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pitch-pearl-void · 3 years

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Danny claims Phantom is his boyfriend to save him from his parents’ operation table, but Jack and Maddie won't make it that easy for them

Phantom passed out beneath the electrifying force of a ghost net, frightened and angry and hurt, so when he woke up, the howl that had been trapped in his chest burst free. He screamed, using all the power he could force through his vocal cords. His ghostly wail. Panicked shouting erupted. Someone yelled about a sedative. Phantom yelled louder, fear making him desperate.

If they knocked him out again before he had a chance to escape--

A warm body fell over him, chest to chest, core to heart. "Phantom, stop!"

The power Phantom had been channeling into his throat recoiled, cancelled itself out. His scream, absent of any real power, became that of a frightened teenager, and, embarrassingly, when he stopped screaming, it turned into a sob.

"It's okay," the human--Danny--said. He stroked warm fingers through Phantom's hair. "It's okay." Quieter then, whispered quickly into his ear, Danny added, "I have a plan."

Phantom's mind was too frazzled to make any sense of what that could mean, but if Danny was there...Phantom couldn't destroy whatever lab he was in without killing his friend in the process. Lashing out against the ones that had hurt him was no longer an option.

"Danny," Phantom gasped, his voice raw, slightly scratchy. Phantom turned his head until his cheek could press against Danny's, stealing a moment's guilty pleasure. To his surprise, Danny didn't pull away.

In fact, he pressed closer and turned his head toward Phantom in return. Phantom felt Danny's lips brush against his cheek, and he was so startled he almost missed those lips moving as Danny urgently whispered, "Play along."

Phantom pried his eyes open. "What?"

Jack appeared above them. Phantom tensed as the man's hardened eyes met his. Those dark blue eyes softened as they slid to his son, however. "Okay, Danny." Jack clamped a large hand over Danny's shoulder. "You made your point."

Danny slowly lifted himself off Phantom.

Phantom wanted to protest or at least wrap his arms around Danny to stop him--an impossible desire since there was something pinning his wrists to the examination table--but one look at Jack's wary face warned Phantom not to press his luck. Phantom reluctantly endured the loss of Danny's body heat and the comfort he had offered as a shield between Phantom and Danny's parents.

Before he could feel too abandoned, however, Danny's hand grabbed Phantom's and squeezed. Phantom fought against the urge to widen his eyes.

"Play along" Danny had said. Danny wanted Phantom to follow his lead, and right now, that apparently meant...holding hands.

To test that theory, Phantom spread his fingers apart. Danny's fingers slotted into the resulting gap and folded over the back of Phantom's hand. Phantom could feel his cheeks getting cold, and he desperately hoped he wasn't blushing in front of Danny's parents.

"So that's it?" Danny asked, his tone somehow conveying wariness and hope at the same time. "You'll let him go?"

Maddie sighed. Phantom heard her footsteps, and he turned his head to watch her approach. He couldn't see her eyes since, unlike Jack, she had pulled her hood up, but the straight, thin line of her lips gave Phantom the impression she was unhappy about something.

"With restrictions," she said. She pressed a button on the side of the table, and the force holding Phantom's wrists and ankles to the table vanished. He sat up quickly--too quickly for the ghost hunters because they flinched back--and scooted closer to Danny, holding tight to the human's hand. The hunters watched him, waiting, but when Phantom didn't move any farther or try to fly away, they exchanged frowns with each other.

"Restrictions?" Danny asked.

In answer, Maddie held out a metal bracelet. Like the Fenton Thermos, the seems along the metal sheet were green, filled with ectoplasm that ran along the circular design. "To suppress his powers."

Phantom wrinkled his nose and glared at the device. Why she was handing it to Danny instead of clamping it over Phantom's wrist herself, prior to letting him go, Phantom didn't understand, but if they were expecting Danny to put that on him, they were in for a surprise.

Indeed, Danny accepted the device but didn't clamp it to Phantom's wrist. "Can we go now?" he asked.

Maddie's lips pressed even tighter together.

Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll be talking about this more in the morning, young man."

"Right." Danny stepped away from the table and tugged on Phantom's arm, urging him to follow. "Looking forward to it."

Phantom didn't trust his legs to support him, so, even though the ghost hunters were watching him with narrowed eyes and frowning lips, Phantom levitated off the table and floated after Danny. Danny was walking fast, faster than Phantom could fly at the moment, but Phantom had no complaints about the speed even though Danny was dragging him through the air. He glanced warily behind them. Jack and Maddie were still watching them...but they weren't following and they hadn't pulled out an antighost device.

Danny trotted up the stairs, cutting off Phantom's view.

Just as well, Phantom thought, shivering.

That he had woken up in one piece after the hunters who swore to tear him apart had finally captured him was surprise enough, but that they were letting him go? And in their son's company? With no supervision?

They were halfway through the living room when the question finally burst free of Phantom's control. "What did you tell them?"

Danny glanced at him over his shoulder, met Phantom's eyes, before jerking his head back around. His pace didn't slow. "I, uh...Once we get to my room. I can fill you in then."

Although Phantom could no longer see Danny's face, the back of the human's neck and the tips of his ears had darkened to a suspicious pink color.

He's blushing, Phantom realized. He glanced down at their still clasped hands and felt his own blush, much colder and greener than the human variety, flood his cheeks.

He stopped floating after Danny but didn't let go of his hand, forcing Danny to jerk to a halt. "Danny..." he said, voice low, "what did you tell them?"

Danny hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. Phantom floated around to his front, but Danny turned his head away. "I...they, uh, they were going to experiment on you, and I, um, I might have panicked. A little."

"Okay..." Phantom urged, speaking gently, "I'm not ungrateful, Danny. You probably saved my life! Well, afterlife. But how did you convince them to stop? They've been threatening to tear me apart pretty much since I arrived in your dimension."

Danny glanced at Phantom from the corner of his eye. "Promise you uh..." Danny winced and pinched his eyes closed. "Promise you won't get mad?"

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I promise."

Danny breathed in deeply. "Itoldthemweweredating."

As garbled as the words were, Phantom heard the last one all-too clearly. His levitation cancelled out and he dropped to the floor. As he had expected, his legs collapsed under him and he fell forward, into Danny. Danny let go of Phantom's hand and wrapped his arms around Phantom's shoulders, supporting him as Phantom clung to his shirt.

"D-dating?" Phantom gasped. "We're dating?"

Had he missed something? Wasn't there a...process? He was sure kissing would have been involved at some point. A confession of feelings at the very least.

"No!" Danny said hurriedly. "Well...uh, kind of? My parents think we are so we have to pretend, but...it's just pretend. Don't freak out!"

"Oh." Did he sound too disappointed? Hopefully all Danny heard was his confusion and not Phantom's rising hope shattering on the floor. He shifted his feet, eager to pull away from Danny, but his legs weren't as steady as he would like. He managed to stand on his own only by virtue of holding onto Danny's shirt. "And they were okay with that?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. He started to pull his arms away, stopped, and settled them around Phantom's shoulders again as a loose hug.

Phantom felt a swooping sensation in his stomach.

"Not so much 'okay' as..." Danny bit his lip as he thought, trying to put Jack's and Maddie's reactions into words. "I don't know...They're letting me get away with it, but I think they might be testing us."

"Testing us?"

Danny removed one arm from his loose embrace and held up the cuff Maddie had given him between them. Phantom flinched back, almost pulling out of Danny's hug.

Almost.

Danny glared at the device, as distrustful as Phantom. "If you're still here tomorrow morning, with this suppressing your powers, then they'll know we're serious about being in a relationship. If you're not...they'll start hunting you again. And...I'm not sure I could stop them a second time."

Phantom shivered. He had been strapped to their examination table once already. If Danny hadn't been there...he didn't want to think about it. "Without my powers," he said slowly, "I will be helpless. I will have to trust you to keep me safe and them to keep their word."

Danny nodded unhappily.

Phantom eyed the device.

On one hand, he didn't trust the Fenton adults. They had never shown him an ounce of kindness or understanding. They had been willing to electrocute him into unconsciousness and strap him to a table without any consideration for him as a person. Who knew what else they had planned to do with him once he was in their clutches.

On the other hand...he wanted to earn their respect. He wanted to work with them to protect the town from ghosts, he wanted their help understanding his own powers, he wanted to no longer fear them. The cuff and Danny's offer represented a chance wherein things could get better if he just had the courage.

And...fake though it would be, the idea of dating Danny even for the sake of his safety appealed to him greatly. Just holding his hand had made Phantom's soul soar. What more would Danny allow to maintain the illusion of a relationship?

Cuddling?

Kissing?

Phantom's cheeks frosted and he quickly pushed the thought aside. Danny was only doing it to protect him. Phantom didn't want to take advantage of Danny's kindness, no matter how tempting. Bad enough he would be going into the fake relationship with secret feelings for Danny, he didn't need to make things worse for Danny by asking for a kiss in front of his parents.

Even if Phantom's daydreams of such a thing were deeply thrilling...

He couldn't pass up this chance. A chance to prove himself to the ghost hunters and date their son? At the same time? He had to take it. It was everything he wanted, what he had dreamed about every time he flew past Fenton Works.

Phantom sighed and reached for the cuff.

Instead of handing it to him, Danny jerked it closer to his chest, his eyes wide. "Phantom?"

"The benefits outweigh the risks, don't you think?" Phantom whispered. "I can't pass up this chance." Instead of reaching for the cuff again, Phantom turned his hand over, holding out his palm. "Just keep me safe. I trust you."

Danny searched his expression, but Phantom's resolve was strong, held in place as much by his attraction to Danny as by his desire to be accepted by the Fentons. Danny's shoulders slumped. Reluctantly, he placed the cuff in Phantom's hand.

"If anything happens to you because of this--" Danny began, only to cut himself off. He grimaced. "Phantom..."

Phantom glanced up from the cuff and smiled reassuringly at Danny. "I'll be fine. Just watch, by this time next week, you will actually be in love with me and your parents will declare me part of the family!"

Before Danny had a chance to respond, Phantom snapped the cuff shut.

Pain exploded inside him. He screamed, falling to his knees. Danny dropped to the floor beside him, calling his name. He held onto Phantom's arms and stared anxiously at his face, beautiful blue eyes wide and frightened.

"I'm fine," Phantom gasped, staring into those eyes. "I'm fine. It's just. Rebound. I was. I was healing myself. The energy I was using started burning. But I'm fine. I'm fine."

So long as he didn't use his powers.

Apparently, the cuff didn't so much suppress his powers as make using them painful. That was good, because if his or Danny's life was ever truly in danger, Phantom could still save them.

It was bad because...it felt a little like a shock collar.

Phantom cringed. Shivered.

Before he could say anything else, Danny wrapped his arms around Phantom's neck and hugged him tight. Phantom froze for a moment, stunned. Danny had never hugged him before. Not like that.

We're supposed to be dating, he reminded himself. Hugging is part of the package.

Phantom's stomach swooped again. He slipped his own arms around Danny's waist before Danny could get any ideas about pulling away too soon and returned the tight embrace, turning his head so he could press his face against Danny's neck. It was a little awkward, what with the way they were both sitting on their knees, forced to lean forward to maintain the hug, but Phantom didn't think he could convince Danny to climb onto his lap just yet.

For that matter, if Phantom tried climbing onto Danny's, the human might squeak and retreat in a flustered panic.

"You sure you're okay?" Danny whispered.

"Yes." Phantom felt Danny shiver in his arms, likely due to Phantom's speaking the word against his neck, but Phantom couldn't bear to leave the warmth of his embrace yet. "I'll tell you more once you get to your room." He hesitated. "I can't heal or use more powers anymore, though. Can you..."

"Carry you?"

"Yes."

"Yeah." Danny broke the embrace but didn't go far. He shifted around Phantom until he was pressed against his side, one arm wrapping around his shoulders. "Lean back," he instructed. "I have to get your legs."

Phantom leaned backward, delighted to feel Danny's arm catching him, holding him. He untucked his legs from under himself, and as soon as his knees were in position, Danny slid his arm under them.

"Ready?" Danny asked.

Phantom nodded.

It was strange to be lifted by someone else rather than by his own powers, but as Phantom found himself cradled in Danny's arms, held securely against his chest, he couldn't resist smiling. He had wondered what it would feel like.

Danny climbed to his feet--an unsteady movement that prompted Phantom to wrap an arm around Danny's neck--and looked toward the staircase. "This might get a little awkward," he warned.

Phantom laid his head on Danny's shoulder and let out a quiet breath. "Yeah," he agreed. The staircase was narrow, but Phantom suspected Danny's strength was about to be tested as well. "Take your time. No hurry here."

Danny snorted. "Right. You just rest, I'll do all the hard work."

"For once."

Danny laughed. "Who just saved your life?"

"My boyfriend."

Danny cleared his throat, a blush coloring his cheeks again. “Yeah. Right. I’ll just…” He walked toward the staircase, his eyes carefully avoiding Phantom’s. “I guess I should...get used to to being called that.” His blush worsened. “Your boyfriend. Oh man…”

“It was your idea,” Phantom reminded him mercilessly. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his smile from looking too besotted. He suspected he would regret the ruse later, once his feelings felt thoroughly played, but for now it was enough to feel Danny’s arms around him as he carried him up the stairs, safe and with the potential of turning the Fentons from enemies to allies within reach.

#Phantom and Danny as different people #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #pitch pearl #pitchpearl #fake date au

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.

WARNINGS: Mentions of [lots of] blood, use of the 'f' word literally ONCE, uhh, I think that's it?

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

El sits on the floor of Mike's basement, back to the couch. Candy wrappers and crumbs were scattered around a finished puzzle of a beautiful green forest. The strange plastic ship, floating in the air in front of her. It suddenly drops to the ground as her attention is brought to the Supercomm on the couch. She picks up the device and clicks it on, bored with the static that comes from the other end, she soon abandons the device and stands up.

She walks up the steps, eager to explore the house more. When she reaches the top of the steps, she cautiously peeks around the corner. When she decides no one is home and the coast is clear, she continues to explore the house.

With the house to herself, she had more time to linger, and appreciate and explore. It was fascinating to her, and yet it made her sad. Could she have had a life like this? She didn't know what to think when she admired every object, every picture on the wall. There was one in particular that caught her eye.

It was a small photograph, but you could tell it was important. It was another picture of Mike and his friends. Only, they were younger. They were playing and splashing around in the water, a lake it looked like, surrounded by beautiful green trees. Each of them had an arm wrapped around each other forming a line, and their pants were rolled up to their knees.

The young boy on the very left had messy black hair, who El immediately recognized as Mike. He was smiling brightly at her from the picture. A young Lucas to his right, who wore a rather proud grin. Dustin was looking at the two, more specifically Lucas; he had been laughing when the photo was taken.

Will, she believed his name was, had one scrawny arm draped loosely around Dustin, however, he had his full attention on a very cheery looking Y/n who stood proudly showing off a very small frog to the camera. He had daisies on his head, tangled in his hair, and a gleaming smile showed off a missing tooth. He was holding the frog so delicately.

But it wasn't Y/n, or even Mike that caught her eye. It was the way Will was looking at Y/n. His eyes held a certain fondness and appreciation, his smile warm and genuine. El tilted her head ever so slightly, thinking. Something deep inside her was gnawing at her, a feeling that was foreign to her. Shaking her head, she moved on to the rest of the living room.

She went back to the funny chair Mike had shown her and took a seat. She reached over and pulled on the lever, sending her back and forth as it kicked her feet out. She looked around curiously as the chair rocked her back and forth.

El noticed the weird device on the table beside her and picked it up. It was a strange curved thing attached by a curly wire. It had many buttons, every one of them had a number on them. It let out a strange noise, barely audible from the top. She brought it up to her ear to listen to the endless monotone hum. Not knowing what else to do she mimicked the tone, just for fun before putting it back.

She stood up from the chair and sat herself down on her knees in front of the TV. Curious, she ran her fingers down the side until she felt the button and pressed it. A brief crackle of static rang out and as soon as it came on it was replaced with the voice of an older man, the screen lit up in front of her.

"...was occupying a large part of Lebanon. Today, Syria has become a home for-"

Click.

El pressed another button.

The moving picture on the screen changed, where many bright flashes of color dance across the screen. A fake man with yellow hair held a sword as he exclaimed.

"I have the power!"

Click.

"...gift that will last forever. From the Harmony Treasures' collection-"

Click.

A beautiful melody came from the TV set and El's eyes widened in surprise.

Click.

"On the beach and in the sun"

El froze. She recognized the rolling tin can that appeared on the TV. Her breathing began to quicken as she fought the memories back.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

The all too familiar humming and beeping of the machines echoed off of the cold, isolating walls. Eleven sat at the same table, with the same camera facing the same window with the same adults who watch her and study her. Nothing was new, and she feared nothing ever would be. All she wants is to go this over with. Wanting to get the damn wires off of her head.

Yet, she sat still, compliant, unmoving. Never taking her eyes off of Papa as she watched him hand the clipboard to one of the men and give her a nod of his head. She turned her head and attention to the small Coke drink. Her eyes bore into the empty can and she concentrated.

Her head shook ever so slightly as she focused, straining. It was difficult, but she was able to do it. The can caved into itself with a loud 'crack' and it wasn't until the monitors stopped did she realize how loud they had been. She looked back to Papa, looking for his approval.

He stood unmoving, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. She felt her nose run damp, a warm liquid oozed from her nose. She blinked, confused and slowly brought her hand up to her upper lip, realizing she was bleeding. She looked to Papa, expectantly. He only smiled a cold empty grin.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Coke is it! Coke is it!"

El quickly pushed the first button, shutting the TV off. Breathing heavily, she stood up and made her way to the basement.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

My back was beginning to hurt from hunching over for so long, but nevertheless, I continued looking. Lucas needs ammo for his wrist rocket, so naturally, the four of us were currently scouring the schoolyard for rocks.

"How about this one?" Mike asks, walking up to Dustin.

Dustin examines the rock Mike handed to him.

"Too big for the sling." He shrugs, tossing the rock to the grass. "So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo." Lucas says as he searches for that.

"You don't know that," I mumble, Lucas, however, doesn't hear me.

"Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos." Mike adds.

Lucas turns to Mike, agitated. "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?"

I roll my eyes, and straighten up, stretching out my back.

"What are you talking about?" Mike sighs.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

"You look at her all, like... 'Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much!'" Lucas teases, grabbing Mike in for a hug before getting down on one knee. "'Would you marry me?' I'm telling you, man, you're just as bad as Will!" He stood back up when he said the last-

'Wait...What?'

"What?" I asked, completely thrown off.

The boys freeze, Lucas especially. Lucas excluded, the boys all look at me with awkward smiles on their faces. Dustin chuckles and gives a still frozen Lucas a few pats on the arm.

"Good job, man. Real smooth."

"Guys, what is going on?" I asked exasperated, crossing my arms.

"Shit," Lucas whispers, closing his eyes.

"Lucas..."

Mike wears a triumphant grin on his face and looks expectantly at Lucas.

"Yeah, Lucas. Tell him."

Lucas sighs, and stiffly turns around, his change of attitude dramatic. He looks around once or twice before growing stern with me.

"You, and Will?" He suggests.

"What about us? What does that have to do with- Oh come on... You can't be serious. He does not like me."

"Literally everyone knows he is totally in love with you." He scoffs.

I scoff in return. "Love? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Am I wrong?" He turns to the boys, who hesitantly shrug.

He turns back to me, a look screaming 'There you have it.'

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

"W-What? W-what ar- No!" My words are caught in my throat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

'No, I don't!'

It takes moments for me to recover. "Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say he does love me. How can you know for sure, huh? It's not like he told you!"

"Uhh, yeah! Might as well have. He didn't deny it!"

My heart stops, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

'Will? And me?'

"Look what we have here!"

'Oh, God. Not now.'

I roll my eyes and before I can stop myself I speak. "What do you want, Troll?"

My eyes widen at my sudden boldness but I remain confident. I stare down the two boys who have been bullying us for as long as we've attended this school.

"You better watch your mouth, freak-"

"Back off!" Dustin yells, cutting him off.

Troy looks over to Dustin, looking prepared to throw more insults at my brother but something changes his mind and he cools off. A smug smile tugs at his lips.

"Or what?" Troy spits.

Dustin falls silent, and Troy continues.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What are you losers doing back here anyway?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." Troy's goon laughs.

Anger begins to take over and my blood starts to boil.

"That's not funny. It's serious. He's in danger." Dustin immediately cuts in.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says."

'Where's that damn rock?'

"He said he was probably killed by some other queer."

I feel a lurch in my chest, and I can practically feel my vision going red.

"Come on. Just ignore them." Mike soothes, not only to me but to Dustin and Lucas as well.

He's right. I need to get out of here. I storm off, ready to shove him in the shoulder as I pass but suddenly I feel something catch my foot and I fall to the ground. A sudden wave of searing pain explodes on my chin when I hit the ground.

Dazed and confused, I push myself up enough to see a large, rather bloody rock just inches from my face.

I groan, rolling over on my back, I hear laughing and frantic footsteps.

"Y/n!" Dustin and Mike run over to me, Lucas storms up to Troy.

Dustin and Mike each grab an arm and help me sit up. I hesitantly bring a hand up to my chin and I hiss in pain. I look at my fingers and they are absolutely covered in blood.

'Holy crap.'

I groan and look to Lucas worried. He stands firm and tall, right up in Troy's face.

"Leave us. The fuck. Alone." He says through clenched teeth.

My eyes triple in size, surprised by Lucas's actions.

Troy and his friend laugh and walk away. Repeating Lucas in a mocking voice.

"You okay Y/n?" He reaches out his hand.

I gladly take it. However, I get a little lightheaded as I stand. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

I look down and I see splots of blood already sprinkling my shirt.

'Great. This will be easy to explain to mom.'

"You still have that first aid kit?"

I close my eyes, sighing.

"Crap. No. I left it at Mike's." I sigh.

"We better get you to the nurse's office then."

"No, I-I'm fine." I sigh, wincing at the pain.

"Are you sure? You're bleeding, like a lot." Mike says.

"Yeah, I'm good. As long as I stop the bleeding, I'll be fine.. My body has always been able to heal quicker than most, anyways."

"He's right. I've seen it."

I offer a small smile. "Well, I at least better go get a tissue or something. I'll be right back." I say.

The boys nod, and I head off to the bathroom. My mind wanders back to what Lucas was telling me earlier, and the weird feeling in my stomach returns...

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #stranger things x reader #x m!reader #m!reader #x male!reader #holly jolly

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theshiningg · 4 years

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you don’t love me the way you love her

hogwarts au

fluffy, a pinch of angst

draco x slytherin!reader

warnings: none that i could think of

word count: 7.1k (my longest ever lol)

you stare at the obnoxious faces your best friend makes at you as you stare at him across the dance hall. mcgonagall was teaching dance lessons prior to the yule ball and he was currently laughing at ronald weasley and the professor.

it was time to get partners and practice and you stare at draco from afar as he walks toward you. “hey y/n!” he speaks as he stands right in front of you. “care to dance?” draco lifts an eyebrow and you let out a small lighthearted gasp, “draco malfoy asking me, to dance?” you joke around as he wraps his arms around your waist. slightly embarrassed about the actions of your best friend, your ears and cheeks blush a light pink. you’d hate to admit it but, you were in love with your best friend.

later in the day at dinner, your eyes unconsciously drift over to draco, who was also unconsciously staring at a girl at the slytherin table, astoria greengrass. pansy lightly taps you on the shoulder to snap you out of your trance. “hey y/n, can i borrow your notes for potions? i skipped yesterday and now i’m a day behind.” you smile and nod at your friend before taking out your parchment of notes. “just give it back to in the dorm.” glancing at draco one more time, you turn to leave, walking to the lake to finish your book.

falling snowflakes land on your hair as you weave your way through the blankets of snow and under a tree. the crunch of footsteps quietly followed you as you feel a coat on top of your shoulders and turn around to see draco. he sits next to you, not too close but not too far, “can i ask you something?” you let out a hum of acknowledgement, “what do girls like?” taken a bit back, your eyes dart to his grinning face, “well,” you slightly laugh, “we appreciate even the smallest gestures, not too many gifts. for skinship, it honestly depends on the girl.” as you continue to talk, draco stares at you intentively nodding his head every once in a while. he stands up abruptly before extending his hand out to you. grabbing his hand, you stand up and give him a small smile. the both of you walk in silence to the castle until draco stops and stares at you, “y/n,” he pauses as a tiny grin appears on his face, “i think i’m gonna do it.” you lift your eyebrow at him and smile back at him, “do what?” he smiles to himself, “i’m going to confess.” your shoulders shrug down and his coat slips off, hitting the icy floor. his expression changes to a worried expression as he walks over to you, “are you alright?” he places his hand on your shoulder after picking up his coat, “yeah.” you barely whisper as you push his hand off your shoulder, “whoever she is, she’ll be lucky to have you. sorry, i’m a little out of it but i have rounds tonight so, i’ll see you later,” you speak before walking away.

the next day, you sit at breakfast with draco. he stares over at you while you try to teach pansy the lesson she missed the other day. “pansy, you have to grind up the occupy eggshell, not just crack it.” pansy whines at you, “y/n, please, no more,” you shake your head to your best friend, “then you shouldn’t have taken advanced potions,” you taunt. she quiets down and pulls you close to her, “how are you feeling?” your eyes look around the great hall before turning back to pansy, “i’m fine. honestly, plus, last night during my rounds, i caught the weasley twins out of bed after curfew and, they gave me a coupon for anything out of their box of mischief for their freedom.” pansy’s face twists up in disgust, “you’re too easily persuaded.”

you sit in potions, reading the instructions for your next potion to be made, a drought of peace. the classroom was quiet with only you and professor slughorn. “ah miss l/n,” he speaks up enthusiastically before quieting down, “what’s wrong?” you shake your head with a smile, “nothing.” your conversation quickly gets interrupted as draco and the rest of your friends enter the classroom, loudly. draco walks up to you instead of going to seat and drags his hands throughout your hair while standing behind you, “why’re you here so early?” you continue to read your book, “i’m getting ready for class.” he walks over to the front of your desk and stares you, “you’re upset.” you finally look up at him, “i’m not, i just like to be prepared for class.” draco rolls his eyes before leaning closely to your ear, “we’re not done with this conversation,” he trudges back to his seat annoyed.

the class starts with professor slughorn introducing the potion you read about earlier and pansy groans as he releases the class to grab their materials and begin their potion making. you tell pansy to grab the materials while you go grab the cauldron and potion glass. pansy sits in her seat while you stir the potion, “pansy did you bring the porcupine quills?” she shrugs, “well continue to stir while i go get it then,” she nods her head and grabs the rod from you as you go to the ingredients cabinet. unluckily, on the way there, you were a bit distracted so you bump into another student with their unfinished potion in their grasp that spills on your hand during the collision, burning it a little bit in the process. the glass ends up the floor broken and you bend down to pick up the pieces of the glass while the girl freaks out. you get pulled away from the glass by draco, “what’re you doing, y/n?” draco says as he begins to freak out a bit as well, “picking up the glass,” you answer dumbfound at everyone’s concern before looking down at your slightly burnt and bleeding hand. professor slughorn quietly cleans up the mess, “miss l/n, i think its best if you go madam pomfrey to have your hand checked out.” the girl walks up to you, “y/n, i’m so sorry.” she apologizes scared about how you were going to react, “its alright, don’t worry about it,” before walking off to the direction of the hospital wing.

as you arrive, madam pomfrey instructs you to wait on the bed while she gets bandages and medication for your hands. while you get treated, draco walks in the wing with your books and robes which you took off when you started your potion. madam pomfrey treats your arm and you finally leave with draco to dinner. on the walk to the hall, astoria pops out from behind a pillar, surprising you and draco. “draco, i have to tell you something,” she then turns toward you, “sorry about your arm, y/n. i heard what happened.” shaking your head, you reply, “don’t worry about it, it didn’t hurt that much,” before walking a good distance and turning around to give draco a reassuring smile about his confession. you start to walk down the long, lonely hallways, you’re not gonna lie to yourself, but you saw the way they looked at each other, specifically draco. you noticed the way he would smile to himself whenever she walked by at any meal time or the way he always unconsciously mentioned her in his stories when he had parties at his manor. making it to the great hall, you sit next to pansy, quietly. “where’s draco?” you let out a soft sigh, “he’s with astoria.” pansy leans closer to you, “are you okay?” you nod and reply, “yeah, my arm doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” she glances over at you sympathetically, “i don’t mean your arm, y/n.” you turn to face her with sad eyes, “i know.”

before you could continue with your conversation with the rest of your friend’s, you notice draco and astoria entering the hall, hands intertwined. you immediately turn your head back to look down at your palms on your lap before realizing tiny droplets of water were falling. bringing your head back up to look at the ceiling, you realize that the ceiling had been bewitched and turn your head towards the two most mischievous pranksters in the school, the weasley twins. george looks at you before giving you a noticeable wink and running out of the doors to pretend that he had no part in this prank. a smile lights itself up on your face as pansy drags you out of the hall with her, completely soaked. again, after exiting the hall, you match eyes with a weasley twin, this time being fred. he gives you the signal of zipping his lips up and throwing the key, in which you respond with a small smile and the nod of your head. draco and astoria both walk up to your friend group, “what the bloody hell? who would enchant the sky?” you stare at astoria’s wet state and shrug, “what a coincidence?” draco tries hard to look you in the eye, but avoids eye contact when you stare at him.

as you walk back to your dorm with pansy, she begins to complain about astoria, “ugh, she’s so annoying? do you understand what i’m saying?” you nod in confirmation for your friend, “just because she’s dating draco now, doesn’t give her the right to act all powerful and mighty because their families are probably the most powerful and influential in the whole wizarding world!” pansy’s rant goes in through one of your ears and out the other as you just continue to nod and pretend to acknowledge her annoyance. “uh, pansy. i’m have to get something from potions, i left my,” your eyes search the hallway for an item before landing on an owl, “my quill. draco forgot to bring it for me, so i’ll meet you in the room in thirty minutes.” she gives you an okay before continuing her rant with blaise.

your breath unveils itself in the frosty breeze as you walk back to the same tree as the night before. sitting yourself down, you let out a large sigh before getting interrupted by a clearing of a throat. “fred, george. pleasant evening?” they both give you their signature smirks, “indeed.” george sits down first with fred following next, “i suppose you want the coupon back? for the prank, i mean.” they both shake their heads in sync, “of course not,” fred replies, “that one was for free,” george adds on. you slightly chuckle at their response and they stare over at you, “well, we better get going,” george speaks up after several seconds of silence, “a specific blond is looking for you,” fred speaks after his brother as the both of them stand up and walk towards the castle. as they leave, the crunching of incoming footsteps disturb the silence, “y/n, didn’t i tell you to bring a jacket whenever you leave the castle?” a small smile makes its way to your face, “of course, your majesty,” you taunt as a pout appears on his face. “what were you talking about with the weasel twins,” you roll your eyes, “weasley twins,” you enunciate, “and we were just talking about the coincidental raining sky at dinner.” draco takes off one of many layers of coats and drapes it around your shoulders, “can’t have you catching a cold, miss beater.” with the recent events occurring in your life, you totally forgot about the quidditch match you had on saturday. “oh my god, i totally forgot.” draco gives you a deep chuckle, “well don’t forget that we have practice tomorrow, or else flint is going to murder you.” you nod at his caring yet sarcastic sentence, “alright, i’ll see you tomorrow morning, astoria is waiting for me in the hall, didn’t want her getting cold,” he speaks before using his knuckle to rummage up your hair. your head turns toward his receding figure and then back at his coat. you think to yourself, “if you turn around and wave like you always do, i won’t give you up, but if you don’t, i’ll back down.” draco continues on his way until he becomes a tiny figure in the distance and you begin to give up on hope until you hear, “see you tomorrow loser!” followed by a tiny wave from the faraway boy. a tiny smile makes it to your face, “i’m sorry astoria, but i can’t give up right now.”

about two days later, you snuggle closer into your blanket, you get awoken by the abrupt flash of light in the room. your eyes barely open because of its sensitivity of the light. pansy stands by the door in her quidditch gear and stares at you, “you have ten minutes to get ready and be at the pitch, you know how flint is about being late.” after she exits the room, you sit up in bed and let out a yawn while walking over to get changed and refreshed.

by the time you reach the pitch, your teammates are already in the air taking laps while marcus flint stands at the entrance of the pitch. “why’re you late?” he asks with a stone cold expression, waiting for your answer. but before you could even open your mouth, he shouts at you, “ten laps around the pitch, running! go!” annoyed you start to jog. draco flies low to be right beside you, “how’s it going?” he teases with a grin, “buzz off malfoy.” draco brings one hand to chest, acting offended, “using last names now are we?” you give him a glare and start to jog faster, which he follows with flying a bit faster on his broom. you act annoyed but really, feel warm on the inside until a melodic voice interrupts. “draco! over here!” she shouts from a far. it was about six in the morning and all of the team quickly turns their head to the voice of astoria. you raise your eyebrow at draco, “your princess is waiting, go.” he gives you a small smirk and a nudge before flying over to her. as you finish up your final lap, you wipe the cold sweat off your forehead, mind you, its still winter and snowy. you get on your broom and fly up into the air, finally joining the practice.

you enter breakfast with the biggest yawn and frown about the excruciating practice. your thoughts get interrupted as you see your taken seat. the seat you sat in since first year, the seat you’ve eaten in for five years, the seat next to draco malfoy. pansy pats the seat next to her and as you begin to walk towards her, you get pulled towards the gryffindor table before being sat down next to hermione. your face slightly gives off panic before turning towards the people who sat you down, “morning hermione,” you say before turning to harry and ron, giving them a nod of your head, then turning back towards fred and george. “weasleys, did you need something?” you ask them, “am i even allowed to sit here? i obviously stand out.” the dark green of your uniform definitely sticking out in the sea of a vibrant red, “of course buddy-o.” most of the gryffindors at the table now staring at you before hermione rolls her eyes, “everyone mind your own business.” hermione gives you a small, polite smile to look over the fact that you were best friends with their own personal annoyance. “thank you hermione.” you whisper, giving her a small smile. harry glances down at your hand, “is it alright?” he asks as you look up from your plate of breakfast, “yeah, its been healing, minor burns,” you answer, thankful for his attempt to start up conversation.

while keeping a small conversation with the trio, your arm gets grabbed and pulled. “y/n, what are you doing associating with the enemy?” you scoff, “we’re just talking, draco,” he scoffs back at you before releasing your arm, “never thought you could betray your own house.” your eyes widen and narrow down to glare at him, “well maybe if you didn’t give my seat away, i would have room to sit at slytherin.” draco lets out huffs of annoyance, “there were plenty of seats, y/n. just look at anywhere on the table.” you also let out a sigh, “i would’ve had to sit by myself.” the whole hall stares at your confrontation with your best friend, “well y/n, here’s the truth, maybe nobody wants to sit next to you in the first place and-“ he gets cut off from the rest of the sentence by a slap to the face. his grimace softens as he realizes his words, “y/n, you know. i didn’t mean that.” your eyes fill up annoyance as you walk away. pansy stands up quickly and walks off to follow you, but before she fully leaves the hall, she turns towards draco, “you’re a love blinded idiot.”

instead of getting emotional, you just sit in silence, induced by your anger, next to the lake. pansy left you to grab your books from the hall, leaving you in the silence of nature. once again, the crunching of familiar footprints fill the air. “y/n. you know i didn’t mean any of that but i was just jealous, i guess. just seeing you with friends other than our little group made me jealous. just wanted to come and apologize. i am sorry, y/n l/n.” you stay silent for a few seconds before replying, “its fine. thank you for apologizing. i forgive you, i’m just a little embarrassed and hugely annoyed.” you let out a tiny chuckle, “you have to do something for me now, as compensation for your childish behavior,” he continues to stare at you, scared of what you could say, “you have to do my astronomy homework for a month.” you stretch your hand out, in which he responds to by shaking it. you stand up, “come on, we have history of magic to get to.” you finally look at his face, red by the slap mark you left on it, and try not to laugh, “sorry about the slap,” you say after suppressing your laughter, “its fine, i probably deserved it.” you nod your head in agreement, “i’d say so.”

during dinner, you sit next to pansy, giving draco a wink of access for astoria to sit in your seat. you listen to pansy while you platter on whatever was served at dinner on your plate and wait for dumblebore to finish speaking about the daily news. astoria gives draco a smile while using her fork to scatter around the food she didn’t want to eat. when she finishes eating, she glances over at your plate before finding a comment to say. “y/n,” you turn your attention away from pansy, along with draco and blaise, “are you really going to eat all of that?” you put a fake smile on your face and pretend to think, “hm, i think i am going to.” her smile turns into a snide look, “i just didn’t expect a girl of your stature to eat that much.” you widen your eyes at draco asking for help while laughs your encounter with the older girl, “i have a high metabolism?” she laughs softly, “i can see that judging by the fact that you’re not overweight after eating all of that food.” you give her a small smile before turning back to pansy. in all honesty, you couldn’t tell if the girl was being nice or extremely sarcastic.

the next day was saturday, meaning, game day. sitting at the slytherin table, you pick up an apple and bite into it, in replacement for the hefty meal yesterday night. the hall is mostly quiet besides the tiny murmurs of conversation amongst the few students there early, most probably sleeping in until the game. while you eat your apple, you spot the entrance of the weasley twins. george passes you a wink while fred gives you a slight smirk before they start stalking towards you, “morning,” you pass them a small smile, “morning weasleys,” the both of them give you a pat on the back, “this is for when gryffindor beats slytherin in todays match,” your eyes widen and you scoff at their bluntness, “i’ll make sure to return it when slytherin wins.” fred shakes his head while george speaks, “that won’t be necessary,” and before you could give one last remark, the both of them walk away to go eat breakfast. next, you saw astoria enter with her friends and not draco. you turn to pansy and whisper, “wheres draco?” she looks up to see astoria by herself, “maybe he’s sleeping in?” astoria sits down in her usual seat next to her friends and you walk over to her, “where’s draco?” she shrugs and continues her conversation with her friends. you walk back to pansy and grab your coat, “i’m going to go check on draco, maybe he did sleep in.” walking to the dungeons, you begin to worry about the boy.

entering his dark room, you squint your eyes to look for him on his bed, and to your prevail, you find him. you tiptoe into his room and quietly whisper, “draco,” he continues to stir in his sleep. you then slightly open the blinds, letting in a tiny bit of daylight to illuminate the boy’s face. you sit yourself on his bed and feel the warmth from his covered up body. he opens his eyes in alarm at the intruder, but relaxes when he realizes it was just you. you stare down at your best friend, “are you gonna come to breakfast?” he immaturely shakes his head no and buries it within his blanket. draco then grabs your hand and brings it to his forehead, “don’t tell me you’re sick.” he gives you an unamused look, “its all because of you.” your eyes widen and you let a tiny laugh, “me? you’re the one that came out last night when you were wet.” draco lets out a low groan, “fine, i’ll tell flint you can’t make it today and i’ll be back to bring you some food during the meal times. just go back to sleep,” you say and close the blinds, but before you leave, you whisper, “goodnight princess,” in which draco replies to with a low and annoyed, “y/n.”

before your quidditch match starts, you stretch your body after the trouble you got into for draco’s absence. as dean thomas announces the teams, you fly into the field and take a few laps before stopping in front of the twins. “get ready to lose y/n,” fred inserts, “you wish,” cormac mclaggen comes to taunt you further, “where’s your little boyfriend, l/n?” you roll your eyes, “he’s sick, have you got a problem?” he sniggers, “nope.” he replies popping the p. george shakes his head at his teammate, “just ignore him. that’s what we do.” he gives you a wink and goes back to pretend to listen to madam hooch.

halfway through the game, you wipe the sweat off of your forehead and keep your eye on one of the bludgers. successfully knocking the bludger out of angelina johnsons’ arms, you follow closely to it, head to head with george. you block the second bludger from hitting graham montague, your chaser, as he holds one in his arms to score. unfortunately, the bludger gets caught by mclaggen as he montague a small smirk before throwing the ball towards you. not reacting fast enough, it hits you in the gut and you fall backwards off your broom. blinded by the pain in your gut, you don’t notice how far away you are from your broom. luckily, george catches you and slowly carries you to the ground. madam hooch runs up to you in the middle of field after giving cormac a time out, having a hard time breathing. taking in raspy breaths, your eyes water up. you lay on your back as a stretcher takes you to the hospital wing. to ease the pain, madam pomfrey gives you pain relief potion as she examines your abdomen, “nothing broken my dear, just severely bruised.” you nod solemnly at her, “just stay here for overnight and continue to talk this potion to heal.” pansy enters the wing and gives you a smile, “that was awesome.” the both of you break out in laughter until you groan, “the way george caught you in the air, i thought i was going to lose my best friend today.” your conversation with her goes on until you interrupt, “so, draco is sick and i promised to bring him a meal at every meal time but, i can’t now so as my best friend, will you do it for me?” her face turns stone as she stares at you before bursting out into laughter at you facial expression. “of course silly. anyways, back to my story…” she continues.

after leaving you at the hospital, pansy packs a plateful of food before unlocking the door to draco’s bedroom. “wake up dork,” he opens his eyes to see pansy instead of you, “where’s y/n?” draco asks annoyed, “she got injured at today’s quidditch game, mclaggen threw the bludger at her and she’s in the hospital wing but-“ before pansy could finish her sentence, draco runs through the hallways, clad in his pajamas. finally reaching the hospital wing, he bursts through the entrance and spots you, “y/n are you okay? i should’ve gone to the game today.” draco spews out words and you stare at him before cutting him off, “i’m alright draco,” you grab his hand, “thank you for worrying but you’re sick. you shouldn’t be out of bed,” he takes in deep breaths, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “i just needed to see if you were alright.” your thumb rubs against his palm, “i’m good, so go back to your dorm and rest. if you’re not better by tomorrow, i promise i’ll be there.” he nods and reluctantly lets go of the warmth your hand held. you let out a sigh as you watch him walk away until the curtain next to your bed rips open, unveiling two redheaded twins. you slightly jump, “well, well, well. just tell him you love him.” fred starts, “i mean, its sort of obvious.” you shake your head at the boys, “i can’t,” they both let out huffs of annoyance, “why not?” george questions, “he’s with astoria right now. and he seems happy for the first in a while. i don’t want to take that away,” you pause, “anyways, you should go to dinner. i’ll be eating whatever madam pomfrey serves me.” the twins laugh at you before fred leans in close to your ear, “we have tons of pranks up our sleeves so if you want anything to do to mclaggen, we’ll be happy to provide.” you push the boy away with a close lipped smile, “thank you for the offer, but i’m going to have to pass it up for now.” fred lets out an, “understood,” as he and his twin walk out of the wing.

the next day, madam pomfrey releases you to breakfast after giving you one last potion for your bruises. you enter the hallways and a breeze blows through your hair as you start to speed walk to the hall. entering the great hall, all of your friends stare at your incredibly quick recovery. pansy runs up to you and squeezes you tightly, “pansy, a little looser please.” you laugh along with her and greet your other friends before spotting a seated draco with astoria’s arm looped around his own. he gives you an apologetic look and you return a small smile with a shake of your head to reassure him that it was alright. pansy informs you about their incoming trip to hogsmede later and asks if you could go, “yeah, i can go, i have to buy some more ink for my essay.” blaise then turns to draco, “oi malfoy, you coming?” draco sits still before opening his mouth to complain, “its cold and i’m sick. do you really think i’m going to go?” a small smirk appears on blaise’s face, “i heard y/n agreed to come.” draco’s head turns towards you with super sonic speed, “really?” you give him a closed lipped smile and very slow head nod. “then i’ll be there,” draco says, “me too!” astoria adds on. pansy gives her a look of disgust, “uh astoria, this is just for our friend group. we made a rule that there are no plus ones.” astoria then pouts and turns to draco, “draco, i could come right?” pansy rolls her eyes and pretends to gag. draco turns towards you and looks to you for help, “astoria, if you’d like to come, you’re welcome to come,” you say, earning a whine from pansy. “great! we’ll meet you at the exit of hogwarts.” you nod and send an extremely small smile towards her.

while you get ready, pansy waits for you on your bed. “y/n, i have no idea why you invited her, she’s literally the bane of our existence.” you chuckle at your dramatic best friend, “she’s dating draco, so we have to include her or else who knows what draco would do?” browsing through your closet, you pick out a slytherin sweater and a vintage poofy jacket. “y/n, the only reason why draco decided to come was because blaise told him you were coming. doesn’t that scream something to you?” you continue to look at yourself in the mirror, “no, it doesn’t. we’re just best friends pansy, nothing more.” her face droops down and she rolls her eyes, “you, my best friend, are the smartest witch in all of hogwarts but you’re too blinded by draco’s happiness to find your own,” shaking your head, you turn away from the mirror and walk to the door but before you exit, you stop, “i’m happy for him so it’s fine,” you say, sounding more like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than pansy.

your group of friends all meet at the exit of hogwarts and while you wait for draco and astoria to show up, you see the weasley twins. you smile and wave at them until fred waves you over to their location behind the tree. you look over at your occupied friends and walk over to them, “what’s up, weasleys?” they both stand towered over you, “y/n, we might’ve done something we weren’t supposed to do and now we have to go clean it up,” george begins, “mcgonagall’s orders,” fred adds and george continues, “we’ve got the trio but it’s too big of a mess so we’re recruiting people to help us clean.” you let out a sigh but nod your head, “okay, give me a second to tell my friends. wait for me at the entrance of the castle.” they both give you a salute and march over to the entrance as you walk towards your group of friends, now including draco and astoria. “hey,” you say as you see draco, now turning towards all your friends, “i have to go help the weasley twins today so, no hogsmede for me today,” you slightly pout, “y/n, why do you have to help the weasel twins?” you lightly punch him on the arm, “i’ll be going now,” your friends wave to you as you walk away until you hear, “wait y/n!” and you turn around to see draco jogging towards you, “i’m not going to go either,” your eyes widen at the boy while he gives you a smirk, “what about astoria?” his smirk falters as he gives you a genuine smile, “always thinking about others before yourself, i really don’t think slytherin was the right house for you. maybe hufflepuff?” you roll your eyes as you start to walk and his arm lays on your shoulders. “if i was in any other house, i would’ve avoided you at first sight,” he chuckles, “ow, that hurt,” he replies sarcastically.

as you enter the entrance of the castle, you see fred waiting for you and his eyes shift to draco, “you here to help, malfoy?” draco rolls his eyes, “yes weasley.” you pat draco on the back, “good boy,” his ear slightly turn red but the action goes unnoticed as you start a conversation with fred, “what did you even do in the first place?” a mischievous glint grows on fred’s face as he opens the door to an explosion of soap bubbles in mcgonagall’s classroom, leaving your eyes wide along with draco’s. “freddie!” george yells from across the room which attracts the attention of the students helping clean. you turn to draco, looking up at him in equal surprise as him. george comes and hands you a wet rag along with a bucket to help dissolve the bubbles surrounding the room. for the whole time, draco stood next to you and cleaned about two percent of the hundred percent you cleaned. on your way to dump out the bucket in the lavatory, you bump into graham montague. “hey y/n. sorry about the bludger the other day. if i blocked it for you, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” you shake your head, setting down the bucket full of bubbles, “no, it wasn’t your fault. if i had paid attention i wouldn’t have gotten hurt. don’t blame yourself.” he tilts his head to look down at you, “what’s the bucket for?” your head then tilts down to look at the bucket, “helping fred and george clean up their most recent prank,” graham nods his head in understanding, “do you need help?’ a tiny chuckle leaves your lips, “if you could help, it would be much appreciated,” he nods and takes the bucket from your grasp as the both of you continue to walk to the lavatory.

upon your return to the classroom with graham, draco looks at you before turning towards graham. he struts up to you and stretches his arm over your shoulder, getting face to face with graham. you sigh at his childish behavior, “thank you for helping graham, we’ll see you at quidditch practice tomorrow.” draco continues to stare graham down, “yeah, see you tomorrow y/n.” you push away from draco’s grasp and go to continue cleaning.

at the end of the weasley’s cleaning fiasco, you walk to dinner with draco in silence. not an awkward silence but a comfortable silence, “so how’s it going with astoria?” you ask out of the blue, “it’s alright but it’s a good thing she’s not as annoying as her younger version, daphne.” he retorts “daphne’s kind.” you retort back, “oh y/n. only seeing the positives in people.” draco stops to fix his dress robe while you continue to walk without him until stopping to turn around and check on him only to notice astoria clinging onto to his arm. draco tries to find you over astoria’s shoulder only to find that you had disappeared. you walk out to the same spot next to the lake. the wind blew through your hair as you stood by the edge of the lake, glancing at the icy water. you hear the noise of rowdy boys behind you before feeling a push in the back, towards the lake. landing with a splash, you hold your breath and try to swim back up to the surface but the weight of your wet clothing dragged you back down, along with the unhealed bruises around your abdomen. floating down peacefully, the cold water engulfs you whole and you let out a final breath of air.

in the meantime, draco stands next to astoria as she smothers him. he firms himself up as he prepares himself to break up with her. “astoria, i think we need to take a-“ but he soon gets cut off as he sees you in the arms of cedric diggory, unconscious. “what the hell did you do to her, diggory?!” he shouts, worried about his best friend. “i saved her from the lake when mclaggen pushed her in, now move out of the way so i can take her to the hospital wing.” in that instant moment, draco realizes that it wasn’t the thought of being with astoria that mad him happy, but the fact that you would be there for him no matter what decision he makes. rage fills draco’s whole body as he moves out of cedric’s way and to find cormac.

when you wake up, you find yourself surrounded by your friends and a bloodied up cormac mclaggen. pansy notices you and mouths a quiet, “are you okay?” to not wake the other boys up and you reply with a nod, unfortunately, actually waking the boys up. draco releases his hold on your hand and goes to hug you. he chuckles in your ear, “you have no idea how relieved i am that you are okay.” you chuckle back at his words, “what, you didn’t think i could swim?” he releases from his hug and then looks at you with a serious face, “i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you. i just got caught up with astoria, but i have something to say,” he pauses as he looks at your reaction, “guys, i hope you still know that we’re all here.” pansy interrupts.

draco turns around to mouth a get out before turning back to you, “y/n, over the past weeks, i realize that i spent less time around and to be honest, it was killing me. it killed me to see you around the weasel twins more,” you interrupt him, “weasley twins, can’t you get it right once-“ he cuts you off by putting his hand over your mouth to silence you, “y/n, i’m trying to be serious. i want to spend more time with you, my best friend. i hope you know that i love you even though i don’t express it everyday.” he jokes while your expression changes from joking to a straight face. “draco, i know you love me because we’re best friends and we have been since we were little but,” you give him a sad smile, “you don’t love me the way you love her. because all i’ll ever be is your best friend but she could be your wife. so maybe save the i love you’s for her.” draco’s face falls at your words, “yeah you’re right, i don’t love you the way i love her because i love you more. hell, i get nervous every time i’m around you alone or when you let me play with your hair when you study or when you come to take care of me when i’m sick. y/n, i love you so much and i want to be more than just best friends.” your eyes widen and tear up slightly, “but we can’t if you think that way.” you let out a big sigh but a large smile erupts on your face. “draco, i’ve loved you since our first year when hermione told me the story of you in the dark forest. but you can’t do to this to astoria,” his face turns a bit guilty, “i forgot to mention that i broke up with her while you were being treated. supposedly she asked mclaggen to push you in. she didn’t take it very well so i would sleep in my room for the time being,” you chuckle at his confession, “will do,” draco quickly shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours. the both of you hear a “finally!” from outside and you feel a smile form on draco’s face. he pulls away and smiles at you, “come on y/n, lets go.” draco says as he grabs your hand but you make no attempt to leave your bed, “oh i actually have to stay here for one more night because i need to more potions, but i’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.” he lets out a noise of disappointment and kisses you on the forehead before leaving the room.

the next morning, you wake up from your bed in the hospital wing and walk to breakfast by yourself until you meet cedric. “oh cedric, thank you for saving me.” he gives you a relieving smile, “it’s no problem but i almost got killed by malfoy for carrying you while you were unconscious,” he chuckles at you surprised reaction, “i am so sorry about that,” cedric shakes his head, “it’s alright, it’s good to see he cares.”

after waving goodbye to cedric, you walk out to the snowy lake once again, only to see draco already there waiting for you. “draco? why are you here?” his face lights up as he spots you, “i was tired of waiting for you at breakfast and i knew you normally come here so i just decided to wait for you here.” draco opens up his coat as you walk towards him and he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in his coat’s wings. he leans in closely to whisper in your ear, “i can’t wait till i marry you and we start our own family,” you give him a small laugh at his cheesy words, “calm down mr. malfoy, we only started dating yesterday.” he pulls away from you and stares at your face, “but i feel like we’ve been dating for seven years,” draco leans closely to you and kisses you gently as both of your rosy cheeks illuminate off of each other.

pansy and blaise watch the both of their best friends from a far. “could they be any grosser? like calm down, it’s only eight am on a monday morning.” pansy rolls her eyes, “let them have this moment, i honestly was getting tired of listening to both of them complain about their ‘unrequited’ love for each other.” blaise nods his head in acknowledgment.

draco and you watch as pansy and blaise stuff each other’s face into the fluffy snow, “i love you draco,“ you say as he has your face cupped in his hands, “i love you more y/n. now lets go to breakfast, can’t have you hungry today.” you give a large close lipped smile as draco grabs your hand and stuffs into his pocket while the both of you walk into the castle. as the both of you near the castle, you ask, “did you beat up cormac?” draco continues on his path in silence before answering, “of course. he hurt my girl, and we can’t let him get away with it.” you roll your eyes, “thank you, i guess?” he laughs at you and kisses you on the forehead as the both of you continue your walk to the breakfast hall.

a/n: hi! this is probably one of my longest fics and it took legit 4 business days to write this lol. also, this may be the last fic i post in oct, but please enjoy it along with my other stories!

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

I’m Right Here

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident (minor), Injuries

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: There is nothing scarier than those moments when every breath you take is shallow; when your heart is racing and your body is drenched in cold sweat. When you are rushing to the aid of a hurt loved one, knowing you can never be fast enough because your mind and fear are at least a mile ahead of you. Corpse has to experience these exact moments after a frightening call that informs him of his girlfriend’s car accident.

Requested by @sugiliteshadow . Hi! Thank you so much for you request, darling. Sorry to be posting it so late and I can’t thank you enough for your patience. I hope the fic itself makes up for the wait. Please enjoy! Stay safe! Love, Vy ❤

It’s been about an hour since I got off the phone with Y/N and my concern is through the roof. She called me from the parking lot of the office building where she works at, telling me she’s be home in less than half an hour and asking if I needed her to pick up anything along the way. I have been trying to brush away the worries, comforting myself with the fact that I did request a specific type of iced tea and knowing Y/N, she’s probably looking for it in multiple stores because she couldn’t find it in the convenience store that’s along her way back home. I should’ve told her not to sweat it considering I don’t need it right away or anything. I have tried distracting myself with editing just to hinder myself from picking up my phone and debating weather to call her or not. I may be worried but I don’t wanna put her life in danger by calling her while she’s driving.

I keep my hands on my keyboard and mouse, my phone halfway across the room just in case. Another thirty minutes pass by with no sound of the door being unlocked or even a car pulling up. My fingers are beginning to drum over the buttons on my keyboard anxiously. I have had to go back and redo so many things with the video I’m editing because my mind simply isn’t present. It’s wandering around the city, looking for that one familiar car that’s always outside our house, parked in the driveway. That’s currently being driven by my girlfriend of two years Y/N.

My phone’s ringtone snaps me out of the downwards spiral of my thoughts, simultaneously picking up the speed of my heartbeat. I basically launch myself out of my chair and towards the bed where the ringing is coming from. I feel a wave of relief rush over me when I see Y/N’s name on the lit screen.

“Hey babe, where have you been?“ I ask as soon as I answer the call. It feels like my whole body shuts down when I finally pick up on the sound of blaring sirens in the background.

“Sir, I’m sorry to inform you Miss Y/L/N has been in an accident.” The words the female voice on the phone says cut through me like a knife, sending chills of paralyzing fear all over my body, “You were the last person she contacted before the accident which is why we’ve stepped in contact with you. However, if you are not able to come collect Miss Y/L/N, please contact a family member of hers.“

The calmness of her tone is freaking me out of my skin and mind, “Is she ok?! Where is she?!“

“She’s alright, sir. She’s not completely conscious yet, though. But she will be by the time you arrive. Her injuries are not in any way life-threatening. She has a few cuts and bruises and a concussion. A medical team has already taken care of her.“

Before I know it, I’m already out the door, the location the policewoman gave me in my head as I get behind the wheel of my car which I rarely use. Thankfully, the road the accident happened on is less than fifteen minutes away. Due to the late hour there is close to no traffic on the roads so I make it to the scene in no time. Y/N’s car is surrounded by two cop cars and two ambulances. I barely even notice the black Honda Civic that is almost equally as beat up as Y/N’s Toyota. Speaking of the Toyota, its front bumper is completely obliterated - the headlights, blinkers and windshield in pieces and shards on the pavement.

In the first ambulance there’s a guy passed out on a gurney with an ivy rip connected to his arm. In the one next to it is Y/N, sitting hunched over with her head hanging low, her hair falling over her face.

“Y/N?“ I rush over to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder but withdrawing my arm in case she has a bruise in that spot.

She lifts her head, a look of relief and happiness flashing across her face. She lets out a sigh, a small smile appearing on her lips as her eyes fill with tears. “Corpse...” her hand reaches out for mine which is still hanging in the air. I give her my other hand and she uses me as support to slowly stand up. She lets go of my hands and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug as a quiet sob leaves her chest. “I was so scared when I woke up. I couldn’t remember anything.”

“It’s ok, you’re ok now. I’m here, I’m right here.“ I gently smooth her hair while carefully holding her in my embrace. She has a few purple bruises along her arms and cuts on her cheek and neck which are covered in white bandages with small dark red stains. The most major thing I can see is the cut on her left temple which is also covered up. I press a tender kiss to the right one. “Are you in any pain?“ I pull away to get a better look at her.

Thankfully she shakes her head, “No, I’m ok. My elbow hurts a little but that’s it.”

I nod, moving a strand of hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead. Just as I’m about to ask her what exactly happened one one of the police officers approaches us.

“A drunk driver. He ran the red light and crashed straight into her car.“ The officer says, judging by her voice it’s the same woman that called me. “You don’t remember that, do you?“

Y/N turns to her, “I just remember hearing a loud crash and then darkness. I didn’t know what had happened until you told me when I woke up.”

The policewoman gives us a sincere smile, lightly touching Y/N’s shoulder “It’s ok, sweetheart. You are alright, that’s what matters. And you have someone here by your side.”

Y/N’s eyes meet mine when she gives me the most loving glance, the one that I often catch in her eyes - the one that always melts me. “He always is.” she says, running her fingers down my arm, interlocking hers with mine when they reach my hand.

The policewoman tells us good night and walks over to the other ambulance. We stick around to see the cars get taken away and Y/N gives her info so they can contact her when the car is repaired. I know how much she loves that car - it’s the first and only car she has ever owned. She has had it for about seven years and calls it her child basically. I never thought I’d be jealous of a car in my life - just kidding. But my point has been made - she’s never been apart from it or driven another car.

Wrapping my arm around her while she watches her car being taken away, I turn her around, leading her towards my car. “Let’s get you home. You’ll be 100% under my care and no complaints will be accepted.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, snuggling up into my side, “Don’t make a big deal about this please. And, for the love of God, don’t baby me too much, ok?”

I grin down at her, “What was that, I didn’t quite catch it?“

“Corpseeee...“ She pouts, a frown on her face, making her look so childish it’s absolutely adorable.

“Save the whining, it ain’t gonna work.“ I open the door to the passenger seat, stepping aside so she can get in the my car.

Surprisingly enough, she actually doesn’t complain the rest of the way home nor when we arrive. Nor when I instruct her to stay in bed and not move unless it’s absolutely necessary. I basically bring all the snacks from the kitchen into our room while she compiles a list of movies we will be watching because no sleep will be had tonight. “I love you.“ Y/N says through a sigh halfway through the second movie.

“I love you too. But don’t fall asleep.“ I tickle her side, causing her to giggle and squirm in an attempt to get away from me.

“Ok, ok, but you’re gonna have to help me. If I blink, I’ll be a goner.“ She yawns, shuffling back towards me. When she flashes me that hinting wide smile, I know exactly what she’s insinuating.

I sigh, giving in with ease. “When you were here before...“

“Couldn’t look you in the eye...“ she backs me up just as I knew she would

“You’re just like an angel...“

“Your skin makes me cry...“

Needless to say, we end up duetting random songs - rap songs, heavy metal, pop songs, some of my songs, some Christmas songs, Disney songs - making it one of the best movie marathons we’ve ever had, the unfortunate events of the day far behind us and completely gone from our minds.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @the-fuck-up-of-today @chiefwombathoagiepizza @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @symphony-butterfly @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @baby-iyania @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @pinkhairedsapphic @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @maybe-im-dead-idk @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @chaoticgayandnerdy @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @strawberrycheesecakekenzistuff @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @amysingh2512 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @faepetersen @namikhai-i @nastiablr

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goldentournesol · 3 years

Note

hi! 7 and 23 from the general list?

hiii!! this is fem reader, trying out a new format, would love feedback cw: nose bleed

"Is that blood?” “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding.”

“Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?”

T minus 1 hour and 49 minutes until the date

Spencer was going on a date. Spencer is supposed to be meeting another woman at a restaurant in less than 2 hours. It’s safe to say Y/N was freaking out. Her heart began racing the second Penelope texted her the news, Spencer hadn’t told her anything despite how close they’ve become. Why would he? It’s not like they’ve ever discussed anything of the romantic nature. She’d only joined the bureau around a year and a half ago, but she had no idea what she was getting into.

T minus 1 hour and 34 minutes

She’s been pacing around and around her little dining table for the past 15 minutes in a complete panic. It wasn’t too late, she could still tell him how she feels. She stole a glance at the clock and nodded once to herself. She put her shoes on and a coat over her pajamas then hesitated at the door.

Oh no, this is a bad idea, she repeated.

The thought of him smiling at another woman made her throat close up. Before she knew it, she had taken off running in the direction of the train station.

If she made it there in 7 minutes she’ll make the train that took approximately 20 minutes to get near Spencer’s street, then she could run the remaining 10 minutes and make it in time before he left--

BAM!

She smashed face first into a lamppost, allowing a loud expletive to slip past her lips. She scowled at the pain that reverberated throughout her face. Y/N took a minute to reorient herself before she felt the heat rise to her cheeks in embarrassment. Upon whipping her head around to see if anyone saw the accident, she felt a warm liquid slide down her upper lip and into her mouth. Touching it, she realized it was blood. Knowing she didn’t have any tissues, she wiped her nose against her sleeve once and kept it there and before taking off in a run again.

T minus 1 hour and 25 minutes

Her little accident cost her the first train. She waited impatiently for the second train, cursing her luck. Speaking of luck, however, a nice old lady noticed her bloody nose and puffy eye and offered her a bunch of tissues. Y/N almost cried at the gesture, though she blamed the few tears that fell from her left eye on the swelling.

T minus 1 hour and 5 minutes

She finally got on the second train. Hopefully she’d be able to make it in time. Knowing Spencer, he’d probably leave his apartment 20-30 minutes before the time they agreed upon, depending on how far the restaurant was. She was cutting it close.

T minus 45 minutes

She felt like an absolute maniac running through Spencer’s street with bloody tissues held up to her nose.

T minus 37 minutes

She ran up the stairs to his apartment building, completely out of breath by the time she reached his door. Knocking frantically, she tried to catch her breath.

“Y/N?” He swung open the door, buttoning the last button to his shiny charcoal gray blazer.

He looked exquisite.

“Spencer.” She said stupidly, gawking at him. She suddenly forgot what she was here for.

“Is that blood?” Spencer asked, his eyes widening in alarm.

She had also completely forgotten about her nose and puffy eye. “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-”

“You are literally bleeding.” Spencer said, unphased by her attempts at saying anything else. He quickly guided her into his kitchen and fetched her a bag of ice. She sat at his dining table and held the bag of ice to her eye. He left her to get the first aid kit.

“Spencer, can you please forget about this? I really need to talk to you. And I’m sorry for coming here unannounced and all panicky but I couldn’t wait.” Y/N said all in one breath. He came back into the kitchen and got a cotton pad ready.

“Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” Spencer said, softly gripping her chin and patting away at the remaining blood. Y/N could feel her eyes well up at his tenderness.

“Does it hurt?” He said, standing so close Y/N could smell his cologne. It was her favorite and he knew. He was wearing her favorite cologne to a date with another woman. Jealousy bloomed inside of her chest.

She nodded somberly, waiting for her breath to even itself out.

“What happened?” He asked, calmly tending to her nose. She took a shuddering breath and closed her eye.

“I ran into a lamp post. Literally.” Y/N sheepishly admitted, bracing herself for his laughter, but the corners of his lips merely raised.

“Why were you in such a hurry?” Spencer threw out the cotton pad and inspected her nose, it didn’t seem to be broken, but it was likely to swell. The proximity of his face was so jarring, she could lean forward a few inches and slot her lips right over his if she wanted to.

“I-I wanted to make it here before you left for your date.” She said softly, removing the ice from her eye in order to look at him clearly. His body language shifted entirely, he took a step back and avoided her eyes.

“How did you know...about the date?” Spencer asked, busying himself with tidying up the counter.

“Penelope told me.” He only hummed in response, “Spencer, don’t go on that date.”

His eyes met hers curiously, “Why not?”

“Because...because,” She hesitated, fidgeting with the ice pack. Spencer stepped closer and laid his hands over her cold ones.

“Because what, Y/N?” He whispered hopefully.

She looked up at him again, “Because I love you.” She whispered back, a physical weight was lifted off her chest.

Spencer smiled in relief and squeezed her hands, “You do?”

“I do, so much. And I’m sure the woman you were about to meet is amazing, but she’ll never love you the way I do.” Her voice broke.

One of Spencer’s hands left hers to rest on the uninjured side of her face and she leaned into his warmth instinctively.

“I could never ask for anything else. I love you too.” He uttered, making Y/N release a wet chuckle. Spencer’s thumb caught one of her tears before resting his forehead against hers, mindful of her injuries.

T minus 5 minutes

After a short silence, Spencer’s phone rang. He detached himself from Y/N and found his date calling. Spencer picked up and politely told his date that he wouldn’t be able to make it.

Y/N should have felt guilty, but the sheer happiness in her heart left no room for any other emotion.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer x reader #steph writes blurbs

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

It’s Always Been You ~ 142

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,590ish

Summary: Y/N tells Tony who her choice has always been. The team starts to learn more about the Stones.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (None of the gifs are mine.)

Previous on Out Of Time…

“Tony…” She tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed onto her arms, keeping her facing him.

“No, you don’t get to run away right now. I need an answer. If we’re going to do this, bring everyone back. I need to know the truth, once and for all. That I wasn’t the second choice, that I wasn’t just the only option so you went for it… So, tell me, would you have chosen me if Barnes was still here?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Stark,” Y/N practically growled, trying to hold back her anger as she pulled away from him. “You think that I would marry you if I didn’t absolutely love you? That I would do that if I wasn’t choosing you? It’s always been you!! Ever since the first day we met, I just didn’t want to admit it. Too scared that this would all go wrong somehow and I would lose you forever. That day Strange showed up to get us, do you remember how I kept trying to tell you something and you kept going on about that dream you had about Morgan?”

“Yes,” Tony mumbled, trying not to make Y/N freak more than she was. He was also feeling guilty about ever doubting her, he knew better than that.

“I was trying to tell you that I had chosen you! I had made my choice that day and I was coming to tell you that you were it for me! But then… then everything happened… And people vanished… I searched Titan a thousand times over for you. Hoping and praying that the ashes that keep breezing past me, weren’t you. And when you came back alive, no one else mattered. Because I had you still, and I knew that we’d be okay. No matter what… And the fact that, after all this time, you’re doubting me… that hurts.” Tears were threatening to spill from Y/N’s eyes.

“Y/N, honey,” Tony went to hold her, but she stepped away.

“How could you doubt me? After all this time? I know that I probably confused you, but did I ever give you doubt in the last five years that I wasn’t completely devoted to you? To the family that we built?”

“You have to see it my way, Y/N. I thought that we were good back then too. And then Bucky came back into the picture, more than once.”

“And yet I still came back to you. After everything, I always found my way back to you… I love you, Tony. It’s always been you.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Tony slowly reached for Y/N’s hands. He was scared that she’d pull away again as he was so desperate to feel her in his arms. “I should have never doubted you.” She flinched slightly as his hands took hers, but didn’t pull away. “It’s always been you for me too.” He slowly moved closer to her. “I’m sorry I just…” He sighed. “It’s always been nagging at me. I needed to know.”

“I know… And I’m sorry I didn’t clear it up sooner.” She curled herself into his chest. “I’m terrified, Tony.”

Tony held her to his chest and held a kiss to her head. “Me too.”

“I can’t lose anyone else… especially not you or Morgan.”

“We aren’t going to lose each other or Morgan… we’re going to make it through this.” He looked down and brushed his fingers down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She pulled him down for a kiss. “I’m still mad at you for doubting me.”

“I have a feeling that you’ll get back at me for it in a subtle way later.”

“Not gonna be that subtle.”

~~~

“And then Happy bought me two cheeseburgers!” Morgan exclaimed through the phone’s screen.

“Two?!” Y/N gasped, faking excitement for Morgan.

“And I ate them both!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s crazy!”

“Just like your old man, Mo,” Tony said, making his appearance next to Y/N.

“Tomorrow, Aunt Pepper said that we could rake the leaves and jump in them!”

“That sounds so much fun Morgan,” Y/N responded, trying to hide the shakiness of her voice. Tony, having his arm wrapped around her waist, gave her a light squeeze in understanding. “Momma misses you, Mo.”

“I miss you too. When are you coming home?”

Y/N took in a harsh breath, unable to answer. “We aren’t sure, sweetheart,” Tony responded. “But it won’t be too long. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“It’s past your bedtime, now. Good night, we love you.”

“I love you both 3000!” Then the girl hung up.

Y/N broke down into tears in Tony’s arms. She wanted to be back with Morgan. She didn’t want what she knew was coming to come. But she knew it had to. And that this was the only way for Morgan to be safe. Tony held Y/N close, whispering that it will all be okay as he periodically kissed her head. It was killing him to see her like this. He couldn’t wait for this to all be over and for them to all go home.

~~~

The next morning, they all gathered in a conference room to discuss the Stones. Y/N knew it was going to be an unpleasant day for her, since most of them knew she was tied to them. Tony, Steve, and Bruce paced in the front, while everyone else sat around the room.

“Okay, so the how works,” Steve began. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where. Almost all of us has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Well I'd substitute the word encounter for damn well near been killed by one of the six Infinity Stones,” Tony said. “Or is connected with them.” Y/N shrunk slightly in her seat as people glanced her way.

“I haven’t,” Scott cut in. “I don't even know what the hell you're all talking about.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round trip each,” Bruce stated. “And these Stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history,” Tony corrected. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in.”

“Which means we have to pick our targets,” Clint said.

“Correct.”

“Let’s start with the Aether,” Steve suggested. “Thor, what do you know?”

Everyone turned to look back at Thor. He was sitting on a chair, beer in hand and sunglasses on. Asleep. Y/N sighed, knowing that this probably was all going to do nothing to help Thor’s mental health.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha questioned.

“No,” Rhodey responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

Y/N gently woke Thor up and he stumbled to stand in front of everyone. Bruce put all the known information on the Reality Stone up on the screens.

“Where to start?” Thor asked himself, clearly still out of it. “Umm... The Aether, first, is not a stone, someone called it a stone before. It's more of a... an angry sludge thing, so... someones gonna need to amend that. Here's an interesting story though, many years ago... My grandfather had to hide the stones from the Dark Elves…” He wiggled his fingers. “Woooooh, scary beings. So Jane,” an image of Jane Foster popped up on the screen. “Oh, there she is. That’s Jane… She’s… an old flame of mine… she… she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time… and then the Aether stuck itself inside her... And, she became very, very sick.”

“So I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I'm from,” Thor continued. “And we had to try and fix her. We were dating at the time, you see. I got to introduce her to my Mother... who's dead,” everyone was trying to give their full attention to Thor as he began to look broken and rambled on, “and oh you know, Jane and I aren't even dating anymore, these things happen though you know, nothing last forever.”

Tony went up to him, trying to guide him back to his chair. “Why don’t you come sit--”

“I'm not done yet, the only thing permanent in life is impermanence.”

“Awesome,” Tony responded, keeping a hold of him. “Eggs? Breakfast?”

“I’d like a Bloody Mary, thank you.”

Y/N took a deep breath, thankful that she couldn’t feel Thor’s thoughts at the moment. He was broken, and it was so terribly sad. Tony got him to sit back down before deciding that they all needed a break for food.

~~~

The break ended at dinner, after they all got distracted with creating suits for everyone and gathering more information. Tony and Y/N had spent the day at each others sides, not that that was not normal. But this was different, there was now a complete understanding between the couple. That it was them, together, until the end. Together, they went to pick up dinner for the group. Tony’s hand was resting on Y/N’s thigh, thumb rubbing against it. Y/N was focused on the passing world outside the window.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, slightly worried for his wife.

“After this, no matter what happens, we need to retire,” Y/N said quietly. “We can’t keep doing this, especially with Morgan.” She turned to look at her husband. “One day, we might never come back. And I can’t—I won’t do that to her.”

Tony gave a light squeeze to her thigh. “Okay. We’ll retire. I’ll focus on something else, stop making suits.”

“I’ve really enjoyed the last few years of… normalcy. And I believe that we owe it to Morgan to try to keep it that way.”

“I agree… And maybe, we could possible give her a sibling?” Tony tried to make himself seem all innocent, but there was a glint of mischief behind it all.

Y/N patted the hand Tony hand on her. “Ask me after all of this is over. Okay?”

“I can do that.” Tony was silent focusing on the road, for a few moments before speaking up again. “But do you think we could practice? And cause, you know, we don’t know what will happen during the time travel.”

“Why don’t you just straight up say that you want to have sex, Tony?” She laughed.

“Okay, tonight, I want to have sex. End of story.”

Y/N laughed again. “I love you.”

Tony smirked. “You better.”

~~~

Dinner came with a large table and Rocket going over what happened with the Power Stone. Rocket was pacing on the opposite side of the table that Y/N and Tony were sitting on. Tony insisted on sitting next to Thor, worried about him.

“Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag,” the raccoon stated.

“Is that a person?” Scott asked.

“Morag’s a planet. Quill was a person.”

“A planet? Like in outer space?”

“Oh, look. It's like a little puppy, all happy and everything.” Rocket changed his tone to one that he was use when talking to a puppy. “Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy? I'll get you to space.”

“He hasn’t been a part of the team for long, Rocket,” Y/N said. “Give him some slack.”

“How are you doing Y/N?” Bruce asked, changing the subject.

“Better than yesterday. I think everything was just overwhelming me.”

“That brings up a question I have,” Rocket said. “It was mentioned that you’re connected to the Stones. How?”

“You don’t have to answer that, honey, if you don’t want to,” Tony said softly.

“No, it’s fine,” Y/N responded, giving Tony a small smile. She turned back to everyone. “In 1945, I came in physical contact with the Space Stone. It formed a bond with me, and because of that I’m able to control some of their abilities. They, um… they trained me and spoke to me.”

“She was meant to stop what happened,” Thor spoke up, surprisingly. “She was supposed to be the one that stopped him.”

“Thor,” Tony went to stop him.

“No, Tony,” Y/N stopped her husband. “It’s okay… I’m so sorry, Thor, that I couldn’t do what needed to be done then. But I was shown that that fight was not the end. And the Stones stopped me from doing what I had to… I’m so sorry.”

Thor’s chair scrapped as he stumbled up and out of there. Y/N went to follow but was stopped by Tony.

“You don’t need to go after him,” he said.

“But I do,” Y/N replied. “Because he protected me when you and Steve doubted me. He knew what I had to do, before I even really did. I’ll be okay.”

Tony reluctantly let Y/N follow after Thor. He had grabbed another beer and wandered into the hanger, where the platform was.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I need you to listen,” Y/N began. “I saw the dust and heard the screams years before it happened. Wanda showed it to me, back when we were dealing with Ultron. I saw the gauntlet and I saw it snap. The Stones said they saved me for that moment, but they lied. When the moment came, they told me different… I…” Y/N hesitated to say anything. But Thor had lost everything and deserved to know the whole truth. “I saw a battle. More destructive than we’ve ever been a part of. I saw myself fighting Thanos, all of us fighting together fighting. And I was told that if I tried to stop what happened that day, they would stop me… and they did.”

“Thanos is dead,” Thor responded, not bothering to turn around and face Y/N. “I killed him myself.”

“I know. And I don’t know how I saw myself fighting him. But I do know that I can’t doubt the Stones. We need to be prepared for the consequences that may come from us going back in time and bringing everyone back.”

“You and Thanos?” Steve questioned, alerting Y/N to the fact that everyone had followed them. She took in a sharp breath. “You saw yourself fight him?”

Y/N slowly turned around. “I did.”

“And it was different than what happened 5 years ago?” Natasha asked.

“Yes.”

“How could you keep this a secret from us?” Steve asked.

“I had to. For the safety of everyone… I didn’t even tell Tony everything.”

“We could have spent all this time preparing.”

“It would have done us no good.”

“Y/N,” Bruce called, trying to calm the escalating tension with his tone. “Do you know when it’s going to happen?”

“At the time, I was told five years.”

“What?” A few of them exclaimed.

“And you didn’t think that was important?” Steve questioned harshly.

“I did what I thought was right,” Y/N defended. “To protect the people I care about. You all can’t possibly stand here and judge me for that. We have all made that call! And you can’t possibly understand the burden I have carried with me for years.”

“Doesn’t matter, we’re your team,” Steve motioned to everyone in the room, before motioning between himself and her. “Your family.”

“And look how well that’s done us Steve…” She looked around the room, trying not to get emotional. “I am sorry for what’s all happened. But I am not sorry for the secrets I’ve kept to protect everyone.”

Without other word, Y/N walked out.

next chapter >

I AM SO EXCITED TO SHOW YOU GUYS WHAT I HAVE PLANNED! I hope that this chapter didn’t disappoint. I was really nervous to post it.

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magniloquent-raven · 3 years

Text

more of my trans billy ficlets here 💕

thing is, billy never wanted kids.

he didn't even like playing with the stupid plastic babies that out of touch relatives thought made good christmas gifts. the dolls stayed in a sad creepy little pile in his closet—shoved in the corner behind the laundry hamper—til he was ten, and his father started really cracking down on his be grateful for what you have campaign.

billy still insists that using his mom's hairspray to set them on fire counts as playing with them. but that particular argument ended with billy icing a black eye, peeking through the bathroom window to watch his dad lug what was left of his dresser to the dumpster across the street.

point is, billy's never had any interest in being a parent, not even playing pretend at being one.

and that was never really a problem, no guy stuck around long enough for it to ever be a conversation they'd have to have.

until steve.

and steve...steve was fucking born to be a dad, and billy knows it. even without knowing all about the botched dream of a white picket fence happy ending with his high school sweetheart, without having seen that wistful look in his eye when he talks about how he was going to take a shitty job with his dad and live out his suburban i-peaked-in-high-school fantasy, even without all that, it's still obvious.

because he's happy mothering his rag-tag band of ducklings, even though they're too old to be babysat now. because he lights up with the most precious fucking goofy grin when random babies wave at him in public. because he knows all the ways his parents went wrong, and he's exactly the kind of person who'd do better just to spite them.

but billy doesn't know if he's that kind of person. and he's not sure if he'd ever forgive himself if it turns out he isn't.

he's not sure what he'll do about it if steve ever asks, so he's been doing the only logical thing. avoiding the subject entirely.

which, obviously doesn't last.

they've been together for three years. they share an apartment. marriage and kids and all that normal adult couple shit is what mature people talk about when they're in committed relationships, apparently.

it started with a favour for a friend.

some girl steve works with needed someone to watch her toddler for a couple hours, and of course steve volunteered. would've been fine if he hadn't forgotten something at home and called billy to ask him to drop it off.

and, see, it wasn't like he meant to stay, the kid was just so fucking clingy, and took a shying to billy of all people.

and billy saw the little soft-eyed smiles steve kept throwing his way whenever the kid latched onto his leg or babbled at him in toddler-speak that billy had to pretend to understand. he noticed. he's can't stop noticing. can't stop nervously glancing at steve, anxiety threading itself around his heart, his lungs, til he's all tangled up in it, tied up, stomach lurching when it pulls and tightens. he's tense, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

and it does. in the car on the way home.

"you ever think about having kids?" steve is trying so hard to be nonchalant that it's almost painful. he's tracing patterns on his jean-clad thigh, billy can see him out of the corner of his eye. he keeps his gaze locked on the road.

he should probably ease into it. maybe. he has no idea, actually, this is probably gonna be a shit-show either way. for one, brief, horrifying moment he wonders if steve would break up with him over this and he can't breathe for a second.

and when his lungs expand again what comes tumbling out of his mouth is—

"i'd be a shitty dad, steve."

he winces at his own tone.

"fuck off, you would not." steve's vehemence surprises him enough that he forgets not to look. steve's brow is furrowed, his jaw set in a stubborn pout.

billy chews his lip silently, fingers tight on the steering wheel. "what makes you so sure," he asks quietly.

"you're kidding, right?" steve huffs. there's a pause, and his palm lands on billy's bicep, warm and grounding. "i'm sure because i know you." he squeezes billy's arm, "and...max and i talk," he adds, voice soft.

"knew introducing you two was a bad idea," billy mumbles. "fucking gossiping behind my back"

steve snickers. "all good things, i promise."

"right."

"...mostly good things."

"hm."

"come on, she loves you and you know it."

billy sighs, a half-hearted grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "yeah."

"and so do i."

"...you better." his smile grows when steve slaps his shoulder. "yeah, yeah, love you too, jesus."

"you better," steve echoes sarcastically. after a quiet moment of slowly drawing circles up and down billy's arm he adds, "i doubt myself too, y'know. it's not like i have any idea how to parent, mine weren't around enough to help me figure that shit out." he snorts.

"oh come on, you parent the shit out of those dorky brats of yours."

"nah..." steve shrugs, his hand slipping from billy's shoulder. "i was just. there, i guess. not like they listened to me or anything. which was probably good, 'cause i gave shitty advice and swore too much."

"you must done something right, they're still around." he glances over at steve. he's not looking back, he's got his forearms folded across his stomach, fingers curled around his elbows, slouched in on himself. billy reaches over and slips his hand around one of steve's. "hey. every one of those kids looks up to you, and you fucking earned that."

the rest of the drive is spent in companionable silence. billy knows its not the end of the conversation, not even close. it's going to come up again later, but it feels less looming and terrifying now. it's hard to be too scared of what-ifs when steve is two feet away and fiddling with one of billy's rings with a soft smile on his face.

later turns out to be when they've settled into bed for the night.

when steve rolls over, tugging billy's arm until it's draped around his waist, and he wiggles around trying to get his pillow squished just right. and billy watches him with an amused smile. and steve grins back, for a second, before he bites his lip, and—

"so, i...do want kids. um. just to be clear."

billy sighs. "yeah, i figured."

"i know you'd be great at it, billy," steve says quietly, firm and gentle and so damn sure that billy almost wants to believe him. "and we'd make a real pretty kid"

"jesus, harrington."

"what? it's true."

billy huffs a laugh. "yeah." he shifts, sheets rustling around his legs. "i never wanted kids, you know. always fuckin...freaked me out. the idea of it." steve watches him quietly, a warm hand on his chest, waiting patiently as billy pauses. "still fuckin' freaks me out. but you...it's less terrifying when i think about doing it with you. maybe."

"yeah?" steve's grin is blinding, his whole fucking body curling into it.

"maybe. keep it in your pants, bambi."

steve kisses him, cupping his cheek and leaning in slow and careful. "it's okay if the answer is no. it's okay. i'm just..." he nuzzles a little, eyes falling shut and a soft, contented smile warming his face. "makes me feel all special that you'd even consider it. for me."

yeah it's starting to look like there isn't a whole lot billy wouldn't consider doing for steve.

he snorts, and kisses steve's nose. "yeah well, don't get used to it."

"mm," steve snuggles closer. "wouldn't dream of it."

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #trans billy hargrove #a raven's writing desk

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tsrookie · 3 years

Text

Now, and Forevermore: Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Alyssa Brooks)

A/N: Super nervous about this one, because I’ve wanted to write an ILY fic for such a long time, but it always got pushed back thanks to PB and their stupid inconsistencies. May or may not have included a teeny tiny Merder reference.

Trope: Fluff

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): One innuendo, that’s it

Link to Part 1

——————————

Loud music blared through the speakers. Few guests remained in their seats, choosing to watch the joyous celebrations on the dance floor.

A wedding was an event where people came together to rejoice the union of two souls. Two separate lives, binding together for life. They came together to celebrate friendship, eternal partnership, and love.

Alyssa was still figuring out a way to confess hers.

She stumbled to the side of the crowded hall along with Sienna, who was equally exhausted from dancing the night away.

“Oh my god I think the last time I danced this much was at our housewarming party two years ago.”

Her best friend let out a chuckle. “I remember. Jackie even managed to knock over a plate of fries which ended up on your hair.”

She took a sip of her drink before continuing, “Speaking of the housewarming party, where’s the only person from the hospital who declined our invitation? Haven’t seen him since your dance, which was almost an hour ago.”

“He’s probably over at one of the balconies, away from all the noise.”

“Hmm.”

Sienna let out a sigh before fixing her eyes on the newlyweds, happy in their own little bubble, without a single worry.

“They look so… content. Like they have everything they’ll ever need right there in each other’s arms.”

“Yeah… I guess you feel that way when you’re head over heels in love with someone, and by some miracle, they feel the same.”

She looked over at Alyssa, who had a soft smile on her face. Her best friend had found the kind of true love she had always dreamed of, and she only hoped that it would last forever.

“Have you two said it yet?”

“Said what?”

“You know what I mean. Eight letters. Three special words. Words you two have been skirting around for almost a year now.”

“I…” She looked down, a pensive look taking over. “I don’t know Si… it never feels like we have a proper moment to say it. Everyday at Edenbrook feels like an unpredictable circus where something could go wrong at any minute. Finding time to just… be with each other without worrying about work seems impossible. Besides, he knows how I feel about him, and same here. There’s no rush.”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t always rely on your actions. Sometimes, words are better. Saying it makes it sure. It makes it feel real. Or else, you’ll be out of time before you know it. Say it out loud, Alyssa. Don’t waste time waiting for some perfect moment, because chances are, you might never get one.”

Alyssa held her hand tight, and took a moment to take in the gravity of her words. Sienna might’ve been ready to move on, but Danny was still someone she missed everyday.

“Okay.” She turned to face her. “I’ll tell him tonight. I promise.”

Sienna nodded her head in response, a small smile of satisfaction assuming her features.

—————

Ethan stood over by the railing, enjoying the feel of the sea breeze ruffling through his hair. The ocean glittered like diamonds, mirroring the starry sky. It was a magical sight, and he decided to go back into the raging party to bring Alyssa to enjoy the view with him. Although, he wasn’t sure his eyes would remain straight ahead with an actual goddess beside him.

“Thought I might find you here.”

His ears perked up. “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Well I found you first. Didn’t see you having any cake earlier, so I brought you some.”

He nodded in thanks. As she stood beside him, she looked positively ethereal. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the sight of the moonlit ocean, and her brunette hair danced along her bare shoulders.

Ethan didn’t have the words to describe her beauty, so he refrained to simply admiring her while he still had the time.

Her soft voice broke the comfortable silence they were in. “It’s beautiful out here. Kind of reminds me of the last time we were on a balcony facing the sea.”

He smiled ruefully. “You mean the night I threw every single rule I had for myself out the window and kissed you like my life depended on it, before leaving you the very same night to go sleep on the couch?”

“The very same. The only night where I had the best first kiss I could share with someone, and get dumped before we even got together.”

Ethan felt a pang of guilt in his chest upon hearing her words. He might have her now, but he would always regret the time he let go to waste.

Alyssa looked over at him, and his expression made her squeeze her eyes shut and smack her forehead. “Oh god I ruined the moment, didn’t I?” She took his hand in hers and said, “I’m so sorry. I’m under the influence of alcohol, so you know that I barely think before I blurt something out.”

“And here I was hoping we could have a proper conversation for the first time in months. Of course, I shouldn’t have had my expectations so high.”

She punched his shoulder playfully, and he took it as an opportunity to pull her closer. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her hair, which smelled of his shampoo from their shared suite. Ethan felt utterly content, having everything he ever needed and wanted in his arms, and wished he could stay rooted to the same spot for as long as he lived.

“Okay, Dr. Ethan ‘I would rather spend my time alone, in a party where his girlfriend’s having the time of her life, wishing her boyfriend would be there with her so that they could spend some quality time together’ Ramsey.”

“That’s… I think I preferred ‘freaking’ as my middle name compared to everything you just said.”

Soon, they were both laughing. She turned around to face him, and Ethan held her tighter. Taking in her face filled with happiness, illuminated by the light of the moon, he knew he had to say it.

“Is… everything okay?”

“I…” His throat closed up, at a loss for words. Saying the words he had longed to tell her for almost a year suddenly seemed impossible. After fearing true, long-lasting commitment for more than twenty five years, cementing his love for Alyssa scared him almost as much as the thought of ever losing her.

But looking into her concerned eyes, the eyes he could get lost into within the span of a second, he knew she deserved to hear it. She deserved the whole world, and so much more.

“It’s funny. I kept quiet all these months, not telling you what I should’ve told you the moment you were out of harm’s way after the attack, waiting for a perfect moment to present itself. When all along… I never realised that I didn’t need such a moment at all.”

He cupped her cheek, as she stared at him with wonder, yet a small smile dancing on her lips with the knowledge of what was to come. “Every single day, every minute, every second by your side, could not be more perfect. And I’m sorry that I didn’t know it sooner.”

“I love you, Alyssa Brooks. With all my heart, body and soul.”, he said as he brought her hand up to his thundering heart. “I believed love to be a lost and foreign concept, one which I would never be able to experience. But with you… I’d be an idiot to say that what I feel for you is anything but love. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love anyone as much as I love you and frankly, I don’t ever want to. I want to love you for the rest of my life. If you’ll let me, that is…”

Hopeful and earnest cerulean eyes stared back into awestruck shining brown, awaiting the response he desperately wanted to hear.

“Well… took you long enough.”, she teased, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I love you too, Ethan. More than you’ll ever know. And I want to love you for the rest of my life too.”

Matching her grin with one of his own, Ethan kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms round his neck and let her fingers tangle into his soft hair. He continued to kiss her with fervour, but she pulled away, panting.

“Don’t you think we should probably take this inside? I’d definitely like a more private celebration of us finally coming to our senses.”

“Are you sure? There’s still much left at the reception, including the bouquet toss, which I’m not sure Sienna would be okay with if you missed.”

She chuckled. “Considering the fact that she was the one who sent me out here to find you, I don’t think she’ll mind.” With a sudden surge of confidence, she added, “Besides… do you really think I should stay for that?”

Ethan held Alyssa’s gaze, which was both bold and bashful at the same time. He finally smirked and said, “No, you don’t have to.”

Her face broke into the smile he loved to see. A smile unburdened of all the worries in the world. A true and rare smile he thanked for being able to witness.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Alyssa took his hand and led him back to their room, but truthfully, he felt her lead him into a new life that would have its highs and lows, all filled with unconditional love.

He couldn’t wait to see what came next.

——————————

Link to Bonus Ending

A/N 2: Hope you guys liked it! There’s a small bonus ending I’ll be releasing soon, cause if my babies are happy, my babies’ number one shipper deserves to be happy too😌 Thank you so much for reading💙

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#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #playchoices #ethan ramsey fanfiction #mercy writes #ethan ramsey x mc

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Time

55 - “She’ll bleed out before nightfall and you think we should stay? Are you stupid?”

Thanks for the request Anon. Probably one of the hardest ones to write.

Warning: Violence, Blood

Word Count: 1,704

******

“Jesus! Could they not have chosen a better location?”

A shiver runs up your spine as you run through the building. Gun shots, grunts, and curses fill the air as you slide behind a cement pillar.

Snow billows past the windows outside. The cold pours into the facility as if the walls aren’t even there.

You were told during briefing that it would be cold, the mission being in Siberia, But your girlfriend had cockily mentioned that she didn’t get cold and you took that as a challenge. So you stupidly pulled on one jacket and a thermal before coming out here.

“Don’t tell me you’re cold.”

A grimace passes your face at her teasingly sultry voice.

You huff,“ bite me Romanoff.”

She chuckles, pausing to let off a couple shots,“ since you asked nicely.”

Thank god no one can see the heat rising to your cheeks.

“If you two could save the flirting for later, that would be nice.” The voice of the young witch joins.

“Sorry Wan.” You apologize, knowing Natasha won’t.

It takes the three of you another thirty minutes to clear the floor before you head to look for the data.

Splitting up, you each go into a room. Apparently these guys keep a lot of files.

You’re tempted to make a comment on it but decide against that. You’ve joked enough during this mission and it’s best to focus up.

Searching through the room proves fruitless. There isn’t a single bit of the info you need in here.

“I’m empty.” You speak into the comms, leaving the room with a frown.

Natasha had gone left and Wanda right. Knowing the red head can handle herself(and that you didn’t want to be that girlfriend) you go right.

You find that Wanda has just barely finished searching half the room when you enter. Giving the girl a supportive smirk, you search the other side.

It’s when she opens the last filing cabinet that you hear it.

tick tick tick

“Wanda move! Now!’ You shout and the girl takes off running.

She’s just made it to the door when it goes off. You throw yourself behind her, taking the brunt force of the explosion.

You want to scream when you feel the heat rush up your side, joined by the pain of something piercing your back. It’s a blinding pain, starting at one spot in in the middle of your back and spreading.

Natasha, having heard your call, rushes down the corridor. Her green eyes widen as she takes in the sight of you on the ground.

A piece of green metal sticks out of your body and jacket, shrapnel from the filing cabinets. The material of your jacket is quickly staining with blood.

She moves faster than she ever had, kneeling beside your body, and picking your face up off the ground.

Trying her best to maintain a calm composure, she presses the button on her ear piece,“ Steve. Steve come in, we need evac now. Y/n’s down.”

When static replies she feels the panic starting. The building has to be blocking her signal, they were communicating fine outside.

“Wanda.” She snaps at the girl unintentionally.“ Help me get her up, we can’t stay here.”

Together the women hoist you up, your arms around their shoulders, feet held by Wanda’s powers. You’re just barely holding on to consciousness as they carry you through the facility.

Once you get outside, the cold doesn’t help. The wind whips past your face, snow quickly sticking to your eyebrows.

Natasha tries the coms again,“ Steve come in, we need medics and evac now.”

“We-” static,“ Natash-” more static,“ wait.”

She clenches her teeth and nods for Wanda to keep walking. The facility obviously has some sort of signal jammer.

Not knowing how far it extends, she doesn’t stop until she has you under heavy cover. Trees block the snow from falling so heavily and small cave allows for some shield from the heat.

Once again she tries.“ Steve, we need evac and medical.”

“On it.”

Having his reply makes her give a relieved breath of air.

She runs her fingers through your hair, your head in her lap as you breath raggedly,“ I have to take a look at this y/n.”

You just barely nod.

As carefully as possible, she pulls your arm from the jacket, hating the way you hiss in pain with each movement. The back of your shirt is completely soaked in blood, letting her know exactly how much you’re bleeding.

The metal sticks out from your ribcage. You’re still breathing but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t hit your lung or any of the arteries around it,

“I’m sorry baby.” She says before tearing your shirt from the bottom to the top of the wound.“ Wanda, give me your scarf.”

Apart from slowing the bleeding, there’s nothing she can do. She wraps the scarf around shrapnel to catch the blood spilling from further.

You don’t make any sounds of complaint, which would’ve been good had you not been losing so much blood.

She’s quick to turn your head. Her eyes widen when she sees your shut eyes and she starts tapping your face.

“Y/n open your eyes.” You simply hum.“ I need you to wake up.” She taps a little harder and your eyes flutter.

They’re just barely open but they’re open.

On the other side of you, Wanda sits, hugging her knees to her chest. She’s blaming herself for this. You were shielding her.

“It’s cold.” You mumble, head nuzzling closer to Natasha’s body.

She nods,“ I know. Evac will be here soon.”

As if having heard her, Steve’s voice returns,“ Natasha, we’re having a hard time finding your exact location. There’s a storm in the way. We need you to stay right there.”

Natasha frowns, angrily pressing the coms button,“ she’ll bleed out before nightfall and you think we should stay? Are you stupid?” She snaps into the coms, panic masking itself as rage.

The man replies quickly,“ we’re working as fast as we can.”

“Doesn’t sound very soon to me.”

Somehow, while barely holding on to consciousness, you manage to make jokes. Natasha’s and Wanda’s laughs are short lived though as they notice your state worsening.

You start to sweat despite the cold, body shivering, as you fall unconscious.

Both women surround you, calling your name to wake you.

Wanda presses the button on the coms and tearfully begs Steve to do something. She knows there’s not much he can do but she can’t lose someone else.

As she speaks to the Captain, Natasha stays cradling your head on her lap.

“Please wake up lyubov moya. You promised me a vacation after this.” She’s freaking out and has to stop herself from rocking.

You’d taken to doing that whenever she had nightmares and it soothed her to sleep. She didn’t want to rock you and make you fall further into unconsciousness.

Her fingers trail down your arm, wrapping around your wrist to feel your abnormally weak. It’s then that a single tear rolls down her cheek.

“Y/n, detka, please.” She begs, hand rubbing your cold, clammy cheek.

There’s far too much for you two to do together for you to die. She wouldn’t be able to handle that.

She’d spent some many nights dreaming of a future with you. Dreaming of the day she makes you her wife. She can’t lose you.

She’s so lost in the thought of losing you she doesn’t hear the whirring of the jet’s engine.

“Natasha, they’re here.” Wanda shakes the woman from her own mind.

The medics move fast, running the short mile into the woods, getting you on the stretcher, and back to the jet.

Wanda and Natasha follow closely, rejecting the medical attention offered to them.

Brown and Green eyes watch every thing they do to you.

There isn’t much they can do in the jet but they replace the scarf with actual gauze, they hold the resuscitator to your mouth, pressing air into your lungs.

Neither woman leaves your side, that is until you’re pushed into the surgical room. From there they’re asked to wait outside.

Hope lies deep in Natasha’s heart. She’s never been religious but she’s praying. Begging whatever higher power there might be that you’re okay.

Wanda wraps her arm around the woman, giving the little comfort she can.

It’s no long from that point that Sam, Steve, and Bucky come down to the med bay. Sam is quick to ask questions, earning a slap over the head from Bucky.

Steve just sits on Natasha’s other side and holds her hand.

“She’ll be okay.” He sighs.“ She’s a fighter.”

That’s what it all rests on. You have to be a fighter or you won’t pull through. Or at least that’s what the doctor comes to tell them hours later.

None of them had moved but the second she steps out they’re standing in front of her.

She pulls her mask off and sighs,“ we removed the metal from her side, along with the remaining pieces of imbedded shrapnel. It managed to tear her lung but it wasn't too deep and we were able to stitch it up. We also stopped the internal bleeding cause by a severed vein. Had it been an artery she wouldn’t have made it so that’s good news.”

“Doc,” Steve stops her before she can speak again,“ is she okay?”

The doctor shrugs,“ right now she’s asleep. A self induced coma, her body’s way of getting her to rest and heal with out disruption. We’ve done everything we can. It’s all up to her now.”

"Can I see her?’

Natasha’s voice had never been so quiet, so soft. She’d barely been heard.

“Of course.”

Both women leave the team behind, walking through the med bay, and to the bed you lay in.

Natasha instantly hates seeing all those machines and tubs connected to you. But you still look as beautiful as the day she met you.

She sits in the chair beside your bed and clutches your hand in hers like it’s all that’s grounding you both.

“Please wake up. I need you.” She cries.“ I love you.”

******

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #asks #request

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anystalker707 · 3 years

Text

It’s not going to be alright

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 2 300 Genre: Angst, fluff, comfort TW: Anxiety attack, sort of Summary: (Y/n) brings Gerard to meet their parents. It doesn’t go as well as expected. Requested by @thegnotecannothurtusanymore a/n: I hope this is what you wanted and that you like it

"Do I look fine?" Gerard still sounds insecure as he stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket lightly while also checking his hair and makeup, turning his head from side to side slowly a few times. He repeatedly runs his fingers through his hair, a sharp sigh escaping his nose.

"Of course, you always do," I say with a smile, standing behind him and observing him through the mirror. "C'mon, you don't need to be so nervous. I don't even care if they don't like or approve you, this is just because they're curious about you." Wrapping my hands around his wrists, I pull his hands away from himself in an attempt of helping Gerard with calming down. He's already perfect.

"But... Still, what if they try to separate us?" To say Gerard is worried is a euphemism.

I push Gerard to sit down on his bed and place my hands on his shoulders. "Listen, they're just my parents, not me. It doesn't matter whether they like you or not. They can't control me the whole time. We can, dunno, run away if we need to, don't worry about it!" I smile in an attempt of cheering him up and it seems to work.

Gerard noticeably relaxes under my touch. He wraps his arms around me and brings me closer, his head against my abdomen.

"It's going to be alright, Gee," I tell him softly as playing with his hair. He nods hesitantly.

We've been together for around a year now and, from hearing so much about me having a boyfriend and never seeing him, my parents decided that I should bring him home for dinner. Gerard almost freaked out because of it at first, something I completely don't judge him for. He was desperate about finding formal clothes for the dinner, but I told him to dress... like himself, just a kinda formal due to the occasion, but not completely. There would be no point for him to dress up in something he is uncomfortable with and to pretend to be someone he isn't just for my parents. If they're going to accept him, they must accept him the way he is and the way I love him.

Not to mention that we wouldn't be able to sustain a lie for too long. It's relatively easy hearing rumors about Gerard – after all, there aren't many other punk kids in the city. Also, if they hypothetically liked him like that and called him over for dinner more often, it would be an even harder thing to maintain. He can't hide all the scars or wounds all the time neither lie about some of them.

"What time is it? Maybe we should get going," Gerard says as he reaches for his phone and checks on it without letting me move away. "Yeah, we should," he answers himself and looks up at me, smiling a bit.

Soon, we are in my car and heading over to my place. I had come over to help him with getting ready and just to make sure he wouldn't mess up with anything because of getting too anxious.

"It's going to be alright," I repeat myself before we leave the car. Gerard does his best to smile in response while nodding. We leave the car and move to the front door, where I reassure him once again by giving his hand a light squeeze then I walk in. "Hey, we've arrived," I call to my parents as Gerard closes the door behind us.

"We're over here in the dining room, dear," my mother's voice comes from the said place.

The table is nicely set, the trays and pans filled with food we usually just eat on Sundays or certain occasions, what makes me smile at the same time I see it. Gerard seems just as pleased, an also appreciative air over his features as he looks at everything, cheeks growing red when his eyes meet mine.

When I look at my parents, however, their reaction isn't in any way pleasing. They look at Gerard like if they were expecting gold, but were just given a cheap copy instead or something completely different.

"Um," Gerard breaks the tense silence, seeming to not really have noticed my parents' reaction. "I'm Gerard, Gerard Way. It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, looking at the two with nervous eyes. Well, now he's noticed it.

"Oh, so you're Gerard." The word sounds bitter coming from my father. He looks away, lips pursed and he doesn't make any effort in hiding his light displeasure. My mother takes the same path, a clearly forced smile decorating her lips as she slowly nods, drowning the room in awkwardness. I hate her for it. I mean, they don't even know Gerard yet.

A sigh escapes my lips as I just pull on Gerard's hand for him to sit down already as I do so myself, concluding my parents won't tell us to do it. Annoying. My parents do the same.

"Okay, so... Gerard," my mother speaks up first while everyone is serving themselves. He hums questioningly, smiling a bit. She continues. "Do you work? Do you do anything besides studying?"

"I actually don't need to work," Gerard replies, pushing his chair closer to the table after taking all the food he wanted. "I draw a lot in my free time and I've been trying to publish a comic."

Approval? No. The same displeasure shows itself on their faces, poorly hidden by fake smiles.

"Oh, that's... interesting," my mother breathes a chuckle, looking down at her food. Her chuckle sounds more of a 'look at how stupid he is' thing. Okay, okay, maybe I'm imagining things, right...? Let me avert my attention away from it.

"Gerard is excellent at drawing." I smile proudly and share a look with Gerard, who seems more relieved with my comment.

My mother makes an unconvinced face, but she doesn't have the opportunity to continue talking because my father speaks up next. "And you're off school soon, right? Have you already applied for any college?" He seems a bit more friendly than my mother, something I believe to be a brief impression due to how he's barely talked until now.

"Yeah, I've been accepted in the school of visual arts in NY," Gerard breathes with a proud air, already concluding how tiring it's all gonna be. In a social battery sense. The two will probably question Gerard until he walks out that door. It's going to be exhausting.

"Arts?" More reproval. My father raises his eyebrows amused after Gerard nods and my mother holds back a sigh, moving to sip on her glass of soda like if she can't handle it all. "That's peculiar, certainly. Something really difficult to get a future in, isn't it?" He says in clear mocking and looks at my mother. Look at this fool; I can practically hear them thinking. I don't know if it makes me angry or sad or both. Honestly, I already predicted things weren't going to turn out well, but this is just terrible.

"Like if Gerard would ever fail in anything while he's got so many talents like that," I roll my eyes. My comment goes ignored apart from how Gerard blushes and grins.

"Oh, but I've got a band in case anything goes wrong!" Gerard shrugs in a sudden wave of confidence.

"His band is awesome," I add. Ignored. Hah.

"A band!" A laughter comes from my father and my mother follows suit. They spend a moment laughing, but reality seems to hit them again before the fact Gerard and I remained in silent, both of us observing them in disbelief.

My mother shakes her head in dismissal as covering her mouth for a moment – at least making an effort, what seemed to be too hard to my father. "Erm, that's wonderful! Wonderful," she says.

A sigh escaped my lips at the thought I'll probably pull Gerard out of here myself soon if things continue like that.

Thankfully, some minutes into the dinner, we've got some peace, but all the evil comments and mocking continue right after. Sometimes my parents do apologize. Not genuinely, tho. For real, I feel like it would've been easier if they just got angry and kicked us out as soon as seeing Gerard or something instead of opting for psychological torture. I'm feeling attacked myself.

The dinner being over almost feels like a miracle to me – I quickly stand up from my chair and pull Gerard along with me.

"So, I'll be heading to Gerard's tonight. I'm spending the night at his place, like I promised," I say as giving his hand a light squeeze, running my thumb over his knuckles softly.

He seems really uncomfortable.

"Oh, you are?" My mother sighs, shaking her head to herself. "Okay then, just remember to come home. Love you, dear, see you," she says to me before she takes a good look at Gerard, then walks away to the kitchen with the dirty dishes in hands, not even bothering to tell him a goodbye or anything.

"Goodbye..." I mutter, starting to walk.

"G-Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. (l/n)! Thanks for the food and for receiving me," Gerard calls, the nervousness starting to show when we're about to leave the house. If I were him, I wouldn't even have said anything.

Feeling the cold night air embracing me is extremely relieving. Being away from the two is relieving. I'm still revolted about everything that has happened; it wasn't kind at all. I look at Gerard, worried. "Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah, sugar, don't worry," he reassures me. His words sound empty. I don't question.

Gerard tries to keep the tough posture until when we arrive to his place and we're already in comfortable clothes, lazing around on his bed. He's clearly not fine – you can notice it through how he acts, his glassy eyes, difficulty on keeping his focus... We will talk about it whenever he is ready.

At some point, my phone starts ringing. My mother. I sigh.

"I'll be right back, Gee, my mom's calling." I press a kiss to his cheek then leave the room and the house, heading to the back porch. It will be uncomfortable having anyone else listening to this while Mikey and Donna are also so nice to me.

"(Y/n)," the angry tone comes from the other end of the line as soon as I answer the call. "That boy is terrible. I'm sure you've noticed how we didn't enjoy him any bit. He's stupid, he's just got no future. You deserve something better, my love," her voice softens. "We just let you go over to his place because it would be impolite to not to after everything."

Ah, there it is. The hypocrisy.

"Well, and I'm sure you've noticed that I don't care about what you two think. You liked Gerard and everything I told you about him until you saw him. That's stupid. You guys didn't even allow yourselves to get to know him properly and already got like that." No, I've got no patience to deal with this. I groan to myself as leaning against the railing and observing what I can see of the back garden.

"We know that kind of people, okay? Trust us, you're not gonna-"

I hang up. And set my phone in the do not disturb mode. I'm not listening to bullshit about Gerard while he's so sweet and loving and...

Putting my phone away, I rub my face and try to get rid of the stress before walking back in.

Gerard is startled by me walking into the bedroom suddenly, eyes widening once they land on me while I close the door. It looks like he's been crying; eyes puffy and red, makeup smudged. "(Y/n)," he cries, reaching his arms towards me as I approach, "don't leave me, oh God, I love you so much. Without you I can't-" He interrupts himself with a sob, starting to cry again.

"I'm not going to leave you!" I sit beside him, pulling Gerard for a hug. I wipe his tears away before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I would never, I've told you! Their opinion about you isn't relevant to me! They don't know you like I do! I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that."

"Sorry," he sobs against my neck, arms wrapped tightly around me like if I would disappear if he let go. "I wish I was different, damn, I'm sorry."

It's always terrible when Gerard's anxiety attacks, but things seem to be going way worse now and I curse my parents for it. They had literally no reasons to have acted the way they did. Even if they dislike Gerard, everyone must be respected. Seeing Gerard like this hurts.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I rub soft circles into his back as continuing to hold him close, doing it for a few moments in an attempt of getting him to calm down. "Gee, Gerard, listen to me," I say once he's calmed down a bit and take a gentle hold of his face, making him look at me. "All that matters is us and nothing more. I don't care if my parents don't approve of our relationship or if the world does, I just care about us, if we are fine. And, of course, if you are fine. I hated that you needed to go through all of this, I'm so sorry." I press a kiss to his cheek, starting to run my fingers through his hair.

"Don't apologize, it wasn't your fault," Gerard says softly. He is silent for a moment before the tears start again and he buries his face in the crook of my neck again, clutching onto me tightly.

"Let it all out, Gee, it'll help you." I comfort him, pressing kisses to his neck and going back to rubbing his back. "I love you, okay? And that's all that matters."

#fanfiction #fanfic #mcr #my chemical romance #mcr imagine #gerard way #gerard way x reader #x reader #imagine #emo #bands #emocore #angst #fluff #oneshot #mcr x reader #writing #my post

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heejinnien · 3 years

Text

i.jaebum & p.jinyoung | crimson roses part one

word count: 3k

pairing: jaebum x reader x jinyoung

synopsis: when y/n’s sister is murdered, she’s forced to evaluate everything that she thought she knew.

genre: mystery, witsec au

warnings: the reader is in a club (they’re old enough to legally be there), murder, gore, imagery used to describe the reader tripping over and finding a dead body, probably incorrect portrayal of the witsec program, there’s a mildly disturbing nightmare

rating: pg-17

author’s note: this is part one of the walking on sunshine event! it focuses on summer beginnings. i was partnered with @dreamystuffers, and credits to them for the amazing moodboard! thank you @birbdae and ryan for being my beta readers. seriously, thank you for filling in all the spaces where i wrote blah blah

“I freaking hate Tzuyu.”

You groan, dropping your head in your hands. Sympathetically, the bartender slides a glass of water towards you, accepting the grunt that you emit afterwards as a sort of thank you. You pause in your wallowing to take a long sip of the icy liquid, feeling the pressure in your head lift slightly.

“Rough night?”

The bartender’s smooth, baritone voice carries over the loud sounds of the club’s music, and you wince at his words.

“Something like that.”

The bartender looks as though he’ll say more, but he’s cut off by the sound of a high, feminine voice ordering another drink. You’re grateful for the distraction, sliding a wad of bills over the counter and slipping off of the metal stool. You appreciate the kindness he has shown you, but you really need to start looking for your sister.

Slowly, you begin to weave through the throng of clubgoers, searching for anyone who moderately resembles your sister. You wince as an elbow connects with your stomach and bite back a curse when a heel stabs your toe. Still, there is no sign of your sister.

Pushing your way to the far side of the club, you lean against a wall, panting slightly, and pull out your phone. The LED at the top signals that nobody tried to call or text you while you were struggling to navigate a mob of drunk clubgoers, and a knot of worry tightens itself in your stomach. It’s been over an hour since you last saw your sister. She left you at a booth with a few of your mutual acquaintances to go dance, and you haven’t seen her since. Giving them an awkward smile, you had slid out of the booth to go sit at the bar. You were more polite to them because they were your sister’s friends than anything, and you know you hadn’t been imagining the awkwardness that had settled into the air once your sister had left.

You quickly swipe through your phone, silently praying that Tzuyu will answer and tell you she took a cab back to your shared apartment and she forgot to tell you, or that she’s actually been in the bathroom constipated this entire time.

“Hi, this is Tzuyu, I’m busy right now, which is why I didn’t pick up…”

With a groan, you turn your phone off. Pushing yourself off the wall, you weave your way to the bathrooms, opting to begin your second search there. Unsurprisingly, the small metal stalls are empty. You cringe as your shoe sticks to an unknown substance, exiting the bathroom and mind racing about where Tzuyu’s whereabouts could be.

A cool breeze winds itself around you, tousling your hair gently and you freeze.

A breeze?

You turn away from the rest of the clubbers, following the hallway deeper into the building. The further you go, the darker it gets, and a second chill sets upon you, one unrelated to the cool breeze.

Heart pounding, you turn the corner and see a cracked doorway. The soft light of the night greets you, and you feel a spark of relief. Maybe her phone died and your sister went out this door to leave. You quickly hurry out the door, pushing it open and turning down the alleyway.

You’ve only gone a few paces, pulling out your phone to dial your sister again when your foot collides with something hard. Your arms flail as you attempt to right yourself, but you go down, your elbow colliding with something soft and your chin colliding with the hardness of the asphalt.

Letting out a groan, you try to push yourself up by pressing your hands against the ground on either side of you, but they slip. Something wet and sticky coats your hands, and confusion fills you as you blindly reach around you for your phone. Your fingers connect with the cold metal, and you’ve scarcely turned on the device and activated the flashlight before you’re greeted with the mutilated body of your sister.

It takes you a second to register that the loud noise you hear is your own screaming.

You stare blankly ahead of you in shock.

Vaguely, you hear someone talking to you, but it’s like you’re underwater, all the sounds around you muffled. The image of your sister is frozen in your mind, your fingers trembling as you grip the blanket that someone wrapped around you tightly.

You think back to the last time you saw her, only a few hours ago, smiling and joyous and alive.

If she were here with you right now, she would have something comforting to say. She’d always been the more level of you too, somehow able to keep calm even in situations when you’ve felt panicked. But she’s not.

It should have been me, you think bitterly, rocking back and forth.

“Miss L/N.”

A hand settling on your arm causes you to jump and pull yourself out of your trance. Dumbly, you look at the hand, using it to trace your way up the unknown person’s wrist and arm until you can see their face. Concerned eyes stare back at you, and you force yourself to listen to what the unknown man is saying.

“I’m sorry to say this, but your clothes need to be bagged for evidence.”

You blink, unable to process the man’s words.

“Miss L/N, please. I know you want us to catch whoever did this to your sister, and we’re trying our best, but we need to bag your clothing as evidence.”

The mention of your sister clears the fog that has settled over you, and you nod. Weakly, you stand, following the man as he guides you to a restroom. He hands you a bag and a stack of clothes, instructing for you to change into the new set and bag the old clothes.

Robotically, you do as he tells you to until you’re changed into a sweater several sizes too big and a pair of jeans that cling to your legs tightly. You splash water on your face, staring at yourself hollowly in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, a foreign, hollow look in your eyes. Get it together, Y/N, you chide yourself. You can cry about this later. For Tzuyu.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you turn, exiting the bathroom with the bag of your old clothes in your hands. As soon as you exit, several furtive glances are sent your way. You furrow your brows in confusion, and a new, unknown man hurries over to you.

“Please follow me quickly, Miss L/N.”

“I don’t understand.”

The man doesn’t respond, hurrying you through the station and down a hallway until you’re stopped in front of a closed door. A plaque centered on the door reads “Sergeant Park.” Not wasting the time to knock, the man pushes open the door, taking the bag from your hands and ushering you in.

“Miss L/N, I’m so sorry about your loss.”

Hearing those words makes your throat tighten again, and you force your feelings down. You look around you, noting the awards adorning the walls around you. Two men stand inside the office, both wearing grim expressions. The one who spoke is seated behind the desk, and he stands, gesturing for you to take the free seat opposite him.

“There’s something we need to talk to you about.”

“My sister was a good person, she wasn’t mixed up in anything — ” You protest.

“That’s not what this is about.” The man opposite you, Sergeant Park, you assume, holds up his hand. “Time is crucial here, so please just listen to what I have to tell you.”

You nod, throat clogging from fearful anticipation.

“The Black Rose is the name of a powerful crime syndicate who’ve been running for the past few decades. We’ve tried our best to stop them, but they have connections everywhere.”

“My sister — ” You spring to your feet.

“Miss L/N. Please.”

You sink back into the chair, cheeks burning and thoroughly chastised. Once you’re seated, Sergeant Park continues.

“We’re not sure who all is involved with them, but what we do know is that they mark every kill, and they never kill without reason.”

Your thoughts race as you hear the unspoken words. “And my sister was marked,” you deadpan.

Sergeant Park nods grimly, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up within you. It dies instantly at the serious expression on Sergeant Park’s face.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Sergeant Park purses his lips, speaking slowly. “Until we know for sure, we need you to go into witness protection. We promise that we wouldn’t make you do this if we weren’t sure that your life is at serious risk. Mr. Im?”

Sergeant Park gestures to the other person in the room, who you assume is Mr. Im. Until now, he’s been silent, and you almost forgot that he’s here. He gives you a gentle smile.

“Please, call me Jaebum.” His tone is soothing, and you want to trust him. Still, you bite your lip, hesitant.

Sergeant Park speaks again. “Mr. Im will protect you the entire duration of the program. I promise that you’re in good hands. You guys will leave tonight.”

Alarm bells ring in your head. “Wait, tonight? I don’t understand. I still have finals, and what about my life here — ”

“Miss L/N.” Sergeant Park fixes you with a stern look. “I understand that things may seem intimidating right now, but I need you to do your best to do what we say. You could be a key role in this investigation, and Mr. Im is here to ensure that no harm comes to you. I know that this isn’t ideal, but please just let us protect you.”

You look from Sergeant Park to Jaebum. The latter gives you a reassuring smile, and your head still reels from all of the events of the night, but you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you breathe. “Okay, what do I have to do?”

“You keep twisting your bracelet.”

Jaebum’s voice pierces through your mindless thoughts and the dull monotony of the journey. You have been driving for the better part of the night, your thoughts still racing as you try to process everything. You look down at the bracelet Jaebum is talking about, and even though it’s dark you know what he’s talking about.

“My sister gave it to me,” you say simply.

“It must be pretty important to you, then,” he observes, eyes never straying once from the road.

“Something like that,” you say, assuming that’s the end of the conversation. Seconds later, Jaebum speaks again.

“Look, Y/N, I know that a lot has happened in one night — ”

“Please don’t,” you whisper, voice cracking. You clear your throat, staring out the window at the dark shadows of the landscape. “Don’t try to act like you understand how I feel. Twenty-four hours ago I was just a college student, and now…”

You swallow thickly, a lump forming itself in your throat.

“You are still just a college student, Y/N.”

“You know, aren’t you supposed to be using my new name?” You force yourself to change the topic, looking at Jaebum out of the side of your eyes.

Jaebum coughs awkwardly. “We aren’t there yet, and I thought that using your real name would make you more…comfortable with me.”

You scoff, but don’t speak. Awkward silence fills the car, interrupted only by the occasional sound of the night from outside your car window.

You remain like that for the rest of the ride. Everytime you think about saying something, you bury it, not wanting to show interest.

After a while, the road turns to dirt. The car bounces along the new road, and you can’t help but feel even further isolated from your old life. Jaebum pulls down a narrow driveway, and then the car stops, bathing a small cottage in the car’s light. Jaebum turns off the car’s ignition, and as you open the car’s door, you can hear the soft sound of waves crashing. Sand crunches beneath your shoes as you take in the sights around you.

You hear the sound of the trunk close, and seconds later Jaebum rounds the car, duffel bags gripped in his hands.

“This is it,” Jaebum says.

“I guess so,” you agree, exhaling nervously. You follow Jaebum up the cottage’s steps, hovering uncertaintly as he unlocks the front door. Following him inside, you squint against the bright yellow lights of the cottage.

You’re standing in a small living room. To your left is the kitchen and what you assume is the dining room, and to the right is a hallway. Jaebum leads you down the hallway, setting one of the duffle bags in front of a plain, unassuming white door.

“This is your room. Mine is right next to you.” Jaebum knocks goofily on the door in front of him, and you let out a short laugh.

“Okay.”

You grab your bag, pushing open the door to the room. You pause in the doorway, unsure. “Good night, Jaebum.”

A moment passes, and then you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Tzuyu! Where are you?”

You’re in a meadow, tall stalks of wheat reaching your shoulders. You frown, trying to remember how you got here, but you can’t. Alarm bells ring in your head, and you push through the stalks, searching for your sister.

“Tzuyu! Tzuyu! Where — are — you?”

Your voice is reflected back at you, distorted and garbled. Panic rises in you, bubbling hot like lava, and you begin to push through the stalks around you faster.

Finally, you stumble upon a clearing. A flock of birds takes flight, and your eyes scan the clearing, frantic. A body lies on the ground unmoving, and you run towards it. Deep in your gut you know who it is, but that doesn’t stop the gasp that leaves you as you clearly identify the girl lying there.

It’s Tzuyu.

The sight of her body makes you freeze, and before you can stop it you trip. When you regain your bearings, you’re back in the alley again. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and as you do Tzuyu’s hand shoots out, wrapping itself around your wrist. A scream gets choked in your throat as your sister sits up, smile stretching too wide for her face.

“Why didn’t you save me?”

“Tzuyu, you’re hurting me,” you cry, trying to pry your sister’s grasp from your wrist. She only holds on tighter, other hand shooting out and wrapping itself around your throat.

“Why didn’t you save me? Why didn’t you SAVE ME?”

A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you shoot into a sitting position, clutching the comforter you had admired just hours earlier against you. Your breathing is ragged, and dimly you hear heavy footsteps. Seconds later, harsh light floods your room and you throw your hand against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the intrusion.

Jaebum’s eyes are wild as he takes in your room, the way you’re sitting up, clutching the comforter against you. His muscles relax as he ascertains that you are physically safe, eyes softening at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, embarrassment beginning to seep through your previous horror.

“I’m sorry, had a nightmare.” You force yourself to laugh, the sound an octave too high to be believable. “You can just go back to your room, everything is fine.”

You swallow forcefully, staring down at the comforter and picking at a thread that has unwound itself from the careful stitching. Silently, you yell at Jaebum to leave. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand being mortified, discomfort seeping into the air around you.

After a long pause, you hear the gentle click of your door close. You don’t bother to look up, instead electing to close your eyes, sure that by the count of ten, he’ll be gone.

You’ve just reached eight when you feel your bed dip, and strong arms wrapping themselves around you. You stiffen, eyes snapping open to glare at the offender.

“You don’t have to treat me like a baby, I told you that I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to be weak you know.”

To your immense horror, you feel your eyes begin to well. You blink rapidly, trying to untangle yourself from Jaebum’s presence, but he holds on tightly. Before you can stop it, all of the emotions of the past twenty-four hours hit you, crashing against the gate that you had shoved them behind. The emotions you felt at your sister’s death, the emotional burden of having to suddenly end your old life and going into hiding suddenly become too much, and before you can help it tears stream down your cheeks. You gasp as you struggle to breathe, everything suddenly just becoming too much.

Time goes by without either of you realizing it, and neither of you know how long you remain in that position, Jaebum patting your back lightly as your grief pours out of you. After a few sniffles and swipes across your eyes you let out a groan, pulling away and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes.

“God, I can’t believe I just did that.”

“It’s okay, everyone has to let go of emotions at some point.” Jaebum gives you a gentle smile. “You should try to get some rest.”

“Will you stay with me?” Jaebum’s eyes widen, and you quickly scramble to backtrack. “I mean, you don’t have to — I don’t know what I was thinking — ”

“Of course I will.” Jaebum cuts off your ramble, smiling brightly. “I’ll just bring in a blanket from my room and sleep on the floor — ”

“You can share with me if you want. I don't mind; we both need a good night sleep, right?” You blurt quickly, panting slightly as you finish your question. Jaebum simply laughs, running a hand through his hair. He climbs onto the bed and lays on his side, patting the bed next to him. Shyly, you crawl next to him, laying down and trying not to think about the position you’re in too deeply.

Wrapped in the comfort of Jaebum’s warmth, you close your eyes, focusing on the gentle sounds of your breathing. A sense of tranquility washes over you, and you finally fall asleep.

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hellowkatey · 3 years

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Ghosts of the Past: the continuation

A continuation of what happens after Obi-Wan sees Nield twenty years after Melida/Daan. Anakin finds out his former master's rough apprenticeship beginnings, Obi-Wan faces some unexpected consequences of his past when Ahsoks gets hurt, and Nield addresses some regrets.

Read ch. 1 here | Read it all on AO3

Anakin is in the middle of combing droid parts and blaster dust out of his hair when there's a knock at his door. Considering Ahsoka is having a sleepover with Barriss, he just spoke to Padmé and she is at her apartment waiting for him, and Obi-Wan is supposed to be on a campaign, he has no idea who could be showing up at his door this late at night.

Watch it be a council member giving me some random task that'll ruin my night with Padmé.

The door buzzes open, and he's surprised to find it is indeed a council member ready to interrupt the night with his wife. The council member being Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Hello to you, too, Anakin."

"Aren't you supposed to be in the middle of a battle?"

It looks like he's just walked off the battlefield. His robes are dirty and singed in places where blasters blew right through the material. He at least took off his armor, but from the dirt still smeared across his cheek, that's pretty much all he's done. Anakin's confusion quickly turns into concern. It's unlike Obi-Wan to show up anywhere looking rough for wear, even if it's just to see him. The knight's worry raises as he realizes his master grips a handle of Corellian whiskey in his right hand.

"Ended the battle early," he says distantly. His eyes are a little glassy and cheeks tinged pink. "Are you going to invite me in or do you want your dinner in the hallway?"

"Dinner?" Anakin looks to his former master's other hand and realizes he's also holding two bags of Dex's take-out. "Oh. Right, sorry," he steps back, and Obi-Wan strides into his apartment.

He's acting weird. That as much is obvious. Anakin tries to brush up against his master's shields to get a feel for his mood, but they're tighter than usual. Another red flag.

"The 212th was granted a week of leave before our next campaign," Obi-Wan explains, setting down the bottle and bags on Anakin's table. Anakin slips into his usual chair as Obi-Wan sets a bag of food in front of him. "Their's starts tomorrow, but Cody took over the debriefing so I could make it back early." Obi-Wan sits now, unwrapping his own burger. He stops when he realizes Anakin is still staring at him, food untouched. "What, do you not order a double burger and curly fries anymore?"

"What's going on?"

The Jedi Master raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Can I not come visit my former padawan?"

"Are you seriously going to act like you aren't being weird right now?"

"I'm acting as I normally do, Anakin."

"You left the front early and you started drinking without me. What's wrong, Obi-Wan?"

Anakin expects him to get defensive. Expects him to turn on Master Mode and lecture him about respect or whatever. But instead, Obi-Wan sighs and sets down his burger.

"I want to tell you a story, Anakin. A story that..." his eyes flicker to the bottle of whiskey, "requires a little bit of loosening up on my end."

Somehow him being honest is more worrisome than if he did get defensive and lie about it. So Anakin stops arguing with him, nods, and goes to the kitchen. He takes the moment to send his wife a quick message that he would probably not make it over for the night since Obi-Wan needs some company. Padmé will understand. Anakin returns with two cups, one with ice and the other with ice and some cola. He hands the one with only ice to Obi-Wan.

"You're freaking me out," Anakin says as he adds a small amount of the whiskey to his soda. How the hell can he drink this stuff straight?

His former master smiles. "No need to freak out."

"What is it about?"

"Well if you allow me to speak—"

"Okay, okay. Let's hope this story lives up to the suspense you've created."

Obi-Wan grimaces, taking a long swig of his drink before clearing his throat. "When you were a padawan, you used to always ask me about what missions I was going on when I was your age. Do you remember?"

Anakin leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, but you never actually told me."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "No, I didn't, I know. I always felt bad about not telling you. You were quite the pouter. But I convinced myself that telling you about my early missions would do more harm than good."

"You're freaking me out again, Obi-Wan."

"Just listen. Before the war started, there was a rule that younglings had to be chosen by a Master by the age of thirteen. If not, the youngling was reassigned to one of the other Jedi corps."

"Okay..."

"In my case, I was assigned to the AgriCorps."

Anakin leans forward as disbelief courses through him. "Wait, wh—"

"I aged out," Obi-Wan interrupts, not meeting his eyes anymore. Instead, he stares out the window beyond Anakin. "Qui-Gon considered taking me as his padawan but decided against it. In his words, I had too much anger within me. So the Jedi reassigned me to the AgriCorps on Bandomeer."

Anger? Obi-Wan? "That doesn't make sense."

"It's what happened," Obi-Wan whispers. "I began as a Jedi farmer, and Qui-Gon coincidentally came to Bandomeer for unrelated Jedi business. That in itself is a long story, but I was captured and Qui-Gon came to save me. He then decided to train me."

"Obi-Wan why didn't you tell—"

"This is the preface of my story. So you understand the context of what happens later." Anakin leans back again, biting on the inside of his lip with nervous anticipation. If this is just the background, how bad can the actual story be? "So Qui-Gon and I did not start on a good note. He had no interest in training another student. His last padawan fell to the Dark Side... and was actually the one who captured me on Bandomeer. Needless to say, he was wary of me in the beginning."

"But he warmed up to you, right? You and Master Jinn were close when I met you guys."

Obi-Wan presses his lips into a thin line, finally looking Anakin in the eye again. "Eventually, yes. We found common ground and he grew to be like a father to me. But due to my actions, that did not happen for a few years."

He pauses, taking another sip of his drink, and then gesturing to the untouched Dex's bag. "Your food is going to get cold, you know."

"I know." Anakin ignores the food.

"We were sent on a mission to Melida/Daan," Obi-Wan continues. "It was a planet in the midst of a civil war. The Melida vs. the Daan. Or, so we believed. We were there to retrieve a Jedi that had failed to check-in. She was trying to negotiate peace between these groups, but we discovered it was not just the Melida and the Daan fighting one another. There was a third group. All the children from both sides had left their families and formed their own side. The Young, they called themselves, and their mission was to bring and end to this multi-generational war."

Anakin vaguely recognizes the name Melida/Daan from his history classes but remembers nothing else about it.

"We found the missing Jedi. She was hurt, so Qui-Gon was eager to return to the Temple. But the Young were pleading for our assistance. He told me we couldn't help them. I disagreed, and we had an argument. So he gave me an ultimatum. Either I come with him, or I stay to fight with the Young."

Anakin's eyes grow wide. "Master, you didn't—"

"I stayed."

"But he came back right? He dropped off his friend and came back to help you!"

The silence that falls over the room says what Obi-Wan doesn't. The Jedi Master resumes staring out of the window.

"I fought with the Young for nearly a year."

"How old were you?"

Anakin doesn't like the pause that comes before his master's answer. "Thirteen. Fourteen by the end."

"You were a kid," Anakin mutters in disbelief.

"I was, but... I was one of the eldest. There were seven-year-olds who were wielding blasters. Eleven-year-olds were dying in bombings. Friends that I loved dearly died in my arms, and other friends found ways to blame me for deaths I could not control." Anakin can see the tears brimming in his Master's eyes. His own hands are shaking.

"Qui-Gon did come, though, didn't he?"

"We were so close to peace, but we were only kids. Warfare and diplomacy require different types of decorum. I called the Jedi to help us finally end things. The council sent Qui-Gon."

Anakin deflates.

"We negotiated peace. This time I returned to the Temple with him, but he was not pleased with me. I had made almost all of his worst fears about taking another padawan come true."

"You didn't turn to the Dark Side or anything, though!"

"I left the Order, Anakin," Obi-Wan lets out a shaky breath. "The council was reluctant to accept me back, but thank the Force they did. Qui-Gon on the other hand... He took me on a whim, and when I defied him it was like a slap in the face. I was placed on probation while he decided if he was going to continue as my master. Evidently, he eventually did forgive me, but it was a long, painful road."

Feeling constricted in his seat, Anakin stands, pacing into the living room. He's learned so much information so quickly. That his master almost wasn't a Jedi? Obi-Wan Kenobi, council member and Jedi Master was almost a farmer? Qui-Gon Jinn left his thirteen-year-old padawan in the middle of a war for a year?

It doesn't make sense yet he can feel his former master's anxious energy clouding the Force. He isn't lying. Anakin turns to the man waiting quietly for him to say something. Though he has so many questions, the first that pops out of his mouth is: "Why are you telling me this now?"

"We had a diplomat make an emergency repair stop on my flagship just before this last battle. A representative from what is now Melidaan."

"The... unified planet, then?"

He nods. "His name is Nield, and I fought alongside him in the war. It was the first time I'd seen him since. It was also the first time in years I'd really talked about the war out loud, and... I realized I've been ignoring this for almost twenty years now. I avoiding telling you because I didn't want you to be disappointed in me like Qui-Gon was—"

"Master! Disappointed in you? I would never—"

"You are so much like him, you know," Obi-Wan says with a wistful smile. The glossiness in his eyes is even more prominent as the alcohol starts to settle in.

"You think I'd leave you in a war zone?"

A soft smile appears on his master's face, "Technically you have. On a number of occasions, actually."

"Those were sanctioned abandonments."

Obi-Wan chuckles, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "You have all his best qualities, Anakin. And some of his more annoying ones, but I've chosen to forgive those."

The knight walks over to the window with his back to Obi-Wan, arms folded across his chest. He's still overwhelmed by this new information. Unsure of how to feel. Sympathetic? No, Obi-Wan hates it when people pity him. Angry? He has the right to be frustrated that Obi-Wan has been lying to him for years. Letting him believe that he was this perfect padawan with a perfect apprenticeship...

But the overwhelming emotion that is hitting Anakin is not pity or anger, but guilt. Because a part of Anakin has always held onto the secret belief that things would be different if Qui-Gon Jinn had lived. That Master Jinn would have understood him in a way that Obi-Wan just can't because he was model Jedi.

He's been wrong all this time.

Anakin is suddenly thrust back to a time when he himself was a padawan feeling the galaxy pull him in a different direction. He told Obi-Wan he was going to leave the Order after their mission. And Obi-Wan still stayed by his side. Still treated him the same and protected him. It was ultimately Obi-Wan's unconditional support that persuaded Anakin to stay with the Jedi. Would Qui-Gon have done the same for me?

For the last ten years, Anakin has told himself that Qui-Gon would have stayed by his side. Now, he isn't so sure.

"I'm sorry," Anakin finally says, slowly turning around. Obi-Wan is quick to rise from his seat and approach him.

"I did not tell you this so you pity me—"

"I'm sorry I doubted you," Obi-Wan falls silent. "And for all the times I pushed you away because I didn't think you understood what it was like to feel like a screw-up... Force, I was horrible sometimes! Why didn't you ever tell me?"

The Master steps closer, placing his hands on Anakin's shoulders. "I truly did not think it would help. Or that you would think I was discounting your feelings, and I would never want to do that."

"What about your feelings?" Obi-Wan swallows hard, obviously not expecting this sort of question. He squeezes Anakin's shoulders, smiling softly.

"I am still learning how to confront them. And this— confiding in you— is part of that process."

Anakin can't hold himself back anymore. He closes the gap between them, throwing his arms around Obi-Wan and hugging him tightly. And Obi-Wan does not hesitate to hug him back.

There was a time when Anakin was a young padawan when he believed his Master was the greatest Jedi who ever lived. Sith Killer with a silver tongue, Obi-Wan Kenobi. A valiant knight and an even better teacher. He's always looked up to Obi-Wan. Saw him as a father figure. Though that giddy feeling of pride for his Master faded as he grew, Anakin feels it now just as he did when he was ten. Obi-Wan is by no means the perfect Jedi he's always believed him to be, but Anakin prefers it that way. Somehow it makes him even better.

______

Waging battles in desolate landscapes was one thing, but when the fighting spreads to urban areas, Obi-Wan is always on edge. There is something fundamentally wrong with tearing through the middle of a city with tanks and cannons. It's so easy to distance oneself from the reality of war. Easy to see the tall buildings and duracrete streets as either cover or a tactical liability. Obi-Wan just sees family homes left vacant. Stores and restaurants ransacked and abandoned. The amount of desolation depends on the length and amount of resistance the locals put up against their Separatist occupation.

And this city has been under the thumb of the droid army since the beginning.

Tesha Prime was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nestled in the middle of Separatist-controlled planets, it stood no chance of maintaining its independence. It's estimated they were under secret occupation as early as the Trade Federation blockade of Naboo, but their pleas for assistance were stifled until recently.

Obi-Wan one came to Tesha Prime as a padawan. One of Qui-Gon's side missions-- he enjoyed their specialty textiles and made a detour to purchase a friend a throw blanket. Its capital of Taloona was a beautiful city, advanced in technology but maintained the vintage glamor and elegance of their Old Republic architecture. Walking the streets now, it pains his heart to see crumbled buildings and durasteel military structures taking over the once picturesque skyline. War has tainted the rich history of this planet. Basically erased it. As the Jedi General moves swiftly through the waves of droids, diverting blaster shots from his valiant soldiers trying to free this city, he cannot help but be reminded of Melida/Daan.

Melida/Daan was an urban planet much like Tesha Prime. Completely different in their architectural inspirations and cultures, but violence does not discriminate. Rubble looks the same no matter what it used to be. He remembers Melida/Daan in the hastily painted graffiti urging for resistance against their aggressors. In the sound of bombs causing duracrete walls to collapse. In the yells of pain and the shouts of orders as medic clones traverse the battlefield to pull their fallen brothers out.

Obi-Wan grimaces, biting on his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood.

Seeing Nield and telling Cody and Anakin about his early exposure to war has brought about an unexpected consequence. Remembering. The nightmares of seeing Cerasi's murder and holding children as their life Forces faded away plagues his nights. Sometimes he will awake with a start, his first instinct to reach beside him where Nield used to sleep an arm's length away. When he doesn't feel a warm presence nearby, Obi-Wan begins to panic until he turns on the light and realizes he is not in the barracks of the Young, but in his quarters aboard his star destroyer. He's not thirteen, he's thirty-six.

Try as he might, though, the memories of his youth are not leaving him alone. He's been distracted by the flashes of Melida/Daan in battle before, but Taloona is messing with his mind more than usual. The city air smells the same. The wrecked streets feel the same beneath his boots. Obi-Wan is just thankful that his training allows him to shove his anxiety aside. He releases it into every moment of calm he can find. He must stay on his game for his men. For the people of Taloona and Tesha Prime.

But it's a shrill gasp of pain exploding through the Force that makes Obi-Wan tunnel. He whirls around from his place atop a fire escape and can see Ahsoka on street level with the 501st's battle route. Her eyes wide and arms wrapped around her chest as her knees buckle and she falls to the ground. The air leaves his lungs as though he's been punched.

"Ahsoka!" he yells as he leaps from the fourth story of the fire escape. The 501st has begun to regroup to compensate, Rex barreling through the crowd to reach her. Obi-Wan gets to her first, pulling himself between her and the front line and tucking her into his lap.

She's so small, he realizes. So young. Barely older than I was.

"You'll be okay," Obi-Wan says, cradling her head in the crook of his arm. He blinks and there's blood everywhere, dear Force, where did this blood come from? He presses his hands to the center of her chest where the blood seems to be pouring out.

"Obi-Wan?" the voice calling his name is distant, but he ignores it. I need to stop the bleeding. He squeezes his eyes shut to keep himself from vomiting.

"Do you hear me? You'll be okay, Cerasi," he whispers.

"Master Obi-Wan?" Louder this time. Closer. A warm palm rests against his cheek and when he opens his eyes Ahsoka is staring up at him with deep concern laced in her features.

She's awake? That can't be! The blaster shot... the blood... No, there is no blood. There never was. Ahsoka is lying in his arms, a scorch mark on the breastplate of her armor, but it didn't go all the way through. He blinks through the tears in his eyes. This is not Melida/Daan. I'm not there anymore. I'm thirty-six, and the war is over. This is the Clone Wars. Ahsoka is Anakin's padawan. I'm not thirteen. Melida/Daan is at peace. Nield is alive and well.

"General?" Another voice. He looks up and realizes he isn't alone. Captain Rex is giving Ahsoka a stim, glancing up at the High General every so often. Cody kneels next to his brother, more focused on Obi-Wan as reality slowly creeps back. Though he cannot see his face beneath his helmet, he can feel Cody's patient understanding. These men unfortunately know the look of someone lost in a time other than the present. And Cody is one of the few that knows exactly where his mind has gone.

"General Kenobi, are you alright?" Cody attempts to get his attention again. This time Obi-Wan nods, trying to relax the tension in his muscles.

"Yes... of course," he looks down at Ahsoka who's hand slips from his cheek. It reminds him too much of the way Cerasi's hand dropped like dead weight as her heart stopped. He shakes away the memory. The stim is setting in, clearing the cloudiness of shock from her eyes. "Are you alright young one?"

"Yes, Master Kenobi, it just surprised me. It's a good thing I had on armor for this battle."

Obi-Wan swallows thickly. The Young never had real armor. On such small bodies and without adequate medical attention, nearly every hit was a lethal one. He smiles, slowly sitting her up. "A very good thing indeed."

The battle felt like it droned on for days. Perhaps because a rotation on Tesha Prime is thirty-four hours. Or because Obi-Wan completely immersed himself in the Force, letting his instincts take charge over his mind. Obviously, his mind was not to be trusted. He's just thankful his brief blur into the past didn't cause more of a scene.

Obi-Wan walks through the aftermath now. The shooting and the bombings have ceased, but sometimes silence isn't any better than the sounds of war. At least focusing on the battle kept his mind occupied. Now he buries himself in his cloak, tucking his hands away so nobody can see they're still shaking.

"Master Kenobi?" the voice is soft, unimposing. Obi-Wan turns to find Ahsoka standing a few paces away. She's out of the armor now and in her usual clothing. Like Obi-Wan, her cloak is draped around her as the night finally settles in to cool the heat of the day. Despite the scare from earlier, she looks unharmed.

But she looks younger than Obi-Wan usually notices her to be. Maybe it's the too-big cloak that swallows her lanky adolescent figure. Or the timidness on her face that is not characteristic of his grand padawan.

"Yes, Padawan? How are you feeling?"

She catches up to him and matches his pace. The Togruta shrugs.

"Tired. A little sore, but Kix says none of my ribs are broken. Just a little bruised."

"And Anakin, have you seen him yet?" Anakin took charge of the air raid, leaving Ahsoka to command the troops from the ground. Obi-Wan hasn't run into him yet, but he expects his former padawan to come looking for him once word gets around about Ahsoka's close call and Obi-Wan's... strong reaction.

Ahsoka shakes her head. "No, but he commed me. The fighters are just going to go back to the hangers. The battle went on for so long they need to refuel."

Obi-Wan pinches the hairs on his chin. "Of course, smart of him. No need to waste fuel to land and take off again," he glances over at the padawan with a playful smirk. "Though don't tell him I said he was smart. After the stunts he pulled in the air, the last thing he needs is an ego boost." The padawan chuckles softly, but her smile fades quickly. They walk in silence for a few moments before Obi-Wan rocks into her to nudge her to the side. "I can tell something is troubling you, young one."

"Master Kenobi... who is Cerasi?"

Obi-Wan's own smile disappears. "Where did you... hear that name?"

"You called me Cerasi... when I was shot. I didn't even realize it at first, but I remembered and... I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to tell me, I was just curious--"

"It's alright Ahsoka," he stops her rambling, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. They stop walking in the middle of a market square and he leads her to sit on the edge of a large fountain. It has long run dry and is half-decimated, but it is a place to stop. "Cerasi was a good friend of mine. And she... was hurt in a very similar way to you, but unfortunately, she did not have armor to protect her."

"So she's..."

Obi-Wan nods.

The padawan exhales shakily, her fingers brushing against the place the blaster would have hit her. "Were you... there when it happened?"

He nods. "I was."

Her hand rests over his and she squeezes his fingers. "I'm sorry about your friend, Master Kenobi."

"It was a long time ago. I'm not sure why I said her name."

"It happens. Sometimes I almost accidentally call you Master Skywalker. Or I call Anakin Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan smiles. "Oh, I bet he hates it when you do that."

"I keep telling him it's a compliment but he doesn't want to hear it."

They both laugh. Obi-Wan lets the peace and lightness of the moment settle around his body like a warm blanket. While he hates the fact that padawans are fighting in this war, he also loves their resilient presence. Ahsoka never fails to make him feel better, even when she isn't actively trying to.

"I'm glad you're okay, Ahsoka. Though I will be more insistent you wear that armor from now on. We can send your measurements to have you properly outfitted in gear that won't hinder your saber technique."

"But Master, then I won't have a good reason to not wear it."

"But it'll make your Grandmaster worry about you less."

Ahsoka sighs dramatically. "In that case, I guess I could learn to work around it."

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and tucks his hands back into the sleeves of his cloak. "I swear, you and Anakin are going to be the death of me one day."

"Not if you wear your armor, Master," she says with a wry smile. Ahsoka glances at her comm and stands.

"Is Anakin asking where you are?"

"Rex. I told him I'd help with the med evacs," her blue eyes flicker up. The universal silent plead for dismissal.

"Go on," the general nods.

"Are you sure you're okay, Master Kenobi? I can tell Rex I'm sitting with you."

He stands and places a hand on her shoulder. "I am. We can talk more after dinner."

Ahsoka smiles and takes off running back toward the evac zone. Her cloak billows behind her as she disappears around the corner. The Jedi Master exhales a deep breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

_______

Nield, two drinks already warm in his belly, walks into the quiet cantina with the perfect amount of confidence to get through what he's about to do. It doesn't take long for his gaze to rest on the two cloaked figures seated at the bar. Before he can convince himself otherwise, the diplomat crosses where the two men are seated.

When he ran into Obi-Wan Kenobi two standard months ago, Nield was shocked at how the scrawny Jedi had changed after so many years. While it should not have been a surprise— he himself had changed quite a bit as well— in his head, Obi-Wan was still a thirteen-year-old with a horrible haircut and a pretentious amount of self-importance. (Nield has been to enough therapy since his warring days to realize his hatred of the young Jedi was a lot of his own projection. It did not change the way his mind remembered the boy that was once his companion.)

But alas, Kenobi grew up into a Jedi Master and a High General. When they spoke those months ago, Nield congratulated him on achieving his Jedi rank. They spent many nights during the war talking about the people they wanted to become once the fighting was resolved. Nield remembered Obi-Wan's anxieties over whether or not he would try to return to the Order that left him behind.

He questioned the second rank he had achieved, though. High General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Nield wasn't questioning his qualifications— Kenobi was a natural-born leader, even as a kid. There was no doubt he excelled at his position. What he questioned was why. Why would he want to take on that role again?

That led to a much longer explanation. One that Nield walked away deciding the answer his old friend was avoiding was simply: I did not want to go to war again, I had to.

Obi-Wan, of course, had the same question for him. Travel the galaxy was his previous answer to the question: who do I want to be when I'm not fighting a damned civil war? It wasn't what he told the others of The Young, but a secret desire he confided in Obi-Wan while they chatted to keep one another awake on watches. Nield wanted to be a nomad. He wanted his home to be among the stars rather than a planet or civilization.

"And you became a representative for the very planet you wanted to put behind you forever," Obi-Wan had said with the same smugness Nield gave him.

"I do get to travel."

"I suppose. But it isn't living among the stars."

They ended the night with the conclusion that they both failed their childhood dreams in some ways. But what is adulthood, if not living to find things to regret?

For Nield, he ironically walked away from his reunion with Obi-Wan with new regrets. Which is what brings him to this random cantina on Keitrum.

He doesn't need to try and get the attention of the Jedi General— as he approaches, Obi-Wan Kenobi's stool swivels around. There's confusion in his tired eyes and furrowed brow, and then he relaxes, a small smile on his lips.

"What a surprise," he muses, causing his companion to also turn around. Nield recognizes the shaggy dark hair and piercing gaze of General Anakin Skywalker almost immediately. "What brings you to Keitrum, old friend?"

"Definitely not the same reasons as you," Nield says tightly, eyeing the armor they were keeping hidden beneath their billowing robes. Well-used armor, tainted with dried blood and oil stains. Obi-Wan is clad in a more complete ensemble of shoulder, chest, arm, and leg pieces, while the younger General appears to only sport the shoulder and chest armor. Oh, the false security of youth. They look as though they came straight from the battlefield to grab a celebratory drink. Nield suspects that is exactly the case.

"Friend of yours, Master?" Skywalker says, curious eyes flickering between the two of them.

"Something of the sort," Obi-Wan replies, leaning back so they can see one another. "Anakin, this is Nield, a Representative of Melidaan. I met him—"

"When you were part of The Young?" The wide-eyed General finishes, suddenly looking his age. Nield raises an eyebrow at Kenobi. So you told him after all.

"Yes, we... fought together."

"And against one another," Nield adds.

"Yes, that too, I suppose."

Nield settles down on the opposite side of Kenobi and listens as he explains to the young man the nature of their... history. Though Obi-Wan gives him a charitable amount of leeway and understanding for his actions, Nield can't help the guilt that builds as the story goes on.

Especially as Skywalker keeps looking his way with increasing outrage and obvious protectiveness over his former Master.

"...after Cerasi... died," Obi-Wan says in a softer voice. "we had very different approaches on how to proceed."

"You wanted revenge?" Anakin asks Nield with off-putting intensity. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"I was angry," he glances at Obi-Wan. "I thought about it a lot, though. How the people who killed her needed to pay. Obi-Wan had to help me get out of that mindset. It wasn't what she would have wanted."

Now it's Obi-Wan's turn to look surprised. They'd avoided recounting the specifics of the war when they last talked, and that's exactly what Nield regretted. He never got to tell Obi-Wan he's sorry for the way their friendship splintered back then. The war, the death— it changed him for the worse. It aged his soul, made his heart turn to stone. It took many, many years to come back from the shell of a person he became.

"We were kids," Obi-Wan whispers, a creak in his tone.

"I'm still sorry. You did nothing but help us when nobody else would. You were always one of us, no matter what I said as a punk kid. You were one of us, and honestly, the best of us. Your name still comes up among those of us that remain."

The Jedi Master stares at him for a long moment before staring down at his drink as he swirls it. Skywalker assumes being a wallflower, switching between fiddling with the commlink on his wrist and monitoring his Master's facial expressions.

"How many?"

"About half from when we last saw you." A moment of silence. Nield lets out a breath and then continues. "Not all gone, just not living on Melidaan anymore. They attended university. Traveled. Got married and moved away."

Neither say it, but he knows they both are thinking it. We fought so hard for a peaceful home. Leaving seemed like a dishonor to those who died with the dream of growing old on the land they left their family for.

But Obi-Wan left too. And Nield does not actually blame him nor anyone else for leaving.

"I hope they're well."

Skywalker's hand suddenly clasps Kenobi's shoulder. "Ahoska and the men are here. I'm gonna go tell them to put their drinks on your tab."

"Anakin, don't you dare, the accounting department was so angry with me last time!" he calls after him, but the young General has already disappeared into the thickening crowd. Obi-Wan sighs and looks back at Nield who can't help the amusement on his face.

"So that's Anakin Skywalker."

"In all his glory, yes."

"He reminds me of you as a kid."

"Oh Force, don't tell him that. I'll never hear the end of it."

Nield laughs. "I'm glad I got to meet him. Put a face to your stories."

"I take it meeting my former padawan is not the reason you have come out of your way to find me. Nor is this the coincidence you make it out to be."

"Perceptive as always. I just realized we skirted around the obvious when we last spoke. Pretended that I didn't alienate you from the Young after you devoted everything to help us."

"Like I said earlier, we were kids, Nield."

"And like I also said earlier, I'm sorry. That's why I wanted to see you again."

Obi-Wan smiles, holding out his hand. Nield shakes it. "I'm sorry too, old friend. I'm glad we got to see one another again because I needed to thank you. You and one of my officers convinced me to finally tell Anakin about the war."

"How'd he react?"

"Better than I anticipated. But now every free moment has turned into storytime."

Nield recalls the few fond moments of the war when Obi-Wan would sit in the center of the room and tell all the younger kids a bedtime story. An attempt to thwart the nightmares away. "You were always good at telling stories."

"Apparently so. I usually draw quite an audience."

"It helps though. Talking about it. Doesn't it?"

The Jedi General nods. "For the most part. Though I see our war everywhere, now."

"The dreams?" Nield asks. Obi-Wan frowns. That's a yes. "The war can't be helping. Every time a speeder backfired I thought I was..."

"Back there again," The Jedi finishes for him. "Yes... Our recent terrestrial battles have not been helping."

Nield cannot imagine what it must be like to be back in the middle of a warzone. The fact the galaxy is at war at all was enough of a trigger for the flashbacks to his youth. It's why he takes his duty as a representative so seriously. He will do anything and everything to keep his home away from this conflict.

But his friend does not have that luxury. Nield waits for Kenobi to meet his eyes again.

"It still affects me, too. Bad days come out of nowhere. No matter how many times people tell me 'recovery isn't linear' it still surprises me. But before I knew it, I had more good days than bad and even the bad days didn't compare to what they used to be. It'll get better, Obi-Wan. I promise you it will."

Obi-Wan holds his stare. He's harder to read now than when he was thirteen, but Nield can still recognize the look in the Jedi's eye when he trusts someone. Though Nield doesn't feel he deserves this trust, for Obi-Wan's sake he's glad he's willing to listen.

"I will remember that," the Jedi says softly. "Thank you."

Nield raises the drink that was placed before him at some point. Obi-Wan does the same. The words come tumbling out before he can think of anything else to say. "To our brothers and sisters in the trenches... and the pursuit of peace."

The chant feels acidic on his tongue.

"We fight for our future, and the lives those who have died deserved," Obi-Wan continues. He hasn't forgotten it either.

"To unity."

"To freedom."

"To the Young," they say together, voices barely carrying beyond the space between them. Their cups clink together, and for a moment they're back in the lookout station. Kenobi, Nield, Cerasi, and half a bottle of red wine they found when pillaging an abandoned home for supplies. They didn't actually drink the wine-- it was obviously rancid. But that cheer they made up between giggles and dares to taste the sour beverage became their battle cry.

He tries to sip his brew but it tastes like that damn expired wine. For some reason, that makes him smile. Somehow the moments Nield cherishes the most lie among the worst points of his life. Perhaps because Cerasi never made it past the war to record over the old memories with new ones. Perhaps because Obi-Wan disappeared before Nield could come to his senses.

But for some reason, he's been granted another chance. Nield isn't sure what he did to deserve such a gift, but he'll accept it. Kenobi sits next to him, washing away the bittersweet chant of their youth with a brew.

Another survivor, and now, a friend once again.

#ghosts of the past #anakin #jedi apprentice #melida/daan #if you saw this saying im gonna post it in 3 parts no you didn't #i figured out the problem

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

Mominette AU: The Superhero Ban

TRIGGER WARNING!

___________________________________________

It was an indisputable fact that Paris had been the first city to institute the infamous “Supers Ban”. The Justice League knew it. Heroes knew it. Villains knew it. The whole world knew it.

What nobody knew was “why”.

Sure, there had been comments in political circles. Some minor news outlets had mentioned Paris as the latest place where the idea was being considered. But nobody had thought they were serious.

Not until it had been made into law and the Mayor of Paris held a press conference to announce it.

Those who didn’t take it seriously certainly did when Superman himself attempted to go to the Mayor to discuss the matter. And was promptly arrested the instant he set foot in the city.

Outrage was immediate. Cries of discrimination rang out across the world and even at the UN. Various politicians decried the act. Many celebrities admonished it. A good number of people threatened to boycott Paris (which turned out to be for the best as far as Andre and most of Paris was concerned, given that a decrease in tourism meant less people for Hawk Moth to target or the heroes to have to pull out of the fray due to gawking).

Yet a year passed and the ban remained. Even the League would not cross it. Eventually, it just became an accepted fact of the world. Everyone knew to stay out of Paris.

And yet it was still unknown as to why.

Well, people suspected, of course. There were other things happening around the time that seemed to be involved.

It possibly started with the 12 hour timeframe where all of Paris had been closed off. Its citizens had been forced to evacuate. All communication lines were down, and no one from outside of the city had been able to contact anyone from within it. It was news stations in nearby cities that picked up on the fighting and tried to report it, but only several hours after it had started and they seemed to play it off as some sort of freak lighting storm.

Afterwards, things had been strange, but also easily overlooked. The Ladyblogger had gone dark for a several day period. Similarly, the regular correspondent for Paris News, Nadja Chamack had taken a leave of absence. Resident hero Chat Noir had suddenly gotten involved in matters with City Hall, resulting in talk of the hero going into a career in politics. “Chat Noir for President” became a short-lived meme.

It all appeared to come down to a specific “incident”. An akuma fight worse than any other before it. But no one would speak of it. And no information about it was available.

Except for one thing.

There were reports of the existence of video footage of the fight. The Ladyblog had supposedly crashed during a livestream of the mess due to the number of people watching it. Plenty of news reports during that time referenced it. It was rumored to have been played before the city council, resulting in unanimous support of the ban. But what was on the video remained a mystery and any remnant of the video itself couldn’t be found.

Which shouldn’t be possible with the internet. Conspiracy theories abound on the matter—some saying there was no footage in the first place and others saying it was so horrible as to have been erased by time traveling aliens.

In truth, it was the work of a hacker. One of considerable skill to wipe out any trace of this video and not be discovered. There were people willing to pay millions just for a segment of the footage. Plenty of hackers across the world had tested their skills to find even a trace of the original video to no avail.

These other hackers were not Robin.

“I got the footage.” He announced as he held up the USB drive.

Superbly started in surprise, staring at the item in the Boy Wonder’s hand. “This is it?”

“Supposedly.” Robin replied with a shrug.

The Holy Grail of hidden data. A hacker’s ultimate prize. Every journalist and tabloid reporter’s wet dream.

“I haven’t watched it myself,” as he felt it wasn’t his right to intrude on this when it was an issue of his friend’s family, “so I don’t know what’s on there. But whatever’s in this, it’s safe to say it isn’t going to be pretty.”

That was putting it lightly. The video had been so deeply hidden that it was its own urban legend at this point. The incident it showed was bad enough to not only warrant it being hidden from the world, but to set off the “Paris Supers Ban” and arrest of Superman.

The death of a hero was always big news. Even if it’s only barely avoided.

The fact that anyone could HIDE it spoke volumes. Both in regards to the original censor’s ability as well as the importance of the data itself.

Conner nodded, resolute.

“I need to know.”

Robin handed over the device. He probably should have taken it to Batman…probably. But this was Conner’s case. His family. It was his right to decide what to do with the information.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were…accepting of Conner to say the least. They allowed him to enter Paris despite the ban. They let him help. They were kind and accommodating and quite frankly everything that Conner needed.

But…they weren’t exactly open. Not about certain things.

This was one of those things, and Conner had been wanting answers about the “Incident” that cut Paris off from the Superhero world. What made them finally say “enough”? He would ask, but nobody knew. The few who did know refused to speak of it.

Conner wanted to know why. What had they experienced that was so horrible?

Maybe it was a way of feeling closer to them?

Maybe it was a way to understand them better?

Maybe it was just wanting to see the harder things they had faced?

“We’ll be right here with you, Conner.” Wally reassured him when his hands started to shake.

“Remember, you’ll have full access of the gym and training grounds, but you won’t be allowed to leave the Mountain for 24 hours after this.” Kaldur gently stated. Partly to remind Conner of the agreement, lest he attempt to run off to Paris in anger or fear and risk an akuma. Partly to subtly prompt everyone else to ensure that Conner does not accomplish the former.

Still…the choice was already clear.

Conner put the drive into the computer and pressed play.

The video only lasted a few minutes.

A few minutes was more than enough.

_______________________

“Oh…oh my god.” Came the words of the person recording, her voice as shaky as her hands that held the camera.

The damage was…extensive. Rubble, broken glass, and downed buildings littered the background. There was a sad mix of gray and brown as far as the eye could see. Of the destroyed roads and pavement. Of steel beams littering the ground. Of rock and dirt and what may very well have been ash.

Amidst the ruined landscape, there was one spot of color. A bright red standing out amidst the muted neutral around her. Normally a source of bravery and inspiration, it took a few seconds for the camera to get her properly in focus, and a few more for it to register that there was significantly more red in the scene than there should have been.

Ladybug wasn’t standing so much as she was leaning backwards in a half-upright position. Forced to stay on her legs despite her clear lack of strength. The only thing holding her up were the very things responsible for her current state…three steel spikes that extended from the ground beneath her.

They were exiting her torso. One piercing the upper left part of her body, right close to her shoulder. One through her naval. And the third on the right side, for all purposes appearing to have hit a lung.

She was breathing, though it was clearly labored. She was constantly torn between some variation of taking a gasping breath in and crying it out. Her suit could protect her—it was supposed to protect her from anything, but even this was too much.

It was clear she couldn’t move. She had to remain there, impaled on steel. Both to limit her injuries as much as possible and just due to inability from the sheer pain she was in.

The camera was focused on her, though it was shaky at best. The person recording it could be heard muttering unintelligibly with some mention of a hospital and frequent repetition of “oh god” thrown in. Some noise could be heard in the background of someone sounding quite ill, which was understandable given the sight of their hero impaled and choking on her own blood.

Within a minute of the video starting, the crunching sound of boots running on glass and stones could be heard coming closer. The sound of panting grew louder as Chat Noir cleared a hill and entered into view, rushing and stumbling towards Ladybug while holding something in front of him.

The camera zoomed on him, bringing him into focus as he cleared the last hurdle.

“I’ve got it!” Chat exclaimed, racing back to her side with her yoyo in hand. “I’ve got it! It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over now. It’s finished. He’s done.”

“Sh…Ch…” Her head hung limply and her eyes were barely able to focus on him as he tried to get her to look at him without moving her too much.

“It—It’s okay! It’s going to be okay!” He whispered to her, so softly that the camera barely caught it. He was clearly panicked and trying desperately not to let it show. “We just need the Cure. If you cast the Cure, everything will be better, okay?”

She didn’t appear to be listening, though. And barely seemed aware of anything. “Ch-ck…Chaaa…”

The video zoomed in on them both. Ladybug dazed and bleeding out. Chat crying and trying not to break down completely.

“Please! I just need you to say the words! Say the words and you’ll be okay! Can you do that?”

“Huurrr…s…” She slurred, begging him without words for help.

“I know! I know! But you can fix it. C’mon, M’lady, please!”

“I…I cn…”

“Say the words. Just two words, okay?” He begged desperately, patting her cheek in an attempt to both soothe her and keep her attention on him. “Two words and then you can go to sleep, I promise.”

“Ch…a…”

“Just…just two words, that’s it! I’ll…I’ll even say them with you, okay?”

She winced. “Nn…”

She clearly wasn’t listening, but he was desperate and so started to try. “Miraculous—”

She sobbed.

“No, no. Listen to me, okay? Say it with me!” He ordered, forcing her to look at him. “Mi. Say it with me! Mi!”

“M…mi…”

“Racu!”

“ra…” Her gaze started to waver.

He shook her. “Cu!”

“…cu…lous…”

He gave a weak laugh. Even now she was ahead of him. “Ladybug.”

“La…laa-deee…”

He shook her again. “LADYBUG!”

“……b…u—gahck-ugh—" She was cut off by harsh coughing.

But it was enough.

Thank every god out there it was enough.

The Cure spilled out from the object she was holding, transforming into magical ladybugs that covered everything in their wake. Unfortunately, the casting of the Cure and incoming loveliness caused the person holding the camera to drop it, losing sight of the video and cutting the feed.

_______________________

The ringing of her phone got Marinette’s attention, drawing her away from the movie she was watching with Adrien and the Dolls.

“Hello?”

“Miss Ladybug.” Came the voice on the end. “This is Aqualad.”

She blinked in surprise. “Aqualad? Is everything okay?”

“Yes…just…” The sound of angry whispers could be heard on the other end. “Would you be able to come speak with Conner today?”

Marinette frowned at that. While she certainly enjoyed seeing Conner, that…didn’t sound like a good thing. If anything, it sounded like a plea. And the voices that sounded like an argument in the background only made it sound worse.

“Is everything okay?”

Adrien seemed to notice the concern in her voice as he had stopped paying attention to the movie to focus on her. In turn, Chaton was peeking over the couch at her, curious as to what was going on.

“No. We found a recording of something…personal to you. Conner saw it and now he’s rather upset. We think it might help if you were here.”

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed. This definitely got the attention of the other dolls, all of whom had abandoned the movie in favor of checking on their Mama.

Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly full Mom mode was on.

“Aqualad. Tell me right now what happened.”

And Kaldur caved immediately with only a small sigh.

“Robin found the video of the akumatized hero who attacked you and instigated the events leading to the Paris Ban.” He explained. “I apologize. We should have checked with you first, but at Conner’s request, we all watched it.”

Marinette sighed. “I thought that was buried.”

“We’re rather good at digging.” Robin’s voice could be heard on the other side of the line.

“Hang on. I’ll be right over.” She told them before hanging up.

“Marinette? What happened?” She turned to see Adrien standing before her, looking rather concerned. Picking up on her tension, he had stopped the movie. And sure enough, four little dolls stared up at her in worry.

She sighed. There was nothing else for it.

“Who wants to go on a trip?”

The Dolls perked up at that.

Adrien, however, noticed how tense she was.

“Mari?”

“They saw the tape.”

His eyes widened. “Oh.” He reached out to her, and without even thinking, she moved into his arms. He clutched her tightly, soothing her and himself. It was…not a pleasant thing to have to relive. That so-called “hero” had caused more damage than just that one day. And more than any of them had truly recovered from.

The dolls seemed to catch on to the atmosphere, because their excitement died down.

“It’ll be okay, Mari. Let’s just be there for him. And I’ll be here for you.”

She held him back just as tight.

“Together then?”

“Always.”

#ml fic #mominette #superhero ban #ml crossover #dc crossover #conner kent #robin #Young Justice #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dolls au #trigger warning

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peachcitt · 3 years

Text

falling, flying

a miraculous ladybug fic

for @softkwami for @mlsecretsanta

Tags: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladrien, Adrinette, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, MLB Wing Au

Summary:

“It’s not supposed to hurt,” she said softly. “Flying, I mean. It’s not supposed to hurt.”

His jaw worked. His mouth settled on a smile. “I know.”

in which marinette and adrien speed toward a foreseeable end on purpose. and also a little bit on accident

read on ao3

enjoy :)

Marinette felt, all things considered, that this situation was not her fault.

Granted, she was the one who threw herself into the fight without coming up with a plan, but how was that supposed to be her fault when this akuma had started making problems exactly seven minutes before her chemistry exam? She’d stayed up nearly all night cram studying (that much, she’ll admit, was her fault), and she’d be damned if she didn’t show up on time to at least get a B minus on it. So she’d barreled into the fight without Chat because she really wanted to get this all over with. She could hardly be blamed for that.

And she certainly couldn’t be blamed for the fact that she was currently speeding toward the hard cement ground right outside a posh business building in the heart of the city at terminal velocity, hands, legs, and wings bound tight.

Sure, there was that comment she’d made to the already very upset akuma about his nose, but, well.

Okay, so maybe this situation was a little bit her fault.

But, like, that was just the nature of being a superhero.

Sometimes, you ended up speeding toward a very foreseeable end, knowing that it’s going to hurt, but not quite knowing how to avoid it. And that’s just life, too.

Not that she was going to let herself become a smear of sidewalk gum. She had her miraculous to protect, after all, and she also had this Daedalus-damn chemistry test that she was going to get a B minus on - no, screw that - a B plus on. There was also the matter of dying at the tender age of seventeen, but that existential dread didn’t touch her as she watched her pissed-off reflection follow her down, down, down on the polished windows of the building she had been thrown off of.

It’s not like she could rely on Chat to get her out of this one. Who knows when he’d show up.

She twisted around in the air, trying to maneuver her bound arms to her hip, where her yo-yo was. If she could grab it, she could summon her lucky charm, and she could stop her fall with the help of a handy-dandy polka-dotted tube of chapstick, or something.

The tips of her fingers brushed against her yo-yo, and her arms ached. Icarus above, the akuma couldn’t have tied her arms in the front of her body? At least then she wouldn’t have to try and bend her left arm at a weird angle to get around her wings.

This, as it turned out, was becoming a dire situation.

She had about ten floors to go before she would eat cement. Her left arm was cramping, and her fingers could only brush up against the feathers of her bound wings instead of anywhere near the yo-yo. She tried to stretch her wings out, test the binds, and only ended up crying out in frustrated pain.

Well. She could always aim for a clumsy rolling landing.

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shaking breath through her nose, and braced herself for the inevitable impact. The bitter cold air whipped past her cheeks, and she released the breath she was holding.

This was fine.

She’d had more than a few landings that had left her battered and bruised throughout her lifetime, and this was just another one.

Not that she’d ever fallen off of a thirty story building before, but, like, semantics. She would probably be fine.

Unless she died.

Just as the thought occurred to her, her body connected with something hard, a jolt traveling through her bones, and she sucked in a punishing breath, eyes flying open.

But she hadn’t hit cement, like she first thought. She’d hit-

She’d been caught in someone’s arms.

There was a familiar smell - mint and spice - and she relaxed into familiar arms. “Nice of you to fly by, Cha-”

The person holding her looked down, and her words caught in her throat.

It was Adrien who had caught her.

Not Chat.

Adrien. Adrien Agreste. Adrien with the beautiful wings he never used to fly, Adrien her classmate, Adrien with the green eyes that sparkled in sunshine and glimmered still on cloudy days, Adrien with the kind smiles, Adrien with the nice hands, Adrien with the nice hands that were currently holding her as they soared up into the air. Adrien freaking Agreste.

“Ah,” she said, and she could feel his hand, gentle, cradling her wings, fingertips light and steady on her feathers.

“I thought you might,” he started, his cheeks coloring, “uh, need a hand.”

“Right,” she said rather weakly. They stared at each other for a moment longer, and then he looked away, looking for a suitable place to land. She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes following the strong line of his jaw, up the smooth curve of his cheek, over the sharp bridge of his nose. Her eyes caught on a little crease in between his eyebrows, and she frowned.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips, and she saw they were pinched tightly, as if he was in pain but trying to hide it.

“Are you-” she started, and then stopped, breath catching in her throat. His wings. She was only just now looking at them properly.

“Am I what?” he asked, glancing down at her as they landed gracefully on the next building over from the one she’d been thrown off of. He tucked his wings back in their normal, perfectly straight posture, and his pinched expression relaxed.

But she couldn’t get the image out of her mind. His wings - his golden, regal wings she so admired but had never seen spread - had been littered with spots that had been rubbed raw. Feathers falling, skin red. Raw.

“Your wings,” she said, and she felt his grip tighten on her legs, but he just as quickly relaxed, setting her down with a smile.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said, moving around her so that he could untie her hands and wings. “Not really.”

“It looks like it hurts,” she said, shaking out her wings once they were free and bending down to untie her ankles.

“It doesn’t,” he said, and she looked up at him, at his perfect posture that hid his injuries.

She stood, and his gaze followed her. She reached out a hand, shaking fingers just barely brushing along his smooth outer feathers. Her eyes met his, and he took in an unsteady breath. “Doesn’t it?” she asked, and he shrugged half-heartedly, feathers bristling.

“Not usually.”

“Oh, Adrien,” she whispered, pained, and he blinked. And she remembered.

She wasn’t supposed to know him. Sure, she’d saved him a couple times with the mask on, but she wasn’t supposed to whisper his name like she knew him, like she felt for him.

“S-sorry,” she said, stepping away, and she saw, belatedly, that his hand was reaching for her. Her heart ached. “I- you- we.” She stopped, taking a deep breath. “I have to get back to the fight. You should get to safety.”

“Yeah,” he said.

Neither of them moved.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s not supposed to hurt,” she said softly. “Flying, I mean. It’s not supposed to hurt.”

His jaw worked. His mouth settled on a smile. “I know.”

Chat showed up not long after that, and they made quick work of the akuma. Marinette avoided any more comments about his nose, rolled her eyes along to Chat’s dumb jokes, and tried not to think about Adrien.

During her chemistry exam - which she showed up ten minutes late for - she also tried not to think about Adrien. But he was sitting right in front of her, and every time she looked up to think, his wings were right there. Regal, golden. Raw.

How many people had seen his wings spread up close like that? Adrien never flew anywhere - he never had to. Perks of being the son of a famous fashion mogul who owned fancy cars and private jets. In gym, he always ran laps because of a daily doctor’s note - who knows what it said. He always took the stairs instead of flight paths, and his wings were always tucked neatly away, glimmering underneath the crappy public school fluorescents.

She tore her eyes away from Adrien’s wings, staring hard down at her test. Icarus, she’d be lucky if she scraped by with a C. Today sucked.

---

“I’m going to spend the entirety of winter break curled up in a blanket nest,” Alya groaned, flopping down at their picnic table. Marinette scooted to the side to make room, hardly looking up from her lunch. “These tests are killer. I think our teachers are out for blood this year.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nino scoffed. “I have my literature exam on lock.”

“Yeah?” Alya asked, raising her eyebrows. “And what about pre-cal?” Nino made a face. “That’s what I thought,” Alya replied.

Adrien looked away from his friends, eyes focusing on Marinette. She’d been acting strange ever since chemistry - she’d shown up late, no doubt caught up in the akuma attack just like half of their class, including him - but this quiet from her seemed more heavy than the quiet dejection of a student afraid of midterms. She kept on shooting him looks and then looking away, like there was something on his face that made her want to cry.

“How have your exams gone, Marinette?” he asked, and she jumped, not expecting to be spoken to. Her eyes met his, and she quickly looked away, a smile forcing itself onto her lips.

“Oh, you know. Terrible. But that’s fine, I guess.”

“I’m sure you did better than you think,” he assured. “We’re our own worst critics, after all.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said, and she squinted her eyes at him, as if trying to mimic a smile reaching up to her eyes, before looking away again.

Well, he was sure she hated him.

Okay, so maybe he was overreacting.

He was definitely - probably - overreacting.

It was just something about Marinette - something about her that always made him think a little too much. He supposed it was a residual rub from the way they had met a couple years ago what with them starting off on the wrong foot, and, yes, he was aware that if he was a healthy person, then he wouldn’t still be overanalyzing their first interaction every time Marinette’s face fell in his presence, but that was beside the point.

He just.

Well. He wanted to be liked by her. And that was natural, to want to be liked by a friend, to want to be liked by someone as amazing as her.

He didn’t want to see her upset. He wanted to see her smile, as much as he was able. She had a wonderful smile, after all.

Marinette’s strange behavior extended through the rest of the week, and on the Friday before break, Adrien mustered up his courage to ask. She normally flew home, so Adrien raced up the stairs to the roof, only just catching her as she was saying goodbye to Alya. Her eyes caught on him, the same color as the bright, cold winter sky, and her eyebrows twisted in something akin to pain.

Alya followed her gaze to him, and her eyebrows raised. She looked back to Marinette, said something that Adrien couldn’t quite hear, squeezed Marinette’s arm, and then lifted off the roof, rust-colored wings causing a wind to rustle through Marinette’s hair. Marinette looked after her for a moment, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, before turning back to Adrien.

“Hey,” he said as he walked closer, and a small smile twitched at her lips - almost as if on instinct.

“Hi,” she replied, tilting her head at him. “You’re flying home?”

“Ah, no, not today,” Adrien said, shaking his head and ignoring the itch of the binds hidden beneath his feathers. “I just, well. Uh.”

This was new. He was normally very good at talking.

Marinette watched him, gaze careful.

“I wanted to ask,” he continued, running a nervous hand through his hair, “if there was anything I’d done. To upset you.”

Marinette blinked. “What?”

“Because,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back to avoid fidgeting, “I’ve noticed that you’re more, um, quiet around me than usual, and I” - he remembered his father normally kept his hands clasped behind his back, cold, professional, and he unclasped his hands, stuffing them in his pockets - “I just wanted to know, I suppose. If it was anything I’d done. So that I could apologize.” The air was cold, and a biting breeze nipped at his cheeks and nose. He swallowed. “I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

“I’m not!” Marinette said, hardly before he finished his last sentence, and he blinked. Her cheeks, red with the cold, became a little redder - no doubt from the new gust of wind that brushed past them both. “I’m not upset or angry with you or anything at all like that, not even a little bit! You haven’t done anything wrong, you’re perfect, I promise, I just-” She stopped, biting on her bottom lip, her shoulders travelling up to her ears. She didn’t continue.

“Is there anything I can do?” Adrien asked, and Marinette’s expression travelled somewhere between a smile and a pinched frown.

“Just…” She trailed off, and she reached over, dainty hand settling on his shoulder. He was sure her fingers flexed, brushing along his feathers. “Have a good break, okay? Spread your wings a little bit for me.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze, and then she let go, lifting off from the roof of the school. Her pretty brown wings, speckled with white, carried her through the cold winter air, and Adrien stared after her silhouette.

Spread his wings.

Somehow, Adrien thought, Marinette always seemed to say just the things that made his chest ache.

---

Marinette spent the first half of her winter break thinking. She also spent that first half of her winter break trying not to think. She made dresses and sweaters and pants from old clothes and bedsheets, trying to keep her hands busy so her mind wouldn’t take over. She pricked her fingers more times in those first few days than she had all year.

She looked forward to Morpheusmus by making her friends gifts and dropping them off at their respective houses, determined to keep her spirits high for the holiday.

It was winter, and Morpheusmus was supposed to be all about cheer and friendship and good dreams. Giving gifts to friends and family to encourage peaceful nights through the long dark hours, while nature slept in its cold. And she was giving her gifts with a damn smile on her face, no matter how much she kept thinking about-

She held Adrien’s wrapped gift - a warm red sweater made from the softest fabric she could find - tightly in her arms as she dropped down to the ground in front of the gates of the Agreste mansion. She dropped the package in the drop box, checking twice to make sure she’d signed her name, and then looked up at the mansion. Towering and cold, colder than the winter air.

She’d done some research, on those nights when she couldn’t avoid thinking.

About wing binding.

It was a common practice in well-off families to encourage good posture and to show off wealth. In excessive amounts, it could cause pain and long-term injury to the person binded.

She bit at the inside of her cheek.

So, she was doing something stupid.

It’s not like she decided - right then at the gates to the Agreste mansion - that she’d do what she’d decided to do, but staring up at that awful mansion had certainly encouraged her. It wasn’t her place, to intrude on family affairs, but Daedalus be damned, she didn’t give a shit.

She lo-

She cared about Adrien. It was awful to think about him hurting, every day, all the time. She couldn’t have another friend that meant so much to her living a life of pain - not when she knew that she might be able to do something about it. If she went in and didn’t find any bindings, then she would take her leave and that would be it. But.

But if she did find bindings, then.

Well. It was a stupid plan. A disaster in the making.

But Marinette was quite used to being a step away from disaster.

She found it quite nice, in fact, to step close so disaster for the sake of someone else. It was a nice change of pace from her own disasters.

---

On the last night of Morpheusmus, Adrien walked into his room from a late night kitchen raid to see Ladybug standing before his bed, arms crossed. He froze.

The moonlight stumbled through his windows, reaching out for her, just barely managing to catch its fingers on her red wings, on her dark hair. She turned her head to look at him, bright blue eyes reflecting the stars of the night, and then she looked down at his bed once more.

He realized then that there were things on his bed that hadn’t been there before he’d left for the kitchen.

His bindings.

Each one of them, their unforgiving lines of gold-colored vines, laid out on the bed. But they looked wrong, somehow. He stepped closer, frowning, and he realized, eyes wide, that they’d all been cut apart, each and every one of them.

Ladybug watched his face as he looked over his useless bindings. “Are you wearing one now?” she asked, voice quiet through the night, and Adrien nodded, speechless. He hadn’t gotten the chance to take off the one he’d worn throughout the day. “Come here,” she said softly, beckoning closer, and he followed the sound of her voice as if on instinct.

She turned him around, and he noticed idly that she only came up to his shoulder. But he felt small, smaller than her, and she seemed to know it. But she didn’t do anything with that knowledge, like other people in his life might’ve. She simply moved her hands through the feathers of his wings, gentle fingers finding the clasps of the bindings and undoing them. The bindings fell to the floor, and he turned around, watching her bend down and pick them up.

For a moment, she seemed to consider them for a moment, so little and heavy in her hands, and then she took the pair of scissors she’d left on the bed. And she slowly and methodically cut it apart.

He shivered at the freedom.

“I’ll leave a note for your father, if you’d like,” she said, setting down the remnants of the bindings on the bed and admiring her handiwork. “Say it was me who did this.”

“No,” he said, and she looked over at him, furrowing her eyebrows. He felt his cheeks heat up. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

A slow smile spread across her lips, and she touched a fleeting hand to his cheek. “He wouldn’t know where to find me,” she said, and then she looked back down at the bindings, her smile turning a little satisfied. “And besides, I chose to get in trouble.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she turned her smile to him, soft and sweet.

“Merry Morpheusmus, Adrien,” she said, and she turned to leave.

“Wait,” he said, and he caught her wrist in her hand, so small and strong. She turned, raising her eyebrows. “Why?” he asked. He didn’t need to elaborate.

For a moment, it seemed like she wouldn’t answer. And then she sighed, turning and sitting down on his bed. He sat down next to her, heart racing.

“You know of my partner, Chat Noir?” she asked, and he felt himself smile.

“I might’ve heard a thing or two about him,” he said, and her lips twitched up into a smile before it faded.

“When we first met, he was absolutely terrible at flying,” she said, and Adrien raised his eyebrows. She’d never told him that before. “He was like a toddler,” she said, and Adrien bit back a retort. She didn’t seem to notice. “He was all crash landings and giddy laughter, like he was doing it all for the first time. And his wings…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“His wings?” Adrien prompted, and she let out a small sigh.

“Well, they looked like yours. Damaged. Raw.” She shook her head again, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “At first I thought that was just what the miraculous did to him for his disguise, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought that maybe… That maybe outside of the mask, he probably didn’t fly.”

She paused, and Adrien ached.

“I asked him once, if it hurt,” she said softly. “He told me it didn’t. Not then. Not with the magic.”

He remembered. Remembered the way her expression broke.

“Chat gets to fly - during fights, yes - but still. He gets to fly. Without pain.” She turned her eyes to him, and he saw all the weight of the world there in her eyes. “I saw your wings, when you rescued me, and it reminded me of him. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought…” She trailed off, letting out something that might’ve been a laugh. “Sorry, it’s silly.”

“Please,” Adrien said, voice breaking of its own accord, “tell me.”

“I just thought,” she started, eyes finding his again, “that if I couldn’t help him, then I might be able to help you.”

And, like, Adrien was no stranger to the rush of emotion in his chest; of course he wasn’t. But he always chose not to act on it most days because he was always afraid - afraid of losing her.

He leaned in.

This was a bad idea.

She leaned in, too.

But sometimes.

Well.

Sometimes it was perfectly understandable to act on a bad idea, wasn’t it? It’s not like he could be blamed for doing so, not when she was in front of him, soft and vulnerable, powerful and beautiful. She’d given him more than he could ever have asked for, and she’d done it simply because she cared.

This was a bad idea, but that was alright.

Their lips met.

It was a gentle, fragile thing - their kiss. It was soft and it was hesitant, and Adrien hoped even as he didn’t that she could feel how much she meant to him. His hand reached up, and he cradled her cheek, thumb tracing along the edge of her mask. She let out a small sigh against his mouth, pushing closer.

He felt, almost, like she was trying to tell him something. Something important.

And then she pulled away, blue eyes heavy on him. She stood, and she cupped his face in her hands, something sad and indecipherable travelling across her face. She rubbed her thumbs along his cheeks, and he reached up, holding on to her wrists, loosely. He wanted her to stay. He knew she had to go.

She brushed the hair away from his forehead, and she pressed a kiss there, soft and caring. “Sweet dreams, Adrien,” she whispered against his skin, and he closed his eyes. Her hands left him, and he mourned the loss. “Spread your wings a little bit for me, okay?”

His eyes flew open, but she was already gone, his window open and welcoming in the cold night air.

He ran to the window, leaning out and letting the wintry air bite at his cheeks as he stared after her silhouette.

“Marinette,” he whispered.

He was probably wrong.

But he didn’t feel wrong.

He felt - awfully, terribly, wonderfully - right.

---

Marinette spent the next few days thinking about mint and spice.

It’s what Chat always smelled like - not that she’d, like, made an active effort to notice. It was just that in the heat of a battle, he’d catch her or she’d catch him or they’d be huddled close and she would smell it. Mint and spice. That was what Chat smelled like.

It was also what Adrien’s room smelled like.

What Adrien himself had smelled like - when he’d caught her, falling mid-air. When he’d kissed her, sweet and gentle.

Against her better judgement, Marinette was having thoughts. And feelings.

A whole lot of feelings.

So when Adrien showed up at the bakery, wearing the soft red sweater she’d given him for Morpheusmus, Marinette had done what any rational person would do.

She sprinted out the back door of the bakery.

Was it the best possible thing she could do in that situation? No, absolutely not. She knew that. And that was fine.

She was speeding toward an end, an end she wasn’t quite sure if she would like, so she squeezed her eyes shut and pretended that she was alright with free-falling just so she wouldn’t have to look down at the fast approaching ground.

“Marinette!”

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked up at the sky, following the sound of her name. It was Adrien, above her, beautiful frame backlit by the bright winter sky. His wings looked better - still a little raw, but better.

Marinette considered running.

Adrien landed in front of her, graceful and intentional, and his eyes searched her. “Why did you run away?”

“Bug,” Marinette answered immediately, her mouth providing her with a lie. “On the cash register. A bug.”

He tilted his head at her, stepping closer, slowly, carefully, like she was a flighty bird.

Which.

Yeah.

“You mean it wasn’t because of me?”

So that was super rude of him, to look so honest.

Marinette let out a strained sound from the back of her throat, throwing her hands up into the air and turning away from him.

“It’s because of the- the Daedalus-damned mint!” she exclaimed, whirling around to face him again. He had a confused sort of smile on his face. “And the- the stupid spice! And your wings, a little bit- no, a lot a bit. It’s all so much- which is. Which is absolutely-” She cut herself off with a frustrated groan, shaking her head and meeting his gaze.

His eyes were so green. His hair so gold, the strands wind-blown and familiar.

“It’s all just so much like him,” she said, her voice breaking into quiet.

Something in his expression cracked open, and he smiled, bright and honest as the sun. “I knew it,” he said. “I knew it!” He laughed as he said it, throwing his arms around her and pulling her close.

“Adrien-”

“You said the same thing that night,” he said, pulling away and holding her by the shoulders, grin wild. “‘Spread your wings a little bit for me.’ I didn’t want to hope I was right.”

She felt like she was falling.

She felt like she was flying.

“You know,” she said, and he nodded, excited.

“And you know, too,” he said, “don’t you?” And she realized that she did. She’d known for a while.

“Oh, Icarus save me,” she breathed, and then she grabbed Adrien - Chat Noir, her partner, her best friend - by the collar of the soft red sweater she’d made for him, and she kissed him hard.

And he kissed her back, just as hard. She could feel his smile, pressed up close to her mouth, and she laughed, breathing in the wonderfully familiar mint and spice.

---

Looking at this rationally, Adrien was absolutely certain this was a bad idea. His father wasn’t going to be happy about him getting a girlfriend, let alone getting a girlfriend that cuts up all the new bindings he buys with a gleam in her eyes that is, quite honestly, downright terrifying.

However, Adrien didn’t like being rational. He did like this bad idea, though, and all it was speeding toward.

And Marinette felt far from a bad idea, she felt like soft feathers and softer kisses, gentle smiles and quick laughs. She felt like everything absolutely and totally right, and he couldn’t exactly fault himself for falling - flying toward her.

It was only natural.

That much, at least, he was sure of.

hey apple i hope you loved this as much as i loved writing it (can you tell i got carried away a little bit? because i did. i totally did) and i hope anyone else reading this enjoys at least one sentence. it doesn’t really matter which one

happy holidays everyone!! i hope you’re able to spend this winter, no matter what you celebrate, safe and happy and surrouned by things you love

thank you so much for reading<3<3<3

#ml secret santa #softkwami #miraculous ladybug #mlb fic #adrinette #ladrien #mlb wing au #tbh? i saw ladrien on your likes list and blacked out and now we're here. god i love ladrien so much #also YES if youre wondering i DID look up mythological beings with wings to create a new holiday for fanfiction bird people #so. if you're wondering. morpheus is the greek god commonly associated with dreams and sleep and he is commonly depicted with wings #why greek? it followed the daedalus/icarus theme #see? i think about things sometimes #ANYWAYS thank u so much for reading (if youre still reading these tags) happy holidayds love u goodnight

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doctorthreephds · 3 years

Text

Synapses: Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.3k

TW: Again, nothing, except excess amounts of knowledge about forensics. Also the books suggested are great reads.

Summary: Your not-so-date date with Spencer arrives and you prepare for the worst to find out that the two of you have more in common than you realize. It is then when you begin to find feelings for the resident genius.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention

The next couple of days are a blur, with the signing of paperwork at the Bureau and enjoying your time off before you’re officially hired. Your lack of excitement was confusing. Usually most are nervous or excited to start a new job. But, for you, seeing Spencer was the most nerve-wracking thing you had experienced in a while.

That Saturday, you wake before your alarm. Even though the night before you had a hard time getting to bed, you wake once the light shines in through your window. It streams in and baths you in a golden glow. You had told Spencer to meet you at the bookstore around nine in hopes of checking out some books and then grabbing a bite to eat together, but you knew little to nothing about how flighty he would be. Would he take the books and leave? Or would he want to stay and chat? Perhaps you were overthinking a little bit.

A startling ring comes from your phone, forcing you to sit up and grab at it to silence the loud alarm. You groan as you throw your legs over the side of the bed, walking over to the closet to look through the hangers of sweaters and blazers amassed from years in academia. You think back to that night, what Spencer was wearing. His usual get-up was a blazer over a sweater vest and a button-up, at least it was for that night. It was cold then too. A beige sweater over a white button-up and a thick wool coat would do for today, it was rather chilly in D.C with the recent snowfall.

Your stomach bubbles with butterflies as you walk into your bathroom. After splashing some cold water on your face, you brush your teeth and try to calm your shaky hands. The blood rushing through your ears is like an anthem playing to your every movement. Was your heart pounding that loudly? You pause and take a deep breath before walking out of your room and into the kitchen. Opting for decaf so that your hands don’t shake as violently, a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar drop into the blue cup before you sip on the warm drink and stare out at the cityscape through your window like the calm before the storm. It was peaceful to see the bright white snow stand out against the brick and concrete as people pass by and get on with their Saturday morning. The steam from the drink tickles your nose as you take small sips, trying to pass time in an effort to not show up too early. You didn’t want to appear as if this was the only thing you had been thinking about for the past week, even though it was.

“You can do this,” you whisper to yourself, the phrase playing over and over in your head like a mantra, before grabbing your bag off the island countertop and typing in the code to start the security alarm. Rushing out the door, you close it behind you, the blanket of safety falling around your shoulders. Just another one of your father’s little things. At least you always felt safe.

Making your way down the stairs, you get down to the lobby and then out the glass doors into the rushed city streets. The chill relaxes you, calms your warm clammy skin as you walk down the sidewalk to the bookstore. A small smile grows on your face as puffs of air are made present with each breath. Your apartment was perfectly located, close to both the metro and the bookstore that you loved so dearly. It killed you to leave it behind when you got your Ph.D. but you were determined to be near it when you moved back.

A familiar ringing of the store bell engulfs you in a feeling of comfort as you near the store. It had been years since you went on a date, not like this was one, but you were definitely interested in Spencer and feared scaring him away or just not being interesting enough for him.

Walking through the door was like being transported into another world, The walls were lined with books, floor to ceiling. It was like a palace and you knew that every single book had a different world you could escape to when you needed to, when reality got too much. Every time you brought your dad here to sign some of Shelby’s collection of his books, he too had a similar face of awe. His job was stressful enough, it was the least you could do to help him gain some sort of escape.

“Hey there!” Shelby, the owner, calls out.

“Hi, Shel! How are you today?” you ask, glancing over at at the wall of candles next to her and checking to see if any of your favorites were restocked. It was one of the most alluring parts of the store, the book-themed candles with matching scents.

“I’m doing great, how did your last interview go? I know you were on the last one of the whole process,” she asks.

“It went great! I actually got the job and celebrated that night with my dad and his coworkers. There was actually this one guy--”

You hear the bell ring behind you and twist around to see Spencer standing there, an awkward smile across his face.

“Hey, Spencer! Welcome to the best place on earth,” you swing back to wink at Shelby and then walk forward to stand next to the young doctor. It makes you smile to see his crooked tie sitting underneath his maroon sweater vest and navy blazer. Out of instinct, you reach forward and adjust it before pulling back to realize what you had done.

“I am so sorry, it’s just a force of habit from when I do it for my dad,” you mumble and look down to the floor bashfully in an attempt to hide from the awkward shame.

“No worries. Shall we get to the books?” he asks and looks out to the bookstore. It was mostly barren due to the early hours, but it was perfect in your eyes. The overwhelming smell of paper and ink fills your senses as you direct Spencer over to the true crime section.

“I remember when I first found forensics books in the true crime section. It makes sense, though, forensics is all technically up to interpretation as anything but to me, it’s an interesting way of looking at science,” you state and begin pulling out books from the shelves. The Poisoner’s Handbook by Deborah Blum, Forensics by Val McDermid, and All that Remains by Sue Black. It wasn’t the heftiest stack of books you had walked out with, but you were sure it would tie Spencer over for at least a couple days.

“The same thing could be said about profiling, a lot of people show hesitation when it comes to our profiles, but we haven’t been wrong yet. It was only really in the last 50 years that people started to take it more seriously, although some still don’t believe it to be helpful” he states and you look up at him.

“Alrighty, there are three of my favorite ones. And honestly, if anything I can get you my college textbooks if you really want to enrich yourself, but I doubt those will be as entertaining as these,” you say and let out a little laugh.

“I’ll probably get through these today,” he glances down at the stack of books as you stare in awe.

“How? No way,” you mumble, your eyes widening.

“I can read 12,000 words per minute,” you pause in place, staring in awe as he speaks.

“I stand corrected, I wish I had your mind when I was working on my dissertation. God, I spent hours reading research papers and textbooks that I thought my brain would melt. For you? Light reading,” you state and shake your head. “Spencer you’re incredible.”

“Hm,” he hums and looks down at the floor, almost like a resignation. It was sad to see. Did he not know how amazing his mind is?

“What?” you ask and frown.

“Most people don’t say that when I tell them about me. They usually look at me in awe or like I’m a freak of nature,” he mumbles and huffs. You pause and stare at him for a moment before speaking.

“Well, you shouldn’t listen to them,” you boldly state as he looks up. “Growing up, knowledge and education was the one thing that no one could take away from me. Spencer, I think you’re the coolest person I know, and my dad is pretty famous.”

He lets out a small laugh at that as you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair was a plop of messy curls on top of his head, smoothed down to try and look somewhat put together, and his eyes were a deep brown although slightly dull from lack of sleep. He carried himself a little bit timidly, but he carried the books in his arms like they were the key to unlocking everything. And for that? You adored him.

“Do you wanna go grab some lunch? I’d love to get to know one of my new coworkers,” you tell him and begin walking over to Shelby.

“Sure,” he says, a slight flush on his cheeks appearing as Shelby rings him up and you go through a couple of the candles, taking a quick whiff of the ones that look interesting. You take one that smells like butterscotch and place it on the counter, reaching over to your bag to bring your wallet out.

“I got it,” he mumbles and smiles as you frown, shaking your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him as Shelby takes his card, looking at you pointedly.

“No, it’s alright, I got it.” he responds and takes the small receipt back from Shelby along with his card.

You narrow your eyes, a playful smile appearing on your face as you stare at him while Shelby bags up the books and then hands you the candle.

“I’ve got lunch then,” you tell him and gently nudge his shoulder, a smile spreading over your face. He nods and the two of you walk out of the bookstore into the cold D.C. street. The cafe you had in mind was only a couple stores over and the irresistible smell of freshly baked pastries was unmistakeable as the two of you walked closer. As you approach, Spencer speeds up and holds the door open for you as you mutter a small thanks to him.

The cafe itself was rather small but full of people who were enjoying their mornings out. The menu was littered with several different drinks and food in French. Glancing into the case full of food, you set your eyes on a spinach and cheddar cheese quiche as well as a warm mug of tea. When you walk up to the counter, you look over at Spencer for a moment as he too stares up at the menu. He suddenly looks back at you and you feel like you get whiplash from how quickly you look back to the woman behind the register.

“I’ll take what she’s having and a coffee with room for cream and sugar,” he responds as you quickly hand over your card, ensuring that he has no time to take out his wallet. When the transaction is finished, the two of you move off to the side to wait for your food and drinks.

“So what else do you do besides working and reading? Although, I’d guess work takes up a majority of your time,” you ask, looking over at him as you rub your hands together to help warm them up a bit. You should have brought your gloves, but it had slipped your mind this morning in the midst of all your chaotic thoughts about the day.

“I play chess in the park when I find the time. I also like to watch foreign movies and knit occasionally, although I haven’t really found time for it recently. Most of my time outside of work is dedicated to reading,” he responds.

“Oh gosh, I could never knit. I tried it once and it went very poorly, I just have really bad coordination with my non-dominant hand. Crocheting is my personal favorite type of fiber art, it only really requires one hand,” you smile as your name is called out and your drinks are put on the counter alongside your food. Quickly, you grab the mug full of tea with one hand and feel relief as it begins to warm your cold fingers. With the other hand, the two of you grab your quiches and walk over to the condiments section where you watch as Spencer proceeds to dump several sugar packets into his coffee.

“Not a fan of the bitterness?” you ask and laugh as he dumps the sugar in, stirring it around with a stir stick.

“Just a sugar addict,” he smiles up at you and your heart almost skips a beat in your chest as the two of you maneuver over to a table.

“I remember, sugar over alcohol. I hope the cake that night was to your satisfaction,” you say and begin digging into your food after a quick sip of tea to warm your insides.

“I think it could have had more sugar,” you bark out another laugh and take a bite of the quiche.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you mumble.

“What about you? What do you do in your free time?” he asks and you pause your eating to warm your hands with the mug of tea.

“I like to read as well, although I usually read science-related books. I’ve been trying to broaden my horizons and read some classical literature, I think there’s a lot to be learned from fiction that most scientists fail to recognize. There’s often a gap between humanities and science-related majors, but I think that they’re a lot more similar than they realize,” you speak and feel your hands sweat as you look up at Spencer who appears to be watching you as you talk. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?’

“No, you’re fine. It’s not often that people think the two are connect when, in fact, there is a lot that can be bridged between the two. Science can only be progressed if information is shared and made available for people to read, that’s why papers are only accredited if they’re peer-reviewed. I’d like to think psychology is a marrying of the two, both humanities and science. Without the knowledge of human nature, we cannot predict and better ourselves as human beings but without the scientific process, we are left unable to process experiments and theories. So, you’re completely correct,” he says and the two of you are left staring at each other as you soak in the information. Your heart soars at his response and you can only smile as you bow your head slightly to try and hide the warmth in your cheeks.

“Very astute analysis there, Dr. Reid,” you mumble, hiding your smile in your cup as you bring it up to take a sip.

“Thank you, Dr. Montgomery,” Spencer does the same with his coffee and you feel your cheeks stretch even further than imagined, a warmth growing in your chest.

The rest of your “not date” is spent talking about similar things, the disparity that people seem to observe between humanities and science as well as fun facts thrown around to keep the atmosphere light.

“I mean, before photographs, people had to draw crime scenes to keep track of where everything was. The procedures for crime scene investigation were very poor then, though, but they did what they had to do. I find that facial reconstruction is one of my favorite connections between art and science, the fact that scientists learn how to sculpt faces in order to make an identification,” you state as you finish the last bite of your quiche and drink the rest of your tea.

“It goes hand and hand with forensic anthropology to help identify victims. It’s moreso for the family than it is to help find the unsub, but it can add to victimology and help understand how the victim died,” he responds, also finishing the last of his sickeningly sweet coffee.

“But it’s so cool how science and art really are married. To be good at figure drawing, you have to have a good understanding of anatomy and to successfully construct a face, you must know how to sculpt,” you finish and look down at the finished meal, you feel a bit sad to find your time with Spencer coming to an end. “I’ll bring this over to the trash.”

You stand and take the plates with their respective mugs over to the tub of used dishes and discard your tea bag and napkins used. Walking back over, you find Spencer standing next to the table grabbing his own bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Shall we?” he mutters and you nod, following him out the door.

“I’m going this way,” you tell him, pointing back in the direction of your apartment and the bookstore.

“You didn’t take the train?” he asks, hugging his bag close as he furrows his brow.

“Oh! No, I live just a couple blocks down from the bookstore. I chose my apartment for that reason,” you clutch your bag close as well, almost a sort of object to ground yourself so the endless nerves are redirected some place other than your brain.

“I’ll walk you down, then,” he states and moves to stand beside you.

“You don’t have to, it’s just a couple blocks,” you state and shake your head.

“I insist,” he smiles and you can feel your heart jump in your chest. Maybe it was the bright blue cloudy sky behind him or the chill in the air, but something about him felt a bit unreal.

“Al-Alright,” you mumble and begin back down the street, a calm silence settling as the two of you walk in tandem and allow the noise of D.C. to fill the air. The walk is short, shorter than you remember, but the warmth of Spencer next to you is distracting so perhaps the fact that you can’t keep track of the streets is enough to make it feel like no time has passed. In fact, you almost walk past your apartment building, but the glass doors swing open and stop you in your place as someone else walks out.

“This is me,” you glance up at the building and look back at him, unsure of what to say.

“We should do this again some time. I’ll bring you some of the classics that I have so you can have more to read,” he suggests but takes a step back, almost like he regrets the words coming out of his mouth as they do so. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to--”

“I’d like that,” another pause as your heart begins to pound faster. “I’ll text you.”

You lean forward on your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek before spinning around and walking into the building, attempting to catch your breath and not turn to look at his reaction. Hoping and praying you didn’t overstep, you head into the elevator and look out at the street where you see Spencer staring in a sort of awe, a silly smile on his face. The doors close in front of you as you ponder. Maybe it was a date.

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