like it, maybe enough to stay and study?" Farlan smirked as he turned to see his friend engrossed in his tea.

"Maybe." Levi agreed, images of him sitting in a lecture hall, of him up late flipping through a textbook, sitting in a cafe with an open laptop. It was a bit disturbing how easy it was to imagine a life away from his friends, away from you. He frowned, suddenly it didn't seem so glamorous, in fact it seemed lonely. But necessary, once he finished his degree he could come home, to you, to his friends. He had made a promise after all.

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sarcastically-defensive17 · 3 years

Text

Coffee - T. Holland

Okay, I know I have requests but this song came on at work the other day and I felt super emotional and I had to write. The use of Tom was very last minute because I had no actual person in mind for the fic, and there are very little actual defining characteristics so you can imagine it to be absolutely anybody you want!

This has broken me, so I apologize in case it has the same affect.

TW: This story contains mentions of cancer, allusions to death, mentions of death, sadness, angst, allusion to suicide, a character with cancer, and all round sadness about death.

If this content may trigger you in any way possible, please do not engage with this fic. Your personal safety and wellness is important so please take care of yourself, my lovies.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17. Please do not copy, translate or share outside of the boundaries of tumblr without my permission. Please do not steal my work and market it as your own. Basically, don’t be a dick. Also, the above gif does not belong to me. Credit to @thollandgifs

Also, sorry the format is shit. I write on my phone so it’s hella bad.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed.

While his life stood still, hers moved. Most days he could barely move without the nausea taking over. His head pounding, body exhausted and weak beyond recognition. She had established a routine the minute she could. She made sure he had his morning coffee everyday. Whenever his eyes opened, she would be right by his side with his favourite beverage, bringing him breakfast and a warm, loving smile to entice him to get out of bed. She understood on days that his body fought him more than it already was - she was compassionate and considerate. On those days she would help him prop himself in a comfortable position, switch on whatever show they were watching at the time and curl up next to him with her work beside her.

His heart was often overwhelmed with the care she provided him. They were well into the fourth year of their life together, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would love her until his last days. He often solemnly thought of the ring he still had hidden in his drawer of their shared cabinet. He had made a vow to pop the question if he ever recovered, but the thought of that day never coming simply tore another piece from his already dwindling soul.

He would often sit in his chair, or on the bed in their small, studio apartment, watching her flutter around the house in a graceful way only she could. He had memorized her every move when she conducted the most mundane activity. The way she poured a glass of water, the way she tapped her fingers against her thigh to the tune of a theme song, the way she always made his coffee to pure perfection - in a way that nobody else had been able to do.

He had so much love for her, that he was terrified of it slipping away at any moment.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep, I don't wanna pass away. I been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days.

He was 24, and she was 25. They had already planned a life together. They had steady jobs, an intense and passionate love, names picked out for future children, dinner at his parents house every Sunday, lunch with her parents every Wednesday.

He just knew that he had done something to deserve such a fate. At first he was angry, terrified of the possibility of his soul leaving this earth, but as time went on, his self-deprivation grew. Apparently it was common for people in his situation. The fear of dying was clouded by a justification that this was meant to be. He had done something terrible in a past life, and karma was giving him the painful ending he deserved... but he despised the thought, because Y/N didn’t deserve to watch her boyfriend meet his end in this way.

He had thought of near every scenario in his life in which he hurt somebody - cheating on his girlfriend in his first year of college, letting Y/N down time after time, only for her to forgive him. The hurt he caused his parents when he was a teenager and full of such hate for the world. But now, all he could do was pray for forgiveness. He had hope that there was some way he could make it out of this, but he was losing hope rapidly.

Even as he sat with his love on their bed, watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

“When I’m gone,” his voice was croaky, his throat dry and scratchy. “Please tell me you will find somebody else.” He fumbled around to grab her hand, winching as he caught her head snapping towards his in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t turn to see the expression on her face. “You’re so young, so full of life. Your life is going to be so beautiful.”

Her hand was pulled from his, and he steeled what was left of his nerves to get ready for whatever tongue lashing she had planned, but instead he felt the bed dip further beside him, her hands framing his sullen face on each side and softly turning his gaze to meet her own.

“Don’t you say things like that, Tom.” He forced his eyes to stare into her own. His eyes seemed as if they were always ready to release tears, and the intensity of the hurt in her own made his pool unconsciously. “There is no somebody else when the other half of my soul is already with me. I don’t need anybody else because you’re not going anywhere.”

Her thumb brushed away the tear that slipped from his chocolate orbs, ignoring the dark circles underneath that made his face seem further sunken than it was.

“You don’t know that,” he sniffed heavily, dropping his eyes down to his lap. His fingers unconsciously toyed with the bracelet she had given him years ago. A soft, black, faux-leather band. An unfit symbol charm dangled close to the strap, reminding him of her favourite line from her favourite book/movie - the perks of being a wallflower. He had gone wuth her when she got the titular floral piece tattooed on her forearm. She was so happy that day. “One day you’re gonna be in a nice house, a ring on your finger, watching your husband dote over your little baby and you will be at peace in the way I know you crave. I just... I know that will never be me, who slips a ring onto your hand, or waits for you at the end of the aisle. I won’t be the one who holds your hand when you meet your baby, or the one who can give you the life you deserve - the one you want.”

His eyes snapped up to meet her own when he heard her breath grow shaky, but the action caused his brain to lose its equilibrium and he had to close his eyes for a moment. He hated doing so. Every time his eyes were shut, it was a moment that he lost of memorizing every line, curve, angle of her body. He opened his eyes again when able, and he was met with her own eyes as red rimmed as his, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

“Don’t you every talk like that, Thomas Stanley. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to be the one to do all of those things because you’re going to make it and we are going to love each other until the end of our time, together. I’ll fucking Romeo and Juliet this shit if I have to,” her dark joke was met with a wet laugh from them both, before her face melted back into seriousness. “I’m never gonna need another person, Tommy. I have you, and I will have you forever.”

“You make every day a blessing, my love.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over hers as he gathered the strength in his lead arms to pull her into a hug. “You make hell feel like a summers day, and I cherish every moment I have left with you.”

My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Their days continued on for another three weeks, the same routine of morning coffee and testing the boundaries of his own fatigue. Three weeks without the dreaded conversation arising again, until she woke to find him staring into the ceiling with such an intense and thoughtful gaze. She knew instantly what was on his mind, and she could feel her heart breaking into more little pieces.

“Tommy?” Her melodic tone was soft, snapping him from his nightmarish reprieve. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing honey. Thinking about us... when we were young and full of life,” he snorted into the dark room, Y/N’s soft laugh pushed through her nose and he felt her smile against his neck. “Just, thinking about how sorry I am for all of this. I’m sorry that I’ve turned your life upside down, that we have changed so much.”

He felt weaker. His body was fighting to hold on, and he felt that they both knew that. He was being eaten up from the inside out, but he couldn’t bear to leave. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t leave her alone. He needed her, he loved her. He wanted to be her husband and give her everything she wanted in life. He wanted to live, for her.

“I would change everything if it meant I could be here with you,” her voice was heavy, riddled with sleep. Neither of them get much rest anymore. He is always up and down, and she frets too much to sleep through his late night jolts and retches. “You’re worth every minute of every day, Tom. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not like you chose to have Can-“

“Don’t say it, baby, please?” He pled, silencing her before she could say the word. He hadn’t once uttered it since the day he found out. She had relayed the information to their families, holding his hand the entire time as he sat motionless. “Makes it more real than my emo ramblings.” His laugh was humorless, but he didn’t intend it to be so.

She apologised softly, snuggling closer to him. She knew how much he loved the feel of her body on his, how the intimacy of the comfort made him feel warm. Back when he could handle the weight, she would sometimes wake up curled on top of his chest because he had sought her out in his sleep.

“I would do anything for you, Tommy. I would give up everything I have just to see you smile. You’re the other half of my soul, my infinity.”

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. Her words always had that affect on him, but he loved the way she could send his heart beating with no effort. He loved her. So intensely.

“Sing to me, please?” A request he had let loose so many times before. He adored her voice, and the soft melodies that fell from her lips and lulled him to sleep.

She obliged with a smile on her face, and let the words tumble into his pale skin.

“If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do...”

Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

Two more months passed. His doctors were satisfied, stating that he was slowly improving. His body was beginning to regain strength. He had begun to grow more hopeful, slowly but surely.

Until there was no chance for hope left.

Y/N made his morning coffee, but when she went to rest it on his bedside, he could barely breathe.

Her fingers dialed emergency services faster than she thought possible, her voice cracking as she sung to him over and over, hands cradling his head in her lap as he whispered his love for her.

The coffee went cold as the red and blue lights approached.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed

Tag list: @starshonerose @snookiebrookie @another-lonely-heart @mantlereid

If you would like to be added to my tag list, comment here!

#tom holland angst #tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #caz writes #deathbed #(coffee for your head)#I’m so sorry #I’m so emotional #this hits home so I had to write it #angst #marvel

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solohux · 3 years

Note

Hi darling! I adore your omega Kylo content so much, and I know you've written about him a lot but I'd love to see something like hes getting very clingy and needy during the early stages of his pregnancy, not that he knows hes pregnant yet. Hux freaks out a little bit because this relationship between them is supposed to be causal, just a stress reliever (even if Hux thinks Kylo is the most beautiful omega hes ever laid eyes on). Kylo doesn't know why hes suddenly craving being with and around Hux more often but he is, he wants the alpha all to himself. Maybe it comes to a head when Kylo sees an omega officer talking with Hux and gets insanely jealous, going over to yell and start a fight and Hux has to pull him away to calm him down? Only for Kylo to jump on him the moment they're alone before Hux can even ask what the hell that was about. I don't know if that's enough for you to go on, I've never been brave enough to send a prompt before 😅 Thank you so much for your writing, it honestly brightens my day when you post something new 😊

“Uh, Ren?”

“Mmm.”

“Wake up. I need to go to the bridge.”

Kylo pouts, rolling his tongue over his dry lips whilst still in the remnants of a beautiful dream, “Okay.”

The bedchambers descend into glorious silence again so Kylo can doze, snuggling against the warm pillow that he has clutched tightly in his arms. He’s so content that he feels like he’s floating.

“Ren? No, no, don’t fall back asleep. Wake up.”

“Hm?”

The omega does as he’s told and allows himself to emerge gently from his dream about being held in Hux’s arms whilst the pair look down into a pristine white crib where a newborn pup sleeps, blinking away those sweet images to find the real alpha General staring at him with an unamused expression.

“I’m needed on the bridge,” Hux says, shifting beneath the sheets so that Kylo’s pillow moves in his arms. “So I’m going to need you to let go of me, Ren.”

Kylo frowns but when his pillow does a little bit more moving around, he realises that he’s actually clinging on so tightly to Hux—his arms like a vice around his middle—that there’s no way that the alpha can wriggle free on his own. Smiling, Kylo sets his bedmate free and stretches as he watches the fretting alpha get dressed in record time, throwing on his neatly-ironed uniform and smoothing his hair down with greasy product before popping a few mints into his mouth.

“An emergency?” Kylo asks, quickly rolling onto Hux’s side of the bed to claim his pillow, burying his nose in it and drowning in the alpha’s scent.

“No, but we’re expecting problems now that we’re in Hutt-claimed space and they need me up there,” Hux says, sitting on the bed to pull on his boots. “There’s caf in the kitchenette if you want some.”

Kylo turns his nose up, “No, thanks. The smell makes me feel ill.”

“Very well. I’ll see you later.”

Hux stands up to leave, adorning his greatcoat in one swift movement and heading towards the door. Kylo can’t help the quiet mewling sound that leaves his mouth.

“Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

The alpha stops dead in his tracks and turns, carrying on fixing his gloves in the elegant yet powerful manner that always makes Kylo’s stomach flutter. As he stares at Hux, part of him can’t believe that he’s just asked the most commanding alpha on the ship for a kiss goodbye, right after making a little keening sound that came from deep in his omega heart.

But instead of Hux scoffing at him like Kylo expects, he smiles devilishly, glancing down to the ground and leaning back over the bed. His gloved hand cups Kylo’s cheek, stroking over his skin with such gentleness that Kylo doesn’t ever want Hux to leave him.

“How can I say no to these lips?” Hux says softly before kissing the omega deeply, longingly. Kylo doesn’t know why this suddenly feels like heaven but it does, as though nothing outside of them exists—or if it does, it’s their world.

Hux breaks away first, though his hand lingers, “You know, you’re best fuck an alpha could ask for.”

Kylo’s heart sinks as Hux walks away and leaves, his greatcoat flapping out behind him like a grand cape. The omega sighs, shrinking back underneath the covers as he feels his mood drop like a cement brick in Kamino’s ocean.

Their arrangement has been labelled as stress relief ever since they fell into bed with each other almost six months ago but recently, Kylo has felt strangely drawn to Hux in a manner that he can’t explain, hating the fact that the alpha has left the safety of their bed—Hux’s bed, Kylo supposes but he spends so much time in it now that it’s become shared—and there are others now who’ll get his attention on the bridge instead of just Kylo.

That thought makes Kylo kick off the covers and grab his clothes, swallowing down a wave of nausea that seems to hit him every morning now but he hasn’t time to think about anything else but the burning jealousy in his gut, the unshakeable need to be in Hux’s arms right now or else. He doesn’t even brush his sleep-tousled hair or adorn his mask before storming through the Finalizer’s corridors, his potent scent and domineering presence sending officers scrambling out of his way.

Not ten minutes after Hux left his chambers for the bridge, Kylo joins him, stepping onto the bridge with high hopes of finding his alpha again and fulfilling his desperate craving.

But Kylo’s heart sinks down into his gut when he finds Hux standing at the helm of the bridge in deep conversation with another officer, another omega.

“No,” Kylo whispers, unconsciously putting a hand on his belly. Hux is his. The alpha has just left Kylo with a goodbye kiss that felt like paradise but now he’s catching gazes of other omegas—pretty little omegas with light brown hair and a lithe body that fits better to the dainty omega stereotype that Kylo has spent his life fighting against.

When the petite omega laughs at Hux’s quip and sets a hand on his arm, Kylo sees red.

He thrusts his hand out and calls the Force to his aid, wrapping tendrils of hate around the officer’s neck, stopping his pathetic, flirtatious giggling and making him choke on it instead. He growls, gritting his teeth and slowly curling his fingers into a fist whilst relishing in being the only one to have Hux’s gaze now, albeit for the wrong reasons.

“I’m his,” Kylo is growling in a low tone, his stomach twisting into knots. “His omega. He’s mine.”

“Ren! Ren, stop!”

Kylo blinks, breathing hard. He freezes when he feels a familiar hand close around his wrist, making him relax his Force-attack on the rival omega and making his fingers go slack. And despite the miniscule height difference between them, the omega feels like a pup beneath Hux’s frustrated gaze.

“Hux…” Kylo exhales, free of his rage but still full of jealousy. “I…”

“With me, now.”

Still holding onto Kylo’s wrist, Hux guides Kylo away from the bridge whilst friends of the fallen officer tend to him and help him to his feet; Kylo resists the urge to pull his tongue at the petite omega in victory.

Kylo allows himself to be led down corridors until they’re in an empty one, alone now instead of being surrounded by spying, demanding members of Hux’s bridge crew.

“I thought we were past strangling my officers,” Hux says, raising an eyebrow. “What happened—”

Kylo doesn’t hesitate in throwing himself into Hux’s arms, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s neck and sighing as soon as their chests are together.

“Don’t leave me,” Kylo says, hating how needy he sounds but accepts it now that he realises how much of his pain are withdrawal symptoms from Hux. “I can’t stand to be apart from you. I don’t want us to be casual anymore. I want to be yours. Just yours.”

“Ren,” Hux replies softly, and Kylo sighs in contentment when the hug is reciprocated. Hux’s arms are better than the warmth of any nest, safer than anywhere else in the galaxy. They pull apart a little to press their foreheads against each other. “You’re the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen. I’ve been waiting for the day where I can ask you to become my mate. I…thought you just wanted my knot.”

“No, no, I want all of you.”

Hux chuckles, smiling, “I should have guessed that you’re not the sharing type.”

“Not when it comes to you,” Kylo says, going in for a kiss but finds that the alpha is already going for his neck, to press open mouthed kisses against his pale throat—something that is forbidden between causal partners.

But the kisses don’t last long.

“Ren,” Hux gasps, pulling away in shock. Kylo feels his stomach sink, afraid. “Your scent…”

“What?”

“I…” Hux is turning red, his eyes filled with excitement. “I think you’re pregnant.”

Kylo faints.

#kylux #mpreg #omega kylo #alpha hux #1.4k!!!!!!!#honestly #anyway! thank you for sending me a prompt darling! i hope you send me more in the future because i loved writing this one <3

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won't Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

(This is gonna be a series, so keep an eye out for this one if you like it.)

Summary: So imagine you're in the CM universe if you will. And you're just graduating from the academy. You're looking to join the BAU. You have hyperthymesia, the ability to never forget anything. Except for rare occasions. After the final exam, you run into one Dr. Spencer Reid. Eventually, you get accepted to shadow the BAU on a trial run as an agent. But you have a past that may endanger those you work with. Also, you love Spencer. Cause who doesn't?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader (this makes sense only for storyline, sorry 😞)

Masterlist

Please leave comments! I love reading them ❤ 💕

~~~~~~~~

Nervous. So dreadfully nervous you were and am. But here we are. No turning back now.

"Hello, cadets. And welcome to your final exam for your graduation. We hope all of you do well. The FBI, as you know, has many branches. 56, to be exact. We hope that for those of you who pass, that you'll find your calling in one of our offices. For those of you who don't, don't fret. We always allow you to retake the last semester and the exams. The FBI is in desperate need of new agents." The speaker in front of me is seriously loud. Though you don't dare speak up about it.

Associate Deputy Director Gail Franklin spoke with such elegance. She obviously has had practice, you think to yourself as you watch the grey-haired woman speak atop the raised portion of the testing room. You couldn't count how many people even if you tried. And you don't forget anything.

"Psst!"

You groan quietly and try to ignore your idiot but golden-hearted friend who couldn't sit still.

"Psst! (Y/N)!"

You ignore him again, focusing on Franklin's closing commentary.

"I wish you all good luck. Please refrain from beginning your exam until all test-takers have received their tests. Thank you." She then proceeded to turn and begin her trek out of the room, the click of her heels being the only reminder she was even here.

"Psst-! Come on, (Y/N/N)!"

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. Finally, you turn your head and give your dear friend a very annoyed look. "What is it, Gabe? Like seriously, you couldn't sit still through one teansy tiny lecture? From the ADD herself?" You tease, pulling out a #2 pencil from your bag. Sure, most everyone will be using pens, but you remembered that the test scanners prefered graphite.

Gabriel whined teasingly at your jap. "No fair, (Y/N/N)! I just wanted to talk to one of my best friends. That too much to ask?" He sassily remarks, flipping his floppy golden-brown hair.

You rolled your eyes and couldn't help but feel a smile form on your face. You loved him like a brother. But that also meant he annoyed you like one too.

"You couldn't have waited till she was done?" You couldn't help but question him further. It was one of his weaker points. Under pressure, he tended to get uncomfortable.

"Nope." Popping the 'p' he blew a kiss at you. "Anyway, how prepared do you think you are for this test? I almost made it an all-nighter trying to cram everything in again. Fuck me and my terrible memory." You grinned and giggled under your hand.

"Gabriel, I told you, if you ever needed help studying I would be there. You're gonna do fine."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say. You didn't even have to study with that god-given gift of a memory you got."

You bite the inside of your cheek, faking a slight chuckle. Everyone thought remembering everything was a superpower. Sure, if you call superpowered headaches and occasional dizzy spells a super-side-effect.

So, yes, you had the 'gift' of having hyperthymesia. The disorder where you never forgot anything. Of course, there were a few rare occasions, like you could only remember a handful of memories from before you were four. But other than that, you had nothing from your earliest childhood. It made you feel semi-normal.

"It isn't a gift, Gabe. It's only a gift in the academic field. And I'm lucky to have a 'genius' IQ." You huffed in response to Gabriel's little comment.

"Yeah yeah, but you have a filing cabinet for a memory. So why study? You have it all up there." He asks, taking the test packet from the assistant that had finally made it to him.

"Studying, as a science, is a great way to improve your memory, quicken your speed of processing data and important information, and you stretch your mind's capacity for learning. Also it helps me understand a topic better. Just like anyone else."

You take the packet from the assistant and widen your eyes slightly at the size. It was massive. At least the size of your tiniest textbook. You could almost hear Gabriel whimper next to you as he saw how big the packet was. At least you all had three and a half hours. And it wasn't required to get through all of them. Just try to do your best on the written response ones.

You turn to Gabriel and hold out your fist. "Good luck."

Gabriel sighed and gave you a smile before pumping his fist gently against yours. Soon after he made a dramatic explosion noise that only you could hear. You roll your eyes and shake your head again, turning your full attention finally to the large test in front of you.

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself.

○●♡●○

Remarkably, you think you did okay. Of course, you finished the test in the first hour and a half, but who's counting? Certainly not you.

You rub your aching wrists from so much essay work as you exit the testing room. Even with an unbeatable memory like yours, your hands were still human. So they hurt like a bitch.

You sigh and take a quick seat on the bench outside the room, probably sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of other cadets who weren't in your graduating class. But you tried not to pay it any mind. You were used to being the 'odd man out'.

You check your phone and smile down at the message your other friend, Iris, had sent you. She wasn't testing for the FBI like you and Gabe. No she was a barista with some mean skills at mixing new drinks. She wanted to open her own cafe and Gabriel and you wanted to support her. She'd been there for you every second of the last five years. You owed her at least a little thanks.

When you look up, you couldn't help but notice a tall, lanky looking man with long, curly hair walking towards you as he looked for…something. You couldn't tell. Probably a map. He had a gun holstered on the side of his belt along with a blurry ID you couldn't read from so far away. But it looked like it said FBI.

You stifled a soft snicker. This guy could say he was a teacher's assistant and if he didn't have the gun on him, you would've believed him.

And that's when you caught his eye and instantly you recognized who this lost puppy was. More specifically, who he belonged to.

"Hi, uh I'm Dr. Spe-" he began, looking a bit nervous as he began to introduce himself.

"Dr. Spencer Reid. From the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I've heard of you." You accidentally interrupt. "Sorry. I don't forget names easily. I don't forget them ever, really."

Nervously, you rub your hand on your neck, waiting for his response. And surprisingly, it wasn't one you expected.

Spencer widened his eyes a bit in wonder that someone knew of him that he hadn't met before on a case. And she knew which branch he worked in. He blushed a bit, growing a tad tongue tied.

"S-sorry, I'm Cadet (L/N)."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. He wondered why you didn't give him your first name. But he didn't pry. It was your personal business. And besides, it wasn't like he needed to know your first name.

"U-uh yeah, actually. I-I wanted to ask you if you knew where I could get a glimpse of a map. Just so I can find my way around. I'm here for a 'lecture' that I'm helping give the graduating class of FBI agents." He couldn't help but brag a tiny bit. "It doesn't start for another 3 hours, but I like to be prepared."

You smiled up at this tall nerd. And an incredibly cute one at that. He was so out of place you sympathized with him. He was basically you. In like, every academic scene you've ever been in.

"Understandable. I'll be seeing you there hopefully. I'm a part of that class." You grinned. "But yeah, here's the map," you say, pulling up a digital map on your phone. Spencer leaned over your shoulder and looked it over. You couldn't help but shiver slightly at the sound of his breathing so close to your ear. It felt eerily calming.

"Really?" He asked after he pulled away from your shoulder. "T-thank you for the map, by the way." He adds last-minute. You giggle gently and nod.

"Yep. The test only started an hour and about 45 minutes ago, so I gotta wait a little while." Groaning playfully you shrug at him, crossing your arms to get more comfortable. You wouldn't lie, he was seriously cute. Of course, you'd seen him before on your secret internet dives. But in-person was so much better than sitting behind a screen gawking over a photo. An ID photo no less.

"You already finished?"

There it was. The immediate doubt of your intelligence everyone had when you accidentally showed your smarts. You sighed. "Yeah. Kinda hard not to with an IQ of 167 and a memory that pretty much never fails." You shrugged nervously, looking away as you braced yourself for his incoming doubt.

"Oh. Hyperthymesia, right?" He inquires. You blink a few times and look at him like he just said something so foreign you didn't know how to respond.

"U-uh...y-yeah. It's rare, but I got it. How'd you know?"

"It was more of an educated guess. See, you bite the inside of your cheek when you're nervous," he points out. You in fact, were biting your cheek as he spoke. "And you seem unintimidated by me despite knowing of my position. You only grew nervous when I mentioned anything academic. Which proves to me you're used to being the smartest kid in the room. And having to explain why every time." He finishes, leaving you a gigantic puddle of impressed and embarrassed that he had profiled all of that from only a few minutes from conversation.

"Geez, didn't expect to get profiled today. You're really good at it, you know. Well, I mean you would be. 'Cause you w-work for the BAU." You begin to ramble, groaning internally for suddenly turning into an awkward blob in front of this professional.

Spencer smiled a bit wider and let out a soft laugh. "So, y-you want to work for the BAU?"

You look at him puzzled for a moment before you remember that he'd been profiling you for the past five or so minutes. "Right, profiler…" you mutter. "Y-yeah. It's kinda been a dream of mine for years. Police officer never really appealed to me. I wanted to get into the real deal. Catch the hard criminals. Give myself a challenge, you know?" You rattle off, realizing just how comfortable you'd grown to Spencer in the short conversation you've had.

Spencer nodded. "It was always a dream of mine as well. I was kinda groomed for it." He admitted. "S-so… any jitters at all? Did you know that t-the common feeling of nervousness or 'butterflies' is actually caused by the reduced blood flow to the abdomen. Your stomach's sensory nerves sense the lack of oxygen and blood and it produces the fluttery feeling you get before a test or before a big performance."

You smile brighter. "Really? I never thought of that. I always just thought it was a signal your brain sent or something. That's interesting. I'm kinda glad I won't forget that."

Spencer felt his surprise increase again. You hadn't cut him off. There was no 'Sorry I asked' or awkward asking if he always did this. You actually listened. And you wanted to hear more! He didn't think he'd ever find someone willing to listen.

"H-heh…" Spencer chuckled. "W-well did you know that most people will forget 50 percent of the information you've been taught in one hour will be forgotten? A-and in 24 hours more than 75% of the information is gone. That's why studying is so important. It helps retain that information so it doesn't 'slip' as easily." He begins to rattle off again, quite glad he found someone who actually wanted to hear his statistics. It was a good cover for his nervousness about talking to this incredibly gorgeous woman.

You tilt your head in interest, laughing gently. "That's what I keep saying! Yet everyone always asks 'Why study if you remember everything?'" You exclaim, making a whiny voice expression for the impression of absolutely every bully you'd had ever.

A darker skinned man, who was much more gifted physically walked over as you and Spencer continued your conversation. He wrapped an arm around Spencer teasingly and nodded to you.

"Hope this pretty boy ain't bothering you baby girl." He greets. "He's great once you get to know him."

Spencer just looks annoyed at this man's sudden presence. "Seriously, Morgan? We were actually having a conversation before you butted in." He grumbled annoyedly. Then you remember the face. This was SSA Derek Morgan. You'd seen him in some pictures with Spencer. He wasn't too bad looking. In fact, you knew Iris would climb him faster than a squirrel did a tree. But Spencer was a bit more your type.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. "Oh really? So now pretty boy's talking to girls?" He teases, letting Spencer free from his suffocating hold. He then extends a hand out to me. "Derek-" he started.

"Derek Morgan. SSA from the BAU. Yeah, I know about you." You grinned. He looked you up and down a bit in the same interest that Spencer had. That soon was replaced by a confident smile.

"So you know of me." He said in a clearly flirtatious tone. "Don't tell me you've been searching up my pictures in your freetime, babygirl." He flirts.

You roll your eyes and take his hand, shaking it firmly. "No, I haven't. Though I have heard of you from my classes. But if I'm honest?" You begin. "I'm really wishing I could forget that comment." You sassily respond. He laughed.

"No one ever forgets, Babygirl." He grinned.

Spencer sighed and turned to Morgan in annoyance. "Morgan." He deadpanned. You looked towards him and giggled a little. It was clear Spencer had wanted to talk to only you. Maybe it was something to do with the statistics. You had a feeling that he felt he was finally being listened to.

"What? I'm just introducing myself to one of the new cadets." He insists, raising two hands up in defeat.

"Did you just profile me without my permission?" You ask him with fake offense. He laughed.

"Did I need to ask, sweetheart?" He asks. You chuckle.

"Guess not." You shrug.

"What's your name, beautiful? A pretty face has got to have a pretty name." He flirted.

"I'm Cadet (L/N)."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, fully ready to ask why the hold-up on your first name when Spencer thankfully saved you an explanation.

"She didn't share it with me either. Probably a mode of trust." He explains. Morgan shrugged.

"I'll find out eventually. You'll give it away." He insists.

"Uh huh, sure I will." You tease.

"Reid, Morgan, we need to prepare." You hear a third voice call the two men away from you. You stand a bit on your tiptoes to get a good look at who it was that was speaking.

Aaron Hotchner walked towards the three of you almost with a purpose. So much confidence in one man.

"Who is this?" He asked.

"I'm Cadet (L/N), Agent Hotchner. It's a pleasure to meet you." You greet, holding out a hand to him. Hotch raised an eyebrow at you in interest before shaking your hand in earnest.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I've heard of your excellent grades and work in your studies. I hope to see you among the enlistees requesting the BAU." He greets, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"That's the plan, Agent Hotchner." You chip pleasantly. Morgan seems genuinely surprised.

"Wait, you're interested in the BAU? Profile me." He insisted. You blush from the sudden spotlight.

"W-what?" You ask.

"Morgan, that's enough." Hotch warns.

"Leave her alone, Morgan." Spencer expressed.

"No, it's fine." You assure. "Well, from the looks of your attire compared to your colleagues, I'd say you hate wearing formal clothing. Prefer to be comfortable. Your consistent flirty personality is mostly a show, as you wouldn't really flirt with someone you just met the way you flirted with me. So you either have someone in mind, or have a partner at home. And besides that, the way you greeted Dr. Reid proves you think of him as a younger brother, and you treat him like the brother you never had." You finished, a pleading voice in the back of your head screaming at you in hopes that you hadn't gone too far.

Instead of being offended, Morgan began to smile and grinned, clearly impressed. "She's actually pretty good." He comments to Hotch, glancing to Spencer and then back to you. "You'd make a good profiler." He compliments. You smile happily and full of relief at him.

"I sure hope so. Anyway, you should probably get going to the auditorium. The mics are a pain to tune and figure out, so I'd get it done now." You giggle slightly.

Spencer nodded and smiled at you. "T-thank you, again. Cadet (L/N)."

You couldn't help but blush a tad as he said your title. "Of course, Dr. Reid. Anytime you need directions." You tease.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What about me?" He teased back. You mock think about it for a moment before you reply.

"Sorry, I think you can figure it out, pretty boy." You joke, winking at him. He smiled brightly at your sass, chuckling a bit.

Hotch then got your attention very easily. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, (L/N)."

"You too. Good luck on the lecture." You bid them all fair well and turn around to take your seat again.

"Ooh, somebody's in looove~!" You hear Gabriel sing in a sing-song voice. You chuckle and shake your head.

"I am not in love, Gabriel. You just started eying the pretty boy I was talking to. You know, handsome black guy?" You tease.

"Hmm, yeah, probably. But seriously. I saw you looking at that other kid, the professor's-aide-looking guy, like he was a mountain of sugar. And I know sugar." He teased, sipping a coke he had obviously bought after the test.

"Oh shut up. Have you heard from Iris yet?" You ask.

"Nope. She's probably busy over at The Bean. We should go visit. Tell her about your rendezvous with Mr. Teacher's aid." Gabriel snickered.

"No, we are not telling Iris anything. You know how she gets. She gets all protective, and then nobody wants to go out with me cause they're all scared of her." You groan, stealing his coke for a moment.

Gabriel smirks at you. "So you admit that you like him?" He teases. You immediately realize your mistake and groan, covering your reddening face.

Gabriel chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, sugar-tits. Let's get out of here for a lil' bit. Come back for that 'lecture' in like an hour." He teased. You bring your hands away from your face and sigh.

Did you really like him? Maybe. It was probably just an internet crush. Nothing more. It wasn't like it could get worse.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds family #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds

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themusicplayedherlife · 3 years

Text

to love is the greatest gift

3. The Child

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarin x reader | past!obi wan kenobi x satine kryze) characters: f!reader, din djarin, baby djarin obi wan kenobi, anakin skywalker-amidala others word count: 6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, death, longing, slow burn, guilt summary: au! It has never been the right timing for you and obi wan, but maybe this time will be different. a/n: so, this was planned and partly written before we knew grogu’s name, and there’s actually a reason why baby’s name is baby, but probably won’t come up lol — now we’re just upping the ante and I’m not sorry lol if you have any questions about this story or requests, send them my way and I will try my best to answer ☺️

Then.

The loud noises of the bar were swallowed alive by the cars that rushed by and the occasional helicopter that flew overhead—faint music thumping from all directions; neon lights so bright like artificial stars, fading headlights moving in all directions.

Pretty. Picturesque, but not what you focused on for too long.

You moved fast, hand pulsing with pricks of pain and refusing to listen to Obi Wan, who followed closely behind, pleading for you to stop and—will you listen to me? Your determination to get away from him, the bar, and find his stupid piece of junk car in the packed parking lot drove you forward. He already dragged you out, might as well leave altogether—if only Anakin and Padmé would hurry!

“What were you thinking?” he asked after you, voice thick with worry and indignation as he kept up with your quick pace.

“He was being an asshole!”

“So you decided to punch him?” He heaved a sigh, grabbing your wrist and keeping you from continuing (or from running away from his impending lecture). “A man twice your size?”

You jerked away from his hold, refusing to meet his gaze and find disappointed blue eyes staring back at you. “You didn’t hear what he was saying—”

“Oh, I heard perfectly, my dear, but I wasn’t about to engage with some drunkard.” He said it so dismissively and judgmentally that you recoiled, the anger you managed to release earlier coming back tenfold, but this time for a different reason.

Why did he always have to be so non confrontational, so unlike Anakin and his hit-first-think-later personality? Why couldn’t he allow himself to get angry even for only a moment? Why did everyone else have to get angry for him? More importantly, why did you have to get angry for him? You don’t understand!

“How are you not mad then?” you outcried, throwing your hands up in the air. “He called you—”

“Why would I be?” He smiled, like he knew something you didn’t, and it only made you more frustrated. “I have you to defend my honor.”

“That's—Obi Wan! Seriously?” Maker, he was too much! “Take this seriously, will you?”

He chuckled and reached for your hand, the same one that had glocked the giant’s jaw. It hurt, a lot, much more than you were willing to admit, but in Obi Wan’s hands, the pain felt nonexistent.

“I didn’t expect you to hit him.” You wished he looked at you, showed you what he was thinking. He squeezed your hand in his, inspecting it gently. “Could’ve gotten hurt.” He sighed again. “I wanted to—needed you safe.”

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with saying those things about you,” you murmured, the cold air harsh in your throat, hard to swallow, but his hand was warm—he was warm.

“I know.” He ran his thumb over the area, careful to not cause you more discomfort—always so careful and sweet with you. But there was something swimming in those eyes of his, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place as they followed the movements of his thumb.

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you murmured.

“You could never.” He lifted your hand higher and you allowed him to—let his warm breath fan over your stinging skin. “My little warrior.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate, and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

“I am envious of the person you will choose to spend the rest of your life with,” he said, hesitant—barely breaking through the blood rushing in your ear—wanting to say more than what he was allowing himself to; hand dared to push back a stray piece of hair that couldn’t stay in place, choosing to dance with the wind. “Your future family will be lucky to have you.”

Now.

Din’s love can be powerful and kind. But he is also a man with too many layers and shields up to protect himself from the onslaught of cruelty life can gift to one human being.

Someone once told you (joked really) that loving him was like the age old question of how many licks did it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop. It was a stupid analogy then and it’s still a stupid analogy now, but it didn’t make it any less fitting.

Anakin never understood your relationship with Din, seeing only the surface level of the man you were once in love with. Padmé saw beyond the gruff and tough exterior, but she grew worried that you’d expend too much of your love and energy to get to where he could finally return it with equalness.

And she was right.

Sometimes, it was too much, and the selfish part of you wanted to walk away many times; wanted to give up the patience that you had thought you’d nurtured and grown over the years. But you’d fought against that selfish part of you, stood strong and tall as you worked through all of his layers of armor. Loved him and his toddler that you saw as your own (because he was, he was much more yours than the mother that left him on Din’s doorstep a couple of years ago).

It was Din who gave in first, the struggle of having someone wanting to be part of his life, wanting to give their all to him was so foreign to the poor man that sometimes he didn’t know what to do other than fight against it—against your love.

Even if he was the one to end it, there was no denying he had loved you, loved you in ways that were intimate, kind, and sweet. He made you feel things that no one else had, made your mind and body sing in ways that you sometimes search for in other partners.

Although the love you share now is different, like friends that have seen each other grow and blossom into who they are today, you don’t regret the time you spent learning and loving each other. He’s the first real, adult relationship you have ever had (and in a way you’re his first too), after all. You don’t regret any of it.

You don’t think he does, either.

“Are you sure you can watch Baby?” His fretting is still as cute as ever, worried that he’s asking too much of you. He knows Baby is yours as much as he is his, but his insecurities always get the best of him.

“Yes, yes!” You wave him away, too busy focusing on your little one with his chubby hands grabbing at your necklace. Maker, how you adore him. “I don’t have any meetings today”—thankfully—“I only have to go over the checklist for the Winter Charity Gala.” You finally spare him a glance as he hovers by the door. “Besides, people love babies, and if they don’t we could just switch guides or kick them out—either or, isn’t that right, my little womp rat?”

Baby giggles, slapping your chest gently in excitement, his little legs squeezing your middle as you balance him with one hand holding him and the other holding his leg. “Yes!”

He sighs heavily, muttering your name like he used to when you “sacrificed” nights to help him when Baby was teething and wouldn’t let him sleep.

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Stop it, Din. It’s fine. My work is flexible and besides, I've been wanting to spend more time with Baby during the week, anyway.”

His expression falls and his eyes fill with remorse, and stars are you a horrible person. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad!

“Din, I didn’t mean it like that.” You would never blame him for spending time with his son. The fact that he even lets you take him on weekends or even spend days with him during the week is such a huge thing. You’re not Baby’s mom, but Din lets you be his mom. “I just meant I love spending time with Baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks.

“Don't be! You do more than enough,” you assure him, berating yourself for even making him think you don’t appreciate what he does for you. “You don’t need to let me spend time with Baby, but you do. You make sure I do.”

“Of course, I could do no less,” he says, soft and warm, like the blankie you and Din bought Baby when he turned one. “You are Baby’s buir. Blood or no blood.” He closes the distance between you and wraps his arm around you and Baby, pressing his forehead against yours. “We are family.”

You look up at him with glassy eyes, and he smiles down at you, kind and tenderly. His own eyes glassy and the area around his eyes red. “Family,” you repeat, heart bursting in your throat.

“Family!” Baby exclaims, making you and Din burst into wet laughter.

“That’s right, ad’ika,” Din says, rubbing Baby’s back. “Who am I?”

“Papa!”

“And who am I?”

“Mama!” It never gets old hearing him call you that.

“Our Baby is so smart,” you coo, kissing his chubby cheeks loudly, making him giggle and lean into you for more kisses that you’re willing to give. “So, so smart!”

There’s a knock on the door and Din moves just slightly to where you could see the door as you ask who it is.

“It’s, uh, Obi Wan.” Your breath hitches, the hold you have on Baby tightening slightly—I’ve missed you, my dear. I will see you soon; warmth on a cold night, hands brushing hair away from eyes and tears away—shit.

“Who?”

Glancing at Din, you realize you haven’t told him about Obi Wan’s sudden return… visit… whatever this is, not two nights ago when you showed up at his apartment and asked if you could spend the night or yesterday morning when you woke up with puffy eyes and made them a breakfast too large for a family of three.

His eyebrows furrow in question, trying to figure out who Obi Wan is on his own. He practically knows everyone you work with or are friends with except for Obi Wan, whose picture he has definitely seen and name he has definitely heard offhandedly from Anakin and the others but can’t quite place.

“Come in, Obi.” It’s a slip of the tongue, an affectionate nickname that you can’t quite stop yourself from saying even in the presence of an ex-lover.

“Obi?” Din mouths.

You really owe him an explanation.

“I’m sorry about my sudden intrusion, darling. Anakin”—of course Anakin has something to do with this—“had hoped we could have lunch together. He’s sent me—” The door opens slowly and Obi Wan peers into the room, almost as if afraid to enter. And with good reason, when he sees Din and Baby his mouth falls slightly agape at the unexpected sight and he trails off. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company, if I had known—”

“It’s fine, Obi Wan,” you interject softly, hiking Baby higher on your hip. He’s getting bigger and heavier now, harder to hold, but it doesn’t stop you from carrying your little one. “You’re not interrupting.”

“I was just leaving,” Din follows, glancing at you with intrigue and the silent question of—who is he? You exhale softly.

“Din, this is Obi Wan Kenobi, an… old friend of mine and Luke and Leia’s godfather.” Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Obi Wan, this is Din Djarin.”

“It is nice to finally meet you.” Din moves away from you to offer his hand to Obi Wan, who accepts it. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“As have I,” Obi Wan says, stern and firm, guarded and completely unlike the Obi Wan you once knew.

Din raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything while you groan internally. What exactly has Anakin been feeding Obi Wan?

“What about Baby?” The little one in your arms squirms indignantly and you laugh, finding him looking at you with a scrunched up face, displeased that you haven’t introduced him, yet.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You nuzzle his little button nose with yours, closing some distance between you and Obi Wan. “Obi Wan, this is Baby Djarin, Din’s son.”

“Our,” Din corrects, shooting you a look.

“Right.” You bite your lip to hide your wide smile, ducking your head before nodding. “Our son.”

Obi Wan blinks, taken aback by the sudden information, and you don’t blame him. You’ll have to explain this situation to him, since apparently Anakin and Padmé chose to omit this part of your life from him, at a later date. (You ignore the fact that you have as well, but then again, you weren’t the one that kept in touch with him after he left the second time, and it’s not like you’ve had a chance to tell him since he got back either.)

He clears his throat and a smile settles on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you too, little one.”

Baby is absolutely delighted that Obi Wan is offering his hand, practically jumping out of your arms to shake his hand. Din quickly balances him and you by placing a hand in your back and another on Baby’s tummy.

“Careful,” he murmurs, which makes Baby pout and mutter, “No, thank you,” even though he’s straightening up. Chuckling, he ruffles his son’s curls. “I should get going.”

“Good luck,” you tell him, watching him lean down to kiss the top of Baby’s brown curls. “There’s no doubt you’ll get the job.”

He sighs, a corner of his lips lifting into an unsteady smile. He’s nervous. “I hope so.”

“Hey, you’re going to do great,” you assure him firmly. “You know all the ins and out, and have Cara and Greef vouching for you. You are more than qualified for this position.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” He doesn’t sound super convinced, but he still manages to nod resolutely and picks up his sling bag, but then he pauses. “You sure this is fine?”

You roll your eyes again. “Yes, Din. It’s fine. Baby being here is no trouble at all. The team loves him.”

“Okay. Okay. Just—I’ll try to head back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

His head tilts slightly, but then he nods, finally relenting. Turning to Obi Wan, he says, “Again, it was nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Obi Wan supplies back, it’s still tense and stern, but there’s something else too, something detached and unfocused.

Din doesn’t let it bother him, instead focusing on his son. “Bye, Baby.”

“Bye, Papa!”

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Yeah, yeah, go!” you urge. He shoots you a look and you laugh. “Go.”

Din finally slips out the door but not without another kiss to Baby’s head.

“Son?” Obi Wan breaks his silence as you put Baby down.

He’s quick to run to his bag and pull out a blanket, handing it to you to place for him on the floor, in front of the blue, grey loveseat. Din and you always place it on top to make it easy to take out, and after seeing you and his dad do it so many times, Baby just knows his ground blanket is always on top.

“Yes.” You spread the blanket out, smoothing it, and Baby tries to help by grabbing the corners and tugging.

“How old is he?”

“Hey, Baby,” you faux whisper, “wanna tell Obi how old you are?”

Holding up four fingers in Obi Wan’s direction, he practically yells, “Thwee, almost four!”

Obi Wan chuckles, thoroughly amused at how excited Baby is to share his age and his inability to truly say the letter r. “Wow! You’re so big.”

“Yes,” Baby says, dropping himself onto his bottom once he’s satisfied with how you’ve laid out the blanket. “Very big!”

“He’s turning four in a month,” you inform him with a smile, sitting down next to your little one. “It’s why he’s starting to put up four fingers. Luke and Leia have been teaching him.”

“So Anakin and Padmé know?”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?”

His eyebrows furrow and he looks away from you for a moment. “They didn't mention it to me.”

“Oh.” Probably because Anakin didn’t think they’d be part of my life after Din and I broke up. But that’s not what you voice, instead you say, “I figured they hadn’t with how you reacted earlier.”

“Baby is from a previous relationship of his?” He wasn’t, not exactly, but Obi Wan doesn’t need to know what isn’t your information to give. “And you and Din are co-parenting?” He raises an eyebrow, a perfectly arched eyebrow, and it reminds you so much of the young Obi Wan Kenobi that you’d try so hard to impress with your ever growing knowledge.

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to sound like he’s being judgmental, but it sure as hell sounds like it when he stares at you like that—like he’s questioning your choices. You don’t like it. Never did.

“Baby was only a few months old when he came into our lives.”

“You have grown attached.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, a heavy loaded statement, one you don’t know if you even want to begin to decipher.

You sigh slowly and say, “Yes, Obi Wan. I am attached.” Baby slaps his hands on your thighs, grinning toothily, and you smooth his hair away from his wide, brown eyes. “How could I not be? We are family. Blood or no blood.”

“I see.” He wants to say more, you can tell by the way he speaks his words slowly, with restraint.

Something bubbles in your stomach, nothing pleasant. It's anger and frustration and this need to yell at him like when you were both younger and less mature. It only ever happened when he wasn’t listening to you, treating you like you had no idea what you were doing or saying. It was rare those moments, mostly born from lack of sleep from all-nighters focused on essays and exams, or sometimes born from nothing at all, just bad luck and circumstance.

It makes you want to push, just like then; to force him to tell you exactly what he wants to say. It’s never stopped him before, so why now? But Baby babbling in full sentences to himself while trying to pull his toys out of his bag reminds you that you are not that person anymore, haven’t been that person in such a long time. And maybe it’s for the best.

“Wed truck?” Baby asks, showing off the newest toy in his collection, and when you place your hand out, thinking he wants to give it to you, he stands on his two little feet and walks over to Obi Wan, careful to not trip over the blanket. “Cheer up, pwease. Wed truck will help!”

Any hint of anger or frustration or hurt that may have remained, dissipates as Baby looks up at the standing man, his little hand holding onto his pant leg and the other holding up the truck.

Obi Wan stares down at him, and that earlier aloofness, that stern way he regarded Din, and even you with, is gone, replaced by something tender, warm and soft. “Thank you, Baby,” he says, dropping to his eye level and gingerly taking the truck from chubby hands—the toy that seems so big in Baby’s hand completely swallowed by his larger one.

Baby lets out a pleased giggle and tilts his head, grabbing onto Obi Wan’s knees. “You're very welcome!” With a random smooch to Obi Wan’s nose, he moves away from him and makes his way over to you, grinning proudly.

Obi Wan stands, watching the little boy fondly as you ruffle his hair, giving him a wet kiss to his cheek that makes him laugh loudly. “You’re raising a wonderful boy, both you and Din.”

You pause your onslaught of kisses—Baby managing to slip away from your grasp—and you watch him closely, love filling your chest. “I like to believe we are.”

Baby moves to his bag and pulls out his learning tablet, immediately plopping down with it and opening up the case to pull up one of his many learning apps. It had taken you and Din a long time to finally give in and get him the darn thing, but Padmé had vouched for the item. Now Baby can’t have enough of it, always curious about everything and waving the thing in your face occasionally to ask you a question.

“I always knew your future family would be lucky,” he says, far away look in his eyes and smile barely lifted—there, just not wide. Your breath stutters. “You and Din make a lovely couple.”

Did he not know? Is this why he didn’t know about baby?

“Obi—” Your eyebrows furrow and you find yourself standing, tentatively reaching for his hand—and why do you feel like easing whatever turmoil he is in?—“Din and I… we care for eachother, deeply. He is my friend, the father of my child, but he and I—we haven’t been together in such a long time.”

“Maker.” He breathes in and out, squeezing your hand and lifting it to his face. “I have no right to be—I have been gone for too long, haven’t I?” He rests it against the slope of his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. “Missed out too much on your life. You’ve grown so much.”

“So have you,” you whisper, allowing him to press kisses to your palm, wanting nothing more than to weave your hands into his hair. You repeat the words, because it’s true. You can see it in his tired eyes, how they don’t shine as they once used to—the lines that have appeared at the edge of his eyes and the beard he’s starting to grow out, keeping it nice and trim.

“Not as much as you think, my darling.” He chuckles, kissing your wrist one last time and just allowing your hand to cradle his cheek. “Appearance wise, maybe. But mentally…”

“That can’t be true. You wouldn’t be here if it were.” Even if it’s only for a couple of days.

“Perhaps.”

Baby giggles and you briefly glance at him. He’s perfectly content, mouthing words and sounding them out.

“If I,” Obi Wan starts, stealing your attention from your baby, “if I told you I wanted to stay, what would you say?”

Your throat swallows—dry, like sandpaper, eyes wide as they study him, searching for a semblance of uncertainty or lie in his words. Perhaps for a confirmation that this isn’t a cruel joke meant to tug at your heartstring and pull them apart until you’ve become undone. There is nothing in his clear, blue eyes that tells you it is.

But you know that Obi Wan wouldn’t say something like this without it holding some truth.

He waits patiently for you, eyes searching yours just as intensely—but he’s worried, eyes wavering, unconfident.

This isn’t you. This isn’t him. This topsy-turvy, unstable relationship where you’re trying to figure out the other person, learn who they have become in the years lost without asking or finding a reason to talk. No, your relationship was always about comfort, knowing the other by watching and observing, of making the other feel safe—at home.

You know how to respond, “I would say: welcome home, Obi Wan Kenobi.”

“I’m home,” his voice hoarse and thick, “my little warrior.”

Your mouth falls open—the words, the question: “are you truly staying?” stuck in your throat and trying to form on your tongue, but you’re in disbelief. “Obi-Wan, what—”

A small arm slivers around your leg, and you stumble forward from the startle and momentum, knocking into Obi Wan. Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright and steady against his chest. Your eyes lock onto blue ones in surprise and he mumbles a soft, “Hello, there.”

You huff under your breath, mumbling your own, “hello” and he smiles at the sound. Ignoring the flutter in your tummy and chest (blaming it on the stumble you almost took), you glance down to find Baby with an arm wrapped around Obi Wan’s leg and yours, hugging you both tightly.

“Welcome home, Obi,” he exclaims when you both glance down.

Obi Wan laughs loud, head thrown back and hair falling over his eyes—your heart constricts at the sight. When was the last time you saw him laugh like this—not in pictures or videos but in person?

Too long, your heart supplies in a broken whisper.

“Why thank you, little one.” He slowly untangles himself from you and crouches down in front of Baby, brushing his curls away from his face. “Would you like to see a magic trick?”

“Magic?” Baby claps, letting out an excited chirp of agreement, ready to be wowed by whatever Obi Wan was about to show him. “Yes, please!”

Warmth takes over you as you watch how gentle Obi Wan is with Baby, which doesn’t surprise you. But it hits differently when it’s your own child he’s being sweet to. Is this what it would’ve been like if he had given you both a chance? Kids of your own? Marriage?

Your phone rings, pulling you out of a spiral of thoughts you would rather not go down when he’s present. You thank the maker for the timely call and answer without a thought—“Anakin.”

“Where are you?”

You sigh, turning away from Obi Wan and Baby to focus on your shelves full of astronomy books. “I’m not coming to lunch.”

Baby squeals in delight and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as he grabs the quarter Obi Wan produced from thin air.

“Is that the little womp rat I hear?” You hummed in agreement, briefly explaining why Baby is with you and not his father. “That usually doesn’t stop you from coming out to lunch with me.”

Baby shows you the coin and you mouth an excited, “Woah, that’s amazing!” He laughs giddily and returns it to Obi Wan, asking him to do it again.

You briefly glance at Obi Wan and Baby and lock eyes with the former. You offer him a small smile before quickly turning away. “You have something to tell him, don’t you? You said you would.”

“I—I know.”

“Not so easy, is it?” you murmur, trying to make a joke out of it, but it falls flat, and you know it does when he sighs.

“I’ll do it. I will,” he affirms. “Rip it off like a bacta strip.”

“Ani, you don’t have to.”

He’s quiet for a moment and when he breaks it, his voice does too, “I owe him this much.”

This much. Clean—the air was too clean when there was blood and death and—stop!

You shake your head and your heart drops to your stomach. Stars. You should’ve figured this had nothing to do with Obi Wan but everything to do with Anakin. Maker, how stupid could you have been? You were so worried about you and Obi Wan that you neglected Anakin completely!

“Ani—“ your breath stutters.

“Darling?” You turn around, and Obi Wan stands only a few steps away from you, Baby sitting on his forearm as if weighed nothing—blue eyes watching you worriedly. “Everything all right?”

No.

“Yes.” You clear your throat. “I think Baby and I will be joining you for lunch, afterall.” Anakin says your name, and you cut him off. “We’ll meet you by the pendulum.” Anakin once more says your name, but you hang up on him.

“Shall we get going?” You meet Obi Wan’s gaze with a shaky smile, pushing your hair away from your face.

There was never a dull moment when it was you, Padmé, and Obi Wan. Your headmistress used to call you and Padmé trouble, wondering how it was possible you two could influence each other so badly and still keep up with your grades—as if sneaking out and fooling around occasionally was so blasphemous.

Things only got livelier when you graduated and Anakin moved to Coruscant. Thankfully for your headmistress’ blood pressure, you were long gone, starting university and finally moving into the apartment your parents had promised you would be yours (and Anakin’s). Instead, you were giving Obi Wan headaches and Padmé heart palpitations.

Much to their dismay and your amusement.

“Remember when you punched the guy?”

“Don’t remind me!” You groan, clutching your hand. “My hand still hurts whenever I think of that night.”

“If I remember correctly, Anakin also punched him,” Obi Wan says pointedly in Anakin’s direction. “And that ultimately got us banned from the bar.”

“To be fair, he was asking for it.” Anakin shrugs. “I only finished the job she started.”

“Go!” Padmé yelled, louder and with much force than Anakin.

“What?” You didn’t even get to finish the word as the large man you had punched emerged from the bar, blood caked to his face and eye swollen beyond belief—which you know for a fact you didn’t do. And he wasn’t alone; four other men with menacing mugs followed after him, heads whipping in different directions—until they landed in your direction.

Your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach—that’s not good. “Kriff!”

Without waiting for the others, Obi Wan took your hand in his and began to lead you away from the parking lot, ignoring your sudden yelp at being tugged in the opposite direction of where you were positive he parked his car.

“What did you do, Anakin?” Obi Wan yelled back at the twenty year old, who looked far too amused by the situation than he should’ve been.

“Gave him a little taste of what he deserved!”

Padmé yelled something, voice drowned out by a motorcycle rushing by you, but it was followed by laughter so loud it overpowered the sounds of the ever alive city.

“What was it that Padme said while we were running?” you ask, trying to remember with narrowed eyes.

“That they couldn’t take us anywhere nice,” Anakin says with a shit eating grin.

You scoff, muttering, “That’s right,” while turning to Baby to make sure he was finishing his soup.

“And she was right.” Obi Wan shakes his head. “Having to pick up my car from the tow yard was a nightmare the next morning.”

“Hey! Padmé and I thought you two were already in the car.” Anakin gestures between you and Obi Wan. “I was kind of chancing on our getaway car being ready, but no, instead you two were just standing there in the middle of the parking lot.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

The corners of your lips drop and you try to pick them up again as best as you can, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace. It does. You know it does with how Obi Wan’s smile wavers and Anakin glances between you with a raised brow.

“Well,” Obi Wan starts, hoping to remove the uncomfortable veil that has fallen over you, “it’s a birthday I’ll never forget.”

“It was a good one, wasn’t it?” Anakin takes the bait, recalling that night fondly. “But nothing beats turning 18 and finally moving to Coruscant, for me.”

You laugh under your breath and Obi Wan chuckles, both sounding a little strained, but Anakin doesn't seem to notice. Probably for the best.

“All done,” Baby suddenly celebrates, raising his arms with glee in your direction.

“Good job, you little womp rat!” Anakin reaches for Baby and cleans his face with a napkin, your little one allowing him to do so, unlike when you try to do it. While Anakin might have some thoughts towards Din, there was no denying Baby holds a spot in Anakin’s soft heart.

“I’ll get the check,” Obi Wan offers, waving to get the attention of your waiter. You’re about to refute him, but Anakin nudges your shoe and shakes his head. Sighing softly, you close your mouth and watch him give up his card to the young man that had been serving your table.

“Thank you,” you whisper gratefully and he smiles at you.

“It’s my pleasure, darling.”

With your meal paid and Obi Wan’s card returned to him, you exit the restaurant with Baby holding your hand and walking, refusing to be held and carried to the trolley. It means you’ll be walking slower, but maybe this is exactly what you need to be able to tell Obi Wan—more time.

You and Anakin exchange looks and he gives you a little nod while you let out a sigh—it’s now or never.

Rip it off like a bacta strip, little one.

“Obi Wan,” you start slowly, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

He pauses mid walk and steps aside to leave an area of the sidewalk free for people to walk by. It’s a busy day, even for a weekday, but it’s not surprising. The plaza and park near the Observatory are always busy on bright, sunny days.

“We’ve been—we’ve been having—” Anakin lets out a growl of annoyance, struggling to be able to form the words. His eyebrows scrunch up and he scowls, and you gently pull him back with a squeeze of his shoulder. He glances at you and you tilt your head to the side.

He sighs and steps aside, taking Baby from you and leading him over to the grassy field to distract him for a few minutes.

“Is everything all right?” There’s a hint of panic in Obi Wan’s words and you quickly nod to try and dispel it.

“Yes!” He’s taken aback by the volume of your voice and you soften your next words, “Everything is fine. There’s just something he’s—we’ve been wanting to tell you for quite some time.” Now that your hands are unoccupied, you wring them and keep your eyes leveled with his chest. “Every year, for the past few years, we—we’ve been visiting your father’s resting place,” you whisper, afraid of what speaking these words aloud might do to him. Last time you tried telling him, he shut down the idea before you could even bring it up completely.

“I—I see,” he answers with trepidation, unsure.

“Everyone gets together to clean the area and replace the flowers we leave for him when we visit.”

“I—I appreciate it.”

“And when we’re done we go home and we—”

“You honor my father,” he says hoarsely, finishing it off for you.

“It’s what he wanted,” you murmur. And it was. He knows this. He was present when Qui Gon said so. “We would—we would like it if you joined us, Obi Wan. Everyone brings a dish and we have live music, and we share stories—”

“I—I see… and when is this happening?”

“The day before—”

“The day before he passed,” he once again finishes for you and you nod hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze, and although he’s already looking at you, his eyes are glazed over, not exactly focused on you.

“Obi—”

He takes a step back and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, darling. I—I need to go.”

Not again. Please, not again!

“Obi—” you try once more, reaching for his hand, but he jerks away and your hand falls, grasping the empty space between the two of you—again.

“Please tell Anakin I will speak to him soon.” He turns on his heels and swiftly walks away—shoulders tense and never once looking back.

“You must let go when the time comes, little one.”

Your shoulders sag, letting out a shaky breath as Anakin comes to a stop beside you. There’s no need to look at him to know he’s been hurt by Obi Wan’s reaction, because you have been too. But what is there to expect of a person who doesn’t want to let go of the dead?

Obi Wan was right, he hasn’t changed at all, and you were a fool to hope otherwise.

“Let’s go,” you break the silence, taking Baby from him and placing Anakin’s hand—that hand—in yours, not missing the way it trembles in your hold.

Mando’a translations

Buir = parents/son/daughter

Ad’ika = my child

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #reader insert #obi wan kenobi imagine

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silence-burns · 3 years

Text

Please Hate Me //part 47

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter

There are few things better suited to following a great summoning ritual than stalking a kindergartener and, quite literally, taking the candy out of his chubby little hand.

"Hey, that's mine!" the brat, Timmy, screamed, but had to watch Loki unwrap the popsicle and munch on it.

"Oh, Timmy," you sighed. "I thought a tough kid like you would handle this better."

"Who the hell even are you weirdos?" Timmy considered ending his question with a kick to the shins of one of you, but decided otherwise under the unnerving gaze of the strange man in a green suit. There was something off about him, that much was certain, but little Timmy couldn't wrap his mind around how otherworldly he actually felt.

He looked around, but none of his friends were around yet, and neither were any adults.

You smiled your beautiful, wicked smile. "Don't fret, Timmy. We've heard all about your deeds, and boy, did we actually love them."

Timmy frowned. His chubby cheeks puffed up just in case it was time to scream. You didn't look like parents of whatever kid he might've recently offended. The pocket money he was getting ;ately from his schoolmates was nothing to worry about. A few bucks here and there weren't a reason for such a direct approach. Okay, those glitter pens he took from that girl last week might cause some bigger stirrup, but she certainly had a different set of parents last time he saw her.

"The hell are you talking about?" the boy settled on a safe approach.

Loki chuckled and leaned down to look him in the eyes. The features of his face started to blur. Timmy frowned, but blinking didn't clear it up. The harder he looked, the more they melted, and molded, and reformed-

"We know what you've been doing, child," the creature's horns grew and curled, just as more and more sets of eyes popped open. "We have our eyes on you."

The shadows deepened, and the world turned colder and eerily quiet. It was the absolute stillness of something deeply unnatural moving right past you.

But Timmy, despite what his teachers might say, was a smart kid. Being a bully and a petty little thief for years without facing actual repercussions of his actions could not be achieved if one didn't know when was the time to run. Timmy knew that time had come and didn't wait for things to unravel any further. His short legs took him surprisingly far in just a few seconds. Loki and you could only watch him go.

"Do you think it'll be enough?" you asked, taking the lollipop from Loki. It was the strawberry flavor. "I certainly wouldn't want to fail our first commission."

"I guess we'll see," Loki shrugged off the spell. "But I'm pretty sure we gave him something to think about. I can send one of the shadows after him to make sure he doesn't pick on our 'client' at school tomorrow. It'll be awhile before they disperse after summoning, so we can make use of them."

"Will they still lead us to the stolen pin though?"

"Without any problem."

And that closed the case. It was a little satisfying, Loki had to admit.

He was still unsure about the pin, though. There was something off about the type of magic he sensed in the box. Faint as it was, the tang of death and rot was still unmistakable and didn't fit in the mental image of SHIELD's safehouse it was supposed to be stored in. It made the chase after the truth more thrilling.

Loki fixed his suit. It was not the type of fashion he usually preferred, but the way you looked at him in it made it worth it. There was nothing as confidence-boosting as being aware that you’re the eye candy for anyone lucky enough to pass.

"Shall we?" Loki offered you his elbow as the shadows gathered and formed a rough doorway. Beyond it, only darkness swelled.

Stepping through it was a fight against condensed mist, but at least it had none of the flesh-shredding quality of Bifrost.

The shadows Loki had called followed the invisible trail of magic the pin left behind after it was stolen. There was little chance of them being wrong or simply misled, Loki had assured you earlier. As beings stuck in a state of half-existence, there was not in the physical realm so often that it could affect their judgement and cover the tracks. Still, even Loki had a moment of doubt when he took in the place the two of you had been led to.

"I think we should've used that chicken," you said, looking around what was unmistakably a forest. A thick, dark, and very old forest. Definitely the type of forest unwelcome to unannounced travelers.

It did not mean you were scared. You were just aware of a certain, thick atmosphere hanging low in the cold, winter air. Somehow, it was darker than it should've been at that hour. The trees loomed over you, their branches twisted and hanging low enough to strangle.

Loki kept on patting your arm while your terror grew, and despite ignoring him for a while, you finally decided to turn.

A thick wall of a hedge, painted in a rotting green and sprinkled with half-melted snow, stood tall and guarded whatever was behind it. The branches were woven too tightly together to take even a peek between them.

"Is that a house? In the middle of a forest?" You asked, but no answer came. There was no road leading to the house. The trees encircled the hedge, but didn't interrupt its space, as if that particular spot had been chopped out of the forest. As if the usual rules of logic and nature didn't apply there.

"Strange," Loki muttered to himself as he walked closer. The hedge ran far in both directions, and from the point you approached it, no gateway could be seen. High above your heads, thin swirls of smoke rose into the air.

"We should walk around and see how to get in." You gestured to the left.

Loki looked up. The hedge loomed a few heads above him. Even if Loki jumped, he wouldn't see above it. He jumped anyway.

And was swallowed by the hedge.

You knew there was something wrong with that forest, and the strange house especially, even before the branches shot out and wrapped around Loki. He only managed a yelp of surprise before he was pulled in towards the impenetrable depth of the bushes. As much as it was reassuring to know that your senses and intuition were as sharp as ever, the time to brag would come later. Using the ace up your sleeve, or rather sword in your pocket, you made quick work of all the choppable branches.

Loki dropped to the ground.

"You could've cut off my hand!" He looked in horror at the cleanly cut piece of his sleeve. It had been a close call indeed.

"Couldn't you regrow it?"

Loki stopped shaking off the twigs for a moment. "I'd prefer not to find out, honestly."

The hedge, despite your trimming, was as impenetrable as before. The only thing that changed was the distance you kept away from it. After not a long discussion, you decided to look for a way in.

The little gate looked suspiciously ordinary. The metal rusted in a few spots, mercilessly beaten by years of rain and humidity. The path beyond it winded between neat rows of herbs and vegetables and occasionally flowers you couldn't name. The scent of fresh soil hung in the air as you walked through them. The house itself was neither big or new, but was most definitely haunted. There was no doubt about it. It was obvious in the way the windows watched you approach. In the way the smoke curled lazily through a draft you couldn't feel. In the doorknob in a shape of a hissing bat.

"Do we… knock?" you whispered. For reasons you couldn't explain, you had a feeling the house was listening to every word.

"That's usually how it goes," Loki's reply was equally quiet. He made no move to knock, though.

A hollow hooting was the only warning before a dark shape swooped by your heads and landed over the door. The owl was big, even once it settled and closed the wings. The feathers, in various shades of grey and muddy brown, hid it almost perfectly against the wooden planks of the house.

It was a nice owl, one might think without looking closely. Because under further scrutiny, one would notice the deep gash only partially hidden by the puffed up feathers, and the bones peeking out underneath them.

You stared at the dead owl and it stared back.

It hooted.

"I know, I said I'm coming!" the voice from inside the house shouted. The footsteps neared. Loki and you braced against whatever you'd have to face.

The door creaked open.

Many thoughts had passed through your mind, but one thing you didn't expect to see was a spotty-faced, alarmingly skinny young man in jeans and a cloud of smoke surrounding him. You got a facefull of an aroma that reminded you of college dorms. You wondered if Loki thought he’d met the wrong end of a skunk.

"Listen," he said, gesticulating wildly. "I know that y'all always want shit, but my grandma is still on her vacation, and I'm currently busy. She'll surely contact you once she's done, but nothing has changed since last time, and I still don't know when she'll be back."

The owl descended majestically and sat on his still raised hand. The man blinked in mild confusion.

"I fed you already, don't give me that look, Barbara."

Loki looked at you. You looked at Loki. The owl turned her head backward and noticed both.

"I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time we're meeting," Loki forced himself to say after your not-so-subtle nudge to his ribs. "Could we bother you for just a moment?"

"I'm busy, I've got a shift tomorrow and—"

Loki barged in anyway, not interested much in whatever the man had to say.

The little house turned out to be more of a cottage. Even though some work had been done to restore it and make use of modern inventions, the very core of the cottage stayed the same as it possibly had been for decades, if not longer.

The herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry filled the air with a pleasant, if a little heavy smell that clung to skin and clothes alike. The huge chimney was full of wooden planks and blasting enough heat from the other end of the large working space to make you regret wearing winter clothing. Whatever was boiling in the huge iron pot hanging over the blazing fire was unlikely to be edible judging by the consistency and color. Or at least you hoped it was not supposed to be edible.

The owl flew in and perched on a chair.

"Listen, I'd really appreciate it if you could leave me alone," the man groaned, following you.

He took another drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke, eyes red-rimmed. The owl hissed and moved over the chimney, where she sat with as close to an angry expression as a half-dead owl was capable of.

To your left, a rather familiar and highly surprising uniform laid along with medical equipment.

"We'll leave as soon as we get the answers we need," you promised. "And our first question is - who the hell are you, exactly?"

The man blinked. "Are you joking? I thought you were clients."

"What would you sell if we were?"

"I mean," he gestured around. "It's my grandma who deals with potions, but I suppose I could give you a medical check up if you need one? And don't worry if you're dying, that's even better, I've got that covered too. Just make sure to come to me before the decay starts, and I'll put you back on your feet in no time."

"Wait, I'm confused," Loki frowned. "Are you a doctor or a necromancer?"

"My dude, I have no idea where you've been the past few decades, but if you think med staff is capable of making a living from just one job, you honestly should get a reality check. Look around - I literally still live with my grandma and don't even get me started on how much debt I still have to pay off with those stupid side jobs."

"You mean, resurrecting pets?" You looked at the owl. Barbara was not blinking.

"Listen, I'm at the point of my life where I don't ask questions. I just need the money. I want to move out. Have you any idea what it is like to live with your 260 year old grandma who has a better social life than you?"

The silence was a little awkward.

"Precisely."

Loki wanted to take a deep, steadying breath, but whatever the young man had been smoking didn't sit well with Loki's lungs.

"I must ask though, are you raising the dead because you're such a terrible doctor, or is—"

"Paperwork."

Loki blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Have you any idea how much paperwork follows every death? I'd rather bite off my hand than do any more extra unpaid time than I absolutely have to." The man sat at the table and produced a stash of pot from somewhere. With slow, precise movements he started to roll another blunt. You bent your knees to see under the table, but couldn't find any hidden drawers.

Loki nodded at the man’s comment, although he was nowhere near possessing that kind of knowledge. Deaths that he usually participated in involved little to no paperwork.

"Was this involved in one of your recent side-jobs?" Loki put the little wooden box on the table.

The man shook it before opening. Only after sniffing it did the look on his face change to recognition. "Yeah, I think it was. I was paid to get a pin from it. I don't know what happened to it afterward, though. The client just paid and disappeared."

"How did you get it?"

"Mice."

"What?" Loki asked. You looked around, just in case.

"No one cares about mice, especially in huge warehouses. That makes them perfect for the job, especially if they're controlled properly."

The dead owl hooted in agreement. Loki had an idea how the mice had been initially caught.

"That complicates our case," he whispered to you.

"Who paid you?" you asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't be...

"I don't know," the young man shrugged. "Some guy in a trenchcoat and lots of shiny money. My favorite kind of a client."

The man suddenly had a few golden coins out and in his hand. You hadn’t even seen his hands go under the table that time. The coins were heavy and most definitely not fake, although you didn't recognize any of the symbols they bore.

Loki did.

"Do you think that agent of yours will cover any extraterrestrial expenses?" he asked, watching the reflexes shine on the golden surface.

"Where are we going?"

"To the biggest black-market-turned-casino-turned-complete-mess of a planet in the universe."

"How lovely," you said.

Barbara agreed, hooting happily as she hopped off the chimney and landed on Loki's shoulder.

"Take her." The young necromancer yawned sleepily. "She hates me anyway. Just remember not to give her any pickles. She's got terrible gas."

#please hate me #loki x reader #loki x you #loki #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki series #loki mcu #marvel loki #loki fanfic #avengers loki

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Thin Line

Summary: You’re wild and free. She’s strict and trained. You and Natasha are polar opposites and it drives her crazy. Each move you make annoys her to no end. But, there’s a thin line between annoyance and adoration.

Rating: 18+ Violence, Mentions of Death, and Smut

Chapter 4

Natasha Romanoff is a cuddler. Yes the bad ass, red head, assassin likes to cuddle.

You didn’t know it at first, and honestly you didn’t think she’d want to do it, but you soon found out how wrong you were.

It took you by surprise. Both you and Natasha had packed your things up and loaded on to the Quinjet, since Fury was asking for you to come back. You had helped her check over everything and sweep the jet for any tampering, before settling into a seat in the back.

You, thinking Natasha was going to fly, dove into your thoughts. Which of course revolved around the enticing woman.

There was this feeling swarming through you. It nagged at you to figure out what’s going on between you and Natasha and you hated it. Just when things had started to get better, with her no longer hating you, your feelings begged to be acknowledged.

Why? Why couldn’t you just be satisfied with kissing her and whatever else comes with it? Why did you feel the need to define it?

It was with that thought that she chose to come over. After turning on autopilot, she eased into the seat beside you and pulled your arms around her, relaxing back into your body.

You were frozen for a good minute, until her lips pressed against your hand. The whole interaction gave you butterflies. Butterflies that you still feel along with a bit of anxiousness as F.R.I.D.A.Y tells you you’re a half hour away from the compound.

“Is there a reason your heart is beating so fast?” Natasha asks, voice barely above a whisper.

The breath you take in is shaky,“ I’m just uh- well- we’re not telling the team about any of this, right? Or do we like, need to disclose or something?”

“Y/N,” she shifts to face you but makes sure your hands stay on her,“ we don’t need to disclose anything. Just try not to freak out over any of this okay?”

A frown marks your face,“ so it is obvious I’m freaking out. I’m sorry about that, by the way, I’m sure the last thing you want is me over thinking whatever this is.”

“Why would that be the last thing I want?” She narrows her eyes at you.

Her question has you stumbling over simple words, mashing syllables together to form some type of coherent statement.

“If you don’t say something I can understand I’m going to be forced to use extreme measures.” She half teases.

You chuckle and shake your head.

“Now answer the question.”

“I just don’t want to make this awkward by asking what all this means or what we are. There’s no reason to rush and label it but my brain isn’t exactly on board with that idea.”

She pulls a smile, a small one, but still a smile,“ just relax. If we ever get to a point where the team needs to know, they’ll know. And I agree that we should take things slow. I’ve never done this before so I’d rather not-”

“I get it.” You smile back,“ consider this topic tabled until further notice.”

“Okay.”

“Still,” you turn her so she’s back in your arms and rest your chin on her shoulder,“ I know it’s gonna be hard for you when we get back. Keeping this from the team means you can’t be all over me like you love.”

Natasha is quick to look back at you as if you’d grown another head,“ me? You’re the problem.”

“Sure, whatever helps you-”

Not wanting to hear your cocky little remarks, Natasha kisses you, and then pulls away to go pilot the jet.

“That’s exactly what I mean, you find me irresistible.”

“Shut up Y/L/N.”

The second the jet lands you’re snatching up your bag and exiting.

Green eyes follow your every move and Natasha’s heart clenches.

Could you really not wait to get away from her? Had everything you’d done on the mission simply because Fury told you to play nice?

Only for your face to pop back around the corner,“ you coming pretty girl?”

Meanwhile, the guys wait anxiously in the common room. Having heard the jet land they prepare themselves for the bickering they’re about to hear, that or only one of you walking through that door(their money being on Natasha).

Except there isn’t any bickering when you and Natasha step out of the elevators, there isn’t even a frown. You’re smiling as you speak to the assassin and she’s maintaining her usual stoic expression.

“Uh, hey.” Clint says, grabbing your attention,“ how was the mission?”

Raising an eyebrow at Natasha, you chuckle, and turn to the guys,“ it was a success obviously, basically guaranteed when Fury assigned me.”

This earns a chuckle from the guys and agreeing cocky remarks from Tony and Sam.

Natasha rolls her eyes,“ you’re all incorrigible. Where’s Wanda?”

All the guys mumble a different answer which earns a skeptical gaze from Natasha.

“Yeah, way to sell it guys.” You pull a thumbs up with a sarcastic smile.

Before any of the guys can reply Wanda does.

“Natasha, you’re back.” She steps out of the kitchen.

“Ha I was right!” Sam exclaims.

You roll your eyes, instead focusing on the girls.

Natasha gestures to you,“ I doubt you two have met yet, Wanda this is Y/N our newest teammate, Y/N this is Wanda.”

Despite her being here all the time this was in fact the first time you’ve actually met Wanda. You’ve seen her around but neither of you have ever spoken. Mainly because she kept to herself but also because she was with Natasha a lot, the woman who previously disliked you.

However, you’re glad to meet her and you tell her that, which almost makes her smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too Y/N.” Wanda nods, her Sokovian accent lacing each word.

“So Wanda, how’re you getting on here? The guys drive you nuts while we were gone?” You make conversation as Natasha goes over to Clint after his not so subtle gestures.

The brunette shrugs,“ they’re not all intolerable.”

You follow the flicker of her gaze to Vision the very quiet and observant humanoid. Had she not looked at him you wouldn’t have even known he was here.

You smirk,“ you two talk often?” You make sure not to ask loudly so as to not alert anyone to the Sokovian’s possible crush.

Her eyes widen in the slightest as she looks at you, but she still answers,“ no. But we’re both busy so-”

“Yo Vision!” You call to him, and he wastes no time coming over.

“Agent Y/L/N, Miss Maximoff.” He nods to the both of you.

Wanda blushes at his presence alone, murmuring,“ I told you to call me Wanda.”

Smiling softly you place a hand on his shoulder,“ we were just talking about team movie night tonight and Wanda was saying how she could use some help preparing snacks and stuff but I’ll be busy in debrief, those guys are incompetent, which makes you the perfect candidate to aid the gorgeous Chef Maximoff.”

Vision’s attraction is instantly noticeable as the android stammers over his words, struggling to put together a proper sentence.

“So we’re all in agreement,” you put gentle hands on their shoulders and walk them to the kitchen,“ menu doesn’t matter just don’t forget popcorn. Perfect, Vision stick close to that one.” You wink at Wanda and leave quickly.

You step over to Clint and Natasha,“ hate to interrupt best friend time but Romanoff and I have a mission to wrap up. Don’t fret we’ll be available for movies in a couple hours.”

With that you gesture to Natasha to follow you.

It’s not until you’re both down the hall that she raises a brow at you,“ what, pray tell, needs to be finished with the mission? Also what was that with Wanda and Vision?”

“Questions, questions, questions.” You tease.

Taking you completely by surprise, she pushes you against the wall. Her hands trapped you in but she didn’t touch your body at all, still you feel the heat radiating off her.

You raise an eyebrow,“ now what did we say about self control?”

“Why is it that you don’t answer questions, Y/L/N?” Her eyebrow quirks as well.

“Why is it that you ask so many questions, Romanoff?”

Silence settles as you both stare into each others eyes. Her gaze is inquisitive, one that she holds a lot with you.

The gap between you two close without you even noticing. Natasha’s breath fans your lips and that alone makes you lean in to kiss her. She smirks, cocky that you’re the one not able to control yourself.

“I win.” She whispers.

You grab her shoulders, spurned on by her words, and switch positions. She can’t suppress the moan that leaves her lips when her back hits the wall, and she wraps her arms around your neck.

Hands grip her hips as you deepen the kiss with a bite to her bottom lip. And she gasps giving the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue into her mouth. That alone has her hands roaming your body feverishly and it just feeds your need for her. And it makes you feel oh so cocky.

Cocky enough to run your fingers under her shirt, hooking your fingers into the waistline of her pants to pull her closer. You place a trail of kisses from her lips to her neck.

“Y/N,” she breathes against the shell of your ear making you shiver and pull away just as she’s dying for it to continue.

She chases after your lips, nearly pushing off the wall to capture them again.

“Eager much?” You joke breathlessly.

Her hand grips your neck,“ I don’t like to be teased Y/L/N.”

“That’s just too bad Romanoff.”

You leave her there with a smirk on your face, feeling her gaze until you turn the corner.

*****

To your surprise you don’t see Natasha again after that for a while.

After you left her in the hallway, desperate and aroused, you expected her to follow after you but she didn’t. So, you took your things to your room and put them away. It was nice to have a bit of a breather after everything that’s happened the past week.

You were able to shut your eyes for a half hour before you got too antsy to sit still. Which resulted in you going to the gym until your body was dripping sweat and your breathing was ragged.

It’s Steve who comes looking for you, informing you that Wanda and Vision are finished cooking and that everyone’s deciding on a movie.

“Alright, be there in a minute.” You nod to him, leaving the gym beside him, and heading to your room.

One shower and a clean set of clothes later, your stepping into the kitchen. You take a deep breath in, inhaling the delicious smell of the food Vision and Wanda made.

“Well damn, it smells great in here, you two are a dream team.” You compliment, eyes traveling over the blushing Witch and the bashful android, to land on an expressionless Red Head Assassin.

Vision speaks,“ thank you Agent Y/L/N, I thoroughly enjoyed cooking with Miss Maximoff.”

“I bet.” You nod, still looking at Natasha.

She was looking at you as well but unlike usual you can’t read her hidden expression.

“This movie is gonna start with our without you guys!” Tony calls.

Chuckling, you assist Vision, Wanda, and Natasha with bringing the food into the common room.

Apparently Tony’s movie suggestion, Hunger Games, won. You all know he chose it just to pick at Clint throughout the movie.

Seats fill up quickly and the remaining one is beside, lucky you, Natasha.

Giving her a smirk, plop into the seat beside her. As the movie starts, you discreetly snuggle closer to Natasha’s side, earning narrowed eyes from her.

You lean down to whisper in her ear,“ awe, don’t tell me you’re mad at me Pretty Girl.”

She runs her tongue along the inside of her jaw, thoughts running a mile a minute.

Of course she ins’t mad at you. Well, maybe a little. More than that, she’s so incredibly frustrated. You kissed her the way you did, put your hands on her skin setting her alight, and then you left her there.

She’s still frustrated, sitting next to you with her thighs clenched together searching for friction. She can’t say she did everything to get rid of the feeling because she really wanted you to take care of her needs, but she didn’t want to freak you out by moving too fast.

Especially after that moment in the jet.

Reading you was easy, sometimes, so she picked up on what was running through your head before you said anything.

Labeling it was something she thought about but let’s face it, that would be a bit much so soon. She’d just realized she likes you only to kiss you seconds after that. If anything she was freaking out over it moving too fast. She’s never felt like this before and to feel this way so fast, she’s sure she’s losing it.

You clearing your throat pulls her from her thoughts.

She hadn’t realized how long she’d left you waiting for her response.

“Uh, anyone want a refill?” You ask, standing and glancing around.

Getting no response, you nod, and go into the kitchen.

Natasha waits a beat before grabbing her cup and following after.

“Y/N-”

She watches you lean on the counter,“ I’m sorry if I overstepped earlier. I really should’ve controlled myself better. I don’t know, the way you reacted I thought you liked it but I sh-”

“Y/N stop, god stop. You didn’t overstep at all. If anything you under-stepped.”

Your eyebrows shoot up,“ huh?”

Natasha sets her cup down and rounds the counter to you. She grabs your hips and rests her forehead against your chest.

“I’m not and was not mad at you. Just so incredibly frustrated. The way you touched me, I-”

Just like that you were smirking again. With a quick irrational thought, you hoist her up on the counter and attach your lips to hers.

It’s as if the kiss from earlier had never stopped. Your hands are on each other adamantly, touching everything possible, except her hands linger on your arms and neck as that’s where your skin is exposed.

“You know,” you breathe against her neck,“ you could’ve just found me. I wouldn’t have hesitated to take care of you pretty girl.”

She moans at your words alone. Her legs are wrapped around your waist and in her attempt to squeeze her thighs together she ends up pulling you closer.

“Then take care of me.” She bites your ear.

And that makes you moan and kiss her again.

“Now this,” you two snap apart at the sound of Tony’s voice,“ does not look like your refilling drinks.”

Your eyes widen.

Natasha over comes her surprise quickly,“ Stark, you keep your mouth shut about this, understand.”

She leaves no room for argument and Tony chuckles.

“Don’t worry, I happen to like being the only person who knows things. Just don’t have sex on my counters yeah.” With that he walks out, leaving you alone again.

For a moment you two stay quiet, before you’re laughing and shaking your head.

“Well if that isn’t a sign I don’t know what is.”

She quirks an eyebrow at you,“ a sign that what?”

“That next time we should be in a more private area.”

Pink dusts her cheeks and she places a kiss on your lips,“ I’ll hold you to that.”

*****

Tag List: @uglipotata72829 @jumbojamba47

Don’t hesitate to ask to be tagged.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #mcu #reader insert #Thin Line

317 notes · View notes

inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (7/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of past trauma, fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Y/N is doing everything in her power to get back to normal and recover. However, when Dawn goes missing, she’s stuck having to ask the one person she knows can help (though she hates to admit it).

Masterlist

Sitting on the floor of the living room, I place each healing crystal ranging from rose quartz to jade neatly in a circle around me. The strong scents of peppermint and lavender fill my senses as the oils radiate from my anointed hands. These elements will help me heal both physically and mentally. It will be a tedious process, but I hope that I’ll eventually be as strong and powerful as I was previously. Closing my eyes, I do my best to focus and internalize my thoughts. Every part of healing is internalized. I have to channel the healing power from these elements and transfer them to myself.

As I sit in silence meditating, I start to hear a faint buzzing sound. This is good, it means the spell is working. I’ll have to do this each day for a certain amount of time until I feel recovered.

The front door creaks open, distracting me for a second. I return my attention back to my task. If I slip, I’ll have to start over. Besides, it’s probably just Dawn getting home from school. She insisted on walking home today and I didn’t put up a fight. The girl has been through enough already and could use some space to breathe.

“Dawn?”

I hear Joyce traveling down the stairs to greet her youngest in the foyer.

“No, it’s me,” Buffy replies.

My eyes snap open and the crystals that were floatings around me fall to the wood floor with scattered thuds.

“But where’s Dawn?! Is she with you?!” Joyce rushes out, already panicked.

“She isn’t home yet?!” Buffy questions.

“No!” Joyce frets.

I gather my belongings together and set them aside, no healing today for me. It’s alright, I can survive another day all off-balanced, what else is new. I join Joyce and Buffy in the foyer, reaching for my jacket on the hook. The two of them turn to me.

“Where are you going?” Buffy questions.

“Going to go find Dawn,” I explain plainly, slipping on my leather jacket.

“But you’re still recovering,” Joyce ever so kindly reminds me.

Someone has to go find Dawn and these two are just standing here going back and forth.

“Someone has to do it,” I remark, sounding unintentionally snarky.

“Use a tracking spell!” Buffy suggests as if I haven’t already thought of that.

“I’m too weak. My intuition, along with everything else, is all out of wack,” I grumble, annoyed with my useless state.

“Then I’m coming with,” Buffy declares, already setting down her things from school.

“Peachy,” I mutter, already heading out the door. “You take the north side of town and I’ll take the south,” I instruct Buffy on the way to my car. “Call Willow to have her be on the lookout. I’ll check in with Xander and Anya, Dawnie may have gone over there.”

Buffy grabs my forearm, stopping me on the sidewalk in front of her house. “Why didn’t you pick her up from school today?!”

I raise my brows at her, the audacity of this girl. Is she seriously trying to accuse me of something? Who was the one who saved Dawnie’s ass last week and nearly lost my mind because of it?

I pull my keys out of my pocket and unlock my car with a snicker. “Don’t start with me, Buffy,” I warn her with a dismissive grin. “Let’s just find your sister.”

She releases my wrist and I jog to the driver’s side of my car. Climbing in, I immediately turn on my radio, blasting alternative rock. Buffy runs down the sidewalk, heading north. Geez, I was right. The sooner I can get out of this town and save everyone’s ass, the better.

___________________________________

As the sun starts setting, I’m running out of places to check. Xander and Anya haven’t seen Dawn all day. The achy feeling in my gut is growing with each passing minute. Dammit, why didn’t I just pick her up from school?! I slap my hands against the wheel of my car, screaming at the top of my lungs. If Dawn is fucking hurt, it’s going to be my fault and everything is already my fault! First, I go and get my head scrambled like damn eggs by Glory. Then, I fuck things up with Spike which were already pretty fucked up already now that I think about it. Finally, it’s my fault that Dawn is missing!

Wait, Spike! He’s the last person I feel like seeing right now, but he might be able to help! After the other day, when he said what he did and Buffy came in, he ran off. He never came back. Oh screw it! Ignoring the laws of the road entirely, I do an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road, whipping back in the direction of the cemetery. I guess I’m making a late visit to Bleach Head.

_____________________________________

Without invitation, I barge into Spike’s crypt. I’ve never actually been here before, never having the pleasure of a visit. However, Buffy’s told me a million times about it, so it wasn’t hard to find.

“Spike!” I shout for the peroxide crazed vampy. “Dawn’s missing, I need-”

I halt, my eyes land on Spike and Dawn sitting across from one another on a casket vault. What the actual hell? Spike’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as I slowly approach the duo.

“Y/N!” Dawnie squeals with excitement. “Spike was just telling me the most intense story!”

My eyes remain on Spikes as I stand beside my young cousin. “Is that so? What about?”

“Oh it was nothing,” Spike is quick to hurry along with the conversation.

“It’s so suspenseful!” Dawn gushes.

“I don’t think Y/N cares to-”

She interrupts Spike, continuing to ramble. My attention fades as I look to Spike for some real answers. I haven’t seen him in a few days. He looks like shit. Well, he’s still gorgeous, but a little... well... undead. Spike nervously avoids my gaze, his eyes flickering between me and Dawn.

“Hey Dawn,” I interrupt her chatter calmly.

She hums, perking up.

“Could you wait for me outside? Your mom and Buffy are losing their shit and I need to get you home,” I explain, finally breaking free of Spike’s gaze to focus on Dawn.

“Oh great! So Buffy is just going to hell at me when I get home?!” She fusses with a whine.

“I’m not the one who decided to visit the cemetery on the way home with calling to let me know first,” I smirk at her with a knowing look.

She hops down from the vault with a huff and slings her back over her shoulder. “At least it was you who found me and not Buffy I guess,” she grumbles.

Abruptly, she grabs my arm in a panic. Why is everyone doing that today? Do I have a sign on my forehead that says ‘please grab me! I love to be touched!

“You’re not going to tell her where I was are you?!” She rushes out.

“You think I want Buffy yelling at me all night?” I sass, looking at her like she has three heads. “No way, you were at Janice’s, deal?”

“Deal,” she smiles and heads to the door. “Bye Spike!”

“Later Nibblet,” he hollers back before directing his attention to me.

“Go wait in the car!” I command. “No running off!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she repeats monotony, shutting the crypt door behind her.

Spike fiddles his rings, his head hanging low. I lean against the vault, crossing my arms over my chest. There’s a painful silence between us. Since the moment we met, there was never silence. When he thought I was Glory, we spoke. Even when we were fighting and arguing there was discussion. I’m unsure of what to say, but I’m certain I hate the silence.

“You’re... you’re very good with her,” he compliments quietly. “Nibblet.”

I swallow hard, finding myself wishing he would just look at me. Instead, he continues to avoid my eyes as he pulls himself a cigarette. I watch quietly as he lights it and takes a smoke.

“You are too,” I return the compliment in a whisper, lacking confidence.

His head slowly rises with surprise written on his features. Evidently, he didn’t expect me to exchange pleasantries. He forgets I’m not my cousin. I didn’t come here to yell at him or be bitter about everything. I’ve seen his memories, I’ve seen the cards he’s been dealt, and I understand. Why would I want to add to that mix? He’s been through enough and has caused enough suffering as it is.

Hesitantly, I approach Spike steadily. He sits uncharacteristically still with his sea-blue eyes locked on me. Slowly, I raise my hand reaching out for his cheek as my eyes search every aspect of his face. He cowers away slightly, avoiding contact for my sake. When I don’t flinch or show any signs of fear of the action, he relaxes. His brows scrunch together in faint confusion. I hover my fingers over my cheekbone, unable to actually touch him. The limitation frustrating me to high heaven. All I want to do is to touch him, feel him, yet I can’t.

My eyes glance back to his, his exquisite sea glass blue eyes. They flicker between my eyes and my lips. Compelled by him, I lean forward at a cautious pace bringing my lips closer to his. Spike hesitates, searching my eyes worriedly for any sign of second thoughts. Considering my hindered and weak state, I can’t blame him. It’s the only way we can touch and I need to touch him. He places his hand on my jacket covered arm, squeezing it gently. Then, he completes the remaining distance between us, pressing his lips to mine.

Closing my eyes, I see bright flashes of white and silver light. They’re bright like fireworks illuminating a dark sky and I feel an immense charge coursing through my body. Pressing my palm to Spike’s chest, I guide him back to rest against the vault. He complies, gripping my waist as I climb on top of him. No different than a rushing wave, it travels through my blood like a golden stream of life. I haven’t had this much energy in me since before Glory’s attack. My weak state is squashed and becomes a distant memory. As if I’m drinking from the Fountain of Youth, I can’t get enough. I lean into the sensation, deepening the kiss, craving more. I surrender to the glorious essence that consumes my body and soul. I let myself go and a jolt shocks me, causing me to break away. Sitting up, I catch my breath.

“Y/N!" Spike shouts my name beneath me.

I snap my head down, meeting his wide-eyed gaze.

"Your eyes,” he gasps, prompting himself up on one arm and holding me with his other. "They're... they're bright blue! Almost white even! Like bolts of lighting are circling in them!"

I blink rapidly and glance down at my hands. Strays of electricity travel between my fingers at random. I feel their charge and warmth. I snicker lightly, the overwhelming sensation makes me feel like I'm floating on a cloud. I've never felt so high and powerful in life. I could part the whole damn Pacific if I wanted to! God, this feels great!

_________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @hexmancia

#spikexreader #spike x buffy #spuffy #spike fanfic #spike #buffy s5 #buffy summers #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs imagine #sirius black imagine #btvs fanfic #fanfic

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honouraryweasley12 · 3 years

Text

A Magical Melody

This was written for the amazing @adenei for the HPRomione Discord Secret Santa 2020. If you’re not following her, you are missing out on some excellent Romione content.

Also on FF.n

Summary: Ron gets an education on Muggle music as he and Hermione visit her home and share some tender moments after the war.

Ron's loud footsteps echoed in the kitchen as he barrelled down the stairs of The Burrow, breaking the quiet peace.

"Morning, Mum."

Molly was busy at the stove, preparing breakfast for the Weasley clan. She greeted her youngest son as he strode toward the table.

He slid into the chair next to Hermione and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, both of them blushing under Molly's gaze. She was watching them wistfully, before turning back to a pan of fried eggs.

"Morning, love."

Hermione grinned at him, slowly getting used to the terms of endearment he seemed so fond of using. "Good morning."

He dropped his head onto her shoulder and snuggled close before letting out a wide yawn.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good, until I woke up and you weren't—"

She kicked him under the table, shutting him up. The fact that she'd been sneaking into his room at night to fall asleep in his arms was not something she wanted Mrs. Weasley to hear about.

"Sorry," he murmured in her ear, causing a pleasurable shiver to run through her body. She loved that they could be so close now, after denying themselves for so long.

His volume increased significantly. "How did you sleep in Ginny's room?"

She tutted under her breath, but played along with his charade nonetheless. "I was fine; no nightmares."

"Good. Why are you up so early? I thought I finally convinced you that sleeping in was good for you."

She paused for a moment, running her fingers up and down the teacup in front of her.

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking..."

"That's not a surprise."

Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately and continued on.

"Ever since your Dad and Bill finished checking my parents' home for curses and traps last week, it's been on my mind. What state is the house in? Should I do something about it or wait?"

"You usually don't wait for anything... except maybe me," he quipped.

"I know, I hate just sitting here, knowing there is something to be done," she fretted, completely ignoring the rest of his comment. "I even rang the energy company from the village, when I went with Ginny and your mum the other day, and everything should be reconnected by now."

Ron scrunched his eyes in deep thought. "Electricity, right?"

Hermione nodded. "What if... what if we go to my house today? See how things are? We're still waiting for the paperwork to go to Australia, and it would be nice for them to have a home to come back to." Her voice dropped to a strained whisper. "If we find them."

Ron ran his large hand gently up and down her back, the warmth through her thin shirt soothing her as he leaned forward. "We'll find them, I promise. I think visiting your house, now that it's safe, is a brilliant idea. I've always wanted to see where you grew up."

She turned her head in surprise, throwing him slightly off balance. "Really?"

He sat up and nodded, before looking down and picking at the wooden tabletop to avoid eye contact. "It was always one of those things I wondered about, but if I told you, I was scared you'd realize how much time I spent I thinking about you."

Her face softened at such a sweet, honest admission. It wasn't the first time he'd surprised her with the depth of his feelings in the short time they'd been dating. Before she could reply, Mrs. Weasley let out a sniffle and dabbed her eyes with her apron, before hustling over and placing two plates in front of them, stopping to ruffle Ron's hair.

"Geroff, Mum!" His complaint was half-hearted, causing Hermione to giggle.

"I'm just so happy for the two of you! Now, tuck in."

Ron rolled his eyes, but reached for Hermione's hand under the table, their fingers linking together. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

~*~

A quiet pop, barely noticeable in the late Spring afternoon, signalled the arrival of the couple in a posh suburb. Arriving in a small tree-lined area, they emerged onto the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

Ron shook his head, slightly disoriented from the Side-Along. They thought it was the safest way to go, since he wasn't familiar with the area where Hermione lived. His eyes widened as he took in the houses they were walking past. "Wow, these places are really fancy."

"Dentists tend to do quite well financially, so my parents bought our home in a nice location, both to live in and as a sensible investment. Their goal was to sell it when they were older and retire to the coast."

Ron nodded, still looking around in awe.

"Look, there it is!"

He directed his attention to the neat, two-storey brick home. It wasn't the largest on the block, but certainly not the smallest. It seemed quite grand and spacious for a family of three.

As they reached the front door, Hermione paused and let out a shaky breath. Ron placed his hands on her shoulders, coaxing her to face him.

"You did the right thing."

She took a moment and nodded, her body still trembling. "It just feels surreal to be back here, now that everything is over."

"From what Bill said, it seems like the Death Eaters realized it was abandoned and didn't cause much damage. I think he and Dad set most of it right already."

She nodded, and pulled out a key from her pocket.

He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and turned the knob. She peered into the dark, a beam of sunlight highlighting the dust in the air. Overcome by sudden emotion, Hermione's eyes welled up, remembering the times she had spent there with her family. Her missing family.

A second later, her nose was pressed into the softly worn cotton of Ron's shirt as he comforted her.

"You are amazing." The deep timbre of his voice was muffled by her hair. "What you did to protect them took so much, and it'll be over with soon. We're going to find them and bring them home."

She gripped him harder, tears soaking into the cloth. She hadn't realized how much her actions had cost her. How big of a weight it had been on her soul.

"I couldn't do this without you," she said into his shirt.

"I'm here for you, no matter what happens."

She wiped her eyes, before pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Thank you."

Letting out a deep, far calmer breath, Hermione turned to the doorway.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

She stepped in and flipped the familiar switch on the wall. The light in the entrance hummed to life as she surveyed her home for the first time in a year.

"Wicked!"

Ron's enthusiasm seemed to shake her out of her thoughts as she shuffled aside and let him in, locking the door behind him.

He looked around in wonder, taking it all in. She in turn was watching him, a small smile playing across her lips. He spied her expression and grinned back. "So this is it, huh? The famous Granger residence."

"I don't know how famous it is, but it's home."

Ron was fascinated. "Everything is so neat and tidy, and the walls are so straight, unlike The Burrow. It does seem much more welcoming than Harry's Aunt and Uncle's. I think that's the only other Muggle home I've ever been to."

She too glanced around. She hadn't realized how much she missed the place she grew up.

"The rest of our things aren't even out yet. I shrunk the valuables and concealed them in the attic."

The lights started flickering, causing Hermione to jump. It was then she noticed her boyfriend, flicking the switch on and off rapidly.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"Lights on, lights off. This is fun! You should try it."

She grabbed his hand, stilling it. "You can play later. We have work to do first."

Ron groaned, his head flopping back in protest. "We don't have to clean the Muggle way, do we? I still have nightmares about Grimmauld Place."

She playfully poked him in the side, causing him to flinch. "No, we'll use magic this time. We can get the cleaning done quickly, then we can start rearranging the furniture and putting things back in the cupboards."

He kissed the top of her head, before making a sweeping gesture. "Lead the way."

The two set about cleaning the empty house, the thin layer of dust coating the surfaces quickly removed. Hermione opened the curtains and windows, letting in the fresh breeze. With the aid of magic, it only took them a short amount of time to get the main areas of the first floor looking like new.

Hermione was just finishing the kitchen cabinets as Ron stopped to examine some of the appliances.

"I really should have taken Muggle Studies," he remarked as he took a closer look at the electric kettle. "Some of this stuff is interesting. I can see why Dad is so obsessed."

"Your Dad's interest in Muggle gadgets is quite unique amongst magical people, isn't it?"

"It's completely barmy."

"No more than obsessing over books or Quidditch."

He shrugged. "I guess everyone has their interests."

Hermione suddenly gasped and raced to the stairs leading to the second floor. "Wait here."

Her footsteps thumped around above him for a few minutes, until she finally reappeared and descended the stairs, her face flushed.

"What have you got there?" Ron asked as she reached him. In her hand were a number of tiny brown cubes.

"You'll see, come with me." She grabbed his hand, their fingers locking automatically, and practically pulled him to a small room at the back of the house. "This is Dad's den."

The empty built-ins were the perfect place for floor-to-ceiling books. "Your own personal library. No wonder you're so excited."

She chuckled and shook her head, before gently placing the small cubes on the floor.

"Stand back."

With a quick wave of her wand, the cubes expanded into a large pile of assorted boxes. "It's my Dad's collection. Instead of gadgets, music is his passion."

She gleefully opened the first box to find it full of cardboard sleeves. She extracted one and pulled out the thin black disc from inside to show Ron.

"These are records. They aren't as popular anymore, but a lot of purists love them. The music is imprinted in these grooves here."

"Ooh!" She said, shoving the record back into its sleeve and handing it to Ron. "Let me show you these."

Hermione moved a few boxes and found the one she was looking for. The inside revealed piles of small plastic rectangles.

"What am I looking at?"

"These are called cassettes, or tapes," she explained as she opened the case and removed the cassette, pointing out the spools inside. "The tape within contains the music. And last but not least—"

"There's more?"

"Yes!" She opened a third box and pulled out a jewel case. "These are called compact discs, or CDs."

Ron's head was spinning now as she passed him the silver disc. He held the CD in his hands, watching as it caught the light and revealed a rainbow of colours across its surface. "So why does music come in all of these different containers?"

"You'll find that Muggles are creative and adaptable to new technologies. We're constantly inventing and refining how we do things. Innovation moves much faster here than in the Wizarding world."

Ron nodded, gesturing to the records and cassettes. "So all of these have been made in the last few years?"

"Records were more popular in the 1960s and 70s, cassettes in the 80s, and CDs in the 90s. When I was here for Christmas the year before last, my dad had a new computer. He was showing me that digital music can now be downloaded as MP3 files. He thinks it's the future of music."

All Ron could do was shake his head in disbelief. "I don't understand half of what you just said, but I'll take your word for it."

He watched in fascination as she opened more boxes and stacked a number of large rectangular devices on the shelves, then untangled a spool of wires.

Ron was peering at the electronics. "I think my Dad has some of this stuff in his shed!"

"These actually play the music." She pointed out the different devices to him. "This is a turntable, it plays the records, and this is a stereo with both a cassette player and a CD player."

She directed him to lift up the large speakers and place them in the corners of the room.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm connecting the speakers so that we can hear the music. Think of these as boxes with a Sonorous charm on them."

He watched as she deftly ran the wiring and plugged everything in.

Her eyes were alight with excitement to share this with him. "What shall we listen to first?"

Ron shrugged. "Whatever doesn't sound like the rubbish Mum listens to."

"No, of course not. Muggle music has much more variety. There are so many genres: pop, rock, classical, country, hip hop. Luckily, my Dad has very diverse tastes."

"You're taking the mickey! There's no music called hip hop! Is it made by rabbits?"

She snorted. "It's completely true. I think it's more popular in America."

She started flipping through the records, trying to find something that might appeal to Ron. "Oh, this should work! The Weird Sisters were inspired by this type of music, so it should be familiar."

Ron shrugged. "I never really paid that much attention to them before."

"Surely you've heard Ginny playing their music. They played the entire Yule Ball!"

He suddenly looked pained, his mouth a thin line as he quietly responded. "Like I said, I haven't paid much attention."

Noting his tenseness, she turned back to the audio equipment. "Well, let's see what you think about this."

She fiddled with the knobs on the turntable, before pulling out the record. With a light scratch of the needle arm, the familiar static sound of a record playing filled the room.

Hermione suddenly stomped her feet and clapped in time with the loud music.

Ron clutched at his chest, broken out of his stupor. "Bloody hell!"

She grabbed his hand, her excitement contagious as he reluctantly joined in the pattern. A man's excited voice sang and Ron couldn't help bobbing his head. Hermione was smiling widely watching him.

As the music swelled, she cried out the familiar lyrics. "We will, we will rock you!"

Ron's deep voice hesitantly joined hers as their combined singing echoed off the walls. Once the song came to an end, Ron couldn't help but express his admiration, his mood lifted.

"That was brilliant!"

"See, I told you Muggles had good music. That was a rock band called Queen. I believe that song is quite popular at sporting events."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Imagine a whole Quidditch stadium doing that!"

"That would certainly be a sight. What next?"

As the two continued unboxing and organizing the rather large collection of music, Hermione took the opportunity to play a variety of different songs, just to introduce Ron to some of the genres she enjoyed.

"Dad always had music playing, and I must admit, I did miss it at Hogwarts. The few times I was here, he always had something new to listen to."

Ron was digging through a box, looking at the various CD covers when he let out a gasp.

"What is this?"

She spotted the familiar case in his hands, her face blanching in horror. "No, no, no!"

She launched herself at him, but Ron was quicker, holding the case higher than she could reach. She tried to jump up, but was unable to knock it out of his hands.

"Give that back!" She pouted over his laughter.

"I will, once I've examined it."

Hermione crossed her arms, and shot him a look that would make most people quaver.

Ron read the cover, which had been decorated with a number of hand-written hearts. "Take That?"

"They happen to be a very popular group."

Ron wrinkled his nose as he looked at the five blokes on the cover, all dressed in white. "So which poncy git did you fancy back then?"

She smirked at him, her chin jutting out. "The one I still fancy is Gary Barlow."

"Pfft! Come off it."

"Alright, fine. I did find someone better to fancy soon after that."

"Wait, who?"

She shook her head, before swatting him with the rag in her hand. "You!"

"Bloody right."

She thought she heard him mutter the word "wankers" under his breath as he tossed the case back into the box and continued his explorations.

They took their time, putting everything back by hand to enjoy the afternoon together. Hermione was an encyclopedia of musical knowledge, having learned from her father.

She would sing bits and pieces of songs as they worked, her tone slightly off-key, but it made Ron smile.

As they finished up and vanished all the empty boxes, Hermione turned to him. "What did you like best?"

He thought for a moment, scanning the now full shelves. "Definitely the rock music. I liked that Queen group, and that other one. Lead Zuplin?"

"Led Zeppelin."

"Yeah, them. The pop music was alright, so was the hip hop. I liked the... what did you call it again? Catchy beats? I didn't like the country music much."

She smiled proudly. "Look at you, you're a real expert now!"

"My Dad will be so excited."

"I wanted to play one more song, but I'm not sure if you'll like it."

"Go on then."

Hermione pulled a well-worn record from the shelf and placed it on the turntable. A strong feminine voice filled the room over a slow, romantic melody.

"At last... My love has come along."

She closed her eyes at the familiar sound, picturing the times she'd spent in the room.

"I love this song. It's one of Mum's favourites. We would sit in here on Sunday afternoons, reading, while Dad would organize his collection and play whatever latest albums he purchased."

A loud, obvious clearing of Ron's throat broke her out of her memories. Her eyes opened to find her boyfriend with his hand out, his ears blazing red.

"Didn't get the chance to do this properly last time," he mumbled before he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "May I have a dance with the prettiest girl here?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her hand clasping his before he pulled her close. She sighed as she nestled against his chest, the two of them swaying together.

She was burrowed in his arms, his warmth enveloping her. The strains of melody echoed around as the two of them danced in a sweet embrace.

"I found a thrill to press my cheek to... A thrill that I have never known."

She never thought she would one day dance with Ron Weasley in her father's den. It was like a dream come true.

Hermione sang into his shirt, her words muffled. "Oh, yeah, yeah, and you smile, you smile... Oh, and then the spell was cast."

She looked up and their eyes met again, drawn together like magnets.

"I always loved that line."

"This music does have a kind of magic to it."

"Mmm, it does."

The two of them slowly spun, holding onto each other as if they would fly away, their eyes still locked. After a moment, Hermione laid her head on his chest and spoke up again.

"Would you really have called me pretty at your brother's wedding?"

He rumbled with laughter. "I'd been working up to it that entire month. Just didn't want to lose my chance with him there, so I panicked and didn't say what I had really wanted to say."

"You never had to worry about him."

"I know that now, but back then, I didn't think I was enough. And for the record, you were the prettiest girl there."

"You can be very sweet. And for the record, I didn't want to dance with anyone other than you, Ron. You have always been more than enough."

"You know, that was one of my favourite memories, dancing with you at Bill's wedding. I thought about it a lot this past year."

She squeezed him tightly, trying to convey how much his words meant to her. She too had replayed those moments over and over in her head, trying to remember what it was like to be so close to him. Nothing beat the real thing.

"Do you know how badly I wanted to kiss you that day?"

She stayed firmly pressed to him as they continued their slow dance. "I was really hoping you would."

"I would've done it, if not for the interruption."

She looked up to find him staring down at her, an unmistakable look of love on his face.

"Nothing's stopping you now."

He grinned broadly and leaned forward, his breath mingling with hers for a second before their lips met.

Though the music had faded out, the two held each other on their impromptu dance floor, lost in one another.

At last.

#2020 hpromione discord secret santa #ron x hermione #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger

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c-rose2081 · 3 years

Text

Dragon Colds & Rose Petals

Love Like Dragons AU

Bevie | Huma (implied) | Gildry | Mal & Audrey BROTP

—

Evie Grimhilde was a happily married woman. She had been for nearly three months now, and it was marital bliss. But there was a small part of her that was still a lonely, single, Dragon mom. So when Ben walked in on her that day, struggling to keep the human thermometer in Mal’s mouth to take her temperature, he laughed.

Mal, her best friend and a five year old Isle Dragon, had been sick for the past two days. Evie wasn’t sure what brought it on, as Audrey - Ben’s Aurorian Dragon - didn’t seem to have anything. And of course that small, single, lonely dragon mom part of her reared it’s head. What if Mal was terminally ill? What if she died? What if Evie would wake up tomorrow and her best friend wouldn’t be there? It nearly sent her into hysterics. Coddling the cranky, tired spike menace was the only thing that could calm her.

Naturally, Mal hated it.

Ben, thankfully, was a level headed man, and he rescued poor Mal and quarantined her in another room. He then held Evie to his chest and quietly stroked her hair as she rattled off every possible dragon disease she found on the internet and their outcomes.

“I have a friend who’s a vet,” Ben told Evie when she had finally calmed down, holding her close as to keep her from spending the night with Mal - who was no doubt sleeping, “she comes and looks at Audrey every few months, I’m sure she’d be happy to give Mal a checkup,”

And so Evie agreed that a vet visit would be the best option, rather then trusting DragonMD. Of course, she wasn’t aware that Ben and this ‘vet’ were very close friends. Let alone that this ‘vet’ was a woman who he was apparently quite comfortable with. Uma was a pretty, muscly, dark skinned sort with long turquoise and white braids. She stood at least a head above Evie in height, and when she pictured a ‘vet’, Uma was quite far from what she was imagining.

“Uma!” Ben greeted with an open hug, “thanks for coming,”

“You’re lucky, Ben. I just got back into town,”

“Uma works in freight,” Ben explained to Evie, resting an arm around her waist as Uma pulled a rather large black duffle in behind her, “she travels a lot; it’s why you didn’t meet her at the wedding. Uma, this is my wife, Evie. I wrote to you about her,”

“Yeah; all good things thankfully. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Uma replied, Evie smiling in kind and taking her hand in a firm shake. The grip was incredibly strong, and the skin on her palms was callous, “Ben, I hope you don’t mind. But I brought Gil.”

“Who’s Gil?” Evie asked, brows popping up. She expected Gil to be a person, or perhaps a child. Having a large, horn-backed dragon wander in with a rose in his beak wasn’t what Evie expected at all. Like the day she had met Audrey, the girl yearned for her sketchbook, “oh my goodness,”

“I told you. Uma is great with dragons,” Ben laughed, “this is Gil,”

“My boyfriends dragon, actually,” Uma told Evie.

“I’ve never seen anything like him!” Evie exclaimed, jostling as ‘Gil’ nearly knocked her over when he came to bump the side of her leg with a wing.

“Sorry,” the sailor groaned, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the dragon by the back of the neck, “he’s really good with people, and gentle as they come. But he’s just so big,”

“What kind of dragon is he?” Evie asked, kneeling down to have a better look. Gil, unlike both Mal and Audrey, was built like a narrow turtle, and was armored like a tank. He had short legs with four toes each, and an articulated shell covering his nape, all the way down to his back legs. His tail was stubby, but sprouted four impressively long spikes, and his face was wide eye’d with a beak rather then a toothy maw. Gil’s wings, Evie noticed, folded inelegantly against the outside of his shell, a bit like messy accordion blinds. No doubt they were quite large in order to help such a bulky creature fly.

“Gil is a Coastal Dragon. They usually live out by the sea, in the sand,” Uma explained, heaving the creature to the side where he flopped to his belly unbothered, still holding the bright red flower in his beak, “Harry picked him up when he was traveling, and he’s been with us ever since. He’s a lazy beast,” Uma complained, tapping the creature’s shell with a boot, “doesn’t do jack-shit other then lay around all day,”

Evie couldn’t help but laugh at this, only to jump as Gil made a noise. It sounded almost like a tired, sad foghorn.

“He’s been crying like that all morning,”Uma drawled, “the minute he figured out I was coming here, he wouldn’t let me leave without him,”

“Why would he do that?” Evie asked, frowning slightly in confusion as Ben rubbed the back of his head and Uma glanced at him expectantly.

“Princess! Your boyfriend’s here!” Ben called out, his voice echoing through the tall vaulted ceiling of their house. Puzzled for a moment, Evie turned as Audrey’s birdsong reached her ear. It only took a second before the pink bullet - wings fully outstretched - glided into the room. Gil, who had previously been laying down, leapt up faster then Evie ever could’ve imagined for such a stocky beast. His accordion wings unfurled like a whip, and Uma tugged Evie backwards a step as he gave one powerful flap and was in the air.

“Sweet Merlin, he’s massive,” Evie breathed in wonder, watching as Gil captured Audrey in a mid-flight embrace, enfolding her between his arms and resting his large head on her crest, “are they...?”

“Together,” Ben confirmed with a nod, “it was a surprise to us to, once we figured it out,”

“Gil is romantic, the big lug,” Uma chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as Gil transferred the rose he’d been keeping to Audrey, who somehow managed to tuck it behind her ear flap in a very teenage-girl like manner, “he gets it from Harry, I think. Sorry about your rose bushes, Ben.” Uma admitted, grimacing slightly as Ben merely chuckled.

“It’s alright. The gardeners will take care of it,”

“Right then. So, you told me you had a sick dragon here?” Uma asked Evie, “and it’s clearly not Audrey,”

“My dragon, Mal, has been sick for a few days now,” Evie told the woman, returning to fretting over her best friend, “She’s really dull and tired, and even more cranky then usual,”

“Hm, that could be a number of things,” Uma pondered, heaving her black duffle up over one shoulder, “what breed is she?”

“An Isle Dragon. At least I think she is. I got the egg as a gift. Mom didn’t ever tell me where she got it from,”

“Well, let’s get to it then. I want out of here before Gil starts mimicking Audrey’s love songs,”

And so the trio left the foyer, heading upstairs into the large upper floor. Ben had made Mal her own special quarantine room. Audrey’s claw marks were all over the door’s painted exterior, showing where she’d been trying to get in earlier.

“I’ll have to talk to that girl,” Ben mumbled at reaching the door, ruffling his hair and groaning at the idea of having to fix the damage. Audrey wasn’t normally destructive, and Evie thought maybe she was coming down with something like Mal had. But Uma merely shook her head.

“It’s only natural,” she explained, opening the door and flicking on the light, “Audrey and Mal have probably already formed a family unit. It’s normal for one dragon to comfort another in times of pain or illness,”

“But Mal and Audrey quarrel constantly,” Evie complained, “they never get along,”

“Maybe so, but Dragons aren’t solitary in the wild. They build family units to survive. You did the right thing though, keeping Audrey out of here,” Uma admitted, kicking the door closed with a boot. Mal was laying in her basket, snoozing the day away unbothered by their entrance.

“I’m going to go call mom and dad,” Ben said to Evie quietly, “see if I can’t get someone down here to fix the door, and the bushes. You’ll be ok here with Uma?”

“Yeah. Love you,”

Sharing a quick kiss on the lips , Ben gave a half wave to Uma before skirting back out the door and vanishing.

“You two are good together,” Uma commented a little while later, removing a stethoscope from her bag and slinging it around her neck, “I was surprised when Ben said he was getting married,”

“Oh?”

Sinking down onto a low stool, Evie watched as Uma very carefully checked Mal’s heartbeat, “why do you say that?”

Uma switched the stethoscope for an ear tool as she began checking Mal’s ear holes.

“I dunno; it just never seemed like he could find the right fit. Hell, even we tried it out once,” Uma admitted with a laugh. This caused Evie’s stomach to drop like a rock. She didn’t mean for the green eye’d monster to make an appearance, but she couldn’t help it. After all, it had only been a few months, and she was nothing like Uma.

“Uh...why didn’t it work out? You and Ben?”

“Ah, we aren’t anything alike, really,” Uma said, satisfied with Mal’s ears and digging around in her bag for a moment, “I was always gone, you know? And of course Ben has his parents business to worry about. He needed someone who could keep up with him. Ah,” finding what she was looking for, Uma removed a small ‘T’ shaped device from the bag, “let’s just take the temperature,”

With a beep, Uma looked at the little digital screen and nodded. She put her tools away, removing a stuffed toy from inside her bag and tucking it under one of Mal’s fat arms.

“You, Evie, seem like just the right type for him,” Uma insisted with a sharp nod, rising from her place on the floor and wiping her hands on her jeans, “as for Mal, I suspect a cold is to blame for this. Where does she normally sleep?”

“Uh, up in the rafters above my bed. She used to sleep next to me, but I share a bed with Ben now. Audrey usually sleeps on her perch,”

“Ah. I suggest maybe installing a heat lamp up there, or building a nesting box. I think she’s getting to cold at night. Dragons are sensitive to that sort of thing,”

“I didn’t know,” Evie admitted, “thank you, Uma,”

“Anytime. I love Dragons, and Ben is still a great friend so I’ll help him out when I can. Anyway, Mal should be back to her normal self in a few days. Keep her warm and eating normally, and if anything changes, call me again and I’ll come back,”

“Can Audrey be allowed back in?” Evie asked, holding the door open for Uma to leave as the girl shook her head.

“No. Keep Mal in here and resting until she’s closer to her normal self. No need to risk Audrey catching whatever she has.”

“Ok. I can do that,” Evie nodded, following Uma back downstairs. Ben was standing in the yard out front, looking over the trampled rose bushes. Audrey and Gil were cuddled up within the broken branches, warm and content in a nest of prickly thorns and velvet petals.

“I think Gil might be more romantic then you, Ben,” Evie joked, looping her arm through her husbands as the man made an offended noise in his throat.

“So you want rose petals?” He asked, “I can do that,”

“Mhm, whatever you say,”

“So how’s Mal? Everything ok?”

“She’ll be just fine,” Uma restated, “Evie knows what needs to be done. As for you, Harry wants to get together at some point for a guys night.”

“Will do. I’ll call him and Jay when I have time,”

Bobbing her head in understanding, Uma gently prodded Gil with a toe through the nest, causing him to lift his head groggily.

“Alright, big fella. Kiss your girlfriend goodbye, we need to get going,”

Gil gave a sad little moan and Uma shook her head, “no complaints. I’m the captain here. Now kisses, and let’s go,”

Evie couldn’t help her little ‘awe’ as Gil reluctantly gave Audrey a little cheek nudge before standing and romping out of the bushes unhappily. Ben picked his own dragon up from the thorns, cradling her like a baby as she wailed dramatically.

“Do you cry like that every time I leave the house?” Evie asked as Uma hauled Gil into her Jeep, leaving poor Audrey heartbroken and hanging limply off Ben’s arm.

“No,” Ben insisted, using his free hand to grasp Evie’s as he gave it a squeeze, “I’m even worse.”

—

A/N: So...this is officially an AU! I’m calling it the Love Like Dragons AU. Basically Auradon is just a normal city (no prince and princesses, no pirates, ect.). Ben is the heir to his wealthy parents business rather then being a King. And the only ‘magical’ thing in Auradon is the dragons part of it. If you have any questions or suggestions for the AU, ping me :3

#descendants fanfiction #disney descendants #descendants #dragons #fanfiction #mal bertha #audrey rose #ben florian #evie grimhilde #uma daughter of ursula #alternate universe #love like dragons au

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